I felt the tension ease out of my shoulders. I hadn’t shared my insecurities with anyone. “It’s ‘Benecca.’ Every time I turn around, there’s a picture or a clip of them.”
“Oh.” Quinn nodded. “I can see how that would get a girl down.”
“And it’s not like I’m actually jealous, because I know he’s with me.” I laid my guitar on the empty end of the couch, propped by pillows. “But, dammit. I don’t know how much more of it I can take.”
“What does Ben say about it?”
“He tries to prepare me for anything that’s going to be released so I have a heads up, but it doesn’t mean I like it any more. And then last night I guess a bunch of people from the set went out together and Rebecca was there, and then they got caught by the press when they left the bar.”
“Kind of like how they got us?”
“Yes, I guess it was like that.” I sipped the vanilla latte. “I know it doesn’t mean anything to him and he’s just trying to protect me, but I hate it.” I stared at Quinn. “I hate it. I think I hate her too.”
She leaned closer. “I’ve known Ben for a while.” I bristled at the reference—I still didn’t know how close their past was. There never seemed to be a good way to ask either of them. “And he’s the kind of guy who likes to take charge. He likes to call the shots. I guarantee you he doesn’t like this situation any more than you do.”
“I know, but it doesn’t change anything.”
“You’re right. It doesn’t, but you’ve got to give him some slack. At least he’s trying. I know he’d rather be here in Texas with you than out there. He hates L.A. He loves you.”
“Maybe our timing is off. We shouldn’t have met yet.”
“Don’t say that. You met exactly when you were supposed to.”
I sighed into my latte. Riding off into the sunset with my movie star was turning into more of an eclipse.
Quinn stood up. “You know what we need to do?”
“What?”
“We need a girls’ day.”
“But we have to finish the album.” I suddenly felt guilty for sabotaging our writing session. I knew Quinn’s time was precious.
“Whatever. We can do that later. We have to get you out of this funk. Heartbreak is one thing—that you can at least channel into music. Funk is the wasteland for creativity. We can’t have that.” She tugged on my arm. “Spa day on me—nails, hair, facials—the whole works. Come on!”
I reluctantly stood from the couch. “I guess.”
“I promise, by the end of the day, you’ll feel ten times better and will have a whole new outlook on this relationship crisis. Let’s go.”
Quinn turned off the lights behind us and pointed me toward the elevators.
***
I looked at my reflection in the salon mirror.
“So what do you want to do with it?” The stylist dumped my auburn strands on my shoulder.
“You know I think you should do something completely different.” Quinn piped in from the chair next to mine.
“Like what?” My hair had always looked the same.
“Oh, I know what would be a cute. You should do a chin-length bob.” She flipped through a hair magazine and pointed to a picture with a similar style.
“I can even add in some bangs,” my stylist offered. She swooped the front of my hair over my forehead to show me the effect of the look.
“Really? That sounds drastic.” I studied my hair. It already seemed like my highlights from the summer sun were fading. My locks were drab, just like this depressing rain. Maybe they were right.
“Definitely.” Quinn smiled. “I change my hair all the time. Keeps things interesting.”
“Ok, let’s do it.” I nodded at my stylist. “Give me a whole new look.”
“You got it.” She swiveled me in the chair, taking the mirror out of my view.
Two hours later, I admired the change in my appearance. I almost didn’t recognize the girl in the mirror. She looked older. Sophisticated. Glamorous.
“Holy shit, girl.” Quinn whistled. “That is the perfect hairstyle for you. I need that look next time.”
“You think?” I cupped the ends in my palm. They reached just below my chin. I shook my head feeling the new weightlessness. The bangs were shaggy and chunky.
“Absolutely. Now, come on. We have pedicures next. And there are cocktails.” She winked and bounced toward the next room in the spa.
I climbed out of the salon chair. My rainy-day funk was starting to evaporate.
***
I threw my bag into the recliner in the great room and turned on the TV. As soon as I saw the latest “Benecca” pictures, I turned to ESPN. Football coverage was welcome after all of that crap. I didn’t want anything spoiling my good mood. It had taken a full day of pampering to achieve.
My phone rang and I fished it out of my bag, turning the college football rundown on low volume.
“Derek! Hey.” I smiled and settled back into the leather chair. It had been weeks since I had talked to him.
“Hey, how’s it going?” His voice sounded tense.
“Something’s wrong. I can tell.” I realized it was odd he was calling at all. Things had gotten better between us, but we would never be the same. I missed the way it used to be when we were friends, before we had crossed the line. Thank God we hadn’t slept together. There may have been no recovering from that.
“I don’t know how to tell you this.”
“Just spit it out. Is everyone ok?” I was sure my parents would call if someone were sick.
“Yes and no.” There was a long pause before he continued. “There’s no easy way to say this. Everyone knows, Chelsea.”
“Knows? Knows what?” There was no way he was talking about this morning’s headline with Ben. No one on Brees Island cared what happened in Hollywood.
“They know about Eileen and your dad.”
