Forty minutes into the drive, I reached for one of the bottled waters. “So, tell me about this family and what’s going on tonight?”

“Right.” Gayle put the movie script she’d been reading aside and dug in her bag. She pulled out a huge packet of papers. “And before we get there, movies like this usually take five weeks, but this one might take longer. But don’t worry. I have everything handled with your schedule and, take this.” I did, and as I started to look through it, she started talking. “Peter Kellerman. He’s the main attraction for this movie because it’s based on his last wife’s death. The first one died long ago. Something health-related.”

Peter Kellerman. His photo and bio was on page one, along with an image of his latest hotel opening. “He has that hotel franchise?”

“Kellerman Hotels. It’s a global franchise, but his children are all in his newest venture. Realty. His oldest, Matthew . . .” I turned to the second page and there was Matthew’s image, along with a photo of him shaking the president’s hand. “He works for Peter. He oversees their operations on the East Coast. The other two are twins.”

I flipped the page again, and there were two separate images.

A girl was first, and the guy on the bottom half of the page.

“Abigail and Finley. They are both developers, and Kellerman Realty is currently on the rise in California because of them. They’re both good, damn good, at their jobs. Early thirties, thirty-two. And”—she motioned for me to turn the page again, so I did—“Finley is engaged to Jennifer Court. Now . . .” She took a breath, leveling me with a look. “Here’s the problem I see. I know you know Jennifer, but do I need to know how well you know her?”

My lip twitched into a crooked grin. “Are you asking if I slept with her?”

Her face remained impassive. She didn’t break a smile. “You don’t have female friends, and because you know her, I already know you slept with her. I’m asking if she is going to be a problem? Is there a reason for her to harbor resentment for you or hope to start up an affair again? They’re all going to be there. This movie is a big deal to them. It was their stepmother who was killed, and I’ve been told Jennifer is showing up too.”

Shit. “I know I’m an asshole, but I’m not the cheating kind of asshole.”

“You aren’t answering my question. Is she going to be a problem?”

I looked down and began reading through the bio Gayle had for Jennifer. “No, she won’t be. We parted on good terms, friendly terms.” I stressed the friendly part because it was true. Finishing reading what she had, my grin turned a little cocky. “And I know something you don’t have in here.” I held up the binder. “Jennifer is madly in love with her fiancé. The only way she’d look in my direction is if he turned out to be a cheating asshole and she found out about it.” I saw the warning flare in her eyes. “And no, I wouldn’t touch her even then. You have nothing to worry about. I will be professional.”

She grinned faintly. “Bad Boy Brody won’t make an appearance?”

I grimaced at what the media had dubbed me. “Bad Boy Brody will only show if I’m locked in my room and drunk and I don’t have an early call.”

Her lips pressed together again. “We’re in the middle of the mountains. I hope you use this project as a cleansing retreat. All that scenery and mountain air and shit.”

“I said I’d be professional. I’m not going to turn into a saint.”

She didn’t show any reaction, but I felt the disapproval from her.

Good thing I didn’t give a shit about that type of stuff either. I asked, “I read the script, but they never said why Karen Kellerman was killed.”

“What?”

I waved my finger at her, my grin mocking. “See. I pay attention. I have half the script already memorized.”

She shifted in her seat. “You’re one of the most sought-after actors right now. If you didn’t work hard before, none of that would’ve happened. I’m not surprised that you’ve read the script.”

No. She was surprised I already had half of it memorized, but she was right. Before Kyle’s death, I was one of the hardest working actors in the business. All the assholery had happened after. Still, I noted her surprise and made a mental note to maybe let up on some of the drinking for this movie. Some, not all. A guy still had his haunts.

“She was murdered by her first husband, right?”

Gayle nodded, turning to look out the window. After leaving Livingston, we’d turned onto a winding road, going up the side of a mountain.

She said, “The script just says it was a domestic abuse situation. She hid from her ex-husband, and when he found her, he murdered her.”

“Hmmm.” I shrugged, thumbing back through the binder she gave me. I paused on the bio about Peter Kellerman. This was my role. I needed to understand him the best I could. “He never remarried.”

“What?”

I tapped his image. “He never remarried. You said his last wife. That happened, what? Twenty years ago?”

“Eighteen years ago, and you’re right. He never did.”

He wore a fancy suit, no shock there. Unsmiling. His eyes were flat. His hair perfectly combed to the side. A speck of gray was showing, but most of it was black. Tanned so he spent time outside, but his hands were folded under his arms. It was as if he was squaring off against the camera, or whoever was behind the camera, or hell, maybe he was already challenging who would see this image of him.