Beautiful Lie 4m386h

Beautiful Lie

Dirty Hollywood: Book Three

Claire Raye

Copyright © 2020 by Claire Raye All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage the piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your and respect is appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarities to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Cover Design by Sarah Hansen of Okay Creations

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Chapter One Sadie Chapter Two Paul Chapter Three Sadie Chapter Four Paul Chapter Five Sadie Chapter Six Paul Chapter Seven Sadie Chapter Eight Paul Chapter Nine Sadie Chapter Ten Paul

Chapter Eleven Sadie Chapter Twelve Paul Chapter Thirteen Sadie Chapter Fourteen Paul Chapter Fifteen Sadie Chapter Sixteen Paul Chapter Seventeen Sadie Chapter Eighteen Paul Chapter Nineteen Sadie Chapter Twenty Paul Chapter Twenty-One

Sadie Chapter Twenty-Two Paul Chapter Twenty-Three Sadie Chapter Twenty-Four Paul Chapter Twenty-Five Sadie Chapter Twenty-Six Paul Chapter Twenty-Seven Sadie Chapter Twenty-Eight Paul Chapter Twenty-Nine Sadie Chapter Thirty Paul Chapter Thirty-One Sadie

Chapter Thirty-Two Paul Chapter Thirty-Three Sadie Chapter Thirty-Four Paul Chapter Thirty- Five Sadie Chapter Thirty-Six Paul Chapter Thirty-Seven Sadie Epilogue Nine months later Paul What’s Next? Your free books are waiting! Books by Claire Raye About the Author Acknowledgements

Chapter One

Sadie

“Fuck you!” His rant has been going on for the last twenty minutes and somehow, it’s all my fault. It was my fault that our recent movie together tanked because I didn’t step in and stop him from calling our lead a cunt. I was to blame when she bailed on her contract and halted production, because I should’ve been the one to defuse the situation. I continued to make things worse when I ignored requests for comments on tabloid stories about his volatile behavior. I can’t get away. Marrying Noel Robinson was the biggest mistake of my life. This latest argument started when Noel got word that a script I had written was picked up by Clapboard Films, a big-name production studio, and instead of bringing him on as the director, they’ve asked me to take on the role. It will be my directorial debut; the first time my name will take top billing as the director. No co-director, no waiting on the sidelines to be recognized. Something you’d think he’d be celebrating with me. But instead he’s nursing his wounded ego by hurling insults at me. It wasn’t always like this. We met at an international film festival. I was nineteen years old and riding the high of winning a best screenplay award, an American coming-of-age dark teen romance, that would become my signature. Not only was I being recognized for my talents, but I was also now on Noel Robinson’s radar, and in this industry that was better than winning the lottery. He was interested in working with me, which was how he drew me in, but it

didn’t stop there. Within two years we had co-written and directed two awardwinning films together and all of this turned into a whirlwind courtship, and a quickie marriage. It seemed like the next logical step. We were Hollywood elite, a power couple and a name that was synonymous with success. Or at least that’s what I thought. I was young and naïve and when he proposed I didn’t give it a second thought. I thought about my career and what not marrying him meant for it. It meant we were a package deal and that our names were forever linked, but I had no idea how deep manipulation runs. And here I am ten years later with a flourishing career and the only thing tarnishing it is my husband. He’s as dirty as they come. I’ve stopped listening as his expletive rant continues, because the more I listen the more I start to believe him. “You’re nothing without me. You know that,” he spits out and his words cut like a dagger, deep and wounding. I’ve heard them before, and along with them I hear the voice inside my head telling me everything he says is true. This industry is fickle and I can go from a name that’s on everyone’s lips to a name that causes doors to slam in my face. “I’m nothing with you too,” I shoot back, my voice calm, despite the thoughts that invade my mind. “You know I’ll come back from this. I always do, and you’ll be on your knees begging me to take you back.” “In order for that to happen it would mean you’d have to sign the fucking divorce papers.” He laughs, but it’s humorless. This is the fourth time I’ve filed for divorce, at least the hundredth time I’ve tried to leave and the millionth time he’s reminded me that he created my career. This business is about connections and those connections are always bigger than your name or your work or the awards you’ve won. But today I watched my reputation precede me, and a part of me thinks I can make it without him.

