Page 22 of Hot Mess

“Yeah, Kayla, Lions of Medea. It’s the only hottest show on cable. He’s going to be the new Captain Wonder.”

10

NICK

Ithrew jeans and sweats into a bag. I was going to be on set for five weeks. I tossed in more tees. Working through Thanksgiving was fine by me. The crew in Canada didn’t celebrate anyway. To them, it was just another Thursday.

A cold Thursday. I pulled out the heavy winter jeans, lined in fleece, and shoved them in.

It wasn’t as if I had a family that wanted to see me for the holiday. Mom was on some beach or a cruise somewhere. She typically only called when I was late with her deposit. She sure as hell did.

I finished packing and rolled the case down the hall. I left it by the front door and turned into the depths of the house and headed toward Isaac’s office.

“Is the car here?” He asked.

A small black case stood just inside his office door.

“Where are you going?”

He turned and gave me one of those once-overs looks. I had no idea what he was thinking. He could be judging me on anything from the obviousness of my statement to the stupidity of my question, to my choice in footwear.

“With you.”

“What? Why?”

“Because, Nick, we have business things to discuss. And you have been avoiding me all week. I have to nail you down and you can’t get away from me on a small private jet.”

He had a decent point.

“But I need you here to keep my estate running.”

I think he hurt himself snorting with laughter. “Estate. The house is nice but it’s not an estate. Kerry knows how to take the trash out and bring the mail in when we aren’t here.”

I widened my eyes at him. My estate was much more than a piece of property, and he knew it.

“Nick, Nick, Nick, Nick. I can handle all the wealth management from a laptop and an internet connection. When have I ever let you down? I ran things from a beach in Malta for six weeks when you were shooting season one of Lions, and you never knew the difference.”

I crossed my arms and glared at him. He had done what while I was in Morocco?

“Oops.”

“Really? That's all you’ve got to say, oops? Mom has been hounding me for more money.”

“And it’s in everyone’s best interest if she gets it. No worries. See, you aren’t even all that mad at me,” Isaac smirked.

“Of course, I’m mad at you. I had sand in my ass crack for weeks on that shoot, and there wasn’t a beach in sight.”

“If it makes you feel any better, the beach was more pebbly than sandy.”

“So, no sand in your ass on a beach in the Mediterranean? That actually doesn’t help.”

“Your assets increased six percent during that time frame. Happy now?”

“What would I do without you?”

His phone buzzed. He looked at it. “You’d miss your flight. The car’s here.”

I stepped back letting him grab his bag and leave the office ahead of me.

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