The walls fell away and I blinked hard. “They know? Who knows?” I lifted my hand to run it through my hair, but it was all gone. I felt the emptiness when I got to my chin. Panic hit me. “My mom. Derek, tell me my mom doesn’t know.”
“That’s why I’m calling you. I thought you would want to know.”
“But how? Why?”
“Bertie caught them at Eileen’s shop when she went to pick up some gifts for her grandkids. She ran out of there so fast she got hit by a car backing out of a parking space. She had to be airlifted to Norfolk for leg surgery.”
“Oh my God.” I was trying to picture the scene.
“She was so surprised and in so much pain, she kept screaming about what she had seen in the shop. Everyone heard it. There was no way it wasn’t getting back to your mom at that point.”
“When did this happen? Have you seen her? How is she?”
“No, she’s still in recovery up in Norfolk.”
I tried to swallow my instant guilt. I was asking about my mom. I hadn’t thought to check on Bertie. “And my mom? What about her?’
“My parents haven’t seen her and neither have I. Do you want me to go over or something?”
“No!” I couldn’t imagine the embarrassment it would cause my mom if Derek showed up on her doorstep. “I’ll come home. I can be there tomorrow.”
I looked around the ranch. All I had to do was throw some things in a bag. I could catch a flight tomorrow, maybe even borrow the jet.
“Aren’t you kind of busy out there?” Derek asked.
I regretted the spa day with Quinn. We could have knocked out another song, but there wasn’t anything to be done. My mother needed me and I had to get home.
“It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing more important right now. I’ll be there tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry I had to call you about this.” Derek’s voice was low.
“I’m glad you did. If anything comes up, let me know. Ok?”
“I will. See you soon.”
“Bye, Der.” I hung up the phone and raced up the stairs.
/>
I started tossing clothes in my suitcase. I could barely see what I was packing. The tears were heavy and thick. I slid to the bathroom floor and buried my face in my hands. How could he do this? I sobbed. How could he ruin the safety my mother had? Destroy a life of memories? A life as a family?
All I could picture was my mother alone in our big house, hiding from the windows, wringing her hands with worry. Everyone in town feeling pity for her. My chest tightened, knowing that everyone who passed by would shake their head and think: “What a shame. Poor Cindy Davis. She didn’t see it coming.”
I curled into a ball and let the tears fall on the marble floor.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ben
I rubbed my eyes. I had been dumped, and then got the girl back in a matter of ten hours. I was completely exhausted and wiped out of every emotion. Fake breakups were challenging, especially when they mirrored my own life. I was ready to wrap for the day, but Art wanted one more take on the make-up scene. It had to be epic. It had to jump off the screen and tear at the audience’s heart.
I had never kissed someone so many times in a row. Well, other than Chelsea. It almost felt as if my lips would be black and blue. Rebecca didn’t hold anything back. At times, her lips were like a vicious tiger attacking me to save her life. Then in an instant they were tender and soft. She was all over the place.
There were moments when I thought I had tackled more in this role than any other in my life. The physicality of playing a spy wore me out, but it also invigorated me. This role took me somewhere I didn’t know I was capable of going. I could feel it. Reluctantly, I admitted I was growing as an actor alongside Rebecca. Julian Love was someone I was supposed to be, no matter how up and down this roller coaster had been.
I still hadn’t talked to Chelsea, and it had to be close to midnight in Texas by now. I prayed she had listened to all my voicemails, as much as I hated leaving excuses on a recording. Rebecca was ready to start again. I whispered to the makeup artist that I needed Chapstick before we started the scene. My lips might not survive another round against Becs.
I coated my lips and stepped in front of Rebecca, waiting to hear action.
“How do you think things are going today, babe?” She wrapped a cool palm around the base of my neck.
“Fine.”
“Fine? After all this, that’s what you have to say?” She pulled back to look at me. “We might as well be shooting a detergent commercial.”
“It’s better than fine, I guess. We’ll have to see it on playback.”
“You have got to be kidding me, Ben. We’ve spent an entire day together pouring our hearts out, and you want to see the playback? You don’t feel any of it?”
I felt eyes on me from the perimeter of the set.
“Becs.” I lowered my voice. “Come on, don’t make this about us. I think the scenes are great. You’ve really taken it to a new level today, ok?” I didn’t know how to satisfy her without saying what I knew she wanted to hear. I wasn’t about to go there.
“Really?” Her eyes raked over my lips as if she were about to devour them again.
“Yes, really. Those kisses are going to burn a hole right through any screen they’re played on. Ok?”
She nibbled on her bottom lip. “I haven’t been too much for you?”
I laughed. “At times, but keep it coming. I can take it.”
“We’ll see about that.” Her eyes gleamed. “We still have one more round.” Her hand slipped back to my neck.
I braced myself for what I was sure would be another stunning Rebecca performance.
“Action!” The set was silent and I looked into her eyes before leaning down to kiss her.
Once Art was satisfied that he had captured every possible angle of our lip lock, he called it quits for the day. I pulled the robe tightly around me and headed back to my trailer. I didn’t care about the clothes that were piled on the floor—those belonged to Julian. I had a pair of boots and jeans in my trailer I couldn’t wait to put on.