“I can ruin you with just one word, Sadie.” Every word he uses against me is calculated, manipulated to the best of his ability, and because he’s hurt and angry, he’ll continue to hit hard. “Hollywood doesn’t want women like you.” he sneers, looking me up and down. “You’re old now. Washed up. They think I’m the difficult one, but it’s the ten years I’ve spent with you that have made me the way I am.” “What do you think these ten years have done to me? The only thing people think of when they hear my name is you. You trashing movie sets, you calling actresses vulgar names, and your reputation for…” I stop short of saying it because saying it out loud means I’m itting to knowing what he does. “My name is what keeps you working and what we have, Sadie, is a business relationship. You dissolve this marriage and you dissolve any chance of you ever fucking working again.” He shrugs his shoulders as if it’s that simple. It’s always been this way though, and it’s the reason I back down. It’s the reason we never go through with the divorce. But this time, I’m standing firm. I want out and I don’t care if it takes my career with it. “I don’t fucking care, Noel. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be a part of the continuous cycle of you losing your shit and then your fake self-deprecating apologies that for some reason everyone just accepts willingly.” Again he laughs, this time his head falls back dramatically. He’s mocking me and it’s taking everything in me not to punch him in the face. “They accept it because I make them billions of dollars. What people won’t do for the all-mighty dollar and there will always be some desperate actor begging for their big break.” “Well, I’m done accepting it,” I insist, my words firm, my stance solid. “My lawyer is going through with the divorce this time. You have thirty days to respond.” I let out a harsh exhale, impressed with myself for pushing through to this point. “And I’m leaving London. I start filming in Los Angeles next week.” I begin to walk out of the room, the stunning view from our eight million dollar apartment that looks out on the London Bridge stopping me for a split second. And in that second it gives Noel enough time to process what I’ve just said to

him. His mind working to realize that despite all the confidence he has in himself, I’m the one thing that keeps him grounded. He reaches for me, his hand tightening around my wrist and pulling him back toward him. I crash against his chest, my eyes instinctively looking up at him as I feel my anger build inside me. He’s as beautiful as the day we met and I hate myself for thinking it. I was drawn to the silence of his features, his quiet eyes that give nothing away, everything about him a muted pale gray: his hair, his suit, his eyes. But today as I take him in, the slight lines etched around his eyes, the soulfulness of his worried mouth, a face of sorrow I have never seen before; it’s the face of a man who is about to lose everything. And for a moment he has me fooled. His mouth drops to my ear, his breath warm against my skin. I feel his lips graze my neck and goose bumps dot my sensitive skin, but inside my body burns hot. “Don’t leave, Sadie,” he whispers in my ear, his hand slipping under my sweater and his fingers tracing the lace cup of my bra as he slowly kisses my neck. “I can’t do this without you.” Everything he says, everything he does is calculated and intentional, and it stings. I’ve heard these words before, I’ve felt this touch and I’ve caved to it. I stay because I’m weak, but I also stay because I fear what will be said about me, how people in this industry will react. Noel and I created this persona of the American dream, a power couple, and to the public we have it all. But behind closed doors, I live in a cycle of abuse and right now it’s about to hit an upswing. “Please, Sadie,” he begs, as the tears pool hot in my eyes, the bile ri in my throat. “We’re better together. I promise…” I shove him away, his fingers scraping my skin as his hand comes loose from under my sweater. “You promise to what? To ruin my career? To make me think I’m worthless? To manipulate me? You’ve done all those things and more.”

“No,” he whimpers. “I promise things will be different.” The faux desperation is dripping from his words like a slow leak and I have to stop it. “Seriously, Sadie. At one time we were good, ?” But this time it’s me laughing and wondering how he fooled me all these years and how I could’ve even fallen prey to his manipulation. His words all sound so forced and everything in me knows they mean nothing. “No, I don’t . Don’t romanticize our relationship to subdue the guilt you have. I’m leaving and I’m taking the job with Clapboard.” “Do it on your own.” He has no inflection in his voice; his words are cold and his stare even colder. “I won’t dust your knees off when you come crawling back.” The conversation ends the same way it began, but this time they’re my words. “Fuck you.”

Chapter Two

Paul

“How long will you be gone this time?” I glance up, my gaze meeting Helena’s. “Three months,” I reply, but it’s said like a question, because in truth I don’t know how long I’ll be. Shooting always runs over schedule and this will be no different, maybe more so because it’s a brand new director doing her first feature film. She’s gonna want to get everything perfect, which means endless retakes and conversations about how things look, how they translate to the screen, what each of the actors think. And while I’m only a stuntman and not even required for a lot of the on-set interior scenes, we’re often called to stand-in for the star, no one really giving a shit if we spend hours on a mark just so they can sort angles and lighting. I don’t complain too much, at least this way I get three months’ worth of work instead of just a couple of weeks. “Three months,” Helena repeats and I can hear the frustration in her voice, can see it written all over her face. “Babe,” I say, walking over and placing my hands on her shoulders. “What do you want me to do?” I ask. “I have to work, you know that.” “But why is it always so far away,” she asks, pouting a little. “Why can’t you ever just work here?” I drop my hands, turning back to my bags as I attempt to pack. I’ve spent the past week staying with Helena, and although I brought everything I thought I’d need for this trip, I’m hoping I haven’t left anything behind at my place.

