High Tide

by Michelle Mankin

  “Well, maybe you can. But only because I know what’s under all that shi—stuff.”

  “Thank you.”

  “For the compliment?”

  “No. For spending time with me. My life is pretty crazy, and it’s a lot of trouble to go out and spend the day together like we did, like normal people do.”

  “Time with you when it’s just the two of us, even with you dressed ridiculously like this, is something I desire the most.”

  Warmth bloomed in my chest and spread outward as he took my hand and held it.

  “So, this diner?” Max gestured with his head. He was nearly as unrecognizable as I was with a black knit cap covering his hair and black-framed tinted lenses hiding his beautiful blue eyes. “It’s pretty over-the-top decor wise.”

  “Is it?” I glanced around, trying to look at it through his eyes. “All the I HEART NEW YORK paraphernalia, you mean?”

  “Yes, and every cliché for the city so nice they named it twice.” He released my hand to pick up the salt shaker with that saying.

  “They have the best pancakes in town, and you can buy souvenirs to take back home at the same time. I’m not all that sophisticated in my tastes, if you haven’t already figured that out. If it weren’t for Olivia and Ernie glamming me up . . .” I sputtered. Thinking of my best friend and me being on the outs made my heart hurt. “Well, anyway . . .”

  “Do you want to talk about it? About him?”

  I shook my head and glanced away.

  “Hey. Scoot over.” Max suddenly moved over to my side of the booth and threw his arm around me. “Don’t withdraw from me.”

  “I didn’t mean to. It’s just that sometimes it hits me.”

  “You have a lot going on right now.”

  “And a dwindling list of people that I can count on.” My own doing, I knew, but it being the right thing to do didn’t make the isolation any less painful.

  “Let the outside world do what it’s going to do. We can’t control it. But here . . .” He gestured to both of us, then made a bracket of his hands with us in it with his thumbs pointed inward. “You and me inside the frame is all that really matters, right?”

  “Yes.” Tears pricked my eyes. “Absolutely.”

  • • •

  “Hurry, Hollie.” Olivia passed me my wedge sandals as they came off the conveyer belt, and I tried to balance on one foot to get them back on while she and Max gathered everything that the TSA agents had scattered. I believed it was more practical to dress for my destination city, but practical or not, the complicated buckles on the trendy LA-appropriate shoes were slowing me down.

  Yes, even celebrities had to go through security at the airport just like everyone else. The only perk? We had a dedicated checkpoint we went through alongside all the other VIPs.

  “Hollie,” someone called, and I tensed, anticipating paparazzi. “Hollie Lesowski, it is you.”

  Older but still as handsome as ever, Cedric Wells stepped into view.

  “Let me help you.” No longer a mere teen idol but now a megastar, he offered me his hand to lean on so I could refasten the buckle on my sandal. “You’re looking as beautiful as ever.”

  Since my debut speaking part in the show with him as a fairy godmother, I had seen him at celebrity events here and there over the years.

  “How are you?” He leaned closer to whisper in my ear. “Really?”

  I leaned back and glanced at him sharply. I didn’t know what Cedric’s angle was, but I was far from looking beautiful. My hair was pulled back in a ponytail, with a headband around that to cover up the leftover white goth makeup I hadn’t had time to rinse off properly. And I was in yoga pants and a I HEART NEW YORK T-shirt that I knew would forever remind me of my day in the city with Max.

  “No one’s watching us, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Cedric glanced around again, then smiled mischievously. “Except your agent and your security guard, who looks a little pissed.”

  I swiveled. Max looked more than pissed, he looked livid. His hands were clamped so tightly around the handle of my bag that the skin over his knuckles had blanched.

  “We’re running late for our flight.” When I turned back to the former teen idol, I could feel the heat of my bodyguard’s stare boring holes into my shoulder blades.

  “I won’t keep you. I just wanted you to know off the record that we’re all on your side.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Who’s all?”

  “The guys I work with.” He paused and touched my hand. “Me.”

