by Tia Wylder
“I’ve always hated my name,” Barnes said. “And I’ve gone by Barnes since I was a little kid – that didn’t feel like lying!”
“But you knew,” I insisted hotly, leaping up from the couch and spilling my wine on the carpet.
“You knew!”
“I didn’t,” Barnes shot back hotly. “I had no idea you were Anne and Carter’s daughter – I can barely even remember meeting them for Christ’s sake! I haven’t seen them since I was a teenager!”
I felt stunned and shocked and hurt. It was like someone had reached inside my chest and ripped my heart out – the pain was so intense that I could hardly stand it.
“Barnes…” I trailed off as the tears finally began to fall down my cheeks. “Why? Why would you do this to me?”
Barnes’s face was contorted into a mask of pain and grief. “I didn’t know,” he said quietly. “I swear if I had known…”
I couldn’t believe it – I’d done the very thing that I’d sworn against. Suddenly, I hated myself. I was no better than the spoiled, silly little Gianna DiFaba who had run away from Boston with naïve hopes of becoming a famous actress. I was such an idiot: I thought that I’d moved past my own shortcomings and into my own. But instead, I’d only followed the path that my parents had narrowly set for me since the very day I’d been born.
I felt sick and disgusted as I stormed out of the room and locked myself in the master bedroom. Behind me was a loud torrent of voices, quickly escalating into an argument, but I could barely hear them over the sound of my tears. I grabbed a small suitcase from the closet and started throwing all of my clothes inside, packing it as tightly as I could. I wasn’t even paying attention to what I grabbed, so random pairs of underwear and socks flew through the air. Soon, the bedroom was a complete mess.
When I heard a familiar knock at the door, I froze.
“Gianna, let me in,” Barnes said. His voice was pleading and kind. “Please, I need to talk to you.”
I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. But it was useless now. My belly was a hot dragon of anger, and all I wanted to do was run away. I never wanted to see Barnes or my parents again – how could I possibly face them when they’d all set me up so exquisitely?
“Gianna, please,” Barnes growled. “This wasn’t my fault – I never intended to deceive you!”
At this point, I didn’t even care whether his remarks were true or not. All I cared about was getting the hell out of there.
“Go away!” I yelled. “I don’t want to talk to you!”
“Gianna, be an adult,” Barnes snapped. “Don’t do this. You’re making a huge mistake.”
I stomped over to the door and yanked it open, seething angry. “I can’t talk to you right now. I’m too angry,” I replied hotly.
Barnes put his hands on my shoulders. “Gianna, I love you,” he said. “And who cares if your parents wanted us to get married? That’s not why we did,” he added. “We got married because we love each other. And if this gets your parents off your back, then good – that’s what I want.”
I swallowed hard. When I was staring him in the face like this, it was hard to think rationally. I knew that I loved him – of course, I did. But I felt so hurt and betrayed and angry that I couldn’t even think straight.
Turning away from Barnes, I grabbed my suitcase from the bed and stormed out of the room. I pushed past him and into the hallway, then stalked into the living room where my parents were still sitting, sipping their wine and looking perfectly content if a bit confused.
“Gianna, don’t do anything you’re going to regret,” my mother said. “Please – think about this.”
Her words filled me with a hot, new fury that made my previous anger look almost innocent.
“Great,” I snapped hotly. “So, because I married the man I want you’re going to treat me like a decent person now? But when you didn’t know it was him, you were more than willing to have someone kidnap me and blackmail me, just to get me to come home!”
My mother looked as if I’d slapped her in the face, and for a moment I wondered if I’d gone too far. But when my father spoke, any trace of doubt or regret disappeared instantly.
“Gianna, you're a spoiled brat,” he said. “I always knew Barnaby was perfect for you, and if you’d had an ounce of good grace or sense, you would have listened to me like a good daughter. Look at your sister! She never demands anything, and she does everything we tell her. Don’t you think you would be happier if you were more like her?”
Dropping my suitcase, I stalked across the room and slapped my father in the face. I didn’t even have to think about it – it was completely involuntary. The sound rang out like a gunshot, and for a moment, my father went totally white in the face. He stared at me in shock, then narrowed his eyes and glared at me angrily.
“This isn’t even about your marriage, is it,” my father hissed. “This is about your pride! Your stupid, selfish, pride!”
I didn’t want to agree with him or give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was right, so I simply stood there and glared.
“Tell me I’m right!” My father thundered loudly. “Tell me!”
“Carter, stop it,” my mother said, taking my father by the arm and attempting to force him back onto the couch. “Stop yelling at her!”
“She deserves it! For her entire life, she’s been nothing but a spoiled, silly, stupid brat! And now she’s angry because she realized that we finally know better for her than anyone on this planet!”
My father’s angry words cut me to the bone, and for an instant, I felt that I was capable of murder. I imagined how it would feel to kill the man who had always tried so hard to control me, to show him that he wasn’t the ultimate powerful force in my life. But then that urge died away, and with its loss came a feeling of grief so profound that I could hardly breathe.
