Red Lines

by T. A. Foster

“Right, but it’s my job to care. Turns out our strategy to lead the hounds in the opposite direction didn’t pan out like we thought. Haven has never really left their radar. I thought they had forgotten all about her. I’ll check in with you later.”

  “I did too.” Evan thought the last round of pictures with Emmy had squelched the interest in Haven. He and Jeff had both been wrong.

  Evan threw the phone on the couch. What in the hell was going on?

  A loud fist banged on the door. “Mr. Carlson! Mr. Carlson, they’re waiting for you on set.”

  Dammit. He glared at the door. “On my way.”

  He stormed out of the trailer and toward the set.

  “Hey, there.” Emmy smiled.

  “Let’s just get this over with.” He groaned.

  “What happened? You were just in the best mood, ready to propose, dancing on rainbows or something.” She studied his face. “Oh, you just saw the headlines, didn’t you?”

  His gaze jerked toward her. “You knew?”

  “Everyone knows. It was all over the news this morning. How did you not know?”

  “I was reading my lines. I don’t follow that trash.” He didn’t know right now if that was to his advantage or not.

  “I’m sure they’re Photoshop-ed or taken out of context. Take it from someone who’s been a victim of the press.”

  “But you did cheat on me, Emmy.”

  “Well, that part is true, but it wasn’t as bad as it looked in public. That should mean something.”

  He shook his head. “It really doesn’t.”

  She brushed the tops of his shoulders, pretending there was something there that needed her attention. “This suit does look amazing on you.” She batted her eyelashes at him lightly. “Are you going to be able to handle this today?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.” He flattened the lapels while Emmy straightened the knot on his tie.

  “I’m here if you need someone to talk to. I mean it, babe. Anything you need, I’m here.”

  “Thanks, I can handle it. I know it’s just a big misunderstanding.”

  There was no part of him that didn’t believe there was something to the pictures he had scrolled through. They were taken through a window, but they were crisp and clear. He knew that look on Haven’s face. He knew her smile. Those pictures weren’t fakes.

  “Today, let’s forgot all that stuff.” She tilted toward him. “Let’s just be Karina and Dex and enjoy our moment, ok? This is supposed to be our day. I’ve been waiting to shoot this scene with you from the beginning.”

  He nodded. If he ever needed an escape, this was it. He leaned toward her and brushed his mouth against her full pouty lips. He was going completely off-script.

  “What was that for?” Emmy looked dazed, her chin still tilted upward.

  “I just needed a reminder.” He turned from her and looked out of the sun-drenched windows.

  Emmy pressed her fingertips to her lips. “And what did it remind you of?”

  “That there’s only one girl I’m supposed to be kissing.” He didn’t turn to see the look on Emmy’s face, but he regretted the words as soon as he spoke them. Jealousy had twisted a knife through his chest, and made him act like an impulsive asshole.

  “Em, I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair.” When he turned, she was gone.

  He hung his head and shoved his hands in Dexter’s designer pockets, his fingers brushing the ring box. He had botched all the energy running between them for the proposal scene. But how could he propose when he was haunted by pictures of his past that looked identical to his present?

  THE HEADLINES were worse than Haven thought. She stared at the people walking on the sidewalk below her. Their lives were uncomplicated and simple. She bet none of them were plastered on websites, bare and exposed where other people could judge. Where they could leave hateful comments and taunt. Yeah, those people on the sidewalk were living normal lives.

  Carly whistled as she walked through the door. “So, you sure know how to make an entrance in the music biz. Drew Easton?”

  “Not funny. It was just coffee.”

  “Coffee shmoffee. Looks like you were totally smitten with him.” She laughed and plopped down on the writing couch.

  “Oh, God, it’s terrible, isn’t it?” Haven buried her hands in her face. “But I’m not smitten. Maybe a little bit of a crush, but only because I love his music and…I shouldn’t be saying any of this. I completely screwed up.”

  “What did Evan say? I’m sure he was fine after you talked. He knows the deal with the press.”

