blue romper. Her close-cropped black hair, sprayed and coiffed to perfection, barely moved as she approached.
Mia’s lips spread into a plastic smile that showed most of her teeth. “Hey, Sierra.”
“Hello, Mia.” She’d spoken to her, and hoped that would be the end of their interaction.
To her chagrin, Mia continued. “So, are you ready for this scene? The script says we’re supposed to be arguing today.”
What kind of silly question is that? What, does she think I just roll up to the set without reading the damn script? Gathering her patience, she nodded. “I know, and yes, I’m ready.”
“Arguing with you isn’t that hard for me.” She looked off to the side in a dramatic fashion. “Since I don’t really like you that much.”
She sighed. “And why is that, Mia?”
Mia’s wayward gaze returned to Sierra’s face. “You’re a fading flower that refuses to acknowledge the new blossoms in the garden.” She reached up to adjust a tendril of hair by her ear.
Sierra tipped her head to one side, offering a cold smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Mia, you’re an intelligent girl. You even turn a decent metaphor. But there are a lot of things about this industry that you just don’t know.”
Folding her arms over her chest, Mia snapped, “So what? I’m young, I’ve got talent and determination, and that’s all I need.”
“If only that were true.” Sierra had been in the game long enough to know the kinds of pitfalls that awaited budding actresses. She’s going to need more than her looks and her stubbornness if she really wants to make it. In any other case, she’d be reaching out to mentor a young actress just starting out in the business. But it was clear Mia was more interested in being catty than in learning from someone more experienced.
Jazmin walked over then. Taking a moment to look from one to the other, she paused, then stood between them. Her expression said she sensed the tension hanging in the air. “Everything okay over here, ladies? We’re getting ready to start the filming.”
Sierra nodded tightly, because she was eager to get through the scene and away from the “fatal blossom.”
“Oh, everything’s fine between us,” Mia trilled. “My mother taught me to always respect my elders.” On the heels of her declaration, she turned and strutted away.
A deep sigh left Sierra’s lips.
Jazmin touched her shoulder. “Remember your promise, Sierra.”
“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten. I’m going to keep it professional, whether she does or not.” Like she’d said before, Sierra never messed around when it came to her money. She loved her role on the show, and she intended to keep this job going for as long as she could.
And in spite of Mia’s funky attitude, she wasn’t about to let a naive, cocky little upstart interfere with her earning potential.
Drawing a deep breath, she went to take her mark for the start of the scene. It called for her to be standing next to Mia, near the door of the deli. Ignoring Mia’s smug expression, she waited.
When the cameras and lights turned her way, she came alive.
* * *
With a cup of coffee in hand, Campbell Monroe reclined against the cushioned backrest of the bench. He was sitting in a booth at Della’s, enjoying a late lunch. It had been past two when he’d finally left the office and made the quick drive to the restaurant. Now, as the three o’clock hour neared, he was capping off his lunch with a cup of coffee and a slice of Della’s famous apple crumb cake.
He figured the late lunch would make the perfect segue into his next meeting. A client had requested to meet him here, to discuss the possibility of purchasing a condominium. He’d told the woman it would take some work to secure a unit, and he’d meant it. Since Devon Franklin had opened his newly built studio about two months ago, and started filming his show The Shores almost immediately after, Sapphire Shores had seen a large influx in population. The show’s talent, crew and studio employees had moved onto the island, mixing with the already robust crowd of tourists, to create a perfect storm of growth. Since Monroe Holdings, Incorporated, the real estate empire started by Campbell’s parents, owned most of the properties on the island, business was brisker than ever.
He pushed away the ceramic plate, which now held only crumbs as evidence of the cake he’d devoured. One of Della’s staff members dutifully whisked the plate away, just as he saw the lady he was to meet with entering. She was older than him, in her mid-to upper fifties, he guessed, and she moved with an air of certainty and grace.
Campbell stood as she approached the booth, extending his hand to her. “Mrs. Fairbanks. Lovely to see you.”
She nodded, shook his head. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Monroe.”
He gestured to the bench across the table from him. “Please, have a seat. Let’s talk about what you’re looking for.”
She nodded and slipped into the seat.
He sat once she was settled. “Would you like anything before we get started? A beverage? Maybe some of Della’s apple crumb cake?”
She shook her head. “No, thanks.” Pushing her gold, wire-rimmed glasses up on the bridge of her nose, she fixed her gaze on him. “I’m looking for a nice, low-maintenance place I can use as a vacation retreat during the colder months. Winters are brutal up in Philadelphia, and I’d love to have a place I can escape to before the snow hits.”
“Sounds reasonable. We’ve had an influx of folks coming onto the island recently, so you’ll need a healthy budget in order to secure a unit at this point.” He scratched his chin, waiting. He’d been property manager at MHI for over a decade now, and he never used a hard sell. He simply listened to his clients and tried to meet their needs.
She quoted a number. “Will that be enough?”
He smiled. “Certainly. I have just the place in mind for you.” With her generous budget, she’d have her pick of some of the choicest units in Cape Glenn or Shoreside Manor, the two most upscale developments on the island. “You’ll have a lot of flexibility with that.”
“Great. I figured units would be hard to come by, what with the show filming here and all that.”
His brow hitched. “So, you know about The Shores?”
She nodded, her expression brightening. “Sure do. I love that show.” She looked wistful for a moment. “My late husband was always on me about watching the soaps, but I never did give them up. I love a messy plot.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “From what I heard, messy plot is at the heart of the show.”
“You don’t watch it?”
“No. Can’t say I have much free time these days.” Since his little sister, Hadley, had married actor-turned-producer-and-studio-head Devon Franklin, she’d been pulling a lot fewer hours at the office. That meant that the pile of work he often left for her went unfinished, unless he did it himself. Her absence had forced him to take on more of the workload than he was accustomed to.
“To be honest—” she lowered her voice to a whisper “—that’s why I wanted to meet you at Della’s. It says on the website that the show films here sometimes, and I’m hoping to catch a bit of the action while I’m here.”
Amused, he nodded. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll luck out.” He’d seen the headlines in the local paper, and the reviews comparing the show to the old nighttime soaps like Knot’s Landing. While his mother had been a fan of those shows, he didn’t really remember much about them. So far, the only compelling reason he saw to watch was Sierra.
“I hope so.” His client glanced around, then pointed to the wall mural depicting an undersea scene. “I recognize