“She knows it’s true,” my father continued. He gave my mother a smug smile. “She’ll get over it in time. They always do.”
“I’m leaving,” I yelled loudly. I grabbed my suitcase and clutched it with a white-knuckled grip. “And with any luck, I’m never coming back here for the rest of my life!”
And with those final words, I stormed out of the house I had once considered paradise.
--
The next week was harder I ever could have possibly imagined. Since I didn’t know where else to go, I checked back into the Crown Jewel hotel. I felt so stupid, going back there, but it wasn’t like I had a choice. Barnes and my parents had thoroughly humiliated me, and I wasn’t sure that I could ever face them again.
I even thought about quitting Heaven Cove. I would’ve done it, too, had my personal supply of money not been dwindling. I’d spent a ton of money redecorating the condo that I’d shared with Barnes, and I was down to practically nothing – I even had to put my Crown Jewel suite on one of my new credit cards.
But deep down, I knew I couldn’t quit the soap. When Monday morning rolled around, I got up early and took a long shower before making sure I looked like a total bombshell before leaving the hotel. I wanted Barnes to see me and realize what a giant mistake he’d made. I wanted him to look at me and want me more than he’d ever wanted another woman.
And most of all?
I just wanted to see Barnes. I missed him desperately. The first night I stayed in the Crown Jewel, I cried myself to sleep. It wasn’t the same without him – I kept reaching out and snuggling against a pillow for comfort. And in the morning, I’d woken up so sure that Barnes was snoring beside me. The sight of the sun streaming in through the hotel windows was enough to break my heart all over again.
I knew that logically, I shouldn’t be angry with Barnes. After all, he hadn’t schemed his way into my life…I was the one who had first picked him up! But whenever I thought of the smug look on my father’s face, not to mention his venomous words, I was filled with an incredible hot anger that left me sick to my stomach. I was worried that now, Barnes would be forever tainted for m
e. What if I could never look at him again without thinking of my parents?
It was a horrible thought – and one that I didn’t feel like revisiting, even if it kept popping up in my head.
When I got to the set, I walked in wearing a scarf tied around my neck and a big pair of sunglasses that hid my eyes. I went straight to the dressing room and allowed the costume and make-up people to fawn over me all morning. There was no sight of Barnes, and every time the door opened, my palms got sweaty, and my heartbeat sped up. I realized that as much as I wanted to stay angry with him, it just wasn’t possible. Well, I’ll just have to do a damn good job of pretending, I thought. Because what the fuck else can I do?
Eric called the cast together for a short meeting before we began shooting. He cleared his throat and pulled out a sheaf of papers.
“I wanted you all to know that Heaven Cove has been nominated for a screenwriting award,” Eric said. When he glanced to the right, I followed his gaze. My heart sank when I saw Barnes leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his muscular chest. The inside of the studio was lit poorly, but Barnes was still wearing his sunglasses. He looked terrible. His tanned skin was pale and sallow, and his hair was greasy. When we locked eyes, he tossed his head and focused all of his attention on Eric’s words. To my dismay, I saw that the other women of the Heaven Cove cast were staring at Barnes with newfound admiration in their eyes.
“To Barnes Harrington,” Eric said, smirking as he held up the paperwork. “Without him, we’d still be a dinky little soap that no one gives a fuck about.”
Barnes smiled and stepped forward to accept Eric’ praise, but I could tell he was faking. He kept his eyes low to the ground as Eric passed over the papers.
“Thanks,” Barnes said. He smirked. “This means a lot. And to think -- there were people who said I’d never amount to anything other than a divorce lawyer.” When Barnes spoke, he glanced at me over the tops of his sunglasses. I shivered at the intense look in his eyes.
The cast and crew clapped and whistled for Barnes. I glared at the other women with envy, feeling suddenly possessive of my estranged husband. This is my fault, I thought as I stared at my cast mates’ eyes dripping over Barnes’s good looks. If only I hadn’t been so stupid! But my moment of self-pity didn’t last long. When I saw a smug smile spread itself over Barnes’s face, I felt a flicker of anger ignite in my heart. But he lied to me, I remembered. And if he hadn’t lied, we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place!
It was crazy. We were newlyweds – we should’ve been happier than anyone else in the room. For god’s sake, we’d just gotten back from our honeymoon! And yet whenever I looked at Barnes, I felt my stomach twist into anxious cramps. And somehow, even though I knew he wasn’t about to tell anyone, I had a feeling that he felt the very same way.
Thankfully, I was only in a few scenes that day. I spent most of my time in the green room, staring down at my script even though I already had it memorized. When it was time for me to go home, I changed into my street clothes as quickly as possible. I ran a brush through my hair and pulled it into a low knot at the back of my neck before grabbing my purse and leaving the green room.
“Gianna.”
The sound of my name made me stop cold. When I turned around, I saw Barnes standing there in the hallway. Up close, he looked even more miserable than he’d looked before.
