The Fan

by Velvet Vaughn

  Jade felt numb. She was vaguely aware of the lights snapping on and Frank’s smug laughter.

  “What, no response, Juliet, sweetheart? Or should I say,” he formed air quotes, ‘America’s Sweetheart.’” He tsked. “Can’t even keep her husband satisfied. What do you say about the interview that Shauna Stewart just gave, proclaiming her and Kyle Ashton to be in love?”

  In slow motion, Jade blinked, her eyes moving from Frank to the audience, all laughing at her. She saw mouths open in amusement, fingers pointing, teeth gleaming in the brittle florescent lights. They were mocking her, taunting her. Her gaze drifted back to Frank and his self-satisfied smile. The room spun violently. She couldn’t breathe. She needed air.

  She had to get out.

  Jade bolted from the set without mumbling an apology, Frank’s brash heckling ringing in her ears. She knew it was the worst thing she could have done…giving Frank the reaction he obviously craved. She didn't care. Her assistant Nora raced to her side as she sprinted down the corridor.

  “Oh Juliet, I am so sorry,” she wailed, one hand pushing her tortoise shell glasses higher on her nose, the other clutching her palm pilot as she struggled to match Jade’s stride. “I had absolutely no idea he would pull something like this.”

  “Just get me out of here,” Jade snapped, brushing by Nora, barely winning the fight against an onslaught of embarrassed tears. Her three inch Christian Louboutin stiletto’s—the same shoes that provided immense satisfaction when used as a weapon against her agent—caught in a hole in the worn beige carpeting and her ankle twisted, sending her sprawling to the floor.

  “Great,” she hissed. “Just freaking great.” She slammed her hand to the ground, one lone tear leaking over the edge to disappear into the carpet.

  Why me? She asked the powers that be. I’m a good person. Or at least I was one once. Maybe that was the problem. She didn’t know who she was anymore. Jade LaRossa, the girl everyone called sweet and caring, or Juliet LaRue, the Hollywood star with a flair for the dramatic and the attitude to match.

  “Come-on.” Nora grabbed her hand while punching numbers in a cell phone with the other as she tugged Jade upright and practically drug her down the hallway. She spoke briskly, barking orders through the receiver. Jade slapped her hands against the door handle and shoved it open, blinking rapidly as the bright sunlight flooded her senses, blinding her. A limo screeched to a stop and a uniformed chauffeur jumped out.

  “I’m so sorry, Ms. LaRue,” he offered, handing her into the seat. “I caught part of the show. That man is the devil.”

  Jade took a small measure of comfort from the driver’s vehement response. It penetrated the cold blanket that wrapped around her heart. If she knew his name and it didn’t take so much effort, she would thank him.

  Nora squeezed in beside her and the driver slammed the door. The limo shot from the curb, whisking them away before the mob of reporters camped out around the building could pounce.

  Jade breathed a sigh of relief at having avoided the lecherous predators that had been known to stop at nothing to get the next big story or front-page photo. Once, a photographer even followed her into the ladies room and jammed a camera under the stall door. Jade had enjoyed ripping the Nikon from the woman’s startled grip and stuffing it down the toilet. She usually wasn’t a violent person but she just snapped. That had been the night Kyle asked her to marry him. She fled to the bathroom to avoid answering his question, her mind in turmoil. She didn’t know how she felt, if she even wanted to marry him and then to have a camera practically shoved up her skirt had been the last straw.

  Of course, she'd felt terrible afterward and even bought the woman a new, more expensive camera. But did it stop the woman from pursuing her? Uh, no.

  “My thoughtful husband could have at least had the decency to commit adultery in private.” Jade closed her eyes. “Damn Frank Talcott. Damn Kyle Ashton. Damn all men to hell.”

  #

  Did Juliet get his flowers, he wondered? The man sliced a wedge of cheese and placed it on a cracker as he watched her raptly. She was so lovely, and when she looked at him and smiled, she only had eyes for him. They belonged together. Fate had seen that they meet.

