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by Samantha Chase


  One

  Evangeline

  A small group of preteen girls squealed as I got out of the chauffeured car and tried to hurry into the back door of an old apartment building in downtown Baltimore. The building had been vacant for more than a year and had been leased for the next month to use as the primary set for my new film.

  The group of squealers was a normal collection of my fans—maybe eight or ten fresh-faced girls thrusting out various objects for me to sign. My assistant, Cali, had told me on the ride over that the location of the film set had been leaked on one of my fan sites, but only the die-hard fans would manage to talk their parents or older siblings into hauling them over here before eight in the morning.

  The girls didn’t bother me particularly today, except I had a headache, and the high-pitched squeals didn’t help.

  I’d been the star of a popular teenaged cable show all through my teens—singing and dancing and over-acting my way through the life experiences of a girl who stumbled clumsily into Broadway stardom—and it was hard to shake that image and the fans that came along with it.

  It might actually be impossible, although I was trying.

  I signed autographs for a minute, keeping the fake, bright smile on my face, until Cali said we had to get inside, and I breathed a sigh of relief when the noise was shut outside.

  I needed coffee and ibuprofen and a little quiet, but I was likely to just get the first two.

  “Evangeline. There you are.”

  I turned to see Jimmy, my long-time manager, walking over from the donuts laid out on the craft service table. Twelve years ago, when my parents had hired him in the hopes that I would become a star, he’d had such a laidback and paternal air that I’d immediately liked him, and nothing had changed in the intervening years.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, studying my face.

  I hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, and it probably showed on my face. “I’m fine. A headache.”

  Cali jumped into action to get me some pills while Jimmy glanced around the old, no-frills building—a far cry from the Hollywood studios I was used to. Most of the interior shots for the film would be done here and in an alley just outside, and then we’d film on location throughout Baltimore for the rest of them.

  “What do you think?” Jimmy asked, still watching my face. He might act laidback, but he was the most observant man I’d ever met.

  I shrugged. “I’m not looking for luxury here. I’m looking for a change.”

  “Well, this is definitely going to be a change for you.”

  I’d agreed to a role in this gritty independent film because it was totally different from everything I’d done before. After the cable show ended, I’d made a couple of albums and toured the country, doing major concerts and appearances. Then I’d starred in a movie—a big-budget musical—and then done a prime-time sitcom that had been canceled after one season. I could have done another musical or an over-the-top romantic comedy that traded on my teenage reputation, but I wanted to be stretched, to prove to the world that I could do more than dress in purple and belt out a peppy song. So when I was offered the role of a good girl who gets pulled into a bleak world of drug addiction and crime when she falls for the wrong guy, written by an edgy screenplay writer who was getting increasing acclaim, I decided to go for it—since no one in the world thought I could do it.

  Maybe I couldn’t do it, but I was sure as hell going to try.

  Cali came back with pills for my headache and a bottle of water, so I gulped them down and asked for coffee.

  “So everything was all right last night?” Jimmy asked.

  I knew what he was asking. “Yeah. No incidents.”

  “Incidents” was how we referred to the threats I’d been getting—notes, packages, a couple of phone calls. I’d been hoping they would stop when I came to Baltimore, assuming the asshole was located in LA. But the night I’d arrived, I’d been delivered a dead rose, so whoever was doing it wasn’t discouraged by the distance.

  That was when I’d called Sebastian.

  “That’s good. It doesn’t look like you got much sleep, though.”

  “I didn’t. Too on edge. But maybe I’ll look more in character for this role—with the blood-shot eyes and all.”

  “Your eyes aren’t blood-shot,” Cali said from beside me. “You look beautiful.”

  Cali would have said that whether it was true or not, so the words weren’t particularly encouraging.

  I was blessed with good skin, vibrant red hair, and a slender, shapely body. I didn’t really think I was particularly special in the looks department, but I was often included on lists of beautiful people or hot actresses. Today, however, was definitely not my most attractive day.

