The Secret (Single in Seattle 1)

“Thank you very much. Thank you for watching movies. We love bringing them to you.”

And with that, he holds his gold statue up and then walks off the stage.

Among the applause in the audience, the camera pans down to the actors, all smiling and clapping.

Suddenly, I catch a glimpse of Christian Wolfe, one of my parents’ friends, who I’ve had a crush on since forever. He’s just the ultimate.

I grin over at Chelsea. “I’m totally gonna marry a movie star.”

Chapter 1

~Olivia~

“I freaking hate movie stars,” I declare as I sit across from Stella and Erin. These two are my family. Well, two of about sixty others, but two of the closest.

Stella’s mom and mine are best friends and pretty much sisters. So, Stella and I have been attached at the hip since she came out of the womb less than a year after me.

And Erin is a few years younger, but this family of cousins is close. I live with these two, along with our other cousin, Drew.

“So, you’re saying you need a drink,” Stella says with a smile as the waitress approaches. Stella points to her martini glass full of what looks to be a dirty martini. “She needs one of these.”

“I need food, too,” I add. “A cheeseburger and fries, please.”

“Me, too,” Erin says.

“Make it three,” Stella says with a nod and then turns back to me. “Okay, so why do you hate movie stars today?”

“So rude,” I grumble and steal a sip of her martini while waiting for mine. “I had an appointment today for a fitting with Vaughn Barrymore, and he stood me up. Didn’t even bother to call. Or have his assistant call, anyway. I’m so damn busy, you guys. The costumes for this movie are intricate and take hundreds of hours to make, and now I’m behind because the star of the film didn’t have the decency to make it into my office on time. Or, you know, at all.”

“He’s hot,” Erin declares and earns a glare from me. She then smiles innocently. “I mean, in a total douchebag kind of way, of course. But have you seen his dimples?”

“Which ones?” Stella asks with a smirk. “Because in that one movie he did last year, we got to see his ass, and the dimples above those cheeks are also pretty fantastic. Wait, I wonder if that was an ass double.”

“I hear he does his own stunts,” I say and can’t help but laugh with them. “And let me just say, a guy can be the hottest thing ever and not be nice. So the looks don’t matter.”

“They don’t hurt,” Stella says and then holds up her perfectly manicured hands in surrender when I narrow my eyes at her. “Okay, you’re right. If he’s an asshat, he’s not hot.”

“I know that a lot of people don’t take me seriously because I work at my dad’s production company,” I continue after the waitress delivers my drink. I immediately eat the blue-cheese-stuffed olive that came in it. “They think that I only got the job of lead costume designer because I’m his kid, but damn it, I worked my ass off for years to get this job. I got it on my own.”

“Absolutely,” Erin agrees. “We hardly saw you for years while you were in school and then in apprenticeships. You’re always behind a sewing machine. Covered in fabric. How you have that tan, I’ll never know.”

“Sometimes, she hauls the sewing machine outside,” Stella says, and I sip my martini, watching them.

“I go outside,” I reply dryly. “Sitting by the pool is my favorite hobby. Next to making clothes, anyway. I like my job, you guys. I love it. But I hate the part where I have to interact with celebrities. My dad was right: Famous people aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.”

“We already knew that,” Stella reminds me. “Half our family is famous, and they’re great, but they’re just normal people. And half the people they work with are idiots.”

“My dad is a total weirdo,” Erin supplies, and I smile at the thought of her father, former football star, Will Montgomery.

Women still send him fan mail that his daughters love to read and tease him about. It’s really pretty hilarious.

“Your dad is funny,” I say, shaking my head. “And considerate. I’m pretty sure that if he ever had to have a fitting, he’d show up for it.”

“True. He would.” Erin sighs and then grins when our burgers are delivered. “I’m gonna need to run ten miles to burn off this burger, and I don’t even care.”

“It’s girls’ night, so it doesn’t count,” Stella says and takes a big bite.

“If it were a true girls’ night, we would have invited the other cousins,” I point out. “But, since we’re all girls, and we’re together, it counts. Erin, how’s it going with that sports reporter you’ve been dating?”