Accidental Texting: Finding Love despite the Spotlight

by Kimberly Montague

  Brent

  Cerise made polite conversation with Stewie and Sean. I watched Annalisa and attempted to avoid the conversation Cerise was trying to pull me in to. I tried not to glance in Sean's direction, but my eyes seemed to have a mind of their own.

  Just before lunch was ready, I heard my cell phone chirping at me and got up to check it. As I sat back down at the table, Cerise turned to me. "What made you leave the barn so late last night?"

  I shook my head, not wanting to discuss Brent as I opened the new text message sent to me. Immediately, my hands started shaking. I could feel all the color drain from my whole entire body. It was from Alvin.

  Honey, Brent just walked into Gypsy's Diner.

  "Morgan?" Sean was in front of me in seconds. "What is it?"

  I showed him the screen of my phone. "Alvin… he's back."

  Cerise stepped forward. "Morgan, Alvin never went anywhere."

  "No! No! Damn him!" I yelled, suddenly so blindingly angry and so afraid I couldn't stand it. I threw my phone at the wall as hard as I could just as Cerise's phone rang then Annalisa's. Sean put his hand on me, and I yanked it free, staring wildly around. I had to get out of there. I couldn't breathe. It was too hot. I pushed past him and launched out the front door and down the steps. I didn't even have shoes on, but I didn't care. I made it to the door leaving the barn and found Nathan and Rudy blocking my path.

  "Morgan, no. There are photographers out there. Morgan!" Rudy was trying to stop me, but I couldn't take in his words.

  Nathan put his arms around me in a strong embrace. "Hey, calm down. Calm down." After having been around him, trusting him, and relying on him at the premiere, his voice and strength comforted me enough to make me stop fighting against him.

  "Rudy, get Anthony, Troy, and Craig here now!" Sean's voice came from the stairs, and I could hear it getting closer.

  "He's back," I whispered into Nathan's chest. "I can't—he'll—"

  "Sean?" Nathan asked with genuine concern in his voice.

  I shook my head.

  He pushed me away a little and looked down at me. "Who, Morgan?"

  I couldn't answer and started backing away from him. When Sean pulled me into his arms, his cologne, his familiar warmth, his voice whispering soothing things in my ear—it all worked together to calm me down and make me wilt against him.

  "Where can we go to talk, sweetie?" he asked so gently.

  I raised my hand and pointed shakily to my painting room. He picked me up and carried me in there. I was certainly being carried around a lot these days. I didn't like it. Inside the small room, he set me down, but didn't take his arms from around me. I was beginning to feel like a rag doll being tossed from one pile of crap to another.

  "Look at me, sweetheart."

  I cringed, remembering the last time he'd called me "sweetheart" and the mocking, disgusted tone he used. I didn't want to look at him. I wanted to be left alone, or at least, my brain did. But my body was still clinging to him.

  "Morgan? Sweetie, look at me, please?" He took one arm from around me and nudged my chin up.

  When my eyes connected with his, I nearly collapsed in his arms again. The intensity between us was so powerful. The draw for me to get closer, kiss him, feel his skin against mine—it was all so overwhelming.

  "He won't hurt you again, Morgan. I'll stop him before he even gets close to you."

  I blinked twice. "You'll stop him from hurting me?"

  "Of course."

  My brain bounced that idea around. Sean would stop Brent from hurting me. That was a good thing, right? Sure. Except…"Who's gonna stop you from hurting me?"

  He closed his eyes and touched his forehead to mine. It was a valid question even if there was really no right way to respond to it. I stood up straighter and finally pulled out of his arms, walking shakily to my stool and feeling the stiffness of my ankle a lot more strongly after my freak out.

  His feet shuffled around the room. "My God, Morgan, these are amazing." The sincere appreciation in his tone almost made me smile, but too much had happened for me to smile.

  I turned my back to him and laid my head on the surface of the tall drawing table. I wrapped my arms around myself, wishing I'd put on a sweatshirt and at least some socks before rushing out of my apartment.

