Chapter 9
Zander
Training in West Hollywood is the only part of my daily routine I consider to be enjoyable.
Other than getting to beat the shit out of a boxing bag and learn how to do a lot of my own stunts, it’s the only time I get to spend with someone who dislikes my father even more than I do.
Drew Rowe is pretty much the most authentic person I know. Most stunt guys are. And he’s been my trainer for almost a decade now.
He’s the closest thing to stable I have. If he weren’t so highly regarded and if he weren’t as smart as he is, my father would have stopped the training sessions.
But with a new movie coming up, and me needing to learn from the best, even my father can’t deny Drew is the best man to help me get in shape.
I know I’m going to get shit the second I walk into the studio. Drew’s six foot two, solid muscle, and an ex-marine who quit to spend more time with his family.
In short, Drew is the polar opposite of my father. He’s a family man, and fiercely protective of them.
He also is the only person who said no to my father and came out smelling like roses. It’s one of the reasons I know I can come to him with this.
He’s waiting for me, arms folded, a disapproving look on his tanned face as he waits for an explanation.
I stop a foot away from him and he looks me over. “Thought you were staying clear of the drugs?”
I check around the room. “I am.”
He pulls a ‘don’t give me that shit’ look I’ve seen way too many times. But this time, I’m not lying to him. “I had to take care of something. I needed an excuse.”
His eyebrow rises and a flickering of understanding crosses his face. “You here to train or for something else?”
I nod slowly. “Remember that time you taught me to fall off a wall?”
He scratches his chin stubble. “Yeah?”
I gesture to the pads on the floor. “I need to learn how to fall off something without padding underneath.”
Drew chuckles and shakes his head. “That’s not what I agreed to teach you. I’m supposed to be teaching you to assemble a weapon and to check your technique before filming begins.”
His lips twitch. “Not that you need any help with that.”
A smile tugs at my lips. Of the things I’ve had to do over the years, learning to stunt fight was never as much fun as going a few rounds with Drew for real.
He’s the reason I can win a legitimate street fight, and he’s also the reason Mike and I learned how to fish one summer when my father was in New York.
“Not taking up Parkour, are you?”
I shake my head. “Just need to practice falling somewhere private.”
He gestures around the empty studio. “Sure. We have two hours. Knock yourself out.”
He grins. “Or maybe don’t knock yourself out, eh?”
I take my watch off and switch my phone to silent as he eyes me. “Anything you want to tell me?”
I shake my head. “Less you know the better.”
He eyes me then slowly extends his hand. “It’s about time you stood up to him.”
I grip his hand like it’s a lifeline. And if he can help me pull this off, that’s exactly what it’ll be.
***
Mia
Sally isn’t home when I get in. And I’m glad. I’m tired, irritable, and after a diner decided to grab my ass, I’m considering quitting and looking into getting a personal assistant position after all.
I close the door behind me, kick off my sneakers, and walk barefoot into the kitchen.
I groan at the mess Sally still hasn’t cleaned up. As per usual, she’s left her dishes for me, and normally to avoid conflict, I’d just do them.
But I’m tired, grouchy, and feeling incredibly homesick, so I pick up my cell and dial my mom.
She picks up instantly, and I’m back to being a teenager, just wanting her to make everything better.
With tears burning in my eyes, I try to sound cheerful. “Hey, mom. How're things?”
But she’s not fooled. She never was. “I’m fine, hon. Just watching the news. What’s happened?”
I sit on my unmade bed and stare at one of the multiple cracks in my wall. Sirens are blaring down the road, so I have to jam the receiver against my ear. “Um. I keep losing parts. And I’m not sure I want to keep doing this anymore.”
My mom releases a sigh. “Honey, I know you had a goal, and I’m not saying you should give up on that, but maybe there’s a better way to reach it?”
I blow out a breath and find myself nodding. I wish I could tell her about Zander. About everything he said. About who he is.
“I know you had this idealized version of what it would be like, and I’m sorry it hasn’t lived up to your hopes. But I know you can do this if it’s important to you.”
I start to cry silently. “Thanks. I really wanted to you know…make Grandma proud,” I manage to choke out.
“Oh, honey. Grandma was always proud of you. And she wouldn’t want you to be miserable. Neither do I.”
