Caro Carson - Her Texas Rescue Doctor

But Sophia didn’t want her lollipop anymore. She didn’t want to be a respected actress with a loyal fan base, not since she’d fallen in with the bad boys of Hollywood. “Let’s skip the squealing mass of girlies. What do I have to do before we can get the hell out of here?”

“Oh, Sophie.” Grace’s heart felt like a stone in her chest. It was a hard thing, very hard, to watch Sophia throw away everything for which she’d worked.

“Don’t start with me. What am I required to do? Tell me the bare minimum. I’m so freaking tired.”

Grace supposed clubbing all night could do that to a girl. Sophie coughed that annoying cough that had started shortly after dating Deezee Kalm, a DJ in Los Angeles. Grace always felt like she was choking on the secondhand smoke at his parties, when she was forced to go. Thankfully, Sophie hadn’t been photographed with a cigarette in her hand yet. Accusations would fly that she was a bad role model. That would tarnish her good-girl image, the very image Grace was trying to save with this trip to Texas.

“This is a really good cause. Texas Rescue and Relief has done so much here in Austin after those terrible flash floods last summer. You’re going to thank the firemen and the—the helicopter people, whatever they’re called—and some doctors, and then you’re going to cut the ribbon to reopen this health clinic.”

“Good God, Grace. Could you have booked anything more stupid?”

The stone in Grace’s chest wasn’t hard enough to deflect that stab of a knife. Don’t confront her. Don’t challenge her. Offer her a lollipop.

“Your hero, Julia, did almost the exact same thing after California’s forest fires. She trended on Twitter. Her visit was covered on all the celebrity gossip TV shows. Now her next movie is already getting award buzz, and it won’t be released for months. Coincidence? No way.”

Grace reached up to touch Sophia’s hair again, a comforting gesture she’d been doing her whole life. After all, she wasn’t just Sophia’s personal assistant. She was her sister.

Grace would be the worst sister in the world if she stood by and watched her sister self-destruct.

“I’ve already got a Golden Globe,” Sophia said.

“Julia’s got two. And an Oscar.” Grace nodded out the window toward the cluster of Texas Rescue personnel who were setting up the ribbon-cutting ceremony. “Go be Sophia Jackson, talented and gracious. You could jump in there and help set up right now. Everyone would talk about how down-to-earth you are, how you don’t stand on ceremony.”

But her superstar sister’s cell phone chimed in the tote bag.

Sophia snapped her gum. “Or you could give me my phone so I’m not stuck in the middle of nowhere with nobody to talk to.”

“Austin isn’t nowhere.”

And when did I become nobody?

Instead of defending herself, Grace defended their location. “Austin is a hot ticket in March, you know. It wasn’t easy to get a hotel room because South by Southwest just started. The director of Texas Rescue had to call in some favors in town.”

Sophia glared at her.

“You know South by Southwest. The fringe festival. Bands, indie movies, art—kind of edgy stuff. Why don’t I get the hotel to extend our stay for the week? This is a really hip event. We could have fun.”

“I know what the hell South by Southwest is. I just don’t care.”

Grace had always been the one who listened while Sophia brainstormed career goals. Grace tried to start a little session now. “Being seen here might add another dimension to your image. People might start thinking of you for projects that have more of an indie vibe, like a Juno or a Fargo.”

“I am not sticking around here for a week of low-budget fringe films, and I’m not going out there to cut a stupid ribbon until I absolutely have to.”

Grace knew better than to push the point. “Okay, we’ll chill out here in their van until they’re ready for you. Then you can go and shake hands like you’re Kate Middleton. They’ll love you, the studios will love you, and your agent will get you the best roles in the industry.”

“Are little bluebirds going to start circling my head while I act like a princess? This is seriously stupid.” Sophia gestured toward Grace’s tote bag. “Check and see if that’s Deezee on the phone. He wants me. Tonight.”

“He wants you? You mean...like...a booty call? He actually calls you to tell you when he wants...” Grace couldn’t finish the sentence.

“You are so last decade. Booty just means butt. By the way, Deezee says the bubble butt is last decade, so I’m not going to get the surgery now.”

Grace felt ill. She didn’t know Sophia had even considered having a plastic surgeon implant anything in her naturally perfect figure.

“He can tell if a girl’s had implants during sex. He’s so impressed that I haven’t had any work done yet.”

Grace wanted to stick her fingers in her ears and say not listening, just as she had when they were children and Sophia had explained the birds and bees to her. “I don’t want to hear about his sexual turn-ons.”

“Then stop being obsessed with my phone calls. Get your own sex life. When’s the last time you got any?” She shoved Grace’s tote bag with the toe of her spike-heeled sandal. “Back when people still used the term booty call, I guess.”

Grace had to look away. Her sister, of all people, ought to know that she had no social life. Managing all the little daily details for Sophia was a never-ending job. Sophia’s career dictated where they lived, who they saw, what they did—even what Grace wore. Her wardrobe consisted of dozens of outfits like the gray sweater and slacks she wore now. Years ago, she and her sister had figured out that wearing all black made Grace appear like a noticeable blot of darkness when she was caught in the background of a candid photo of Sophia, so Grace wore earth tones with a bit of heather, or sometimes gray with specks of beige and black. That was the best way to disappear into the background.

Not that Grace was complaining. She loved her sister. She only wished her sister would go back to being her normal self. When they were a sisterly duo, she hadn’t minded living Sophia’s life. This new phase was making her question everything.

She pretended the view outside the van was interesting, but the restored health clinic was only a normal-sized building in a normal suburb of a normal city. The ribbon-cutting ceremony was about to begin, so the men and women of Texas Rescue were taking their places.

She’d bet those people were married and had children and rewarding jobs. Grace and Sophia had once had that kind of normalcy, back when their parents were still alive. How could Sophia go from seeing their parents’ loving marriage to jumping at the beck and call of a no-talent egomaniac like Deezee?

Of the two of them, Sophia had always been the bigger sucker for true love and weddings and happily-ever-after. She’d put all that on hold for her acting career, until this winter with Deezee. Maybe this phase meant Sophia was lonely. Maybe Grace could help her find a better man. A normal man.

Grace gestured out the window. “Check out these Texas Rescue guys. This looks like a casting call for an action movie—but they’re real. I bet not one of those guys has chin implants or hair extensions. Real firemen and real doctors and paramedics and, um, police-looking guys. Rangers? What do you think that uniform is?”

“Like I care.” Sophia sat up straighter, ready to talk business. “Listen, Deezee is opening a new club tonight. He needs me there to help him get more press.”

Grace looked away from the handsome men of the real world. If Sophia wanted to talk business, they’d talk business. “Deezee could have his people contact me with a little more notice next time, and maybe we’ll be able to schedule an appearance, if his career needs help.”