Chapter 1
Sadie
“Look what the cat dragged in.” My brother grins at me from behind the bar. “If it isn’t Hollywood’s finest TV cop.”
“Happy birthday, Sam.” I head toward him with widespread arms. “It’s good to see you.”
“Ditto and ditto.” Sam gathers me in his arms. “Are you ready for an epic party?”
I want to shake my head. I’m tired after having finished the relentless, against-the-clock period of shooting that always happens before the yearly hiatus of our show. I’d much rather have a quiet drink with my twin brother to celebrate our fortieth birthday, but that’s not Sam’s style and I don’t want to be a downer from the get-go.
“Sure.” I step back to get a good look at him. Owning The Bay beach bar doesn’t seem to have affected his wholesome North-Cali surfer boy looks. His skin is golden brown, his hair streaked with sunlit blond highlights, and his body looks as trim as it was when we were in our senior year of high school.
The door to the back room swings open and a blonde girl who doesn’t look a day over twenty-one walks out. My mind races to what has always been the obvious conclusion—that she’s my brother’s latest age-inappropriate conquest—but Sam swiftly puts me straight.
“This is Cassidy, my most valued employee.”
Cassidy brings her hands to her mouth. “Wow. Sadie Ireland in the flesh. It’s such an honor.” She holds out her hand. “I adore King & Prince. I watch it all the time.”
I’m of half a mind to tell her that the very last scenes ever with both King and Prince were shot last week, but I’m contractually forbidden from doing so.
“Thank you.” Since Cassidy is my brother’s employee—and possibly more than that—I shake her hand warmly.
“Will you be in town a while?” Cassidy asks.
“I might very well be.” I catch my brother’s gaze. I’ll be staying with him to recover from what has been an emotionally draining ten months of divorcing my co-star while simultaneously shooting a show together.
“I’ll see you around then.” Cassidy isn’t the lingering type of fangirl, then. She disappears into the back room again.
I shoot my brother a look that can’t be misinterpreted.
“It’s not what you think,” he says. “She’s the best employee I’ve ever had and I’m not about to mess that up.”
“How old is she?”
“Old enough to work in a bar,” is all he says.
Noise comes from the back. A car door slams shut, and I hear animated voices.
“That must be the caterers,” Sam says. “You relax with a beer on the deck. Look out over the ocean and contemplate the first forty years of your life.” He runs a hand through his thick hair. The man doesn’t look a day over thirty.
He reaches into the fridge behind him, takes out a bottle, twists off the cap, and hands it to me.
“Do you honestly believe that anyone who works on-screen in Hollywood actually drinks beer?” We’ve had this conversation many times.
“You’re forty today and recently divorced. Have the beer. Take all the comfort you can find.”
“Sam!” someone shouts from the back.
“I know I’m only twenty minutes older than you, but do as I say, anyway.” With that, he turns around and disappears through the door to the back, leaving me alone in the bar.
I head out, beer in hand, and take a seat on a stool lining the deck, overlooking the waves. I drag my gaze away from the sea for a minute to study the bottle I’m holding. The beer is called Surfer Juice IPA, which probably means it sells well in these parts. I scan the label to see if any new local breweries have sprouted up since I last visited. Lennox Breweries. Not a small-batch local brew then.
I take a sip. I haven’t had a beer in months—not since Sam came to Los Angeles for a few weeks last March to support me through the worst of the fall-out after my divorce from Mike. Sometimes, when you’re being chased by paps, you need your twin brother’s ridiculously muscular arm around you to shield you from the never-ending scrutiny.
The beer tastes crisp and light and I feel myself relax. It’s hard not to with this view. It’s quiet on the boardwalk between the bar and the beach—the calm before the big birthday storm Sam has planned, no doubt.
It suddenly hits me that I didn’t offer to help Sam and Cassidy set up for the party. I’m about to go back in to offer my services when I hear footsteps approach.
“I came straight from work,” Suzy, my older sister, says, followed by a shriek worthy of a teenage girl at a boy band concert.
I get up to hug her, using the time it takes to throw my arms around her to remember what Suzy’s current job is. Even though we speak on the phone several times a week, it’s hard to keep up with my sister’s employment—a bit like Sam and his women. My sister’s quest for the ultimate professional fulfillment has had her job-hopping for decades.
“I did my first solo coaching call,” Suzy says as I sink into her embrace.
Oh, yes. She works as some sort of life coach on the internet.
“I knocked it out of the park with my quick thinking skills. My boss was so complimentary after, I could hardly believe it.”
I let my sister rattle on for as long as she likes. It’s her thing. The first ten minutes of any conversation between us are spent exactly like this until she’s gotten everything that’s on her mind off her chest. After which she fixes her gaze on me, and asks me, the way I imagine she asks her clients, how I’m doing and what I’m struggling with these days. Come to think of it, maybe life coach is a great profession for Suzy.
“We are complete.” Sam has ventured outside.
“Oh, Sam,” Suzy says. “I invited Devon last-minute. I hope that’s okay.”
“The more, the merrier,” Sam says. “You know that.”
“Sam’s convinced tonight will be epic,” Suzy says.
“You only turn forty once,” Sam replies. “And I’m not the only one.”
I missed our joint thirtieth birthday party because of reshoots that couldn’t possibly be rescheduled and our thirty-fifth because, that season, a few episodes of King & Prince were shot on location in Mexico. But fifteen years on the same prime-time TV show have earned me, alongside the habitual executive producer credit, a bit more say over my schedule. I made it abundantly clear I wouldn’t miss another big birthday party because of the show’s shooting schedule.
“To an epic party with my two favorite people in the world.” I hold up my half-empty beer.
I let my gaze glide over Suzy and Sam. They fall into their easy brother-sister banter. I lean against the railing and, with the ocean behind me and my brother and sister within touching distance in front of me, I revel in the soothing sensation of coming home.
I need it now more than ever.
