Desperate Times (Boys of Silver Ridge 2)

He takes a bite of his chicken and I wait, watching his face. I followed a recipe but have yet to try it myself.

“This is good. Thanks, babe.”

“You are more than welcome.” I cut into my own food and am pleasantly surprised myself at how much I like this too. “There’s enough left over for you to take to lunch tomorrow, if you want.”

“I’d love that.” He twirls spaghetti noodles around his fork. “What’d you do all day?”

“I went back and forth between sleeping on the couch and trying to work. I didn’t get anything new written, though. Oh, I heard from my agent about that TV show deal.”

“You sound much more excited about it now.”

“What she presented was good and made me excited, but that’s really what it is: a presentation. We have to look over the contract in detail, but this network really wants me and is pretty much going to bend to my will,” I laugh. “There is one big bad thing, though.”

“What is it?”

“They want me to direct a few episodes.”

“That’s bad?” Sam questions.

“No, not really, and I won’t be alone in directing. It’s just a marketing tactic, really. But…the show will be filmed mostly in Europe. There’s a good chance I’ll have to spend several weeks in a row on set, which…”

“Which makes this all hard.” Sam’s fork goes slack in his hand, resting against his plate.

“It’s not forever, and think of how much fun it would be for you to come visit me on a set somewhere in the French countryside.” I flash a smile. “Which is a guess and probably not a location the show will film at since it’s supposed to be way back in the knights and dragons phase. You’ll be busy with work, but even seeing each other once or twice a month will help immensely.”

“When do you think the show will start filming?” Sam pokes at his food, making it look like he’s eating when really, he’s not.

“Probably not until next summer. These things take an annoying amount of time.”

“Yeah, I bet.” He goes back to his food, and a few minutes pass between us. “Do you still want to walk along the shore with me?”

My heart flutters in my chest, and my eyes go to my nails. I didn’t have any nail polish, so instead I made sure to dig out any dirt and file them as smooth as possible. “Yeah, I’d love to. I missed out on Silver Lake, might as well enjoy what I can of Lake Michigan, right?”

“Right.”

We go back to making small talk while eating, and I go into the bedroom to change out of this black dress and into leggings and an oversized gray sweater. It hangs off my shoulder and is considered by many of my friends back home as something “real winter people” would wear. I laugh and tell them that it gets so freaking cold up here, having one shoulder showing is enough to freeze you to the bone, yet here I am, being one of those people who underestimated the random low temps the Midwest likes to throw at you. I brought a jacket, at least, and pull it on over my sweater.

“I should have brought gloves,” I grumble as soon as we get onto the sidewalk in front of Sam’s apartment.

“It’s not that cold out,” he replies. “I think your dad was right to say California has made you soft.”

“I’m not accustomed to the cold.”

“Don’t you come back here for holidays?” Sam is clearly amused by thinking a fifty-degree night is freaking freezing.

“Yeah, but I’m not here for long and I’m usually inside.”

He puts his arm around me. “I’ll get us an Uber then. I wouldn’t want you to freeze to death on the way to the lake.”

“If it’s not that far of a walk, I’m fine. Just hold this hand.” I put my right hand in my jacket pocket and hold out my left for him to take. He laces our fingers together, kisses the back of my hand, and then sticks both our hands inside his pocket.

“It’s not far,” Sam assures me. “I wouldn’t make you walk miles in the frigid cold when you’re still getting over the flu.”

“It is frigid cold,” I counter but end up laughing. “And fine. I remember when it would warm up to fifty degrees and we’d open the window and wear shorts to school.”

“I was too cool to wear a coat, which is so fucking stupid now.” Sam gives my hand a squeeze. “Do you remember that? It was a thing and we never wore coats.”

“I do remember, and I always thought it was stupid,” I say honestly. “None of you boys were Elsa, so the cold did bother you anyway.”

“What?”

I stare at him wide-eyed. “Please tell me you are joking and you actually one hundred percent get that reference.” Sam shakes his head and I laugh.