  He slowly walked over and put his hands on my arms, moving them up and down. He succeeded in keeping me warm, but that had less to do with the movement of his hands than with his close proximity. "I want another chance, Morgan. We can start from the beginning if you want to. We can take it slow and get to know each other. We can go on an actual date. I really—I know you don't trust me, and I don't deserve for you to, but I just don't want to live without you."

  This was clearly another fine moment in my life where it would be really useful to be able to choose who I loved. But I couldn't—and I loved Sean. I couldn't deny that. And I couldn't help but wonder if I would regret walking away from him. He had the potential to break my heart again, but I wasn't a child. I'd survived worse. I could survive him hurting me again and then I'd be able to walk away from him, knowing I'd given it my all—no regrets.

  "I'll do everything I can to prove myself to you," he begged. "And if it takes me forever to earn your trust again then I'll try forever if you'll just give me that chance." I turned around and looked into his eyes. He brushed his fingers against my cheek.

  I didn't know if I could trust him. I wasn't sure if I could forget or even forgive the way he'd treated me, but I didn't want him out of my life either. I was a conflicted mess. I wasn't willing to promise anything, but I had to admit to wanting to give him another chance. "Okay." My voice was sad and tired.

  His shoulders relaxed, and he crushed me to him. I couldn't just flip a switch and be fine with Sean, but I also couldn't lie to myself—everything felt a little better in his arms. When he kissed the top of my head, I rubbed my cheek against his chest and cuddled closer to him. Still, my feet were freezing, and I shivered.

  "Let's go back upstairs," he suggested, and at my nod, picked me up into his arms.

  "Why is everyone always carrying me these days?"

  "Well I don't know why anyone else is doing it, but I really want to see you keep those cute red toes."

  "Oh." Right, frostbite. It was a pretty logical concern.

  Halfway up the stairs, he whispered, "And I'll use any excuse I can think of to hold you in my arms."

  It was against my better judgment—it was against any kind of judgment considering how he had hurt me—but I was so tired, and I missed him so much that I relaxed in his arms and buried my face against his neck. He sighed and held me tighter, blocking out the insanity falling around my shoulders.

  Back in my apartment, Stewie was sitting in the chair I had vacated. Annalisa was talking on her phone while Stewie rubbed her back, and Cerise was on her phone in the living room. But they all looked up when Sean carried me into the apartment. He set me down immediately, and I walked down the hall to get a pair of warms socks from my bedroom, favoring my ankle.

  Back at the table, Sean was seated at the end seat Stewie originally sat in, and I stood there debating whether to sit near Sean or Stewie. I wanted to sit near Sean, but I didn't want him to think everything was back to normal. It completely wasn't. I also didn't want him to think I wasn't going to give him another chance. Cerise finally pushed me toward the chair nearest Sean, taking the choice away from me. She pulled another chair in front of it and put a pillow down, gesturing for me to prop my foot up. Annalisa brought a bag of ice as she said goodbye on her cell phone.

  "Well. That was interesting," Annalisa announced.

  I ducked my head and looked toward the wall where I'd thrown my cell phone. It wasn't on the floor, so someone must have cleaned up the mess. I was pretty sure it was shattered—I'd certainly thrown it hard enough.

  Annalisa set her phone on the table. "No one will speak to him."

  I looked up at her in surprise.

  "Yep.
That's what I got from Lutz," Cerise said, nodding. "Gypsy wouldn't even serve him water. She told him to get out. Even the old bitties shunned him."

  "Are you serious?" I finally asked loudly. Brent was like the glowing golden child when he lived in town. He wasn't born and raised here like I was. He moved to Castleton when he was 22, which conveniently was when I turned 18 and started attending family reunions again. But everyone in town loved him from the start. He was charming and intelligent—he could win anyone over.

  "They're loyal to you, Morgan," Annalisa explained.

  "Some of them, but the old bitties? And Gypsy? I'm her competition."

  "You're ours," Annalisa said simply. "We protect our own here."

  "But they talk about me behind my back."

