Page 3 of One Kind Hand

Charlie: Send me the deets and I’m on my way.

Taking a few deep breaths, she gripped the steering wheel, happy to have a job to go on. Because what was wrong with her? Fantasizing about an actor was for rabid fans.

For losers.

Charlie Moyen was no loser.

But she was definitely watching an Austin Rayhill movie before bed tonight.

****

Austin Rayhill stretched out his legs on his private plane. His agent, Cody Kirkland, was seated across from him, his head bent over a tablet as he took care of various things. Austin didn’t care what those things were. Cody oversaw all that crap so Austin could concentrate on learning his lines and charming audiences. He loved acting, but the business side of it didn’t interest him one bit. Playing roles gave him a high like nothing else and he’d almost do it for free.

But he wasn’t an idiot. Besides, he needed the money he made on each film to support his four—

His eyes immediately stung as he’d almost forgotten that he only had three sisters now. Not four. Summer, his youngest sister had passed from a drug overdose a few months ago. If he’d only known her music career had linked her with people who were attracted to her fame and her beauty, but who didn’t actually give a shit about Summer, he could have done something. They’d gotten her involved in drugs and partying hard. Dangerously hard. Fatally hard.

The last time he’d seen Summer she’d been recording new tracks and had appeared to be doing fine. As her brother, however, Austin should have been able to see beyond the façade and realize she needed help.

He’d failed her. Not the first time he’d failed people and it never got easier to accept.

But he vowed not to fail his remaining three sisters, twenty-eight-year-old triplets named Morgan, Claire, and Brooke. Austin would give them whatever they needed, whenever they needed it. Their parents had been gone since Austin was eighteen—another thing he didn’t like to think about—and taking care of his sisters had fallen to him. He’d thought he’d been doing a good job, but financial support was apparently not enough. He had to keep tabs on his sisters too, though the triplets didn’t have careers where they could fall into the wrong crowd as Summer had.

They didn’t have any careers at all. Maybe that was his fault too. Austin hadn’t given them any reason to want careers or financial independence. He’d made it real easy for them to spend his money. But he didn’t need all the money he made on movies. He was just one guy. Giving money to his sisters gave him a . . . purpose. Maybe it made up for his past mistakes too.

“What do you think of that script?” Cody asked him, drawing Austin out of his musings.

He gestured down to his lap where said script rested. “It’s good. Might be my favorite one yet.”

“I knew it was a good fit.”

“You’re good at your job, Cody,” Austin said. “It’s why I keep you around.”

Cody raised a fist in victory. “I know what roles you like to play and which ones your fans will go apeshit over.” He got up and planted himself in the seat beside Austin’s then tapped the script with his index finger. “This puppy has apeshittery written all over it. Did you get to the main fight scene yet?”

Austin shook his head. “Not yet.”

“It’s epic.” Cody gave him a nod of assurance. “You’re going to love it. We’ll put all that martial arts training to good use.”

“Cool.”

Austin loved physical roles. He did all his own stunts. Except for anything in the water. A shudder worked down his spine at the mere thought of being surrounded by water. He’d taken an unexpected dunk once. The results had left scars on his psyche that would never be erased.

And what the hell was with him today. Thinking of Summer and his parents and that water experience all in the same day. He needed to clear the bad aura that had enveloped him before they arrived in Vermont or he’d be in no condition to learn the lines still resting in his lap.

“Can I get you something to drink, Mr. Rayhill?” a member of the flight crew asked as she leaned against Cody’s seat. Her big brown eyes and pouty lips were one hundred percent aimed at Austin. As were her boobs that were barely contained by her button-down white shirt.

He should be used to that by now, but sometimes he wasn’t in the mood to wear the Austin Rayhill Movie Star skin. Especially when he was merely flying in a plane. One that he owned and shouldn’t have to be in the spotlight while aboard it.

“Have you met Melanie?” Cody asked, immediately sensing that Austin might not be his usual charming self with the woman. “She’s new.”

“I haven’t.” Austin’s manners kicked in and he extended a hand—and a signature Austin Rayhill grin—her way. “Nice to meet you.”

Melanie slid her hand against his, her long fingers gripping possessively as she shook. “A pleasure, Mr. Rayhill.” She held the handshake for a moment too long before releasing her hold. “Would you like a beverage, a snack, or . . . something else?” She angled her head back toward the bathroom which Austin knew firsthand was large enough for some serious sexual gymnastics.

He was tired of meaningless sexual gymnastics though. Sure, they provided a physical release and some of his partners had been . . . creative and . . . limber, but at thirty-two shouldn’t he be looking for something with more substance? He had no idea how long his fame would last. What would he have when his acting days were over? He’d still have his money because his financial advisor was wise about investing what he made, but would dollars and possessions make him happy?

Austin had a nagging feeling they wouldn’t. And neither would hooking up with Melanie in the plane’s bathroom.