  “It doesn’t matter. You won’t be shooting anything today anyway.” Jimmy was moving me toward a room that had been made into a dressing room for me. “You need to take care of yourself, though.” He glanced over at Cali. “Get her a massage or something for later today, will you?”

  Cali nodded and started working on her ever-present phone.

  I sighed. I wouldn’t mind a massage, but it wasn’t really going to fix anything.

  I had some sort of stalker who kept sending me increasingly nasty threats. It made me feel sick, exposed, completely vulnerable. And if this film was a flop, I’d have to go back to singing for the teeny-boppers, since it would be a sign I wasn’t really equipped to do anything else.

  And all the massages in the world weren’t going to change either of those things.

  ***

  I was finishing my coffee in the dressing room a few minutes later when my phone chirped.

  Cali usually took possession of my phone while I was working, but I grabbed it before she could snatch it away.

  Sebastian’s name popped up with a text that said simply, “He’s on his way.”

  Irrationally, I felt a little better.

  I’d grown up with Sebastian. Our families had been friends, and we’d gone to the same exclusive schools since kindergarten, although he was two years older than me. We’d even dated some as teenagers, when I was back home in D.C. between filming seasons.

  Nothing had ever been serious between us, but he felt like family, and I was glad I’d made the decision to contact him about my problem. When he’d gotten out of the Marines, he’d started up a security firm with some of his buddies, and I couldn’t help but envy the way he’d broken away from the pressure of his family and made his own way in the world.

  That was what I wanted too—to not give into the demands of everyone around me, who wanted me to be a perky princess who made everyone a lot of money. I wanted to really be me. Just me. If Sebastian could do his own thing, then maybe I could too.

  It was just taking me longer.

  “Sebastian’s guy is on his way,” I told Cali, who was waiting expectantly for me to report. “Maybe you can go catch him when he arrives and bring him back here.”

  “Sure. Malcolm says he’s an asshole.”

  “Well, Malcolm isn’t going to like him no matter what, since he thinks he’s treading on his territory. I can explain that I just want someone else to help with the stalker situation, but Malcolm is still going to think I don’t trust him.”

  “Do you trust him?”

  I shrugged. “I think so. He’s always done a fine job. I just don’t know why they can’t get control of this guy. Another person on the job can only help, so Malcolm is just going to have to suck up his hurt feelings.”

  “Should I tell him that?” There was almost a smile on Cali’s face.

  “Please don’t. Just go wait for this guy, will you?”

  Cali nodded and left the room, and I went to stretch out on the small couch against the wall. The day hadn’t even started, and I was already exhausted. I wondered if anyone would notice if I just collapsed on the couch and took a nap.

  My head felt a little better when I closed my eyes.

  A few minutes later, there was a tap on
the door, and I opened my eyes slowly, not wanting to jar the headache back.

  Cali opened the door—she was used to not always waiting for a response—so I hadn’t even turned my head when there were two people standing in the dressing room.

  Cali was one.

  And the guy was another.

  When Sebastian said he had a buddy who was better at security than anyone he’d ever known, I’d expected the man to be kind of like Sebastian. Clean-cut. Articulate. Maybe even handsome.

  This guy wasn’t any of those thing.

  He was strong, with impressive shoulders and suppressed power in his stance. But he looked rough, unshaven, with a square jaw and steel gray eyes that were strangely challenging.

  He didn’t look anything like Sebastian. He didn’t look anything like the guys I was used to seeing.

  He looked like he belonged in this dark, gritty, crime drama I was acting in now. He could have been the lead.

  All of this flashed through my head in the few seconds I blinked at him, until I realized I was supine on the little couch in my leggings and tunic-style top, which was presently riding up too high.

  Pulling myself together, I sat up and smiled at him—my normal, friendly smile with which I always greeted new people. “Hi. I’m Evangeline. Thanks for coming out.”