  The panic flooded her face. “I didn’t tell him about last night when we talked. Drew told me it would just blow things out of proportion, so I didn’t mention it. He said it was better that way.”

  Carly started at her. “Drew told you to say that?”

  Haven nodded.

  “Girl, I think he totally played you.”

  “What do you mean? He was trying to help.” Haven worried she might get sick right there. Her stomach was churning.

  “Ok, so clearly your experience with guys is limited.” Carly pulled her guitar from its case. “Coffee? Come on. He’s into you.”

  Carly’s words were true, but that’s not why she went with him. Although, it didn’t make any sense why she accepted his offer. Nothing good could come of hanging out with another mega celebrity. And not one who looked like Drew did.

  “I told him in the lobby I had a boyfriend. I was honest.” She twisted her bottom lip under her teeth. “I never led him on. Never.”

  Carly strummed a chord. “You are so naïve. If there isn’t a ring on your finger, then you are fair game.”

  “I’m not a prize or an animal.”

  “You know what I mean. Without a ring, you’re available.”

  “That’s stupid. I’m with-with Evan. I’m staying at the ranch. We couldn’t be more together.”

  “I’m just telling you what I know guys think.”

  “Thanks, but I’d rather not think they all just want to get in my pants.” Haven huffed.

  Carly laughed. “Well, they do.”

  “Awesome.”

  “Sometimes it is.” The singer laughed. “You up for finishing this song?”

  “I need to talk to Evan, but yeah, let’s finish it. I’ll call him after our break. He texted this morning and said he had an intense scene and wouldn’t be able to talk until later today. This sucks.”

  “I think I feel a song coming on.” Carly smiled.

  “It’s something.” Haven picked up her journal and turned to a blank page. The only thing that might be able to take her mind off the biggest mistake of her life was music. She scribbled out the notes and played with the words.

  It took all morning, but they finally finished the last bars of the song.

  Haven looked up at the clock. “Wow, we wrote through lunch.”

  “I knew I heard my stomach growling. Want to grab some lunch?”

  “Sure. I could eat.”

  Carly packed up her guitar, and they walked down the long corridor toward the elevators.

  Some of the dread she had been feeling earlier had subsided. It was a relief that food actually sounded appealing.

  Carly tapped the elevator button and was almost plowed over by a man rushing through the doors.

  “Hey, excuse me?” Carly looked like she was ready to storm him.

  “Oh, sorry, hey. You’re Carly Stone.”

  “Yes, and you are?” She waited with her hands on her hips.

  “Looking for Haven.”

  “I’m Haven.” She hesitated.

  “I’m Jeff, Evan’s agent. Can we talk for a minute?”

  She looked at Carly, who shrugged. “I’ll make a few calls and wait for you out here.” Carly pointed to the reception area.

  “Umm, ok.” Haven felt all the nervousness and nausea from earlier return with sudden force. “We can talk back here.” She led Jeff to the writing studio where she and Carly worked.

&nbs
p; He closed the door behind them.

  “Ok, you need to tell me the whole story.”

  “Excuse me?” She was expecting pleasantries or a get-to-know you segment of the conversation.

  “I told Evan I would talk to you, and then we’ll come up with a game plan, but in order to do that, you need to tell me the truth.”

  “The truth? What is it exactly that we’re talking about?” She might be inexperienced and naïve, as Carly liked to remind her, but she didn’t have to tolerate rudeness.

  “You and Drew Easton. Come on, I’m here to help.”

  “Help, hmm.” She studied his face. Evan spoke highly of Jeff. He liked him and trusted him since they knew some of the same people in East Texas. That seemed to mean a lot to him.

  “Yes, help. But I can’t get a full handle on this for our publicist if I don’t know the whole story. You have to understand my point of view here. Are there more pictures? Did anyone see you leave his place?”

  “Leave his place? What are you talking about?”

  “It’s Drew Easton. Girls don’t just have coffee with him.” Jeff folded his arms and sat on the couch.