My face contorts as I struggle to not start sobbing and tell her I want to come home. “I, I think I’m just tired.”
“And things always seem worse when we’re tired. Maybe you need a few days off?”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. I literally just had an impromptu vacation with a man I suspect was right to want to warn me off Hollywood.
“I think you’re right. About finding a better way to reach it. I’m not sure I want to take the path a lot of these…a lot of actors take.”
“I’m glad you’re keeping hold of what’s important to you. I know it’s hard when everyone else is pulling in the wrong direction, but your integrity will win out in the end. I’m sure of it.”
I manage a weak smile at the sentiment and the reminder. “Thanks, mom. I’ll call you when I can.”
I end the call feeling marginally better than when I got home. I toss the phone on my bed and go see if the beer I saved is still in the fridge.
I grab it, and go back into the living room, stepping over sushi containers Sally has just left on the floor.
I slump onto the sofa, beer in hand, and switch on the TV mindless scrolling through the channels as I try to think about what to do next.
I’m not getting any work. My savings are almost gone and I’m living in a dump with a slob with no moral compass.
I could be at home, in a better job, in a nice apartment with soft sheets and living in a safe neighborhood.
Nothing good has happened to me since I came out here. Nothing positive to confirm this is the right career path.
My eyes start to glaze over as picture after picture of beautiful people doing glamorous things flitter past on the screen.
After a while, they all blur into one. Until I see a face that makes me bolt upright.
Zander. Looking incredible. Right here in Hollywood. Leaving a fancy restaurant holding hands with an incredibly glamorous woman.
Adrenaline starts to surge through me as I try to figure out what on earth is going on.
I turn the volume up and catch the reporter as he shoves a microphone in his face. “Zander was the manhunt just a misunderstanding?”
Zander doesn’t say anything but smiles so broadly; I nearly drop my beer at the personality switch. “Let’s just say I needed a little time to recharge.”
Another reporter pushes forward as Zander starts to steer the woman towards a waiting car. “Zander, are you heading back into rehab?”
He just shakes his head, his fingers still laced with the woman as she smiles benignly and lets Zander field all the questions.
“Zander, is this your new girlfriend?”
I hold my breath as Zander’s lip curls into a smile. Just when I think it can’t get any worse, he tugs the woman closer and plants a kiss on her cheek. “I guess you could say Chrissy is the reason I’m going to work again. You can credit her for pulling me out of the hole I was in.”
The reporters all start clamoring over each other as Zander finally manages to get inside the waiting car.
I stare unblinking as the entertainment reporter appears on screen. “Just when we think Zander Cole is down for the count, he’s right back in the ring with a new project on the horizon and sounding very much like a man in love. You heard it first here, child star and Hollywood recluse, Zander Cole is back, and he’s hotter than ever.”
I can’t listen anymore. I switch off the TV and stare at the black screen instead. Anything is preferable to seeing the man who bears no resemblance to the man I spend two days with. The man I was hoping to see in a few days.
A new project? Here? In Hollywood.
After spending so much time trying to convince me to leave, he’s back here dating an actress, and he’s working.
Dating. He’s started dating. Or maybe he was already dating her?
I down my beer and stare at the label thinking about the time we spent in the kitchen, drinking imported beer and wine.
Was it all an act? Was Mark in on it? Jerry?
Would Zander really go that far to revive his career?
I’ve never heard of Zander Cole until a few days ago, but if he hasn’t worked in a long time, and it seems like he’s actively avoided the media, that makes sense.
I scowl at my fingernails as jagged pain starts to prod at my chest.
He said not to trust anyone in Hollywood. And after today and after seeing how quickly he’s reverted back into a life in the limelight, I have to think he may have been including himself.
I refuse to cry over a man who at best blatantly misrepresented himself, and at worst, used me for whatever game he was playing.
Even through my hurt, the stabbing rejection, doubt is growing that he wants to be back.
Because after seeing him stripped bare, mentally, physically, and emotionally, I don’t think Zander fits in here any more than I do.
He might be a better actor than I’ll ever be, but behind the polished smile and rehearsed words, Zander looks just as hunted as the day he dragged himself out of the lake.
I place the beer bottle on the already crowded coffee table and stare at the classified section in the L.A. Times.
I need to decide. Leave with my dignity intact or stay and find a way to find acting work without compromising.