  “That’s very nice, but . . .” I snapped my mouth shut as a shadow falling over me plunged me into darkness.

  “Time to go, Miss Wood,” Max said, forcing the words through his clenched teeth.

  “Okay.” I turned back to Cedric. “Nice to see you again.”

  “I meant what I said.”

  When my former costar took my hand, I heard a menacing growl behind me that raised the fine hairs beneath my ponytail.

  Cedric smiled at me, revealing his perfect straight white teeth. “I don’t believe in coincidences. Running into you is confirmation. I have a project, a dream of a script I’ve been holding on to, waiting for just the right person to come along. You’d be perfect in the lead.”

  Olivia stepped into view. “Hello, Cedric.” She gave me a pointed look. “We really must go. They’re calling to board our flight.”

  “Can we talk about this some more?” Cedric made eye contact with me. “Maybe over dinner, perhaps.”

  “Yes.” I quickly gave him my number.

  “Why did you do that?” Max asked after we moved away.

  “It’s just business.”

  “It’s not just business to him. He stared at your tits the entire time you were talking to him.”

  “He did not.” I narrowed my eyes. “You’re jealous.” I started to touch his arm and opened my mouth to tell him he shouldn’t be, but Olivia wedged herself between us.

  “Not here, you two.” She cast her gaze over her shoulder to where a group of young teenage boys were hurrying to catch up to us.

  I sighed. “This is my life, Max.” As his expression closed off in response to my explanation, I said quickly, “I’m sorry, it tends to come fast and without warning,” an apology meant to encompass everything, Cedric plus the insanity.

  I didn’t have time to say more as we were suddenly inundated by a group of enthusiastic boys. Max was formidable, but even he couldn’t stave off determined teenage fans.

  • • •

  We missed our flight.

  Olivia was irritated and popped in her earbuds as soon as we were seated on an alternative flight. Max remained mad and wouldn’t do more than grunt unintelligibly in response to my attempts to get him to talk with me.

  Frustrated, I snapped through the pages of my magazine, wishing there was room to do yoga in first class. Without anybody to talk to or anything productive to do to help pass the time, the flight was going to feel like longer than five hours and forty-five minutes.

  I leaned back and closed my eyes, and the next thing I knew, someone was poking my arm.

  “Hollie, wake up.”

  “Are we landing?” I popped open my eyes, checking the window but seeing only puffy white clouds.

  “Not yet. But I need to show you something.” Olivia put her iPad in my hands.

  “Oh no.”

  On the other side of her, I could tell Max was listening.

  I scrolled through pictures from the coffee cart, the Empire State Building, and the diner. Max and me on the same side of the booth. Him framing the two of us against the world in his hands.

  I blew out a frustrated breath. “They must’ve been following us. Guess the disguises didn’t work.”

  “There’s pictures from the airport with you and Cedric.”

  “I see that. They made it look like we were going through security together.”

  “Besille’s Online is captioning it Two Men, One Weekend. Some of the less reputa
ble outlets are titling them Holliewood does New York City with Her Bodyguard and Sir Cedric. Underage, But Not Lacking in Experience.”

  I glanced at Max. He stared straight ahead but was gripping the armrests on his seat so hard, I feared he would bend the metal.

  Olivia kept her gaze on me. “How do you want to play it?”

  “What would you advise?”

  “The truth. That you’re platonic friends with both of them.”

  I let out a relieved breath. “You’ll need to speak to Cedric.”

  “Already emailed his agent. We have permission to recount events as they transpired, absent any references to Samuel.”

  “Good that the plane has Wi-Fi, so we weren’t caught unaware.”

  “Mr. Cash?” Olivia said, and my bodyguard turned to face my agent. His jaw was determinedly set, his gaze steely blue. “I’m going to need you to electronically sign, giving me permission to address these photos on your behalf.”

  I handed her the iPad and she passed it to him. He stared down at the screen and swiped through the photos like I had, then glanced up again just as the announcement came over the plane’s speakers that we were landing.

