The Girl From Summer Hill (Summer Hill 1)

The work was grueling! Twelve-hour days. Devlin was in every scene, so they demanded that he stay in shape. If he wasn’t in front of the camera, he was in a gym being yelled at by some thick-necked jock to lift more and more weight. And if the work wasn’t bad enough, Nina and the kid spent the money as fast as he made it.

Devlin put up with it for one whole season, all while imagining his coming multiple-month vacation. But he had only two weeks off—most of which he spent in bed with one of the extras—then they wanted him to start all over again.

It took a while, but he got out of it. A few tantrums, a few fights, too much booze, and they threatened to kill his character off. As Devlin knew he would, Landers paid to keep it out of the media, and in apology Landers starred in two episodes. But the series still flopped.

Afterward, Devlin put on his best act of contrition. He cried to everyone and even spent six weeks in rehab. But it wasn’t enough for Landers. He said he’d be damned if Devlin was going to go back to sitting on his ass and doing nothing while Tate supported him. In private, he yelled about the women. Devlin defended himself by saying that Nina cared more for the baby than she did for him. Landers said, “Damned right she does! Emmie’s the only good thing you’ve ever accomplished in your entire freeloading life.”

The divorce had been bad, and Devlin had a difficult time getting awarded any money. He’d had to cry to the judge that it wasn’t right that he was being separated from his beloved daughter and that he deserved compensation.

The L.A. judge mumbled, “I hate actors,” then he’d looked at Tate—who by that time was a major star—and said that sometimes justice and pride had to be put aside for the good of others. “Please don’t drag that little girl through this filth.”

In the end, Landers had selfishly and begrudgingly agreed to support Devlin for a few more years—until he could “get on his feet again.”

Landers was now talking about hiring lawyers to get out of paying any more. If he did that, Devlin didn’t know what he was going to do next. During his once-a-month call to Emmie, she’d told him that Uncle Tate—how Devlin hated that name!—had bought the Virginia plantation and her mom had fixed it up.

“You mean that old place Nina used to go on and on about, with those two kids?” He was annoyed that he hadn’t been told this useful information earlier.

“Letty and Ace,” Emmie said with enthusiasm.

“I didn’t think that place was real. Will he be there?”

As young as Emmie was, she knew who “he” was. “Mom wants Uncle Tate to come, but she says that if he does, he’ll only stay for a day. My uncle is a celebrity and he can’t—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Devlin said. “I gotta go,” and he’d hung up.

It had taken him a while to swallow his anger over that news. He was having to scrimp on everything, from clothes to his car, but Landers was buying plantations. How was that fair?

Devlin did some investigating and found the town of Summer Hill, where the old plantation he’d heard too much about was. When he read of the auditions for the local play, he thought that maybe, for once in his life, his luck had changed. He’d go there, be in the play, and he’d work on getting Nina back. They could live on that lovely old plantation in the little town and he’d become…what? The mayor? He imagined town meetings with everyone lined up, asking for his autograph.

But his long-term plan wasn’t working out. As always, everything good was given to Landers. He’d shown up with Jack Worth—the B-movie actor who had been chosen for his friendship instead of Devlin—and taken over the whole town. That was all anyone could talk of.

And now it looked like Landers might be falling for some local girl. Sure she could cook, but who the hell was she? Nobody!

Devlin knew that if he were given what fate had dished out so generously to Landers, he’d go after some rising starlet—or three. Not some cook in a nowhere town in Virginia.

As he made his way to where he’d cut an opening in the fence at the back of the property, he thought about the photos he’d bought. He wasn’t yet sure what he was going to do with them, but he’d figure out something. His goal was to do to Landers what had been done to him—and it looked like that would involve this local girl.

Smiling, Devlin went back to his Toyota, which was hidden at the side of the road. His next car was going to be a dark-green Jaguar.

“Good morning.”

Casey looked up to see Tate standing at the screen door. The early-morning sun behind him made her remember the first time she’d seen him: wet and naked.

What she was thinking must have shown on her face because Tate’s eyebrows raised in a way that made her blush.

“Maybe now’s not a good time,” he said as he turned away.

“You don’t have to leave.” She took the two steps to the door and held it open.

As Tate went past her, he lifted his arms as if he were in a holdup, and stepped sideways. She knew he was making a point of not touching her, so no electricity would pass between them.

She ignored his theatrics. “Where are the others?”

“Richmond. Gizzy said she had to go there to get something for her dad, and Jack asked to go with her. My guess is that they’ll spend the night. That means I’m…” He shrugged.

“That you’re all by yourself and I’ll bet you’re hungry. Sit down. I made breakfast burritos, so we can eat before the rehearsals start.”

Tate straightened his shoulders. “Actually, I told Kit I needed a break and whether he liked it or not, I was going to take the entire day off.”