Grin and Beard It(55)

He was the first person I truly respected to ever tell me, “I’m proud of you.” It meant something, his pride, because I cared a great deal about his opinion.

Never mind the fact that he was more than a year my junior.

“Fine.” Cletus acquiesced, banging the table once. “But don’t make any more ignorant statements unless you bring me more coffee. I can’t deal with ignorance without another cup of coffee.”

Drew almost smiled, almost, but then turned a sober expression on me. “What is it you’re thinking he’s planning?”

I shrugged. “I have no idea. It could be anything. It could be nothing, just mind games. But if Sienna and I were really together, I’m sure he’d try to exploit it.”

Cletus banged on the table again. “Now you listen here. Don’t use Darrell Winston as an excuse to push that fine woman away. I already told you in the truck on the way over here, I have that man well and truly under control.”

“Are you going to share your methods?” Drew asked evenly. “Or do we not want to know?”

“You don’t want to know,” Cletus responded, just as evenly.

“So we’re just supposed to trust you?” Roscoe asked, clearly disbelieving.

“Roscoe Orwell Winston, you are making ignorant statements again.” Cletus’s tone was flat. “Now you have to buy me two cups of coffee.”

“That wasn’t a statement, it was a question.”

“Ignorant questions cost two cups, so now you’re up to buying my next three coffees.”

“I trust Cletus,” Drew said, holding my eyes. “If he said he has it under control, he has it under control.”

I said nothing, because I also trusted Cletus. I trusted him with my life.

But I didn’t know if I trusted him—or anyone else for that matter—with Sienna’s.





CHAPTER 14


“Stephen kissed me in the spring,

Robin in the fall,

But Colin only looked at me

And never kissed at all.



Stephen’s kiss was lost in jest,

Robin’s lost in play,

But the kiss in Colin’s eyes

Haunts me night and day.”

― Sara Teasdale, The Collected Poems



~Sienna~

At least one person was happy about the dissolution of my non-affair with capable and sexy Ranger Jethro. Marta. Well, she wasn’t specifically thrilled about the terrible date or Jethro’s decision to extract himself from my life because she didn’t know about that.

She was happy because I’d become even more of a wretched workaholic.

“Wow, Sienna. I’m speechless.” I heard Marta flipping pages, going through the first draft of my latest script. “How did you get so much work done on this?”

“I haven’t been able to sleep.” I’d spent the last two weeks since our disastrous first date working like a mad woman. I’d also been spending my time listening to the Breakup Songs station on XM radio and daydreaming about the children I would never have with Jethro Winston.

They would have had his eyes and my dimples.

Ugh. I didn’t recognize myself. Who was this pitiful person? We’d gone on one date. One date.

One date, crazy lady. It was just one disastrous date. One epic kiss. So stop picking out names for your children.

“Can’t wait to dig into Smash-Girl, huh?” She laughed lightly at what she assumed was impatience to finish my current work in progress so I could get moving on the superhero movie.

Little did she know . . .

Over the last weeks, since my disastrous dinner with Jethro, every hour I wasn’t rehearsing or filming, I was writing. Or I was giving telephone interviews. Or I was getting shit done. I’d cut my sleep from six hours a night to four, because I hadn’t wanted to lay down unless ready to pass out.

I was lonely, and yet I refused to do anything about it. Hank had called several times, and I’d made excuses. Both Janice and Jon had invited me along on their excursions, but I’d turned them down, preferring to work and be antisocial.

Ranger Jethro was proving difficult to forget.

“Barnaby wasn’t expecting this until next month. He’ll be thrilled.”

“Yay,” I deadpanned then shook myself. My sister didn’t deserve my bad attitude. She wasn’t responsible for my current funk.

I was.

I was responsible.

“So, the London premiere.” Marta switched topics. She was all business this morning.

“Yes. The premiere.” The dumb premiere.

Again, I had to shake myself. I was being negative, throwing my mood around like rice at a wedding. No one wanted my bad-mood wedding rice. No one.

I tried once more, forcing cheerfulness into my voice. “So, the London premiere. I was thinking, what if I took Dad?”