  The guy gave a grunt that might have been a word—but not an identifiable one.

  Feeling annoyed that he couldn’t even stretch himself enough to smile, I stood up, wincing slightly when my headache came back with full force. I reached a hand out to him, a gesture he was forced to return in order to shake my hand.

  His grip was strong, warm—almost uncomfortably firm. It felt just as challenging as his gaze did.

  “So Sebastian gave you the background and everything?” I asked, deciding that getting down to business made the most sense, since this guy clearly didn’t want to be friendly.

  “Yes. I’ve done my homework.”

  I waited to hear about what homework he’d done, but he didn’t offer any details. His eyes raked over me, leaving me feeling almost naked.

  What the hell was with this guy’s attitude, anyway?

  “Okay. Any thoughts then?”

  “Not yet, but I just got here.” His eyes narrowed, and they shifted from me to the rest of the dressing room—which was small and simple, with none of the luxury I was used to. His gaze rested on the large bouquet of roses and orchids, which Jimmy had ordered for me to brighten up the sparse room.

  “Okay,” I said again, feeling half-awkward and half-annoyed. Now, I was the first to admit that my life had been privileged in a lot of ways, and people probably went out of their way to please me—just based on my fame and my money. But I couldn’t believe that this guy’s rudeness would be acceptable, no matter who he was talking to. “Just so you know, my current security isn’t too happy about the fact that I brought you in.”

  “I could tell. But you shouldn’t get in a fuss about that, since your staff could be part of the problem here.”

  “What?” My response was torn between annoyance at his patronizing tone in saying I might “make a fuss” and concern about the idea that my staff was a problem. “What are you talking about?”

  “There might be a reason why these threats keep getting through to you, even though you should have more than enough protection. You need to look at your staff.”

  I stiffened my shoulders, really bothered by this idea. Obviously, it had occurred to me as a possibility, but I only had a small number of people who worked for me, and they’d all been with me for years. I couldn’t believe any of them would be responsible for something so nasty—something obviously intended to hurt me.

  It made me even more scared. Even more vulnerable.

  “This is why you brought me in,” the guy said tersely. “Getting pissy about it isn’t going to help.”

  I blinked, trying to figure out what he was talking about. Maybe it was the headache, or maybe it was because people normally went out of their way to be nice to me, but it took me several seconds to realize that he thought I was being pissy.

  He thought I was being pissy.

  I sucked in a sharp breath. “There’s no reason to talk that way to me. And I wasn’t inclined to be pissy until you came in here with that attitude.”

  “There’s no attitude.” He met my eyes and seemed to tower over me, although I was tall and he was only a few inches taller. “I’m here to do a job. I don’t waste my time with sugar-coating things. I’ll keep you safe, and I’ll find out who’s doing this to you, but I don’t cater to princesses or prima donnas.”

  I was so shocked and outraged that I almost sputtered. I felt my cheeks blaze hot, and my fingers tightened at my sides. I actually wanted to slug this guy. I couldn’t remember the last time I fought that particular instinct.

  Before I could get any word spoken—much less the frigid set-down his obnoxiousness deserved—Cali reappeared in the doorway.

  “They want you out front for the read-through,” she said, looking curiously between the two of us, as if she’d sensed something was off.

  I cleared my throat. “I’ll talk to you later,” I said to the guy, hoping I sounded appropriately dismissive. “What’s your name, anyway?”

  He’d moved to leave immediately, but he paused at my last question. Turning his head to give me a cool look, he said, “I’m Cole.”

  Cole. The name fit him somehow, although Coal would be even more appropriate.

  Deciding the thing that would annoy him the most was to not react to his rudeness, I had a sudden inspiration. “If you’ll excuse me, Cole,” I said with my sweetest of smiles, “We can talk later.”

  He blinked, looking briefly surprised, but then he narrowed his eyes as he shot me one last look and left the room.