  “Well, I did.”

  “Really?” he asked it as if he didn’t believe a single thing she said.

  “Really. It was coffee with a new friend. That’s all.” Suddenly, she didn’t feel like explaining herself any longer.

  “And then what? Drinks? Dinner? Did you go anywhere else?”

  “You know, Jeff, I know you probably had to go out of your way to come see me, but Carly’s waiting for me. So, I’m going to go to lunch.” She opened the door behind him.

  “But wait. We have some things to go over. I need to talk to Evan about—”

  “I don’t know what you and Evan are going to discuss, but I’m going to talk to him about the pictures. I don’t need you running interference between us. This is a private matter.” She stormed out of the room before he could hit her with another question.

  She didn’t know whether to be more annoyed with Jeff for making such offensive suggestions, or Evan for sending him to her.

  Carly hung up her phone and dropped it in her bag. “That was quick.”

  “Let’s go.” Haven looked over her shoulder. “I said all I had to say.”

  “You can tell me all about it over lunch.” Carly smiled. “But just be prepared, the paps might catch me feeding you or whispering sweet nothings in your ear.”

  “Stop.” Haven let a giggle escape. That’s all she needed, one more headline how she was double cheating on Evan and Drew with Carly. She laughed louder. She had to admit; it was pretty damn funny.

  BY THE time Haven pulled into the ranch, darkness had settled on the land. She hadn’t heard from Evan. Surely, Jeff had gotten in touch with him. The need to explain her decision to have coffee with Drew didn’t seem nearly as urgent after meeting Evan’s agent. Something about the exchange had put her on the defensive and in an unforgiving mood.

  She marched through the kitchen.

  “Hey, Haven. I’m working on a risotto and some steamed vegetables.” Lenny hovered over the stove.

  “Sounds good. Whatever you want to make, Lenny. I’m going to change. I’ll be down for dinner later.” She knew he had probably been working on the dish all day, but she didn’t have the energy to stroke the chef’s ego at the moment.

  She climbed the stairs and met Marta at the top landing.

  “Oh, well I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” The woman stood with an armful of towels.

  Haven looked puzzled. “I didn’t have other plans.”

  “Oh, I thought I had read something that you might not be staying at the ranch.” Marta made a move toward the linen closet.

  “Marta, you’re not serious, are you?”

  “I must have misread it.” The woman focused on layering the towels on top of each other so that the ends were lined up.

  Haven huffed, searching for shreds of restraints. “I’m not leaving the ranch. Those pictures, or whatever you read, were just nasty gossip.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Marta didn’t turn from her task.

  “Fine.” Haven spun toward the bedroom and slammed the door behind her. She knew the exit was melodramatic, but she didn’t care what Marta thought. The house manager had already formed an opinion of her and it wasn’t a favorable one. What difference did it make if she tossed some of the bad manners back in the woman’s face?

  She set the shower on high and waited for the steam to billow over the glass walls. She was tired of everyone treating her like a liar. Tired of having to defend herself. Tired of feeling like she did something criminal, when it was only a latte. A freakin’ latte.

  She stepped into the streams of water, hoping some of this mood would wash down the drain like the soapy bubbles sliding over her body.

  She toweled off her hair, feeling slightly more relaxed. Lenny’s dinner and a glass of wine might be the only way to right this day. She got dressed and headed downstairs to see if the chef had finished his masterpiece.

  “Smells delicious, Lenny.” She walked into the kitchen, inhaling the aroma of all the spices. Her mother would die over his herb garden. It was like something out of Southern Living magazine.

  “Lenny?” She stopped in the center of the kitchen. The chef wasn’t chopping up vegetables for a salad or prepping a dessert. He was gone.

  “Wh-what are you doing here?”

  “I live here, Haven.” Evan stood next to the counter. He wasn’t wearing his usual smile and he didn’t make a move toward her.

  “I didn’t know you were flying in. Did you wrap?” She stepped closer, but it didn’t feel right. She paused a few feet from him.

