It was a rush for Shay to make dinner with her family on time because she had to go across town to get to Sawyer's house. They rarely ate out as a family because they drew too much attention. Her parents, Reyna and Carson, refused to own property in New York, and Sullivan's house was an atrocious abomination to all who entered.
Shay thought that perhaps now that Sullivan was engaged, his finance, Ophelia, would make a better home for them.
"Hello, Momma," Shay greeted her mother with a kiss on the cheek as Ophelia led the way into the living room.
Sawyer had always had excellent taste, and his brownstone proved it. The historical wood gleamed under the glow of soft lamps, and the plush couches and chairs that were early 20th century in design invited one to sit and chat. There was also no television to be seen which made one feel that they were in another era.
Shay knew for a fact that Sawyer had restored the 1920s brownstone down to the last detail, which included a pink bathroom. Shay had teased him about being in touch with his feminine side, and he had assured her that he had done it so Sullivan would feel more at home.
"Hello dear," Reyna said, accepting the kiss before scanning her daughter. "Something's different," she insisted, making everyone turn to look at Shay.
"Her tail is well hidden, Momma," Sawyer teased, "and the horns didn't grow back."
"Haha," Shay said, accepting the glass of wine her brother handed her.
Her father, Carson, who was called Pops, glided into the room and looked at them all while holding a large butcher knife in his hand. "I must insist that you keep the noise down, people. A great chef must be able to focus on his masterpiece."
They all turned to look at Pops, a method actor who lived his parts, and after a moment of silence, he nodded and left the room again.
"Let me guess, he's playing a chef," Shay said as she sat next to her mother.
"Yes, but Momma has plenty of kitchen help to ensure he doesn't burn the house down." Sawyer smiled as he joined them.
"Is that where Ophelia snuck off to?" Shay asked, noticing that she had disappeared as soon she had let Shay into the house.
"Either that or she went to tell Sully you're here. He's probably hanging out in the pink bathroom again." Sawyer smirked. He wasn't one to let a good joke go.
"I was actually talking to the distributor about the upcoming launch of the movie we shot at Oak Island," Sullivan said as he entered the room. "I'm trying to further all of our careers."
"Yes, dear. It's good of you to do," Reyna assured him as she continued to eye Shay.
"What?" Shay insisted as she turned to look at her mother.
"What's happened?" Reyna's eyes narrowed.
"I got a promotion at work," Shay boasted a little.
"You met a man." Sullivan's voice was unimpressed and matter of fact.
Shay spun to look at him, shocked that he had picked up on her recent flirtation, and a flirtation was all that it was, she silently reminded herself. Sullivan had always been a master at reading people. It was what made him such a good director.
"She did!" Sawyer exclaimed as he watched Shay's reaction.
"My Pookie has a boyfriend?" Pops said as she stuck his head around the corner.
"I thought you were in the kitchen cooking!" Shay accused. "And you've never called me Pookie in your life!"
"Phee is putting out the fire," Pops explained, waving his hand in the air like it was a nonevent while Sullivan jumped up and rushed toward the kitchen to save Ophelia.
Sawyer appeared unconcerned that his house was on fire as he studied Shay.
"I don't think you've ever had a boyfriend. You date plenty, but none of them stick." Sawyer pointed out the obvious.
"I've had them. You've just never met them," Shay threw out. "However, I do not have one now, for the record." She stood up to pour herself another glass of wine. "I really did get a promotion at work."
"Doing what, dear?" Reyna asked.
"I'll be the assistant to Nathan Wright, the company director." Shay's hand shook a little as she poured her wine.
"According to Paloma, he's hot," Sawyer said. "I met him at a fundraiser with Paloma a few years back, and he had plenty of women swarming around him. Maybe you'll get lucky. I have an idea!" Sawyer jumped up and called Sullivan.
"What!" Sullivan said, sticking his head around the door.
"Shay's going to fall in love with her boss. Do you think we could make a movie out of it?" Sawyer looked eager at the idea, but whether he was serious or not was lost on Shay. She had a hard time reading her brother's jokes sometimes.
"Your kitchen is on fire, Sawyer," Sullivan growled.
"It can't be that serious. I don't smell smoke or hear the smoke detectors going off. Besides, I have insurance." He waved.
"Leave Shay alone," Sullivan told him. "You caused enough trouble between Ophelia and me. You don't need to do the same with Shay and her boss." He disappeared back into the kitchen.
"Should I order take-out? I'm hungry!" Sawyer called.
"Yes!" Sullivan called back.
"I'm sorry I caught your kitchen on fire, son," Pops said as he eased into a chair, and Shay noticed that he was looking older for the first time.
"That's alright, dear," Reyna patted Pop's hand. "Sawyer doesn't mind about such things, and we'll let you arrange the food like your cooked it."
That seemed to brighten Pops up, and he nodded.
Shay wasn't paying attention to her family as she thought about the fact that Nate ran in Paloma Clark circles. There was no way that Shay could hold a candle, even on her best day, to the beautiful Paloma Clark, actress extraordinaire. And if he did run in those circles, how had she never met him before?
Sullivan and Ophelia's dog, Polly, wandered into the room and plopped down on the rug at their feet with a yawn.
"Well, at least she survived the fire," Sawyer said as he typed on his phone. "Maybe one of us should see if the others are alive?"
"I'll go. They're probably just avoiding you and your bad mood." Shay walked towards the kitchen as she realized the Sawyer was extra snarky, which meant he was in a rotten mood.
When she entered the kitchen, it was to find Ophelia and Sullivan sitting at the kitchen table with glasses of wine.
"What's up with Sawyer. He's in a foul mood." Shay sat across from them, not the least bit surprised that the only fire burning was under a pot on the stove.
"He's not talking about it," Ophelia softly said with a shrug. "How are you doing, Shay?" she asked, changing the subject, which meant she knew something, but she wasn't going to share.
"I start a new job on Monday as assistant to the big boss," Shay sipped her wine.
"That's wonderful, Shay. I know you've worked hard for it. Maybe it will help you get caught up on a few of your bills," Ophelia congratulated her.
"Thanks," Shay nodded. She had never made a secret of the fact that she was having a hard time making ends meet, but it was always nice that someone remembered how hard she was trying to succeed.
"I don't know why you don't pull from your trust fund," Sullivan pointed out as he pulled out his phone and read the screen. "Sawyer ordered Indian food."
"Because I need to know that, should that money never be there, I can make it on my own. You and Sawyer have already proven that and never touch your trust fund, and I need to learn to do the same thing," Shay explained it for the millionth time.
"I get it, Shay, but Sawyer and I lived off the money until we were financially stable. I don't understand why you can't do the same thing?" Sullivan asked.
"It's different, that's all. I need to be financially independent." Shay sighed. They would never understand. It wasn't just about the money. It was also about self-respect. She had lost it long ago and was doing her best to earn a little of it back.
"Where's the fire?" Sawyer asked as he entered the kitchen with his arms crossed.
"There," Sullivan said as he pointed to the burner turned on high, boiling a pot of water.
"I ordered Indian food for dinner." Sawyer's smile was not so sweet.
"I hate Indian food," Sullivan replied.
"I know," Sawyer said, taking the bottle of wine off the table and walking out again.
Shay smiled. It was good to spend time with the family again. She needed to do it more often.