I skim the auditions and chew on the pen as I consider my options. At least I have some.
If Zander returned to the place he despises, I can only imagine it was because he had to.
Which has to mean that whatever he was running from, whether real or imagined, it isn’t going to stop chasing him any time soon.
A question keeps gnawing at me as I start searching the classified for PA positions.
Zander asked me for help when I had no idea who he was.
Now that I’ve seen him, I can’t help but wonder if he needs it even more now.
***
Zander
One week later…
My cheeks ache from keeping the smile plastered on my face. Chrissy is talking with a reporter, drinking champagne and wearing a necklace I’m pretty sure my father gave her.
The room is filled with vapid, shallow people who aren’t interested in talking unless it’s about themselves.
I’ve been asked the same questions over and over again. Out of the hundred and fifty-seven people who approached me like we’re old friends, not one asked me a genuine question.
Amongst the selected media invited to the launch party, lurk overpaid celebrities, studio execs, and occasionally a waiter serving vegan, organic, and tasteless canopies.
Everything about this event has been carefully planned. No detail is too small to be overlooked.
Except me.
I’ve always been the wild card at parties. I was always the one sneaking off to get drunk or stoned. Anything to escape the tedium and sycophants sucking up to my father.
But I can’t escape tonight. I can barely drink, so I wrap my fingers around the champagne glass and try not to scowl as Chrissy makes her way towards me.
In a cloud of perfume that makes me feel nauseous, she speaks loud enough for the reporter closest to hear her. “Zander! There you are.”
I force another smile as the reporter edges forward, lapping it up as Chrissy presses into my side.
My arm slides around her waist as the reporter starts asking us questions about the movie and about our relationship.
I recite my ridiculous lines with as much enthusiasm as I can gather.
I don’t even contemplate ad-libbing anything. I learned that lesson the hard way when I was twelve. “I’m looking forward to working with Chrissy.”
The reporter nods, and not so subtly aims his phone in our direction, recording every word. “And working as a couple won’t be an issue?”
I grind my back teeth together as Chrissy lets out a tinkling artificial laugh that grates on my nerves. “Oh, no! Zander is incredibly professional.”
The reporter laughs, but there is nothing sincere about it. He’s as phony as everyone else in the room, and his questions have been prearranged.
He knows it. We know it, but like the elephant in the room, everyone pretends it’s not there.
I don’t remember the last time a reporter got into one of my father’s parties who weren’t on his payroll.
With the amount of security, I doubt they’d even try.
“And Chrissy, rumor has it you’ve already signed up for another three films?”
This is all about Chrissy now. So, I let her answer and use the opportunity to try to slip away.
If I was still doing drugs, I’d go find someone who was holding, but all the staff are new, and from the cagey way they are interacting with me, they’ve all been briefed about me.
My father is in conversation with an actor, but he spies me as I move to step out. He turns back to his conversation, but his shoulders have stiffened, reminding me I have to be careful.
As far as he’s concerned, I’m as much on his bankroll as the rest of the staff.
If I could, I’d sneak out the door and head down the hallway towards the back of the house and go hide in the kitchen.
It used to be the only place I could hang for a while in peace. When we had the same cook for almost fifteen years. She was more of a mother to me than my own one was. Because of her, I can make a reasonable meal, not that my father allows that now.
Like he always does, he got rid of people I cared about like Grace, the motherly cook, and replaced her with a twice hatted chef who won’t let me cook anything.
I can’t leave, so I just watch the insipid people, smile, nod and recite my lines when I’m supposed to.
I’m bored out of my mind when I see a couple late comers arriving. I recognize the professional party girl Raven instantly.
Dark skinned, elegant, and with no problem screwing anyone of any gender, my father has been instrumental in her rapid rise to fame.
Her eyes lock on to me, and I cringe inwardly. I’m ready to duck out the door when I see a girl beside Raven.
Mia. My Mia. Here.
And dressed in a skin-tight cocktail dress that pushes her breasts up and leaves nothing to the imagination.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. If she’s here with Raven, that means she’s been invited for all the wrong reasons.
And looking the way she does, and the way a lot of the execs are near drooling as she walks past them, she’s in danger of attracting the wrong sort of attention.
I can’t exactly go up to her and tell her she needs to leave, not with the press here, and not with my father watching me like a hawk.