  "Yes," Cerise nudged me. "But only family is allowed to talk about you behind your back. Brent is an outsider, who hurt you badly. I don't think anyone can forget the look on your face for weeks after the wedding. Which reminds me." She leaned forward and pointed at Sean. "You'll have to be really careful around here. The only thing worse than her face after Brent was her face this past week. Seriously. You need to be careful around here."

  I threw my head down on the table in embarrassment.

  "I deserve it," Sean said clearly.

  "Yes, you do," Cerise said over my head. Then she patted my back. "We've got a lot of talking to do about you, so just sit up and show us that pretty red face of yours. We all love you, so stop hiding." I turned my head and glared at her, but left it on the table. She brushed the hair out of my eyes and gave me a small, sympathetic smile. "Well that's a step in the right direction. So we don't have to worry about anyone harboring that asshole, and I think the goon squad down there can handle him, but between Brent and the pile of photographers floating around town, I think we need help." She looked over my head at Sean.

  "Way ahead of you—Rudy's bringing in Troy, Craig, and… Anthony."

  "Anthony?" Stewie looked surprised. "I thought that was a no-go."

  Sean groaned loudly. "He just better keep his eyes to himself."

  Stewie laughed. "You know he won't. You don't intimidate him."

  "Who's Anthony?" Annalisa was wise enough to ask Stewie the question.

  He smiled up at her and pulled her to stand between his legs. "Anthony is a flirt. You've heard of people being a compulsive liar? Well Anthony is a compulsive flirt. We don't even think he knows he's doing it. It's like a natural talent or something. He will shamelessly flirt with every female in a fifty mile radius and have you all thinking he only has eyes for you. It's funny to watch."

  "Unless he's going after your girl," Sean argued.

  "He did that once, and you beat him to a pulp. Not that that would stop him in this case." He looked back up at Annalisa. "He has a thing for redheads."

  My head came up at that. "Oh no! No, no, no!" I turned to Sean, practically begging. "Don't I have enough to deal with?"

  He put his hand on mine. "He's the best, Morgan. Really. He's been training almost as long as I have. And even if he can't keep his mouth shut, he never has his head out of the game."

  "Which game?" I glared at Sean.

  "The game of protecting people. I can't be with you here. It'll only make it worse. They'll come after both of us, and I can't touch them or I run the risk of being sued. Vermont isn't like California. There aren't as many laws protecting us here. I don't want you to stay under lock and key, so I need someone who is completely capable of handling these guys. Anthony is that guy. I don't trust his mouth, but I trust everything else about him."

  "But you didn't trust him in California. Why now? Or is it me you didn't trust around him? Did you think I'd go after him like you thought I went after Floyd?" I glared at him, knowing I was being antagonistic, but he had kept him from me in California. I specifically remembered that conversation.

  He put his hand on my cheek and brought my ear close to his lips. "I kept him away from you in California because I wasn't sure how much you cared for me. I know you wouldn't give me a second chance if you didn't feel strongly about me. I trust you, but that's nothing compared to the trust I have in how we feel about each other."

  "Then why do you still look worried?" I asked loud enough for everyone to hear.

  He smiled and leaned back in his chair. "I'm afraid you might break your hand on his jaw."

  Annalisa went back into the kitchen and Stewie leaned forward onto the table "So Anthony then, huh? The whole entourage—this'll be interesting. Where will we stay?"

  Sean looked back at me. "That's the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. I'm just making a suggestion, and I want you to hear me out, make a decision, and then I won't bring it up again."

  I nodded and let out a deep breath. I seriously needed more sleep for this.

  "I'm buying a small house about fifteen minutes from here. I'd rent, but it's really just easier with paperwork and privacy to go ahead and buy it. I want you to come live there with me and the guys, and Mel is coming too. You don't have to stay with me; you can have your own room. But the pile of photographers won't camp outside the inn if they think they'll get pictures of both of us at the house. I can protect you better there, and it might give you some separation from the inn so it can still be run as an inn instead of paparazzi central." He leaned back in his chair. "Okay, I'm done."