  I blew out a sigh as I watched his tight butt and strong back leave the room.

  As soon as I got a break, I was going to call Sebastian. There was no way I was going to put up with this asshole for more than a day.

  ***

  “Just give him some time,” Sebastian said, sounding like he was smiling on the other end of the phone. “It takes a while to warm up to him, but Cole is a good guy.”

  “I don’t care what kind of goodness is buried beneath the surface. I don’t have time or patience to try to find it. I need help now, and this guy is rude and hostile and inappropriate, and I don’t want him hanging around me.” I was alone in my dressing room now after a first read-through, but I glared at the closed door, where Cole had been standing earlier that morning.

  “He’s all we can send you. The rest of us are booked up right now.”

  “Why can’t you come out? I’d much rather have you here.”

  “I know, but it’s just not going to work right now. Cole is just as good as I am. Better, probably. If anyone can take care of this business for you, it’s him.”

  “Well, can’t you tell him to try to be nice? I’m under enough stress without putting up with his attitude.”

  “I’ll talk to him.”

  “It’s not like we have to be friends, but I don’t think it’s too much to expect some basic courtesy.”

  Sebastian chuckled. “It might be too much to expect out of Cole, but I’ll talk to him.”

  “I mean, normal people don’t pick a fight on first meeting someone. It’s like he has something against me, before he’s even really met me.”

  “It’s not personal. It’s just his way.”

  “Well, he needs to change his way, because I’m not going to put up with it.”

  “You shouldn’t have to put up with it.” He sounded like he was smiling again. “Let him have it. I promise he deserves it.”

  “I know he deserves it. Asshole.” I wasn’t sure why I was getting so riled up about the guy. A two-minute conversation shouldn’t have bugged me so much. I breathed out, telling myself to calm down and not get so bothered by something so unimportant.

  “He really got on your bad
side quick. You’re usually pretty easy-going.”

  “I know! But I’m telling you he was horrible. I’ll pay you double if you come out and send him away.”

  Sebastian laughed out loud. “I’m sorry, Evangeline. But it has to be Cole. What’s he doing now, anyway?”

  “I don’t know. He’s probably interrogating my staff some more. My assistant said he gave her the third-degree for almost an hour. I mean, Cali has been with me since I was thirteen. Does he think she’s suddenly turned into some sort of crazed stalker?”

  “He’s probably just trying to get background information. Be patient. I promise Cole will be able to help.”

  “He better. Okay, I’ve got to get going.”

  “I’ll talk to Cole and tell him to try to rein in his worst instincts.”

  “There’s going to be an awful lot to rein in,” I muttered, before I said goodbye and hung up.

  This whole situation sucked. It was bad enough to know that someone was threatening me.

  It was even worse to have to put up with a guy like Cole in order to keep myself safe.

  I honestly wasn’t sure which was worse.

  Two

  Cole

  “If you’re calling to check up on me and lecture me on catering to your little princess friend, I’m not interested.” As soon as I’d seen Sebastian’s name on my phone, I knew he was calling to bitch at me. Well, maybe not bitch, but certainly to lecture. No doubt the diva had called and cried because I didn’t bow down and fall all over myself in her presence.

  Worst. Job. Ever.

  “Man, don’t you ever get tired of being such a pain in the ass?” Sebastian asked wearily. “I mean, honestly, it’s exhausting for the rest of us to have to deal with you. Why can’t you just, you know, be normal?”

  “I hate to break it to you, but this is normal for me. If she’s already running to you and crying, that’s her problem. I’m not here to be her friend or part of her fan club. I’ve got a job to do.”

  “I get that, Cole, but can’t you do the job without being so freaking difficult?”

  “How was I being difficult? She finally arrives here, and after playing the giggly school girl with her fan club, she allows me to hold court with her. I walk into her dressing room and she’s napping. Fucking napping! It was only like...nine in the morning! Who does that?”

 

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