Page 14 of Faking the Pass
“No. It was just me and my mom,” I said. “She passed away earlier this year.”
It was starting to hit me how alone I was here, on the opposite coast from my own home.
“I guess I should go get my bags from the hotel bellman and head to the airport. I already checked out of my room.”
Wilder grimaced. “I wouldn’t recommend it. This tasty bit of celebrity gossip is minutes if not seconds from getting out. As soon as the story leaks, your hotel will be surrounded. The airports too. What about a friend’s house? Anywhere you could crash till the feeding frenzy dies down?”
I shrugged, feeling rather hopeless and noticing tears welling up again.
“I don’t really have any local friends anymore,” I said. “Not ones I could stay with anyway. I never came back here after I graduated.”
Not that I hadn’t wanted to—I’d loved Eastport Bay. But for the longest time I hadn’t had the money to travel cross-country. Every dime I’d made went to support my mom and me.
Then she’d gotten sick, and there had been a lot of medical expenses and debt.
“I’ve completely lost touch with anyone here who ever cared about me or who’d even remember me,” I told Wilder.
“My family remembers you,” he said warmly.
“Thanks. You’re kind,” I said, furiously blinking back tears.
For some reason, those words posed more danger to my tear ducts than any of the nasty things Randy had said to me.
“Anyway, I’d be ashamed to see anyone who knows me right now,” I said. “I feel like such a fool. I just want to hide.”
“You’re not at fault here. That guy’s a dickwad,” Wilder said.
“Yeah, but I’m the one who fell for that dickwad. And trusted him.”
Wilder gave me a sympathetic look. “I’d invite you to come stay with my wife Jess and me—Jessica Bailey—remember her?”
I nodded. Everyone knew who Jessica Bailey was. She’d left school early for a role on a children’s TV program then laterlaunched a massively successful music career under the stage name Jade.
In a town that boasted quite a few famous residents, she was perhaps the most famous.
“Anyway, I know she’d love to have you normally, but we have a two-year-old,” Wilder explained, “and I try my best to protect them both from scenes like the one outside.”
He hooked a thumb in the direction of the street. “If word got out that you were staying with us, those buzzards would descend on my family and maybe get some shots of the baby. Plus Jess is dealing with some pretty severe morning sickness these days. We haven’t announced that one yet.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of imposing,” I assured him. “Or of siccing those rabid dogs out there on your family’s home. Congratulations, by the way. On the baby and the one on the way. You’ve built a pretty amazing life for yourself.”
“Thanks. I think so.”
He smiled widely, in a genuine way that reached his eyes. The way they lit up and crinkled at the edges reminded me so much of his brother, I couldn’t stop myself from asking.
“How’s Presley doing?”
“Pretty good,” Wilder said. “He’s had a stellar football career so far. He got injured during the season opener last week though, and he’s pretty down about it. It’s killing him that he can’t play today. Football’s his life.”
Wilder’s forehead furrowed, betraying concern for his younger brother.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. “I hope he recovers quickly.”
He nodded, his expression grim. “We all do. This kind of injury can be slow to heal and hard to come back from. But enough about my family—we’ve got to getyousorted.”
For the next few moments he thought out loud.
“The tabloids and entertainment shows have got all the estate gates staked out. Even in a car with blacked out windows, you’d definitely be followed.”