She must know this is my father’s house. There’s no coincidence she’s here. Which means she knows who I am, and she probably knows about Chrissy.
I work my jaw as my father’s eyes light on Mia as she accepts a glass of champagne from a waiter.
He’s too careful to publicly leer at her, but she’s fresh meat. And he has an uncanny ability to spot a fan from a mile off.
If he talks to her before I do, he’ll lay on the charm, likely convince her I’m as nuts as most people think I am, and she’ll end up in his den before the night is over.
My eye starts to twitch as Raven, and another girl lead Mia around, introducing her to people I wish they wouldn’t.
When I can’t stand it anymore, I inch closer, and try to get her attention before someone else does.
I purposely stand where I know she can see me, right next to Raven, who’s flirting with pretty much anyone she can do.
I clear my throat and Mia’s eyes flick in my direction. She stiffens, fingers gripping her glass a little tighter as I jerk my head to indicate for her to follow me.
I sneak a look at my father, but he’s too busy with a Japanese businessman he invited to notice me.
I check Mia is following before I slip out the side door into the hallway. I wait, heart hammering in my chest for her to come out.
I have no idea what I can say to her. God knows this is not the place to explain. Even if I could, what’s more important than anything is getting her the hell out of here before the public party finishes and the real one begins.
I check my watch, wondering what the hell is taking her so long. I know she saw me, a minute or two must have ticked by.
Is she torturing me on purpose? I’m about to go back in when she appears looking incredibly beautiful in the hallway.
I grab her hand and pull her down the hallway as quickly as I can. I can’t afford for anyone to see me with her.
Looking the way she does, and with her arriving with two well know party girls, I need to get her out of here before it’s too late.
I lead her into the conservatory, still trying to figure out how to tell her she needs to go immediately.
The second the door is shut and we’re alone, she jerks out of my grip. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I flinch. “Did you tell anyone about the lake?”
She scoffs and shakes her head. “That’s what you want to know? You damn well lied to me.”
I swallow hard. “I never lied to you.”
She looks angry enough to slap me. “You omitted the truth. That’s the same thing.”
I don’t have time for this. She was late arriving; Chrissy will be leaving soon and so will the press. “And you flat out lied for me. Sometimes it’s necessary.”
Her shoulders slump. “Why were the police looking for you?”
“It was a mix-up. That’s all.”
She nearly growls her reply. “A mix-up?”
I lower my voice. “Mia. I can’t talk right now. I need to know you haven’t told anyone where you saw me.”
She swallows. “I haven’t told anyone. But now I understand why you wanted me to lie for you. You have a girlfriend.”
When I don’t answer, she frowns hard. “Was she your girlfriend when we slept together?”
I straighten my jacket and run my hands over my hair. “It’s complicated.”
Her bottom lip is wobbling but when I hear someone call my name, I know I’m out of time. “You need to go. You see Chrissy leave, you leave too.”
Her mouth opens, but she’s not listening to me. She’s too angry to hear what I have to say.
I grab her by the arms hard enough to make her flinch. “Damn it. Promise me. Promise me you’ll leave right now?”
Her lips quivers and moisture is building in her heavily made-up eyes. “Fine. I’ll tell Sally I want to go.”
When I’m certain she means it, I release her. “Good. And don’t come looking for me again. Got it?”
A single tear spills down her cheek and I have to grind my back teeth together to stay quiet. Better she hates me than she stays.
I walk away from her and don’t look back.
I can’t. I look back at her now. I’ll never find the courage to go through with this.
***
Mia
Tears burn in my eyes as I step back into the hallway. I’m an idiot. I was so wrong about him. He took advantage of me and I let him.
Worse than the humiliation of knowing he used me, is having to face the party, and to tell Raven and Sally I can’t stay.
I dab at my eyes and try to blink away the tears as I hear someone outside in the hallway.
I sniff, hope I look reasonably presentable and hobble on my heels back out into the hallway.
I nearly have a heart attack when Jacob Cole is waiting outside, talking to Raven.
His eyes land on me immediately and a frown brews. I swallow and smile as I try to find a reasonable excuse for being out here. “Um, Mr. Cole. I’m sorry, I was looking for the bathroom…”
Raven snickers and eyes Jacob. “She’s the one I told you about. Fresh off the farm from Iowa.”