“You know why,” I say, as I throw in my phone charger. “But can’t you just do something else.” I stop, feel my body stiffen as I turn to face her. We’ve had this conversation before, many times, but it doesn’t matter how many times I explain it to her, she either doesn’t get it or doesn’t want to. “Like what?” Helena offers me a smile, as though to soften what she’s about to say as she steps toward me. “I don’t know,” she starts, slipping her arms around my waist. “Personal trainer? P.E. teacher? Banker?” I roll my eyes. “That’s a new one,” I say with a touch of sarcasm as I reach for my wallet and keys. Every time she brings this up, she tells me to consider a career change to personal trainer or teacher. For some reason she seems to think my martial arts training and background in personal fitness make me an ideal candidate for these jobs. Maybe they do, who knows. I don’t ever bother to look into it because neither of them are something I want to do. I like my job, always have, even if I’m never considered the star of a film or receive any real recognition of what I contribute to it. It’s enough just to see it all come to life on the big screen. To see my name buried among the hundreds of others in the credits at the end. “Maybe a change would do you good?” she says, shrugging. “Maybe you’d like working in an office every day.” I stop and take a deep breath, which I let out slowly. Turning to face her, I cross my arms over my chest. “What do you mean, ‘do me good?’” I ask. “Well you’d be around more often,” she says, stepping closer. “And we’d get to see each other every day, have a normal life. Maybe even think about moving in together.”

I stare at Helena, unsure what part of what she’s saying to me has me the most pissed off. She looks back at me, a look of hope in her eyes as though she actually thinks I’m considering this. “I don’t want to work in an office,” I eventually say, the words coming out slowly as though I’m trying to make her understand what I’m saying. “You know this, Helena and if you truly cared about me, you’d understand it too.” “Yeah I know, but…” “But nothing,” I say, cutting her off. “I actually love what I do,” I continue. “And I know it’s not glamorous and probably doesn’t fit into your idea of what we should look like, but it’s what I like to do.” “Paul,” she says, her smile faltering as she reaches for my arm. “You know I didn’t mean it like that, I was only…” “You were only saying the same thing you say every time I leave for a movie set,” I say, finishing off her sentence. “I, I just miss you when you’re gone,” she says, her fingers curling around my arm. “And I miss you,” I tell her. “But I know your job and staying in Vancouver is important to you, so I accept there are times when we’re forced to be apart. Why can’t you do this for me too?” Helena stares back at me, her fingers digging into my arm as she swallows hard. Her eyes search my face, while my heart pounds in my chest. An air of uncertainty hangs between us now that’s never been there before. “Is this not working for you anymore?” I eventually ask, my words low. She licks her lips, blinking once. She opens her mouth to speak, but at first nothing comes out and it should be a sign. It should tell me everything I need to know. “Of course it is,” she finally whispers. “I love you. You know that.” I exhale, wondering exactly how true her words are, and why it looks so hard for

her to say them to me. But I don’t ask, instead pulling her into my arms as I rest my chin on the top of her head. “I really have to go, Helena,” I say, pressing a kiss to her hair before pulling back. “Can we talk about this later? Maybe when one of us visits and we have more time? I promise I want to get this sorted out.” She nods, her hazel eyes staring up at me. I smile, leaning in to kiss her softly on the lips. “I love you, babe,” I tell her. “I’ll call you when I land.”

I’m two blocks from her apartment when I realize I’ve left my damn port behind. “Fuck,” I mutter before leaning forward and saying, “Hey, can you turn around, I’ve got to go back.” The cab driver shoots me a quick look, his brows raised in question. “Forgot my port,” I reply, rolling my eyes. He smiles. “No worries, what time’s your flight?” I glance at my watch. “Two and half hours,” I say, mentally calculating if that’s enough time. The taxi driver nods but says nothing as he cuts across two lanes before making a hard turn into oncoming traffic and heading back in the direction we just came in a move that’s reminiscent of when I was stunt driving on Fast and Furious. Fifteen minutes later, we’re pulling up outside Helena’s apartment. “I’ll be quick,” I shout as I’m halfway out the door. “Keep it running.” The driver laughs, even as he stays illegally parked outside her building. I rush inside, nodding to her doorman as I race toward the elevator. Another guy is standing there waiting, his eyes on the numbers above the doors

as they count down to the lobby. When the doors finally open, two old ladies walk out before me and the other guy both walk inside. He jams his finger on ten before turning to me and asking, “Which floor?” “Same,” I reply, smiling. The elevator moves silently up to Helena’s floor and when the doors open, me and the other guy both step out, turning and heading down the long corridor toward Helena’s apartment right at the end. As he stops in front of her door, he shoots me a sideways glance before asking, “10F?” “Uh huh,” I nod. “You too?” “Yep,” he replies, narrowing his brow as he raises his hand to knock. Inside my chest, my heart is suddenly going double time, tapping out a loud rhythm against my ribcage as I try to figure out who the hell this guy is and why he’d be showing up at Helena’s apartment at six o’clock in the evening. Try to ignore the answer that’s screaming at me inside my head. When the door opens though, revealing a half-naked Helena standing there, dressed in nothing but the sexy black lingerie I bought her from a gig I had in Paris last year, all of my questions are answered. “Fuck’s sake,” I mutter as I push past both of them, walking into her apartment to find my port sitting on the side table right where I left it. Without even looking at her, I snatch it up, shoving it in the back pocket of my jeans before quickly glancing around to see what else I might still have here. When I turn around, Helena and this guy stand exactly as I left them. She’s looking at me with an expression that suggests she wishes the ground would open up and swallow her whole. He on the other hand is looking at me as though he knows exactly who I am and is glad I’ve walked into this fucked up mess. “You can pack up the rest of my things and leave them with the front desk,” I say, not bothering to look at her as I walk past. “I’ll send my sister over to get them tomorrow.”