  “See Mother, I told you that I would find someone special, someone who would love me. You said she wasn’t worthy, wasn’t good enough. You said no one could live up to your standards but Juliet does, Mother. She is the perfect woman and she loves me back.”

  As usual, his mother ignored him when he taunted her.

  He finished the snack and hit the rewind button, stopping the tape as Juliet walked out to meet Frank Talcott. He watched up until Frank’s nasty remarks made Juliet flee in tears.

  The man pretended the wheel of cheddar was Frank Talcott’s head. He slammed the knife into the block of cheese with such force, it lodged into the table.

  Talcott had no right to upset his Juliet. She was fragile, delicate. She deserved to be treated with kindness, decency and respect.

  Frank Talcott would pay for his mistake.

  Chapter Three

  Three Months Later

  “Look Daddy, Cindawella!”

  “It sure is, Bella.” Logan smiled at the look of pure rapture on his daughter’s face.

  His daughter.

  He shook his head. He still couldn’t believe the precious child sprawled on her stomach on the floor, staring unblinkingly at the TV, her feet crossed in the air, her chin propped on her fists, was his little girl.

  Three months ago, he didn’t even know the child existed. Now he couldn’t imagine his life without her.

  Having been deprived of the first years of her existence, he was still bitter. How could Celeste not tell him he had a child? How could she look at herself in the mirror day after day for years, knowing she was keeping his daughter from him?

  Though he would never have the answers, the same questions kept plaguing him for weeks now, ever since Celeste’s pompous attorney darkened his doorstep and thrust Isabella into his arms.

  He wanted to for Bella’s sake, but knew he'd never be able to forgive Celeste. They'd planned on marrying. He proposed, she accepted. And then she ran off and left him.

  He met Celeste at a bar in Los Angeles when he'd been home for a little R&R, in between assignments as a Navy SEAL. He and his buddy Cam drove up from San Diego to catch some action in the big city. Celeste was a struggling actress and she was stunningly beautiful. He fell in lust at first sight. She loved that he was a SEAL, bragging to all her friends. They tumbled into bed together that first night and didn’t leave all weekend. They kept their relationship going for two years, with him being gone most of that time. Celeste still hadn’t managed to break into acting, doing mostly auditions for commercials in between waitress jobs.

  As Celeste’s career stalled, she became more demanding. Although she loved the idea of him being a SEAL, she didn’t like the reality of his career. She wanted him to be around more, move to LA and find a job that wasn’t so dangerous.

  Logan loved his job and had no intention of moving to LA, having always known he would head back to his hometown to be closer to his brother and aunt once he decided to call it quits from the Navy. Celeste became irate, issued him an ultimatum: either the SEALs or her. He'd been on his way to a dangerous and deadly assignment in Afghanistan with no time to deal with her latest crisis. He couldn’t tell her where he was going or when he would return, the information was classified, but he promised they would have a serious heart-to-heart when his assignment wrapped.

  His trip home turned out to be earlier than expected when his team stumbled upon a suicide bomber. His buddy Cam threw himself on the man just as he pulled the pin. Logan and the rest of the men had been spared, but not Cam. He gave up his life to protect his teammates and dozens of civilian lives. Logan and two others had been badly injured, racing to stop Cam before he launched himself at the bomber. They didn’t succeed.

  Logan couldn’t remember anything about how he got out of
Afghanistan, the flight to the States or the first two weeks spent in the hospital. When he woke up, he was battered and beaten, attached to dozens of tubes and wires and monitors. He discovered that not only had his friend died, but his fiancée hadn’t even bothered to visit him while he hovered on the precipice between living and dying.

  His brother Dan and Aunt Trudy stayed glued to his bedside the entire time. When he asked them about Celeste, they traded knowing looks and quietly told him that she'd indeed been informed of his accident. He wasn’t stupid, and it wasn't difficult to read between the lines.

  He found out later that she met a B-list producer who promised to make her a star. She'd quickly married him and now he knew it was because she was pregnant and the man wouldn’t want the baby if it wasn’t his. She passed off Isabella as that man’s daughter.

