by Nic Saint
CHAPTER 24
There was something about the beach that beckoned to him. At this early hour, no beachcombers were out and about yet, and the only people he met on his morning stroll were the usual dog walkers—most of them neighbors he’d come to know over the past couple of years.
He stepped from his porch and ambled the couple of yards to the edge of the ocean. Standing where the waves splashed into soft splotches of white foam, he breathed in the bracing ocean air. This was probably what he’d miss the most, he thought. Taking a morning walk along the ocean, and breathing in that fresh scent of brine.
What he wouldn’t miss were the paparazzi and the rabid fans lying in wait to snap a picture of him with yet another one of his ‘conquests’.
He smiled when he thought of Chloe, his best kept secret so far. Only his mother, his manager Rupert, and Melinda, his agent, had any inkling, and he liked to keep it that way. He simply didn’t want her bombarded with that kind of attention.
He’d just waved hello to Gareth, the owner of the next condo, when his cell tinkled in his pocket. Fishing it out, he frowned at the display. Unknown number. He hesitated. He only gave his number out to close friends and family, letting Mel and Rupert handle his business affairs.
Then he figured why the hell not and picked up.
An unfamiliar male voice addressed him. “Joshua Poole?”
He rolled his eyes, knowing he’d made a mistake. None of the people he knew called him that. He had half a mind to hang up, but he was raised to be polite. “Who’s this?”
“Adrian Leash. Starz Magazine. Just wanted to give you a heads-up about tomorrow’s edition of our magazine, Joshua.”
A twinge of alarm rattled through his brain. “Why? What’s up?”
“We’re running a story about you and…” The reporter’s voice trailed off, as if he was checking something. “Ah, yes.” He thought he detected a smile in the voice. “Of course. The one and only Chloe Thomson. Quite a catch there, bud.”
Josh ground his teeth for all of one second, before growling, “What’s the story?”
“Well, you know, we got our hands on some pictures of you and Miss Thomson sharing a meal, so we’re running it under the headline ‘Chloe Sparks Poole’s Plug’. Though it could also be ‘New Flame Knocks Knox’. Anyway, something like that. You know the drill, right, Mr. Poole?”
“I know the drill,” Josh grunted. “Which doesn’t mean I like it. Could I convince you not to run it?”
“Sorry, buddy. Cat’s out of the bag, I’m afraid. If we don’t run it, any of a dozen other publications will. If they haven’t already. Any comment, by the way?”
“None,” he grumbled and hung up.
Oh, jeez, he thought, and immediately put in a call to Chloe. Voice mail. “Chloe, this is Josh. If you get this, can you call me back? Thanks. Bye.”
As he disconnected, he regretted the curtness of his message and left a second one. “PS. I had a great time last night. Can’t wait to see you again.”
It took less than a minute for Chloe to call him, and he was so elated to hear her sweet voice, he knew he had it bad this time.
“Hey, Josh. Listen, um… Something’s come up. Can I call you later?”
“Sure. It’s just that…”
“Thanks. There’s something I need to talk to you about, and I’d rather not do it over the phone.”
“Same here. What about we meet later on?”
“I’m not sure I can make it. Why don’t I give you a call?”
“Sure. My evening’s wide open.” He frowned at the frostiness of her tone.
“Great. Talk to you soon.”
And with those words, she disconnected, leaving him staring at his phone in confusion. Odd. Then he remembered her lunch date. Oh, dear. He immediately put in a call to his mother, his jaw setting. What had his self-appointed protector from female wiles done this time?
He tried to keep the edge out of his voice. “Hi, Mom. It’s me. How was your lunch date?”
Mom heaved a long sigh, and his heart sank. “Josh, honey. How many times have I told you to be upfront with a girl?”
“Upfront? What do you mean?”
“Isn’t there something you forgot to mention to Chloe? Some teensy-weensy little detail about your life?”
“Um…”
“More specifically the fact that you’re moving back to Pleasant Springs?”
His jaw dropped, as did his penny. “Dammit. I totally forgot about that.”
“I didn’t. And when I told Chloe, she was more than a little surprised.”
“I see.” He cringed, and could only imagine what she must think of him. The move, so important before Eden Island, had all but slipped his mind, the events on the island taking prevalence.
“She didn’t take it too well, Josh. When a girl gets involved with a boy, it’s nice to know he’ll still be around by the time their third date rolls around.”
“Was she very upset?”
“Not on the surface, but as you know, I’m a great judge of character. All those years helping your father run the ranch will do that to a girl. All I needed was one look to tell me exactly how the man was feeling. I call it a gift.”
He muttered a silent oath. Now was not the time for reminiscences about life on the dear old Reynolds Ranch. With an effort, he managed to remain civil. “How did she react?”
“I could tell that she didn’t appreciate your lack of sincerity. I think she took it to mean you’re not serious about this affair. That you don’t see it going anywhere. At least not beyond another couple of days.”
“Oh, God,” he groaned.
“God had nothing to do with this, honey. You did. And I think you have some explaining to do.”