I grab the keys from my pocket, sliding her apartment key off my keyring and throwing it over my shoulder, where it hits the hardwood floor with a clang. “Paul, wait,” she says, reaching for me. I feel her hand as it curls around my arm, her grip stronger than I expect. Swallowing hard, I force myself to look back at her, my eyes meeting hers. “Miss me when I’m gone, huh?” I say, the words harsh in the silence of her apartment. “Paul, please,” she says, her fingers tightening. I laugh, but it’s without humor. “Forget it, Helena,” I say, glancing at this mystery guy who’s still standing in her doorway, as though he’s waiting to see how this all plays out. “She’s all yours,” I spit at him before pushing past both of them and walking outside to get my taxi to the airport.

Chapter Three

Sadie

Relief washed over at me as I watched the lights of London fade into the distance until eventually I was up over the Atlantic and on my way back to a place I haven’t called home in over a decade. I thought the relief I felt boarding the plane and flying away from Noel was freeing, but when my plane lands in L.A. it’s like I’m finally on my own. He knows where I am and he can easily find me, but he won’t. His career and his name have been dragged through the mud and he hasn’t left our house in London since. Going out in public means the scrutiny of the press and the paparazzi, and he wouldn’t dare subject himself to being made to look bad. I, on the other hand, look like the picture of perfection to the public. A release went out about me going forward with the divorce and I’m now only labeled as “Noel Robinson’s estranged wife” in the tabloids. I’d rather be that than his actual wife. I married an abusive, manipulative sociopath and this is the first time in ten years that I don’t have that hanging over my head. Our relationship was doomed from the start and I’ve spent the better part of my life filled with guilt, rationalization, dependency, anger, sadness and constant motivation to leave, but no matter how hard I tried I still felt stuck. Something kept me there. Something tied me to Noel. He had worn me down so much that I was immune to his behavior and after hearing all those times that I would be nothing without him, it led to the perfect combination of self doubt and internal debate. It was an unconscious storm that began spinning long before I ever got up the

courage to leave. I step off the plane and I’m hit with the stifling smog of Los Angeles as I walk through the jet bridge, but for a split second it feels more like home than London ever did. Despite growing up in New York, and my family still living there, my career and my life were made in Hollywood. And subsequently, Noel and I moved to London when he found himself on the receiving end of some bad publicity. Noel was married when we met. I was the other woman and the press ate that up. The public loved us together and saw us a match made in heaven. I was someone who could save his reputation. The love of a good woman corrects everything. But when there’s money and divorce involved things get ugly and they did. To escape the scrutiny, we left Los Angeles and found solace in the quiet confines of London, a city with stricter stalking laws that also apply to the paparazzi. When you’re young, naiveté wins out over common sense, and I looked at Noel’s ex as a bitter and jaded woman who was past her prime and he was a man in a loveless and unhappy marriage. The fucked up thing is I’m that woman now. I had no idea how right she was about him and looking back now I shame myself for not believing all the stories she sold to the tabloids about him. Every word she said was true, but it didn’t matter because Noel and I were a hit, making movies that drew in millions and everyone loves a celebrity couple. What we sold on the surface was slowly killing me, and recently it finally all crumbled. But that strategically placed house of cards falling was the best thing to ever happen to me. Because here I am, finding my path back to the success I once dreamed of having on my own. After this movie gets made my name will no longer be tied to Noel’s and what is said about me will only be about the success of my movies. Normally I wouldn’t be recognized the way an actor is since I spend most of my time behind the camera, but with all the drama surrounding Noel, I’m bombarded by paparazzi as soon as I enter the airport.

What still shocks me after all this time is that these photographers will stop at nothing to get a picture of the latest celebrity under fire, and that includes buying a plane ticket just so they have access to a gate. “Sadie!” someone screams, shoving the woman walking in front of me to the side, and completely disregarding my personal space. The camera is inches from my face, a voice recorder in the man’s other hand as he shouts out a series of questions. “What happens now that you’ve left Noel? Are you moving back to L.A.? Did you hear his mistress has come forward?” It’s the last question that gives me a slight pause. It’s not like I didn’t know and she honestly isn’t the first one, but it still stings when I hear it out loud. It’s embarrassing and the paparazzi know that, so they say it to get a response from me, they say it to catch my reaction and use it to spin stories that people will grab while in the supermarket checkout line. Noel denies sleeping with other women, claiming the stories are just that, stories created by the press. But no matter how many times I hear it, it still catches me off guard. The crazy thing is these women’s stories disappear before they ever gain traction, leading me to dismiss them just as quickly. A crowd of people have now gathered around me, moving like a herd of cattle as I move. Cameras flashing and questions being thrown at me, all of them asking the same thing and continuing to drive the mistress thing home. I don’t dignify their questions with a response because it doesn’t matter what I say, something will end up misconstrued and that’s the last thing I need. One misstep, one answered question and Noel’s lawyers will make this divorce even more difficult than it already is.