I frown, cheeks pinking as Jacob smiles warmly. “I’m from Michigan.”
Jacob chuckles and shakes his head at Raven. “Go get the other one and wait until I speak to Zander. The party is almost done.”
A faint warning signals in my stomach as Raven smiles knowingly in my direction. “Is he joining us? Mia has a little crush on him.”
I suck in a breath ready to deny it, but Jacob only smiles gently. “I’m afraid he’s spoken for.”
His eyes run the length of me, and all traces of the fatherly warmth disappear. “If you do well, I’m sure he’d be happy to show you the house later on.”
I swallow. That’s the last thing Zander would be happy about. “Um. That’s okay. I should probably get back to the party.”
I ease away as Jacob just smiles and heads in the opposite direction.
Raven snorts. “Come with me. We’ll go get Sally so we can get ready. Jacob wants to audition us. Together.”
My breath seems to be frozen in my lungs as Raven takes my hand and tugs me towards the massive ballroom.
I wait until Jacob is out of earshot before I jerk my hand from hers and frown at her. “Audition?”
She shrugs. “Oh yeah. They’ll be a few other directors there too. Maybe a producer.”
We enter the ballroom and I’m surprised to see people are leaving. I knew we were a little late, but Raven insisted, and Sally told me we were just fashionably late.
Raven snickers as she points in the direction of Sally, currently flirting wildly with an Asian man in a suit. “He’s an investor. Jacob wants us to treat him real nice.”
Us?
My eyes pop as Raven leans closer to whisper in my ear. “Want some coke? It’ll help, trust me.”
Nausea is starting to rise in my stomach. Just when I think I can’t feel any worse, I see Zander and Chrissy standing close, looking glamorous together.
A photographer is hovering around, and in one moment of clarification, Zander catches me looking, frowns in my direction then kisses her as the photographer snaps a few shots.
My throat is growing thicker, so my voice comes out raw. “I think I want to go home.”
Raven shakes her head. “You can’t leave now. The real party hasn’t even started. And it’s so worth your while to stay. This is like networking on steroids.”
I gape at her, blinking back tears as I see a few of the photographers and journalists shaking hands and looking ready to leave.
My mouth is so dry I grab a glass of champagne and down it in one. I take a look in Zander’s direction. He looks every part the movie star dressed in his tux.
Raven clucks her tongue. “I know. He’s gorgeous, right. You play your cards right; Jacob might introduce you.”
I can barely think about how horrific that would be now that I know Zander is nothing but a lying cheat.
I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I appreciate the invite, but I’m not feeling—”
Raven whips her head around and her face sets like stone. “You are not leaving yet. I promised the three of us. Get it. Three. You leave, you make me look bad.”
I step back, ice trickling through my body as she glares at me and drops her voice. “You’re a nobody. The sooner you understand that this is how things work the easier it’ll be. I’m trying to help you.”
I look around the room for Sally but instead see Zander helping Chrissy put her coat on.
His eyes find mine and for the tiniest of moments I think I see blind panic in his brown eyes. But before I can blink, he’s back to the smooth and slick star I’ve grown to hate.
My stomach twists into knots. Maybe I should stay? Maybe I should get drunk and ask Jacob to introduce us? Then I could tell everyone about the dirty little secret he’s trying to keep hidden?
Anger spills through me as Zander stands beside his father, shaking hands and smiling.
Half the guests have gone, and the ballroom is emptying in a steady stream. Sally wobbles towards us, eyes glazed, and a smile plastered to her face. “You tell Mia what she needs to do?”
Raven huffs out a breath. “I was getting to it.”
At the lewd grin Sally gives me, anxiety starts to spread like wildfire. “Ever made out with a girl?”
Raven chuckles as my cheeks turn crimson. “Cause she hasn’t. That’s why she’s here remember? They wanted a party virgin, we found one.”
They both smirk at me until I know I’ve been set up. I’m not sure if I’m angry, or disgusted or both. But with the last of the guests leaving, I’m beyond caring.
I reach down and yank my heels off and glare at them both. I hitch my dress and push through the crowd until I’m running past Zander and his lecherous father.
I’m almost blinded by tears when I stumble down the steps like Cinderella leaving the ball before midnight.