“I have to go,” I lied. “I’m meeting someone.”
Barnes stepped closer and smirked. His sheer physical bulk sent shivers down my spine. When I looked down at his giant hands, I shuddered with arousal as I remembered how it had felt when Barnes had touched me for the first time.
“Dating so soon?” Barnes asked archly. “Because I really hope you’re not. I don’t want you to see anyone else, Gianna.”
His arrogance was both arousing and incredibly annoying. I stood there for a second feeling like a deer in the headlights before crossing my arms and leaning against the wall.
“No,” I said. “I’m just going home.”
“Your home is with me,” Barnes said with a low growl. “Or have you forgotten that?”
I bit my lip. In my spare time at the Crown Jewel, I’d come up with retort after retort, all in preparation for a moment like this. But now that it was actually happening, I felt tongue-tied and twisted. I couldn’t think of a single intelligent thing to say.
“No,” I said. I swallowed. “I mean, I can’t go home. Not with you, Barnes.”
Barnes sighed. He stepped closer and focused his gaze on me. “I love you, Giana,” he said. “Please come home with me. Please. I’ll beg you if I have to.”
I stared at him. In that moment, I suddenly missed him so much that I wanted to throw myself into his arms and forget about everything. But then, seconds later, my father’s words came rushing back to me, and I knew that I couldn’t. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to go back to that condo without seeing the shocked look on my mother’s face, or my father’s angry scowl.
“I can’t,” I said. “I…”
“You love me,” Barnes said in a low voice. “I know you do. So, stop fucking around and come home. I miss you. I need you with me.”
The pleading look in his eyes was heartbreaking. I knew that if I didn’t get away from Barnes soon, I’d be reduced to tears.
“I can’t,” I said stiffly. “I can’t even think about you without thinking about my parents! What if you plotted this whole thing?”
Barnes gave me an incredulous look. “Gianna, you're stupid,” he said. “And you’re not a stupid woman,” he added in a firm tone. “You’re the actress – not me. Don’t you remember how shocked I was when you started telling me all about your parents and how they treated you? Don’t you remember how I laughed and said that was no way to grow up?”
The memory made me shudder. It had all seemed so innocent back in the days when I never dreamed that Barnes and my parents would actually meet.
“That doesn’t matter,” I said flatly. “I still can’t believe I fell for their stupid trick!”
Barnes reached out and grabbed my hands. “You didn’t fall for anything,” he said. “You fell in love. With me. And we got married because we love each other.”
My mouth went dry, and I fell silent.
“Barnes, I—“
“Gianna, don’t make excuses,” Barnes said. He stepped even closer and twisted his fingers with mine. “I know you love me. I know you want to come home. So, please. Just do it.”
Every inch of me wanted to believe him. Every cell, every pore, every nerve in my body wanted to throw myself at him and kiss him. But the anger was still there, and as much as I wanted to forget all about it, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to do so.
“No,” I said, pulling my hands away and stepping backwards. “Barnes, I’m sorry. I can’t.”
And with that, I turned on my heel and ran. Barnes called after me, but I ran until there was a stitch on my side. As soon as I was outside the studio, I dove into the backseat of a cab.
“Where to?”
“The Crown Jewel,” I said. “Actually, you know what? Forget that. Where’s the nearest bar?”
The driver gave me an odd look.
“I don’t care what kind of bar,” I said. “Just take me there, okay?”
The driver rolled his eyes but pulled away from the curb. I had to force myself not to look back because I knew that if I did, I’d see Barnes standing there, begging me to return with his intense gaze.
The driver dropped me off at a seedy theme bar with telephones on the table and drink-specials all under five dollars, which was practically unheard of in LA. As I walked in, I felt the eyes of every single man turn to me and drink me in as if I were a cheap drink, too.
I ignored them. Going to the bar, I perched on an empty stool and drummed my fingers on the countertop. It wasn’t very late – only seven-thirty – but I had a feeling that the bar was as crowded as it ever got.
The bartender appeared in front o
f me with a piña colada in a frosted glass. Frosty white liquid spilled over the sides and there was a bright green cocktail umbrella perched in the drink.
“I don’t want that,” I said.
“Well, it’s a gift from that guy over there,” the bartender said. He sounded like he couldn’t possibly care less about what I wanted. When I didn’t answer, he added: “So, you gonna take it or not?”
“Um, yeah, I guess,” I said. I took the drink and sipped. It was overwhelming cold and sweet, and yet, after today, it was exactly what I needed. “Thanks,” I muttered.
The bartender shrugged. “Don’t thank me,” he said. “Thank him.”
I turned to look at my generous benefactor. He was on the younger side of forty, with thinning hair and a sports jacket. He looked sort of like a friend of my father’s, and the idea filled me with repulsion. Just like Barnes, I thought. Thinking about Barnes’s name was enough to tug at my heartstrings, and I took a rapid sip of the drink, guzzling so fast that I felt the painful sting of brain-freeze.