Two hours later I walk into our house in the Hollywood Hills, its silence echoing back at me in greeting when I walk through the front door. It’s eerie and the house smells of emptiness, like it’s been left alone too long, like it hasn’t seen the sunlight in ages. Leaving my suitcases by the door, I walk straight to the floor to ceiling windows that overlook the Hollywood sign and drag open the curtains. The light streams

in, and I feel myself close my eyes and smile. I’ve missed the sunshine, the warmth of its rays and when I open my eyes, I realize I’ve missed the quiet comfort of an empty house. I haven’t been alone since I was nineteen years old and while sometimes the idea scares me, it’s also exciting. Finally, a time in my life when I’m not worrying about if I’ll say something that will piss Noel off or if I’ll upset the balance and he’ll lose his shit. For once I won’t be in the background. I won’t be in his shadow. I’ll be able to reestablish connections that I lost in all this mess. As I look out the window, I find myself overcome with my newfound freedom, and I begin to look around the house that while I once shared it with Noel, it shows no signs that two people ever lived here. It’s like the homes a realtor shows you, the one that looks like it couldn’t have possibly ever been lived in. Not a picture is out of place, not a rug with a single part of it disturbed, not a fingerprint on anything or a hand towel in the bathroom used. I can’t handle it and I walk through every room, pulling blankets loose from the beds, tossing throw pillows and opening blinds. I can’t possibly live here for the next year living like Noel lives. I need the chaos now. I need to start over. Tomorrow we’ll begin the arduous task of marking the set and preparing for filming. It’s long and because the movie does have quite a few stunts, we’ll need to prep everyone. As the writer of the movie I was able to request several actors and actresses I had in mind for the certain roles and the pre-production crew took my ideas and ran with them. Casting is easy when your movies are generally a success. I do worry about my reputation, always being attached to Noel and using his name to drive my career; branching out on my own could be a huge risk. Maybe I’m only as good as I am with Noel. But I won’t let all of this cloud my freedom, so I’m going to sit outside by my pool with a view that most would die for and drink a bottle of wine.

The next morning I’m woken up by my phone ringing, my mind a cloudy haze

as I come out of a deep sleep. The sky is still dark and I wonder what time it even is. It’s like a dream though, I can’t where I am, the chiming of the phone is melodic and it works its way into my memory. My eyes are heavy and I feel the spot next to me on the bed, but find it empty and the phone stops ringing. I stretch my arms above my head and force my eyes open, taking in the room and smiling when I finally realize yesterday wasn’t a dream. I’m back in L.A., back where my life is quieter and Noel is missing. But these feelings are short-lived when my phone rings out once again, because it can only be Noel calling this early in the morning. I knew I couldn’t escape him forever, but at least the distance will bide me some time. There’s not a chance he’s not going to show up here and begin his manipulation tactics once again. His career is failing and mine is about to flourish, and he needs to be a part of that. But as my screen lights up, the sound echoing in the expanse of the bedroom, the name is my mother. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve spoken to her and it’s not because I don’t miss my parents, but when you move away, time es and distance is hard and lives are lived. It’s also hard to it to them that my marriage is a failure and for all these years I’ve lied to them. Noel manipulated them as much as he manipulated me, and when the tabloids would tell stories of his outrageous behavior, I’d chalk it up to people trying to sell stories. I’m not sure they ever fully believed me, but what were they supposed to do? I was an adult, I was successful and I was no longer living a life they had any control over. I had no control over it either. I answer the phone, my voice still groggy from sleep as my greeting comes out quieter and more garbled than I expect. “Hi Mom.” “Oh my god, Sadie! Where are you?” she shouts, the shakiness in her voice giving away the panic I know she’s feeling.

“I’m in Los Angeles. Why?” I ask, but my heart is racing at just the sound of her voice. I can hear my father shouting in the background and I want to ask a million questions, but no words leave my mouth. The sounds of her tears, the catching of her breath is all I hear down the line. “Oh Sadie,” she moans out, her sobs turning to ragged breaths. “Noel called your father this morning, about an hour ago. We…we…” she stutters, her words once again not coming out as they should and just hearing her say Noel’s name causes a fire to burn inside me. Hot anger returns, and I clench my teeth so hard my head begins to throb. “Mom, put Dad on.” This time whatever panic I felt has been replaced and my voice is cold and unwavering. “Sadie?” my father says, his voice is weak, like he’s testing my name to see if it’s really me. “Yes, Dad. What is going on?” “Noel called me this morning at six a.m. to tell me you left him. He said you weren’t fit to be on your own and he worried about your mental health. He said he thought you we’re going to…” He trails off, a hard swallow coming through the phone as he can’t finish his thought. I can’t immediately process what Noel’s words have done to my parents. The only thing in my mind is that this is a new low even for him and my rage for him strikes harder than anything. He’s not only trying to ruin my life and my career, he’s trying to ruin my parents’ lives too. He’s trying to get them to intervene, but I realize now is the time for the truth, that I can’t keep lying to them about what my life has been like for the last ten years. Getting a phone call like this and at the time Noel did it has to be a parent’s worst nightmare. I imagine the emotions they felt at wondering if their daughter were dead are not the kind that people can put into words. Every part of Noel’s phone call was calculated and meant to elicit a series of emotions my parents couldn’t even begin to process. Woken up early in the morning, they wouldn’t question him. They wouldn’t last long enough to wonder about anything but my safety.