This has gone so much worse than I ever imagined. Zander is a cheating prick. His father is worse and the girls who brought me here did so because they think I’m as much of a slut as they are.
I’ve just about given up on anyone being authentic when I see a PA who’s a regular at the diner.
I don’t think I can take anymore but when Toby spies me and raises a hand in greeting, I force back more tears and manage a watery-eyed smile at him. “Hi, Toby.”
He grins and takes a drag of his cigarette. “Wow. You scrub up nice.”
I smile and try to keep my emotions in check. “Are you here for your boss?”
He nods, a frown on his face. “Yeah. She needed a script so I dropped it off. I was hanging around catching up on gossip. I’m about to go. I can give you a lift?”
Relief fills me as I give him a nod. At least the extremely gay Toby isn’t any kind of a threat. “Thanks. It’s been a rough night.”
He nods slowly and gestures to the street. “I’m a few blocks away. You okay to walk in those heels?”
I manage a smile. “I’ll be fine.”
He looks over his shoulder as he gets his keys out. “You don’t look fine.”
I’m not sure I could explain ever if I wanted to. So, even though I don’t want to know, I need to distract myself. “What’s the latest gossip?” I ask him.
“Just the stuff about Zander coming home from his latest bender.”
I swallow past the lump growing in my throat. “Oh.”
Toby checks his phone before he carries on talking. “Yeah. You know, how Zander hasn’t been at any of his dad’s parties for a while.”
Despite myself, I frown as I look sidelong at him. “He hasn’t?”
Toby nods and slides his phone into his pocket. “He wasn’t allowed to. He was embarrassing his father. He used to get wasted and do crazy shit. Think his father ended up getting him into therapy and rehab. All that usual stuff. Him being here tonight was like I dunno…a second chance.”
I glance back at the mansion Zander lives in with his father. My stomach knots as I force away the pointless tears brewing.
I don’t know Toby well but he’s possibly the only person who can answer some of the questions I have.
“Maybe the relationship with Chrissy Lynn helped him calm down? Like he said?”
Toby scoffs. “Yeah, sure. Highly convenient he got his shit together and managed to hook up with a woman who ‘saved’ him. Pretty much the plot of the new movie his father is currently launching.”
I frown at him. I’ve been so busy I had no idea that was the premise of the upcoming movie. “You don’t think it’s genuine?”
That kiss looked pretty damn genuine to me.
He shrugs. “This is Hollywood. Everything is about the money. Pure and simple. And promances happen all the time.”
I stop walking, eyebrows rising as I try to understand what he’s saying. “A what?”
“Promance. You know? Where two celebrities hook up just to promote a movie or something.”
My hands are starting to shake, and my head is starting to spin as Toby frowns. “In Hollywood it’s all an illusion. Smoke and mirrors. There’s a chance it’s the real deal, but there’s also a good chance it’s fake.”
Fake. Is that what was complicated? Then why did he have to be such a jerk about it?
I’m reaching overload, and my disillusionment is almost at capacity when Toby heaps even more doubt on.
“It was always a little weird Zander disappeared right before he was going on a talk show with his father.”
I suck in a breath. “You think his disappearance was faked too?”
Toby shrugs. “It’s too much of a coincidence. He’s stayed out of the spotlight for a few years now. He’s done the rehab thing, the bad boy thing, the rebel. But he’s not acted since he was a kid. He needed something big. His father needed it too. His last few movies tanked.”
I don’t even want to think about Jacob Cole after meeting him.
I shake my head. “So, actors are happy to do this? To lie about being in a relationship?”
Toby snorts a laugh. “Of course, they are. Chrissy Lynn was a nobody until a month ago. Suddenly she’s everywhere. It’s how things work. How they’ve always worked.”
I breathe out a long sigh, not sure what to believe when Toby chuckles softly.
“Yeah. I’ve been there. You get here filled with all these romantic ideas about the glitz and glam. You think actors have it made. But they’re really just puppets. Someone is always behind the curtains, pulling their strings.”
Strings. Like Zander said at the lake.
It’s not hard to see why Zander has turned out to be the way he is.
But after tonight, after witnessing what a complete and utter jerk Zander really is, and the types of parties his father throws, I no longer want any part of it.
I sigh heavily. “Take me home, please. I’m done.”












