That gets my attention. I raise an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yeah.” He smirks, but there’s something distant about it. “But that was a long time ago.”
“Do you miss it?” I ask, tilting my head.
Dan considers the question. “The money? Sure. But not the long hours. Or the time away from home. To be honest, acting feels like a lifetime ago. Sometimes I wonder if it even really happened, or if it’s just this weird story I used to tell.”
I watch him for a second, like there’s something unsaid just behind his smile. He says it so casually like it doesn’t matter anymore. But there’s something in the way his eyes linger on the wall, something wistful in his voice that he probably doesn’t even hear.
And I get it. I really do.
There’s a part of me that wants to press, ask more, prod a little at that closed door—but I don’t. Not yet.
Still, I can’t help the thought that slips in, uninvited.
He was someone once. Not just someone’s dad, or someone’s husband, or someone’s motel handyman. He was… bigger. Famous and successful, sure, but there was a version of him that stood in front of a camera or a crowd and believed—truly believed—that he had something to give.
I wonder what it would take to bring that version of him back.
He exhales, his gaze flicking back toward me. “And anyway, I have Chloe now. It’s just not a life that’s compatible with kids.”
I nod slowly, letting that sink in.
I’ve spent my whole life chasing the next big thing—success, recognition, my career-defining moment. Dan, it seems, has spent his, making sure he doesn’t repeat the past.
A glance at my watch makes me blink. Somehow, the night has slipped away without me noticing. The warmth of Dan’s company, the quiet of the waterfront, the easy rhythm of conversation—it all lulled me into a space I’m not used to. One where I wasn’t checking my phone, thinking about my next move, or strategizing my career path.
But reality nudges in. I should go.
I clear my throat, stretching slightly. “I should probably head out.”
“Yeah, it’s late.” He lifts the blanket from his legs and gets up. “You want me to drive you back to the motel?”
I shake my head. “You don’t have to do that. Chloe’s in bed, it’s too much trouble.”
“It’s no trouble.” He shrugs. “Or I could just call you a cab.”
I let out a small laugh. “That works too.”
We go back inside, and while he taps the app on his phone, I glance toward the staircase. The house is quiet now, the kind of deep stillness that comes when the world outside is sleeping. I can’t remember the last time I spent an evening like this—no work emails, no client calls, just… talking.
Dan slides his phone into his pocket. “It’ll be here in about eight minutes.”
I nod, suddenly feeling like I should say something. Acknowledge something.
“I’ll wait outside with you,” he says simply, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
And for some reason, I don’t argue.
FIVE
The aroma of fresh-brewed coffee swirls around me as I settle into a cozy corner booth at the local café just two blocks from my motel. My laptop glows invitingly, earbuds are secured, light jazz is playing, and a stack of notebooks sits ready for any brilliant ideas that might strike. It’s time to get to work.
“One black coffee and a blueberry muffin, please.” I smile at the waitress, my fingers already flying across the keyboard. Through a friend of a friend of someone who used to share a gym locker with him, I’ve managed to get the personal email address of one of the senior techs in the new product development division at Harcourt Foods. He’s not the decision maker, but if I can paint a convincing picture of what’s possible, he could prove to be an ally on the inside. I’ve sent a teaser pitch, now it’s just a waiting game for his reply.
The real test will be trying to use that meeting to get some face time with Old Man Harcourt himself—a notoriously prickly individual, I’m realizing as I unearth more and more of his previous interviews. I’m beginning to think he may call for my flayed body to be strung up on a flagpole for even suggesting the largest frozen chicken producer on the Eastern Seaboard diversifies into non-meat alternatives. It’s a gamble for sure, butI’ve done it with a hamburger chain, why not frozen meals? I glance up at the TV mounted on the wall, wincing at the news report.
“…the volcanic eruption continues to wreak havoc on air travel, with all flights grounded indefinitely as the ash cloud spreads further across the US…”