  He'd laid his heart on the line, told Celeste he loved her and she left him anyway, knowing she was carrying his child. The extent of her betrayal overwhelmed him.

  Distraught over the death of his friend, the end of his engagement, serious injuries that would take months of rehabilitation to overcome, and the very real possibility that he wouldn’t be able to return to the SEALs, Logan was surprised when his childhood friend Luke Colton flew out to visit him in the hospital and offer him a proposal. Luke was a detective with the Bloomington, Indiana Police Department. He was burned out with the job, looking for a change. He'd also just ended an engagement when he found his fiancée in bed with his partner. Luke wanted Logan to join with him in a private investigative and securities firm.

  After some serious soul searching that included confirmation from the doctors that resuming his SEAL career was a long shot at best, Logan jumped at the chance and COBRA—Co for Colton, Bra for Bradley—Securities was launched. They were bombarded with work as soon as they hung a sign on the door and now employed over two dozen employees, including his brother Dan.

  Work and rehabbing his battered body kept him too busy to even think of Celeste anymore, until one cold February afternoon. The man who delivered Isabella to his door turned out to be Celeste’s lawyer, bringing news not only of Logan’s unexpected offspring, but that Celeste had been killed on New Year’s Eve when an eighteen wheeler crossed the center line and plowed into her sports car. Thank God Isabella hadn’t been in the car. He would have never known her. A shudder passed through him and he bent to caress her soft hair. She gifted him with a beautiful smile.

  At least Celeste had the decency to ink his name on the birth certificate without her husband knowing. She also left behind a letter, penned on the day Isabella arrived into the world. She'd apologized for not telling him about his daughter, but knew that if he found out, he would demand joint custody and she couldn’t risk alienating her producer/husband. She wrote that she still loved him, would always love him, and if anything should happen to her, she hoped that he would be able to forgive her.

  So far, he hadn’t been able to do that.

  Not only had she neglected to tell him about their daughter, he soon found out that she had very little to do with Isabella either. Celeste’s husband had been twenty five years her senior and insisted on a slew of nannies to see to Isabella's needs. Celeste hadn’t fought him on the issue. Isabella was required to call the man “Father” instead of “Dad” or “Daddy.”

  Soon after Celeste’s death, her husband discovered her duplicity and he dismissed Isabella from his house without a care about her welfare. The girl just lost her mother, now the only father she'd ever known turned his back on her, too. Logan hoped like hell she was too young to remember all of this when she got older and he contacted a child psychologist at Indiana University. The man examined Isabella and concluded that she was remarkably well adjusted, due for the most part to Logan’s immediate acceptance.

  The first couple of weeks had been tough. Isabella was too young to understand how this complete stranger could be her new father. With remarkable maturity for such a small child, she adapted and began calling him “Father.” Logan immediately corrected her, asking her to call him “Dad.”

  He would never forget what happened next for the rest of his life.

  With big blue eyes, she pulled her thumb out of her mouth and called him “Daddy.”

  At that moment, Logan was a goner. A big iron band squeezed the breath from his lungs and he knew he'd give up his life to care for this little girl.

  While Bella may have lost her mother, she gained an instant family eager to dote on her. Her two uncles—his brother, “Unca Dan”, and business partner “Unca Luke"—had mutual adoration-fests going on with her. She called his Aunt Trudy “Gammy”, much to Trudy’s delight. All the women in his office fawned over her. His widowed elderly neighbor down the street, Mrs. Harper, treated Bella like the granddaughter she never had and she watched her for Logan once a week.

  The way Mrs. Harper glowed when Bella was around, Logan figured it was a favor for both of them.

  He'd become good friends with the family from one of his cases, former NFL superstar Matt Dianetti, his wife Jacqueline and daughter Lauren. He, Luke and Dan helped track down a serial killer who had both Matt and Jac in her sights.