CHAPTER 25
Seated behind her desk, Chloe stared out through the window at the house across the street. When she first moved into the neighborhood, a young man had lived there who was in the habit of doing yoga every morning. She’d often gotten up early to watch him go through the motions. Then he’d moved out, and a family of five had moved in. The yoga room had been turned into a children’s bedroom for two of the girls, and instead of watching a buff guy working out, now she found herself staring at an overlarge pink dragon squeezed up against the window.
It reminded her of the fact that things change, and change quickly. It also reminded her she’d probably lived here too long already. What had started as a temporary solution had turned into a semi-permanent residence. She wished, not for the first time, that her second career would finally take off so she could move into some nicer digs again.
Her gaze dropped to her laptop, where the outline for her novel sat blinking back at her.
Since leaving the island, she’d written all of two chapters, then the muse had deserted her.
It was as if the words simply didn’t flow anymore. The story felt contrived, the dialog stilted, the characters lackluster and bland. Whatever magic she’d possessed that one week with Josh had since evaporated, and the despair she felt extended beyond her literary qualities.
Josh was moving back to Pleasant Springs. He was leaving her and he hadn’t even mentioned the fact. It told her all she needed to know. They’d had a great time on the island, and one courtesy date to top it off. If she’d let him, she’d have ended up in his bed again. And then what? He’d have skipped town without so much as a goodbye kiss?
She felt hot tears stinging behind her eyes. How wrong she’d been about him. How he’d managed to deceive her with his charm and grace. She should have followed her instincts. First impressions are never wrong. Her first impression of him was that he was a callous brute and an insensitive grouch, and she’d probably not been far from the truth.
Just then, Kiki stuck his head in. “You mom’s here, honey. Are you coming down or is she coming up?”
She groaned in agony and swiped at her eyes.
“I guess you’re coming down.” With a worried frown, her sturdy friend retreated, and she
could hear him stomping down the stairs.
The good thing about living with a bunch of friends: you’re never alone. The bad thing: you’re never alone.
With a sigh, she heaved herself up from the chair and slouched to the door.
The house she lived in consisted of six bedrooms, one communal bathroom, inconveniently located on the top floor, family room on the ground floor and kitchen and toilet in the basement. The owner was a young woman who’d inherited the house from her grandparents. Not knowing what to do with such a big place, she’d decided to rent it out. The old folks who’d lived here had had a penchant for the antique. All the furniture was of the darkly varnished variety, light a resource they seemed to shun. Sometimes Chloe thought they must have been vampires, for the lack of light penetrating indoors. Even with all the lights on, the place still looked rather gloomy.
She trudged down the stairs and padded along the carpeted hallway to the family room door. This room, too, had been left the way it was, with wainscoted walls, some nice antiques, a chandelier that wouldn’t have looked out of place in Buckingham Palace, and three worn-out black leather sofas placed in front of a flatscreen TV, the only admission to modernity.
In one of the sofas, Mom was seated, nervously fidgeting with the hem of her coat. Like Chloe, she was petite, but her husband’s death had left her prematurely gray and her face lined. The gray was now covered by what the manufacturer of the hair product called mahogany brown but had come out more a sort of darkish purple. The wrinkles, alas, had defied every cream Mom had tried so far.
“Honey!” she exclaimed when Chloe waltzed in.
“Hey, Mom.”
Her mother enclosed her in a hug, then held her at arm’s length, a worried frown on her face. “What happened to you? Are you ill?”
“I’m fine. Just tired.” She so didn’t want to discuss her health or personal life with her mother. Ever since Mom had moved into a small apartment nearby, they saw more of each other than they’d had in years. She still wondered if this was a good thing or not. Though after the lunch date with Deirdre, she had to admit her own mother was a breath of fresh air compared to that woman.
Mom cast her a bright smile. “And? Did you get it?”
She frowned. “Did I get what?”
Mom’s face fell. “You forgot. Of course, you did. The signature! Joshua Poole’s signature!”
“Oh, that.” Chloe flung herself onto the three seater. “I’ll ask him later.”
“You’re seeing him tonight?”
Chloe nodded, feeling forlorn already.
“You’re going on a date with Joshua Poole? So you really clicked on the island, did you?”
Chloe hadn’t told her mom yet just how well they’d ‘clicked’, figuring she needed to find out for herself how things really stood between her and Josh. But since he was probably about to dump her, she saw no reason to leave her mother in the dark any longer.
“It’s not what you think, Mom. We’re just good friends.”
Her mom’s face fell a little. “Oh. Well. That’s nice, isn’t it? I’m sure it’s very nice to have a friend like Joshua.”
“He likes it when people call him Josh.”
“Josh, is it? Well, that’s nice. Really nice.” She leaned in, her face suffused with an excited flush. “And? How is he?”
Chloe shrugged. “He’s nice, I guess.”
Mom pursed her lips censoriously. “I really think you should see a doctor, Chloe. You sound terrible. Are you sure you’re not ill?”
“He’s moving away.”
“Who?”
“Josh. He’s going back to his hometown.”
“Oh?”
“He didn’t tell me, but his mother did.”
Mom’s eyebrows shot up. “His mother? You met Joshua’s—Josh’s mother?”
“It’s a long story.”