  • • •

  “Max.” I tugged on his sleeve. “You need to talk to me.”

  “What would you have me say?” He turned his head, freezing me with the ice in his glare.

  “What you’re thinking, for one.”

  I might feel frozen but I had to keep moving—jogging, actually, to keep pace with his long strides. But at least I didn’t have to worry about the other passengers getting in our way. They readily scurried out of his path. My bodyguard looked more than his usual intimidating self as we left baggage claim and stepped through the sliding glass doors to exit the airport.

  “I’m thinking I want to get you to a secure location before we talk further.” He glanced to the side. “Where’s Olivia?”

  “There.” I pointed. She stood beside the driver from the car service.

  “Come along.”

  The handles of my bag in one hand, he steered me with the other, his fingers curled firmly around my upper arm. I wanted to protest, to insist we talk now, but at the same time, I didn’t. I’d never seen him look so unapproachable.

  “What’s that noise?” A shrill ringing rose above the din of noises at the curb.

  “My cell.” His brow dipped so deep, it pinched his gaze to narrow slits.

  “Oh.”

  It kept ringing. It had been ringing since we landed, but he ignored it.

  Did he keep the ringer off most of the time? I’d never heard his phone go off. In fact, I’d never seen him talk to anyone on it.

  Reaching the town car, he passed my bag to the driver, then turned me toward the open rear passenger door. Olivia was already inside, and not surprisingly talking on her cell.

  “Get in.” Max gestured. When I ducked my head, sat down, and started to scoot over to make room for him, he shook his head. “I’m not going with you.”

  “Why not?” I peered up at him through the tinted lenses of my sunglasses, unable to disguise the hurt in my expression as efficiently as I’d disguised my identity since we landed.

  “I’ve got personal business to attend to. I ran the specifics by Olivia.”

  “Why not talk to me?” I asked, fearing the answer.

  “Because it doesn’t concern you. Not directly.”

  “But—”

  “Olivia assures me your new condo is secure. You have a private entrance into a parking garage that has surveillance and a remote-controlled entrance. The building is manned by personnel round the clock. The driver will take you right to the keycard-accessed door by the elevators, where the head of security will meet you and escort you up. You’ll be perfectly safe.”

  Panicked by the sudden unexpected change, I couldn’t keep my voice from rising. “I don’t care about the logistics and safety issues. I care about what’s going on with you. Is everything okay?” I had a terrible thought. “This is just a temporary absence. You’re planning on coming back, aren’t you?” Dreading his response, I held my breath.

  “Of course.” But his words were unsteady, and his gaze flickered.

  “Are you sure this isn’t about what happened with Cedric?”

  “Hollie, please. You need to go. I need to go.” He glanced over his shoulder, back at the airport.

  Was he going back inside? Getting on another plane? Where? Why?

  “You know how my life is.” I didn’t want Max to leave without it being said. When he refocused on me, I released a pent-up breath and let it all out. “What we talked about at the diner . . . You have to know I’m not romantically involved with Cedric. Those photos, that’s the way they make everything seem. But it’s not real, and it’ll blow over. Until they find something new to make up lies about.”

  “I know that.” Max rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t like it. It seems like there should be more you could do to deny it, but I get it.”

  “Being too defensive just fuels their feeding frenzy.”

  “If you say so.”

  “So, you do understand?”

  “Sure.”

  “Good, so this can wait another day. We just got back. Stay.” I tried to get out of the car, but he blocked me.

  “No, Hollie. I have to go. It can’t wait.” His expression hardened.

  “I don’t want you to leave.” I stared up at him with tears brimming in my eyes.

  Truthfully, I was afraid for him to leave. I had a terrible feeling if he walked away now, I might not ever see him again.

  “Hollie.” Olivia touched my arm. “Not here. Not now.” She lifted her gaze, and I saw the glint of a camera lens flash as it caught the light. “Let him go.”

