Summer's Lease (The Shakespeare Sisters 1)

Sam scrawled his name across the contract, passing it back over to the woman on the other side of the desk from him. Marcella Di Bacco took the papers from him, flashing him a brief smile. A fifty-something blonde, she was every inch the professional. Her clothes, her hairstyle, they all added up to somebody who was totally in control.

‘Thanks for organising the interview,’ Sam said. ‘I know it must have taken a lot to get me on there so quickly.’

Marcella nodded. She wasn’t one for showing emotions, Sam noticed, but then that wasn’t what he was planning to pay her for. One of the biggest publicists in the business, she had connections most people in LA only dreamed of. That’s exactly what the dollars were getting him.

‘It wasn’t easy, but it was necessary. You’ll find that’s what I’m best at, finding fast solutions to problems. I’ll also be sitting down to work out a long-term strategy for you, too. I’ll need to work with your agent on that.’ She looked up at him. ‘Have you signed with one yet?’

‘I’m going with Larry Morgan.’

‘From the Creative Artists Agency? I thought he wasn’t taking anybody on.’

Despite being in the middle of a sprawling city, Hollywood was a small place. Everybody was in everybody’s face.

Sam shrugged. ‘What can I say? Larry called me as soon as I landed in LAX.’

‘Lucky boy. When do you start shooting the next Summer Breeze movie?’ Marcella asked.

‘In a month.’

‘And what are your plans after that?’

‘I want to take a break for a bit. Maybe do some theatre work. Get out of the Hollywood rat race for a while.’ He felt relieved just saying it.

‘OK, well leave me with this, and I’ll start drawing up some plans. We want to avoid all that speculation about your relationship with your co-star this time, as well as countering the publicity the Serena Sloane incident created. Maybe we can have some print interviews with you and your new girlfriend, use it to dampen down all the speculation.’

‘She’s not my girlfriend,’ Sam pointed out. Not yet, anyway. And possibly never, if the way she left Italy reflected her feelings for him.

‘Well, keep my team updated, OK? Let’s schedule another meeting for, say, two weeks’ time. Then we can make some concrete plans.’

He nodded. ‘I’m not sure I’ll be in town, but we can Skype, right?’

‘Of course. Oh, and just to let you know, Serena Sloane’s publicist has emailed me. Serena isn’t at all happy about the backlash she’s had. She’s planning to set the story straight, to admit there was a lot of fabrication. This should be good for us.’

Sam raised his eyebrows. Even thinking about Serena left a bad taste in his mouth. That’s why he paid a publicist – to deal with the people he didn’t want to. ‘I’ll leave it with you, then.’

The sun was beating down on the sidewalk when he emerged into the street. A late heatwave had descended on the city, and the warmth radiated from the pavement as he crossed the road to find the parking lot. As he reached his car, he flicked on his phone, and it rang almost straight away.

There were only a few people he answered immediately. His mother was one of them.

‘Hey, Mom.’

‘Sam? I just saw your interview, who’s this girl you were talking about?’

‘Nobody.’ Sam’s reply was terse. He wasn’t quite ready to start talking about his personal life with his mother. Not yet. They were slowly building bridges back towards each other, but he couldn’t help but feel a shot of anger at her wanting to know his business when she’d lied about hers for so long.

‘Thank you so much for not mentioning your father.’ She sounded conciliatory, as though she understood his emotions. ‘I really appreciate it.’

He waited for the usual panic to descend at the mention of Foster, but shockingly it didn’t. ‘I promised you I wouldn’t say anything, and luckily she didn’t ask. Though I’m not willing to keep it a secret for ever, I’ll wait until things have calmed down, OK?’ After six years of living a lie, he was ready to climb out of that particular prison. ‘How are Izzy and Sienna doing?’ Two of the main reasons he was keeping quiet about his parentage – they were still coming to terms with the lies they’d been told for their entire lives. They all were. It was going to take some time for them all to get over it.

‘Surprisingly well,’ his mother said. ‘Though of course neither of them are talking to Foster. Nor am I, come to that.’

‘Is he bothering you?’ Sam asked, climbing into his car. ‘If he’s still being an asshole you need to tell me, OK? I’ll speak to him if you want.’

‘Not really, my darling. He’s got his tail between his legs for now. He’s still in Paris at the moment, finishing things up there. I guess when he comes home we will talk, but until then I’m quite happy giving him the silent treatment. It’s a lot less than he deserves, after everything he did to you. I’m still not sure I can forgive him for that.’

Sam swallowed. He hadn’t told her everything, but then she didn’t need to know it all. It was in the past. Foster couldn’t hurt him any more.

The same day Sam had left Varenna to return to LA, Lucia and her daughters had caught a flight to London. They had left a very hung-over and sheepish Foster to return alone to Paris, where he’d committed to seeing out the season at a theatre there.