  I stood up and walked gingerly into the living room. I liked my home. It was comfortable. It reminded me of Mom. And while I never expected to live my whole life here, I had thought I would until the right guy came along and we were ready to start a family. I was so not at that point.

  But he had valid arguments, and I wasn't so stubborn that I couldn't see them. How could the inn continue to run if I was attracting so much unwanted attention? Who would come to the inn to relax if you couldn't get in the door because of the paparazzi? And the lower level of the barn was pretty easy to get into; someone could break in, and I wouldn't even know it. But I could have that fixed. The two things that bothered me the most were not having my own space away from Sean and leaving my home—my mother's home—empty.

  "Morgan?" Cerise walked over to stand at the window with me. "Want me to listen?"

  I nodded and quietly relayed all the fears I had just catalogued in my head.

  "I'm really happy to hear that you're thinking about this. I was a little worried you were gonna be a stubborn butt." She laughed lightly. "I can offer possible solutions, but I have no answers." I sat on the couch and got comfortable as she joined me. "Okay. Comfort is important, but safety is more important, so I have to toss comfort out the window. The attention thing can go two ways. Either we have more business because they want a glimpse of Sean, or we have no business and you have to close. Either way stinks. But if you take yourself out of the equation, it might calm down the attention and let the inn be the inn. It might take a while, but they'll leave the inn alone eventually. We can get Lutz and his crew down here to fix the barn. We can even get an alarm system put in. And, if you don't want your home to be empty, I can move into the guest bedroom."

  "I wouldn't want you to leave your home just to make me feel better."

  "Morgan, we've both been talking crap about my apartment for years. I've just been too lazy to leave the rat-trap. There's no internet, no hot water half the time, and that elephant that lives upstairs is always pissing me off. And it's not like it'd be an inconvenience for me to suddenly be living next door to my job, either. I might even be on time more often." We both smiled—being late was always her tragic flaw. "Now, missing your mom is big. But you miss her no matter where you are. The question is what's more important—living here to remember your mom or keeping the inn alive to remember your mom."

  When she laid it all out there like that, the answer was pretty clear. But it didn't change the whole Sean and me living together issue.

  "But—" I glanced toward the kitchen.

  "I know. I don't know what to say about you and Sean. I'm working on a brilliant argum
ent for that. The only thing I can say is if we made a pro-con list, the pros for moving in with him would still have it."

  I let my head drop to her shoulder. I was hoping for something more reassuring than that. But I had a responsibility to the inn I had to think about.

  "I guess I'm moving," I mumbled.

  I expected her to be happy. She seemed to want to see me give Sean another chance. Instead, she patted my leg and said softly, "It'll be okay."

  Home Sweet Home

  "I don't care, Stewie." Sean was leaned back in his chair with his arm draped over the back, looking in my direction as we walked back to the table. "They can terminate if they want and besides, I'm pretty sure it was in violation of some kind of human rights law to make the contract anyway. I only did it because I wanted to make sure Michelle would stick to her end of the bargain. I don't care about that anymore."

  Stewie rolled his eyes. "They didn't say they would terminate your contract just that they may not wish to have you cast in another movie of theirs."

  Sean laughed, but there was no humor in it. "That's a big threat. I've made them a lot of money. If they don't want me, I'm sure every other company does. Besides, I'm not looking to start another project for a while. I need some time away from this crap."

  "I'm just making sure you've thought about every angle."

  "I have, but there's only one that means anything to me." He reached out and put his hand over mine. "Do you need more time to think about it? I can understand if you do."

  "No." I stared at the table. "I've thought about it. For the sake of the inn, I—I'll come live with you." I looked up at Annalisa, who was smiling. "Cerise is gonna move in here."

  Annalisa clapped her hands together, her smile even brighter. "Two safer friends in one hour, I'm loving this."

  "Sean," Stewie said sternly. "I just want to say again—"

  "Stewie!" Annalisa yelled in her sugary sweet I'm-going-to-kill-you voice. "Honey, shut up. He heard you." I smiled at the way Stewie shrank down in his chair. She had him so whipped.