Manipulation. It’s now that I know I have to tell them everything. Every story I lied about, every word I told them was made up in the tabloids was the truth. When they nervously questioned me and I appeased them with lies, making them feel like their intuition was wrong, I now need to correct all of that. So I do just that. I tell them everything and by the time I finally make it to the set to start filming, I’m exhausted. And it’s only nine o’clock in the morning.

Chapter Four

Paul

When the alarm goes off, I reach for my phone, silencing the loud noise that’s basically pointless given I’ve been awake most of the night. It wouldn’t matter if I hadn’t spent the night rehashing everything I discovered when I went back to Helena’s apartment yesterday. This place is so fucking noisy, I’m not sure I could get a good night’s sleep even without a million things going on inside my head. “Shit,” I groan, lifting the phone to see the dozen missed calls from Helena. I delete them all and block her number, not caring what she has to say to me, what excuse she can possibly come up with for what I walked in on yesterday. My eyes close as I’m once again hit with memories. The easy familiarity with which this guy found her apartment; the image of her standing there in her underwear when she answered the door. The way he fucking looked at her when she opened it and the look on her face before she realized I was standing there too. The unspoken questions that had immediately popped inside my head: how many times had this happened in the past? And had I been too damn blind or just too damn stupid to see it? “Fuck’s sake,” I say, opening my eyes as I type out a quick message to my sister asking her to pick up my stuff from Helena’s apartment today so I can just end this whole thing for good. Say goodbye to three fucking years that clearly meant nothing to her. My phone vibrates with an incoming text that I know will be from my sister.

Alyssa: what’s happened??? Me: she was cheating on me. I’m done.

My phone vibrates again, but this time it’s to indicate a phone call. “Hey Lyss,” I answer, propping myself up against the pillows. “What the hell happened?” Alyssa asks, not bothering with the hello. “She cheated? You’re sure?” I exhale, closing my eyes as I’m once again reminded of last night. “I’m sure,” I say. “I walked in and found them together. I hadn’t even left the country and he was already over there.” “Ugh, that fucking cunt,” Alyssa says, her voiced laced with venom. She never particularly warmed to Helena and this will only serve to reinforce her already low opinion of her. I let out a long breath. “Yeah, it’s kind of a dick punch after three years together,” I reply. “Anyway, she should be leaving my stuff at her reception. Can you pick it up for me please?” “Yes,” Alyssa answers. “Of course I can. I might go and give that bitch a piece of my mind too.” I can’t help but smile, knowing that’s exactly what my baby sister is going to do. Even though I’m the eldest, she somehow seems to think it’s her job in life to take care of me. Or maybe it’s because she just hates Helena that much, she can’t resist the opportunity to tell her exactly what she thinks about her. “You don’t need to do that, Lyss,” I say, knowing it’s pointless me even saying it. “Yes, I do,” she says, her words firm. “But enough about her, are you okay? You’re in L.A. now right?” she asks.

“I’m okay,” I tell her, not really meaning it. “And yep, here for the next three months, I think.” “Good,” she says. “A break from her is exactly what you need.” “Mmm,” I murmur. “And what’s the movie you’re working on called again?” “A Perfect Place.” Alyssa scoffs. “God, how fucking ironic,” she says. “But hey, maybe it really will be the perfect place for you to get over that lying, cheating bitch.” “God, Lyss,” I say, laughing a little. “Have I told you how much I love you?” “Meh, it never hurts to hear it again,” she says and I know she’s smiling now. “Anyway, I gotta go. Filming starts today,” I say. “Thank you for getting my stuff. I’ll call you tonight?” “Yes, no problem. Go, forget about the she-devil and have fun. Maybe have a fling with one of your stunt girls or something.” I roll my eyes even though my sister can’t see me. “Whatever you say, Lyss,” I say. “Bye.”

I park the rental the production company set up for me in the studio lot, grab my bag from the enger seat and the coffee from the center console and make my way inside. I normally love the start of making a new movie, the excitement of everything we’re about to create, but I know today is going to be different. Aside from all the shit that’s currently inside my head, it’s going to be a super long day, which is now going to be infinitely worse due to the fact I’ve had no sleep. It’s the first day of filming and after a quick meeting to go over logistics, it’s going to be straight out to the streets. We are to begin filming one of the fight scenes that actually doesn’t come until the end of the movie.