The door latched behind me and I slumped on the couch. What a damn long day. I quickly dialed Chelsea. Maybe I could catch her before she fell asleep.
Someone answered, but all I could hear were muffled sounds.
“Chelsea? Is that you? Where are you?”
I realized the muffles were actually sobs.
“Darlin’, what’s wrong? Where are you?” I sat forward on the couch.
“I-I can’t talk about it.”
I breathed. “At least you’re talking. Please tell me what’s going on. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s happening. Just tell me if you’re ok.” I wondered if I needed to hang up and call Bud.
“I’m ok,” she managed to mutter.
“Are you at the ranch? Do you need Bud?”
“I’m at the ranch. I’m fine.” She cleared her throat. “I have to go home tomorrow.”
“Home? North Carolina home?” Nothing made sense right now.
“Ben, it’s terrible. It’s so awful.” I heard the sobs start again.
I looked around the trailer, feeling completely helpless. “Do you need me to come out there?” I had no idea how I could swing something like that. But if this was serious, I would figure it out. I had to be there.
“No! No, I have to go be with my mom. I can’t stay here.”
“You’re scaring the hell out of me right now. Can you just tell me something?”
She sighed into the phone. “Derek called tonight. Everyone knows about my dad’s affair. Everyone, even Mom.”
“Oh, God. That sucks.” She had confided in me during the summer that she knew her father had been having an affair. For the most part, I thought Hayden Davis was a good man. But Chelsea had struggled with the affair and that put Hayden on my cautious list. It hadn’t been easy for her to keep the secret.
“What can I do to help? There has to be something.”
She sniffed a few times before answering. “I know it’s kind of a big favor, but can I borrow the jet? But if it’s too much trouble, I can just get a regular ticket.”
“Hell no, you take the jet. Whatever you need. It’s yours. I just wish I could go with you.” The trailer walls felt like they were closing in on me. I was trapped. The movie had cut off all my flexibility.
“Thank you.”
“I’m sorry I’m not there for you. Maybe I could fly out over the weekend.”
“No, the jet is enough. I know you would be here if you could, but I’m not sure how my mom would react. I haven’t even talked to her yet. She doesn’t know I’m coming.”
“Oh, wow. Do you think it’s the best idea, then? Maybe you should try to call her.”
“She needs me. I know she does. If I call, she’ll tell me to stay here and I can’t do that.”
For the first time since she answered the phone, she sounded like herself—confident and determined.
“All right. You know what she needs better than I do.”
“Thanks.”
There was a long silence, and I didn’t know what else to say. If she were here, I would know exactly what to say and do to make her feel better. But through the phone, my words seemed to fall flat. Maybe the emotion was so depleted from me that I didn’t have anything left to give her tonight. Evangeline had sapped my ability to do any more comforting, and Julian had all the lines.
“I guess I’ll let you get some rest. But you can call me if you need me. You know that, right?”
“I do.”
“All right, pretty girl. Be careful tomorrow and make sure you call me as soon as you get to North Carolina.”
“I will.”
I didn’t want to hang up, but I had to let her go.
“Good night, Chelsea.”
“Good night.”
An eeriness entered the trailer as soon as the phone was silent. As cold as it felt inside the metal walls, I didn’t think I could face the suite alone. I stretched out on the couch. It wouldn’t be the first time I had slept i
n a talent trailer. At least I wouldn’t be late in the morning.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Chelsea
This wasn’t supposed to be how I returned for the first time. There should have been a family dinner with my aunts and grandparents. Everyone gathered around ready to hear stories about Austin. Probably sneak in a few Ben Baldwin questions while they were at it. Yes, that’s how my homecoming was supposed to be. Not this.
I pushed open the kitchen door and walked into my parents’ house.
“Mom? Mom, I’m home.”
The kitchen was immaculate. It was suppertime, a time when my mom would normally be bustling around the kitchen getting dinner ready for my father. Maybe checking on a dessert in the oven, or calling my grandmother to invite her over for dinner.
But the kitchen was dark and the house was quiet.
I parked my suitcase by the table and walked down the hall. “Mom, are you here? Mom?” The only sound was my footsteps echoing off the hardwood floors. I scanned the family pictures hanging on the wall. Maybe she was visiting one of her sisters.
“In here,” a quiet voice answered from the office.
I picked up my pace and rushed into my father’s office. “Mom, are you ok? I got here as quickly as I could.”
She was sitting on the couch, an empty bottle of wine on the coffee table, surrounded by files and papers scattered on the seat and floor.
“Mom, what are you doing?”
“Hi, honey. I didn’t expect you.”
“I know.” I crouched in front of her. “I thought I would come see how you’re doing.” I took the empty wine glass from her hand. “Have you eaten anything today?” Her face was drawn, and I suspected she hadn’t slept in a few days.
“No, I haven’t.”
“Ok, just sit here and I’ll be right back.”
I picked up the empty bottle and glass, and walked back to the kitchen. I grabbed a few pieces of sliced cheese and the butter from the fridge and started the flames on the stove. Within a few minutes, I had a bubbly grilled cheese on a plate.
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