  “No, but I’m off tomorrow. Have to get back to L.A. by tomorrow night. Seems like there are things back home I need to take care of.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t know why she felt like a child being scolded, but that was exactly the feeling invading her limbs. He had a parental look.

  Evan walked to the beer fridge, grabbed a beer, and twisted off the top. He chugged half of it before settling on one of the bar stools. “I think we need to talk.”

  She pulled out the stool in front of him. No matter what was going on between them, she didn’t want to create more distance. There was nothing good about distance.

  “Ok, talk.” She focused on his eyes. She wasn’t sure she had ever seen them so intense. They were hard and relentless, boring holes into her when she was trying to protect herself from more accusations. She didn’t like feeling as if her back were against the wall.

  “I want to know about the pictures.” He pushed the beer away from him.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m dead serious, Haven.”

  “Didn’t your little minion fill you in on everything?”

  “Minion? Are you talking about Jeff?”

  “I don’t know how many people you have on your staff who would show up at my job and interrogate me like I’m a criminal, but yeah, Jeff.” The words were biting, but the day had piled up on her.

  “Criminal? What are you talking about?” he asked.

  “He didn’t tell you he accused me of staying over at Drew Easton’s place?” She folded her arms, welcoming the tension as if it were a way to add strength to her body.

  “Ok, ok. This is getting crazy.” Evan moved off the stool and paced around the island. “I did not ask him to interrogate you. He said he was going to talk to you about whatever happened, and we’d take care of it from there.”

  “You sent him to run damage control on me?”

  “God, no. Not like that.” He ran his hands through his hair. She noticed it was dabbed with hair gel, something he never wore.

  “Then what? Because all I’ve felt all day is that I’ve done some horrible, terrible thing to you when all it was was coffee. Do you know what I’ve had to deal with? Pictures of you and Emmy having drinks. You and Emmy at dinner. Emmy draped all over you. And I’ve dealt with it. I
never accused you of sleeping with her.” Evan opened his mouth to speak, but she slammed her hands on the island. “So, if some stupid photographers take a picture of me having one freakin’ coffee with a new artist at my label, then I would think you would ask me first before sending your clean up squad.” She jumped off the stool, almost knocking it over.

  “Haven, hold on a second.” Evan reached for her, but she stepped to the side. “I never—”

  “No, I’m pissed. Actually, I’m beyond pissed. How could you think so little of me? Think I’d cheat on you? I was with you last night.” She walked out of the kitchen.

  “Haven, wait!” Evan chased her down the hall.

  “I’m sorry you flew all the way out here for this.” She shook his grip from her arm. “But, I’m done with people treating me like this today. And that means you too.”

  “What people?”

  “Don’t act like you don’t know everyone around here has been whispering. Marta hates me. I’m sure she was thrilled with the headline. She’s dying for me to get out of her precious ranch house.” Haven didn’t care if the house manager heard every word she said.

  Evan followed her down the hall. “No one here hates you. Don’t say that.”

  She was at the top of the staircase, fueled by more pent up hostility than she realized she had. Evan was on her heels.

  “Darlin’, we have to talk about this.”

  She whipped around in front of the bedroom. “No, we don’t.” She slammed the door shut.

  “Haven, you can’t lock me out of my own room.” He pounded on the door.

  She slid against the frame until she was sitting on the floor.

  “Haven, let me in.”

  She didn’t care if he had just flown in from Australia. And it didn’t matter that she had taken up residence in his room. Nothing would get her to open that door. Nothing.

  EVAN STARED at the door. It was his bedroom door, slammed clear in his face.

  “Haven, darlin’, you can’t lock me out of my room.” He twisted the handle in his hand but it wasn’t budging. “Come on.” This was ridiculous. Ludicrous. Downright insane.

  He waited a few seconds, but couldn’t hear anything from the other side of the door. She just needed time to cool off. He looked at the hallway. There were six other bedrooms he could choose from. He picked the first one on the corner.