Movies are never filmed in order and often it depends on how things work with the star’s schedules, the local authorities and whether production is able to block traffic or close streets down. Even in a city like L.A., which literally lives and breathes movies, it’s a huge imposition to the regular folk just trying to go about their day job. “Paul, hey,” Andrew, the head stunt coordinator calls out as I walk into the office and we shake hands. “How’s things?” “All good. You?” I ask. Andrew nods. “Excited to work on this movie actually,” he says, as we the rest of the stunt crew at the table. “This director might be new, but she’s got an awesome script and some really fantastic ideas for how she wants it all to play out.” I grab the script from my bag knowing that’s high praise coming from Andrew. Glancing around the table, I say hi to the other stunt actors who’ll be working on this movie. It’s a small crew, only three guys and two girls, plus me, but they are all people I’ve worked with before. Surprisingly enough, the pool of people able to work as stunt actors and doubles is pretty small, most of them either retiring early because of too many injuries or making the jump to actual acting roles if the opportunity ever presents itself. I’ve been lucky so far on the injury front, a twisted ankle and broken finger are the worst I’ve suffered, and I’ve got no desire to be the main star, so moving into acting isn’t going to happen for me. I don’t read the tabloids or go to premieres. I don’t even watch the award shows on TV, preferring to hear the news of any win from my agent. When a movie I’ve worked on comes out, more often than not, I’ll buy myself a ticket to a late screening and go alone, preferring to just enjoy the moment without a million eyes on me and a million questions afterward. It’s another one of the things Helena used to constantly bring up with me. How she could never understand why I didn’t want to be a movie star and earn the big bucks. How I didn’t want to walk the red carpet or promote all the things I’d done, use my connection to movie stars and all the rich associates that seem to constantly surround them.

It didn’t matter how many times I told her that wasn’t my scene, she didn’t seem to care. Given recent events, I’m not sure if she ever cared about anything when it came to me. God, how the fuck had I been so blind to this for so long? After we do a quick read through of today’s scene, the six of us make our way to the crew bus that’s going to take us down to Venice Beach for the shoot. I take a seat in the back, making small talk with Gus, another of the stunt guys as we make our way out of the lot and into the late morning L.A. traffic. It’s gonna take over an hour to get there, so propping my jacket against the window, I try and take advantage of the free time to catch up on some desperately needed zzz’s.

“Paul, wake up.” I force my eyes to open, my lids feeling like they’re weighed down with lead. Gus is standing beside my seat, a grin on his face. “You have a big night or something?” I shake my head, pushing up and out of my seat. “No, the opposite,” I say, scrubbing a hand down my face. “Christ, I hope there’s some coffee.” Off the bus, we walk over to the trailer that’s been set up for us. Inside, I dump my bags before Gus and I are told to head over to costume to get dressed in the matching outfits of the movie stars we’ll be standing in for. In this movie, I’ll be standing in for the main star, while Gus is standing in for the co-star who plays the villain. Although we don’t usually care which way we play these things, knowing most of it is based on hair color and body shape, filling in for the main star does mean more screen time and more action. After we’re both dressed and make-up has taken a cursory glance over us to make sure we fit the bill, I spot a catering table set up outside someone’s trailer. Unable to resist the call of caffeine, I wander over to grab a quick cup of coffee. “ me a cup, please?”

I glance down to find a woman, casually dressed in tight black jeans and an oversized grey sweater that hangs off one shoulder, standing beside me. Her long blonde hair is pulled back into a messy bun that’s being held in place with a pencil and she has another one tucked behind her ear. A smile tugs at my mouth as I reach for a cup and hand it to her. “Thanks,” she says, glancing up at me, an exhausted look on her face. “You look like I feel,” I say, filling my cup with black coffee before adding a couple of sugars. The woman reaches for a stirrer before dumping a handful of sugars into her own cup and stirring it furiously. I chuckle. “Careful there, you don’t want to overdose.” She looks up at me before looking down at the coffee she holds in her hands, a confused look on her face. “Shit, how many did I just add?” I shrug. “Looked close to five maybe?” I suggest. She scrubs a hand over her face. “Jesus,” she mutters. “Bad night?” I ask. She shakes her head. “Bad morning actually,” she murmurs, reaching for a muffin. I watch as she takes a large bite, chewing hungrily before washing it down with a large mouthful of coffee. She winces when she realizes how hot it is and I reach for a bottle of water and wordlessly hold it out to her. She stares at my outstretched hand before looking up at me. “Thanks,” she says, swallowing hard as she takes the bottle. “What about you,” she asks, tipping her head in the direction of my coffee. “Why are you so desperate for a hit?” Now it’s me scrubbing a hand down my face, my eyes briefly closing. “Bad night,” I mutter, my hand scratching my jaw. She doesn’t say anything and when I finally turn to her, I find her staring up at