  “Good-bye.” Max slammed the door firmly closed, and the driver immediately pulled away from the curb.

  I swiveled and glanced back at Max, catching a last glimpse as he scowled and waved away a photographer. But then the car turned, and I couldn’t see him anymore.

  “Fanny, hey. It’s me.”

  My voice catching, I glanced out the window of my new condo. The floor-to-ceiling glass afforded expansive views of the valley, but I couldn’t appreciate it or the posh furnishings or the modern appointments or anything else. My thoughts were too jumbled up about Max.

  “Call me back when you get a chance. I need . . .”

  I needed her to advise me. Needed her shoulder to lean on. I had no experience with a relationship, especially not one this intense. But . . .

  As I turned away from the window, I reminded myself that I had my own space now. My own life. I needed to separate it from hers. Be strong on my own. Keep her safe.

  “I need to talk to you about the party,” I said quickly, then ended the call before I blubbered and she came running. That was our old pattern. I couldn’t do that anymore.

  Squeezing my cell tight in my grip, I scanned the industrial loft interior for someplace to rest and decided on the dove-gray sectional with the artfully arranged monochromatic pillows. I checked again to see if my last text had been delivered to Max. It hadn’t. Because he had that feature turned off or because he hadn’t seen it yet, I didn’t know. And not knowing made my stomach churn.

  At the middle of the longer length of the L-shaped sectional, I sat and placed my phone on the hammered-steel surface of the coffee table. Scooting forward, I stared at the phone, willing it to ring. My telekinetic superpowers didn’t work, though. The cell remained silent.

  Why hadn’t my sister picked up? She almost always picked up when I called. And what was going on with Max?

  After him always being there for me, I couldn’t figure out why he wouldn’t talk to me. I thought we’d agreed to be forthright with each other, but I’d obviously been mistaken.

  Olivia didn’t know any more than he had told me. After my asking her, over and over again, she’d been eager to leave.

  No family. No ex-girlfriend that I knew of. What could it be?


  The uncertainty of it all had me on edge. I’d cautioned him about my life coming at us fast and without warning. I should have listened to my own words. Maybe then the sudden turn of events with his life wouldn’t have caught me so totally off guard.

  I scooted back. The tightly upholstered leather behind me didn’t exactly allow for lounging. I’d need to get some comfy pillows for the living room if it were going to function as a place to relax and enjoy the view. Hopefully with Max.

  When he came back. Not if he came back.

  I squinted at my cell again, and when it didn’t ring, I sighed. Tomorrow and the day after were preproduction. Olivia had scheduled a car service to pick me up and drop me off inside the gate. The studio had their own security. I wouldn’t be the only celebrity within the guarded walls. My safety wouldn’t be an issue.

  But what happened after that?

  My phone rang, and the sudden loud noise startled me. The swirling charcoal pattern of the concrete-stamped floors were cool to look at, but they amplified sound.

  I grabbed my phone, glanced at the display, then put it to my ear.

  “Fanny.” My tone was off. It was difficult to hide my disappointment. “Thanks for calling me back.”

  “I saw you called, but I was on the other line. Are you somewhere you can talk? Sitting down?”

  “Yes. I’m in the condo. Why?” The churn in my stomach became a spin.

  “I just got off the phone with Samuel.”

  “What did he want?” Perched on the edge of the sectional, my heart rate escalating, I held my breath.

  “To trade. He’s offering to return the royalties to my song if you drop the charges against him. I told him no, of course.”

  “What did he say then?”

  “He said I really should talk to you first before making a final determination.”

  “Why would that make any difference?”

  “He said you would know this is a fight you won’t win. I asked him if he’s so certain, then why is he willing to negotiate. He said you know the consequences should you continue. He reiterated that I should contact you, that you would understand. And then he hung up. It was all very cryptic. He’s usually more direct. Ash wanted me to call Hart right away, but I wanted you to know first. And you sounded upset on your message. Did Samuel call you too? Did he threaten you again?”