Page 2 of The Kissing Part
“What about our meeting?” Mackenzie asks.
I jog downstairs and take the door to the parking lot in back.
Mom’s been taking more chances with public outings than I’d like. She used to be much more careful. She claims she’s stalker-free, but you never know when a new one will pop up. Her old movies play regularly on TV. She’s doing more behind-the-camera work now. Still. Just recently she played the MILF next door in a limited series on one of the streamers. I know. It’s mymom. She’s the one who called it the MILF next door.
Her appeal puts her at risk, and that’s where I come in. Bodyguard Frank taught me everything I know about krav maga—street fighting—as well as weapons work with knives, rope, and guns. I don’t carry weapons, but I like knowing how to use them. I could take them away from an opponent if needed. Harper and my brother, Rafael, could’ve learned self-defense too, but they had no interest. We’ve been the target of paparazzi since birth. As the oldest, I looked out for them.
I get into my black Mustang and peel out of the lot. Frankie should be with her. She’s fine. It’s probably nothing. Then why did she say right away?
I turn onto Main Street, take the first right onto Route 15, and floor it.
* * *
Shayla
I peer between the books on the shelf to whisper, “It’s a silent night.”
A red-haired woman looks back at me. “Good night for a hunt.” She slips me a leather-bound book, but when I reach for it, she doesn’t let go. “You have until midnight.”
I nod and take the book, browsing other books for a few moments before slipping away. When I walk into the open area of the library, she’s gone.
“Cut,” the director, Levi Appleton, says. “Shayla, perfect amount of tension. Josie, let’s try it again with the alternate version of your line.”
Not hard to be tense when you’re about to see the only man you’ve ever loved for the first time in nine years. At least I hope so. His mom, Claire, asked him to come here ASAP. She didn’t say it was on my behalf. He might not have come.
My costar, Josie Abbott, flashes a bright smile and says the alternate line, “Brady isn’t what he seems. Clock’s ticking. Midnight.”
I go back into position behind the shelf. We’re in the second-floor loft area of the Summerdale library in a pretty country area of New York. Tomorrow we move to New York City for the final six weeks of filming.
I’ve been a working actor since I was seven years old. Once I finally shed the child-star persona by playing an angsty heroine in a dark fantasy, the majority of my roles were in the same vein. This role is different. I get to be the hero in a military action romance based on Audrey Robinson’s bookBreakdown. I’m part of a secret unit called into action to work with a handsome civilian who may have ties to organized crime. For once I get to be a stoic badass instead of bawling my eyes out.
We run through the scene a second time and wait for Levi’s reaction.
“Cut!” he says cheerfully. “That’s a wrap for the scene. Good work, everyone. Let’s pack up.”
The crew starts to pack away equipment, and the actors make their way to the main level, where the author and her family are watching. I hold back, looking for Owen. When I last saw him, he was seventeen, wiry with muscle and athletic. Claire has kept me updated with family pictures over the years. He has a dark beard now that suits him, and he’s filled out in the shoulders and chest, all of him muscular looking.
Claire walks over and gives me a reassuring smile. “Good work today. How’re you feeling?” The tension in my shoulders drops. She’s like a mom to me. My own toxic mom, who was also my manager, nearly broke me. I became an emancipated minor at sixteen, dove into the Hollywood party scene, and started making headlines for all the wrong reasons. Claire had worked with me when I was eight years old, saw what was going on, and invited me to come live with her family in Connecticut for the summer.
She helped me put my life back together, taught me how to navigate the industry as an adult, how to handle being put on a pedestal by the press and the public, and also how to handle being knocked off that pedestal with grace. In short, she taught me to be grounded. My work is not me. I’m a worthy person in my own right with many varied interests, like interior design, knitting, and her son. Yeah. I never got over Owen.
We fell in love, and everything wasperfect. Until it wasn’t.
“I’m nervous,” I admit. “What if he doesn’t want to see me?”
She smooths my blond hair back and kisses my temple. “He has a protective streak a mile wide. The minute he hears about your stalker, he’s going to check in with you.”
Yup, that’s right. I’m officially an A-list star. I’ve got a stalker. His name is Matt Boone, thirty, divorced, and obsessed with my former role as a runaway teen who turns to prostitution to survive. I used to have a bodyguard, but I couldn’t relax around him. Was it the fact that he never took his sunglasses off? I don’t know. There was a vibe that never sat right with me, so when he quit for another gig, I was relieved. And then I thought of Owen, hoping it was an opportunity to see if there was anything there between us after all these years. He runs a security firm.
Will he still be interested in me now that I’m a successful actor? I hope he’d be proud of what I’ve made of myself. On the other hand, it was show business that took me away from him in the first place. A choice I made that I’ve had to live with. I don’t regret choosing to leave Connecticut for my big-break movie, but I often wondered over the years, what if I’d stayed? Would we still be together today?
I blow out a shaky breath. Maybe he’s moved on and forgotten all about me. This may not have been my best plan. Rejection after all my hopeful buildup over the years would be devastating. I always thought the reason no relationship worked out for me after Owen was because I was meant to be with him. It was just a matter of timing.
I’m in a good place now. If he—okay, cool it. I need to bring my expectations down. If I can make amends for the past, and we become friendly again, I’m calling it a win. Anything more is a bonus.
Please let him be happy to see me.
Anyway, I do have a temporary bodyguard to keep me safe. Since I’ve been filming in New York, Claire’s bodyguard, Frankie, has been working double duty for the two of us.