Mom’s face took on a determined expression. She got up and removed her coat, then took a seat beside Chloe and patted her daughter’s hand. “Tell me all about it, honey. I’ve got all day.”
Chloe couldn’t suppress her pent-up emotions any longer. She rolled her face into her mother’s lap and burst into tears. “Oh, Mom. He’s leaving and he didn’t even bother to tell me.”
CHAPTER 26
Josh checked his watch. Again. He’d arranged to meet Chloe at the small fountain near Surbrunton’s central square, and so far she was a no-show.
His phone rang, and he eagerly picked up, thinking it was Chloe. Checking the display, he saw it was his manager.
“Rupert. Did you get my message?”
“It’s a mess, Josh,” the man’s reedy voice twittered anxiously. “And it’s not just Starz Magazine. Every tabloid, gossip blog and other media vulture are running the story.”
“They’re running it—now?”
“You got it. Starz had the scoop, but that two-bit hustling paparazzo scum sold the pictures to every available outlet. It’s everywhere. They even have pictures of the two of you kissing on the beach.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. Dammit. “That bad, huh?”
“Well, they’re pretty grainy, but still came out nice. Some excellent lip action there, buddy.”
He suppressed a disgusted grunt. “I didn’t mean the quality of the pictures, Rupert.”
“Yeah, I got that. Listen, my phone’s been ringing off the hook for a comment. What do you want me to say?”
“No comment.”
“Gotcha. Though I got to tell you this will only get worse.”
“But why? I’m not some Hollywood hotshot. I’m a writer, for God’s sakes. Nobody’s interested in a writer’s love life. Why are they all over this?”
“It’s not just you, Josh. It’s her.”
“Her? How do you mean, her?”
“Didn’t she tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“This is Chloe Thomson we’re talking about.”
“I know. So?”
Rupert expelled what sounded like a surprised snort. “Bud. You really need to get with the program. She won American Idol a couple of years ago? She was well on her way to becoming a big name in showbiz, even had a couple of number one hits. But then her father died and she famously announced she was taking a year off to write a book? She kinda disappeared at that point. Laid low, I guess. She’s famous, dude. Well, about as famous as you, anyway.”
Josh’s mouth opened and closed a couple times, but no words would come.
“Josh? You still there? Josh!”
Finally, he simply disconnected, and let his arm hang limply by his side. Chloe was famous? He’d never been a fan of the whole pop circus, so he’d never heard of her. Had never actually paid attention. There were so many pop princesses rocketing up the charts these days. Who could keep up? But why hadn’t she told him who she was? Why keep her past a secret? And why start all over again in a different career? It was all too weird.
Just then, she came walking up. Simply watching her sashay toward him made his heart trill. But then he saw the set look on her face, and when he bent to kiss her lips, she offered her cheek instead. Uh-oh.
She plopped down onto the bench beside him and came straight to the point. “Deirdre told me you’re moving away. Next week.”
Her voice was all business, but he could sense the disappointment. Mom had been right. She was upset.
“I should have told you. I forgot. I’m sorry.”
She still refused to face him. “Forgot? You’re moving to the other side of the country in a week, and you forgot?” There was an edge to her voice and he didn’t blame her.
“I meant to tell you.”
She frowned. “That’s all right, Josh. You have your life. I have mine. So. Are you looking forward to going back?”
He held up his hands in a gesture of apology. “Look. I forgot, all right. Honest to God. Before, moving back home was the most important thing in the world to me, but then you happened, and everything else kinda slipped into the backgro
und. To be honest, I’m not even sure I want to go through with it.”
For the first time, she faced him. “Go through with what? With… us?”
He reached out and placed his hand on her cheek. “With the move.”
Her eyes were wide and her expression veiled. “Why wouldn’t you? You’ve probably been planning this for a long time.”
“I have. To be honest, ever since I came out here, I’ve missed my family, my friends…” He leaned back against the bench, staring at the fountain. It reminded him of his hometown. They had a fountain just like this one. “I came to New York to make it big, thinking this was where all the action was. The agents, the publishers, the media… I used to live in a small apartment in Brooklyn for the longest time, and when I finally joined the big leagues, and I could afford Long Island, I moved here in hopes of finding something of the peace and quiet of Pleasant Springs. But it’s just not the same. Even with Mom moving out here after the divorce, I never really felt at home.”
“So you figured you’d move back.”
“Yeah. At this point in my career I don’t need to be in New York anymore. I can write my books in Pleasant Springs.” He shrugged. “My writing might even improve, cause I won’t feel so miserable.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I can see how this million-dollar mansion of yours must really make you miserable.”
She was giving him a hard time, and he knew he deserved it. “You know what makes me miserable? The thought of leaving you. I was all ready to move back to Pleasant Springs, and then I met you. Now? I don’t know.”
That frown marred her smooth brow again. “You mean that?”
“Yes, I do.”
Their eyes met, and this time she didn’t look away.
“You do,” she said softly. “You’re serious.”
He lowered his head to hers and claimed her lips. She tilted her head, and when they melted into each other, he felt that familiar sensation tingling in his chest. Home. Whenever he was with her, he was home.