Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
He snorted. “I don’t leave loose ends. You should know that by now.”
“I do.” I regarded him thoughtfully and continued. “It makes sense in business, but I don’t know if it makes sense in real life.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Just…thinking out loud. I should get back in there. I need to be amazing.”
Seb stepped into my space, his brows furrowed with concern.
“You look like a rock star out there. Hal praised you after one fucking take. You know how rare that is. You know you’re amazing. You don’t need anyone to tell you that.” He frowned. “Or do you? What do you need?”
I patted his shoulder and walked away without responding.
But it was a good question.
What did I need?
Need versus want—I’d never really been able to decipher between the two. I’d wanted my freedom when I was younger and enough cash to buy groceries and pay my rent. Then I’d wanted a juicy role or two, money in the bank, and a house of my own. When I finally hit it big, I’d wanted my family to know I’d made something of my life.
I’d ticked every column off on my wish list, and it wasn’t enough.
So I rewrote the list. I made it bigger, better, more outrageous and outlandish. I didn’t just want to be an actor, I wanted to be a legendary celebrity. I wanted to make history. I didn’t just want a house, I wanted a fortress. I didn’t just want my family to know I was successful, I wanted for at least one of them to be proud.
And now…
I wanted to make it all go away.
The houses, the cars, the bodyguards. I didn’t want to be part of a machine that paid off creeps like my brother and flaunted good deeds for publicity.
I wanted to erase the bad memories and the ugly chapters from my past. I didn’t want to think about my mother and all the things we left unsaid. Had I done enough? Had I proved myself worthy? Did she love me? Was she proud of me? Did it matter?
All I wanted was Lo.
He said he loved me.
Me.
In spite of the chaos and the uncertainty, he loved me.
I thought of that morning at the beach in Carmel, sitting on a bench, sipping lattes and conjuring impossible dreams about a simple life. I had no idea what that meant anymore. A house, a vegetable garden, a quiet night watching TV or playing games you knew you sucked at, but it made him laugh, so you played them anyway.
I could buy him a castle, a store, clothes, jewelry, housekeepers, chauffeurs…but I couldn’t protect him from the monster I’d helped create.
Did I love him? Oh, God, yes.
I admired his strength, worshipped his body, his heart, and his mind. And I loved him enough to know he deserved better than me.
What I needed most was the one thing I could never have.
The private jet idled on the tarmac, a white tin can against an indigo sky. I kicked my duffel between my legs and scrolled messages on my cell.
“Coffee?”
I glanced sideways and frowned. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m going to Toronto,” Daphne replied, raising her to-go cup in a toast. “The director has a bit part for me, and Seb told me I might as well come out early.”
“Did he, now?” I turned my baseball cap backward and huffed an incredulous laugh. “So…you’re in a Baxter movie. And let me guess, we’re supposed to be an item?”
“You know how it goes,” she singsonged. “Don’t worry. I won’t get in your way. We’re just helping each other out.”
“Except I don’t have much to gain by pretending to like you, Daph.”
“Your reputation,” she countered smugly. “I clean up your messes, and the fans love us. They really aren’t into the gay thing. No offense. It’s just…true.”
“Right.” I picked up my duffel bag and hiked it over my shoulder. “Hey, good luck in Toronto, Daph.”
“Where are you going?”
I didn’t turn around.
I made a beeline to where Seb was standing near the gate.
He greeted me with a tired smile. “Too damn early, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, Seb. Too damn early. In fact, I’m going home. I just wanted to tell you to fuck off first. I quit,” I growled.
I stormed out of the waiting area with my boss hot on my heels.
“Whoa! What the hell is wrong now?”
I whirled on him, teeth gritted and fist clenched. “You heard me. Find someone else to sell your films and fill your fucking bank account. I’m done.”
“Hey!” He followed me outside, balking when I headed for the taxi queue. “You can’t get in a fucking cab!”
I got in the fucking cab and of course, he slid in beside me. I gave the bewildered driver my address and glared at Seb. “You should go.”
“You’re pissed about Daphne,” he guessed, fastening his seat belt before leaning forward to ask the driver to turn up his music.