  The Dianetti’s instantly accepted Bella into their family as well, with sixteen-year-old Lauren serving as her primary babysitter. Bella idolized the blond-haired beauty and followed her around like a puppy. Lauren, a soon-to-be high school junior, treated Bella like a little sister, even having a cheerleading outfit designed for her to match the one she wore for the varsity squad. She planned on taking Bella on the field with her next fall as a cheerleading mascot. Bella couldn’t wait and she wore the outfit constantly. She even bawled the first night after she got it when Logan wouldn’t let her wear it to bed. She cried herself to sleep in his arms—wearing the dress. He'd tucked her in, outfit and all.

  Yeah, he was a sucker.

  Matt and Luke had both been a huge help, offering invaluable advice and wisdom. Matt had been a single father, raising Lauren on his own. Luke’s parents were killed when he was eighteen, a freshman at Notre Dame with a promising football career. He gave it all up to move home to care for his two younger brothers and sister.

  All three men had also been betrayed by women they had once loved. They commiserated over several beers one night, with Luke and Logan vowing never to get sucked into the matrimonial trap again. Matt just smiled at them both, having found the love of his life in Jacqueline. Bastard.

  Now, three months later, Logan and Bella had formed a permanent bond. He still may not know much about raising a daughter but she didn’t wake up crying in the middle of the night anymore and she didn’t hesitate to call him “Daddy.”

  Chapter Four

  Jade adjusted the floppy brim of her straw hat and reclined in the deck chair with a deep sigh. She sipped from a frosty glass of iced tea and deposited it on the side table. Tugging her halter top in place, she settled against the cushions and closed her eyes.

  Twelve weeks had passed since the disastrous incident on Frankly Speaking. In that time, she finished promos for her latest movie, obtained a quickie divorce from Hollywood heartthrob Kyle Ashton, navigated the talk show circuit to assure the public that she was handling the split just fine and then promptly disappeared from sight.

  The first day of vacation in years and already she could feel the tension seeping from her bones, something she desperately needed after the past few tumultuous weeks.

  She supposed she owed Frank Talcott a small measure of gratitude. Her appearance on his show had been the catalyst for taking control of her life. The humiliating ordeal, broadcast live to millions, opened Jade’s eyes in a big way. She was tired of being a doormat, always pleasing others before herself, avoiding conflict at all costs. Somewhere along the way, as Juliet LaRue’s fame grew, Jade LaRossa became lost in the shuffle.

  She played kick-ass heroines on the silver screen, time to become a kick-ass heroine in real life.

  If it hadn’t been for her appearance on Frankly S
peaking, it might have taken years before she realized the sorry state her life had become. It might have been too late to resurrect Jade LaRossa.

  So she did owe a debt of gratitude to Frank. She even managed to feel a sliver of sympathy for his unexpected death.

  Frank had been gunned down outside his house just two days after her appearance on his show. The official report blamed a random drive-by shooting, but speculation leaned towards the exposé Frank had been working on about the ringleader of a notorious gang headquartered in Compton.

  Jade’s divorce from Kyle hadn’t gone as smoothly as she'd hoped. Sid had to pop a nitroglycerin when she told him the marriage was over. He screamed, begged, yelled, cried and ordered her not to go through with the split.

  “Kyle is fragile, he needs you, Juliet,” he cajoled. When that didn’t work, he tried guilt. “You can’t break up America’s Couple, Juliet. I coined that term.”

  “Hard stretch, Sid,” she scoffed, her fiery nature starting to assert itself. “We live in the United States and we are married. It didn’t take Albert Einstein to make that leap.”

  “I made you who you are, Juliet. Without Kyle and without me, you are nothing.”

  The caustic tone should have stung, but Juliet didn’t feel the bite at all. She proceeded with the divorce. She and Kyle both signed a pre-nuptial agreement. At the time, he was the superstar with the all the assets but when he insisted that she sign—on advice from Sid—the part of her that staunchly believed in happily ever after had been devastated. If she had to sign one, he would have to sign one, too. Maybe she didn’t have the status or success that Kyle enjoyed, but she did have her pride.

  Jade adjusted in the chair and eyed the yard next door with a covetous sigh. She could make out a glittering blue pool before a grove of trees blocked the view. Chewing her lip, she peered across the black iron fence. She hadn’t seen anyone around since her arrival this morning. Would they mind if she took a quick dip?