me, her blue eyes wide. I offer her a smile, but it feels forced. “It’s nothing,” I say, waving my hand. “Just a cheating girlfriend and a three-year mistake, that’s all. But hey,” I say, trying for a laugh. “We’ve all been there, haven’t we?” She continues to look up at me, her blue eyes locked onto mine now, searching my face as if she isn’t quite sure what I’m telling her. Even I don’t know why the fuck I just said that. Eventually I hear her whisper, “Are you okay?” I shrug, feigning nonchalance. “I will be.” “Well, if you…” “Okay, places people!” A voice calls out, cutting her off. I smile at her, throwing back the last of my coffee before dropping the cup into the trash and saying, “Action time.” She doesn’t say anything more and I nod my head once before moving over to where Gus is waiting for me, working his way through the movements of the fight scene we’ve both previously rehearsed with trainers prior to all of this starting. It’s not the first time he and I have played opposite each other and like always, I’m looking forward to sparring with him, knowing he’ll bring an element of realism that you rarely get with other stunt workers. “You good?” he asks, a big grin on his face as he bounces on his feet and shadow boxes the air. I laugh, mirroring his action. “I’m good. Don’t let a sleeplessness night fool you, Gussy.” He laughs now and we both turn as the lighting is positioned and the cameras turn toward us. In the distance, behind the barricades the LAPD have set up, a crowd gathers, anxious to catch sight of a movie star. No one bothers to tell them the stars aren’t here yet.

Just as we’re waiting for everything to kick off, I see the woman from the catering table walk up to the main camera. Curious, I watch as she puts on a set of headphones and picks up the script folder. She quickly scans the page before looking up, her eyes meeting mine as she holds a hand up and yells, “Action!” Fuck, she’s the new director?

Chapter Five

Sadie

When I call action and the set falls silent something inside me changes, my heart begins to race in a way that screams excitement and freedom. I’ve only codirected movies with Noel and any of the movies I’d written alone, Noel claimed never mattered. But they’ve all mattered to me: big or small. They’ve all shaped my craft and allowed me to work at all levels of this industry. I look around, taking in the vastness of Venice Beach and the production crew with their cameras and microphones, the whole set up, and I realize how lucky I am to be here. At nineteen I dreamed of being here, but thought it was one of those things that would never materialize. I was always the writer, never the director until I met Noel and even though he’s a complete asshole, I do have him to thank for my career becoming more than I dreamed of. I always had the talent, something he can never take credit for, but without his high-profile name, my career would’ve never reached this level. I hate that he can stake claim to that, but I need to move on, and as I scan the beach, a part of me smiles secretly. I’ve closed down Venice Beach. My movie, a movie I wrote and am directing, is the reason for the crowd of people and the camera flashes and the quiet hum of conversations gossiping about if this movie will be the next big one. I call cut as we finish up an argument between our two main characters and lead into an action sequence that needs to be shot with the male lead’s stuntman. The male lead storms away dramatically, getting into his car, and driving

recklessly. It’s the crash that culminates at the end that will require the stuntman and why we have a mile of road closed for the next several hours. It’s scenes like this that make for a nervous excitement, a jittery feeling of butterflies in my stomach, a lightness in my chest and the idea that if we nail this on the first shot, it will be epic. Despite my shaking hands, I call out orders and shift people and look through cameras, making sure the lighting is perfect, making sure the shot is staged. I take one last look through the cameras, because one of the biggest issues with using a stuntman in the place of my male lead is seeing his face. We’ve taken the lead as far as he can go in this shot and now it’s up to the stuntman to mimic his every movement, to perfect his mannerisms, to be him in every way so that the people watching the movie don’t notice a single hair out of place. But when I look through two of the cameras, I can see him, an angle that gives away that he’s definitely not our handsome well-known lead actor, and while the stuntman is equally handsome, it’s just not the same. We need only the back of his head, and possibly just his jawline so I adjust the cameras, but still catch too much of him. “Hold up!” I call out, tossing a hand up as I walk out from behind the camera and over to the parked car. I stop a few feet short of the car. I look at the cameras and then back at the stuntman as he waits patiently for me to get it together. I walk around the other side of the car and climb into the enger’s seat, leaning over and again checking the cameras. “Hi, I’m Sadie,” I tell the stuntman who I just happened to be chatting with at the catering stand and he replies that his name is Paul. “Okay, Paul, I’m going to need you to shift just slightly to the right. Sort of an awkward angle for driving, but we are getting a full shot of your face otherwise.” “You want to cut my moneymaker out of the shot?” he asks, a cheeky smirk on his face. “See that, I thought your moneymaker was your hot body, but only from behind,” I tease back and he looks a little caught off guard, both of us suspended in a moment of silence. “Can I move your face?” I ask, cutting through the

stillness that lingers. Noel always manhandled his actors and stunt people, pulling and shoving them in the direction he wanted them to move or he’d just bark out orders. He hated that I always asked permission to shift someone around. Paul nods his head and when my fingertips touch the stubble on his jaw, my breath catches in my throat and I watch as he swallows hard. I force on a professional smile and tilt his face toward mine. “Here, I need you looking in this direction and we’ll need to angle the car just a little bit more.” Paul shifts, and begins to back the car up until I throw up a hand, telling him to stop. “Ken and Reed, check the cameras now!” I yell out and they both do exactly as I say, calling back a few changes to me. I exit the car and run over to the cameras, checking them myself before radioing out to the cameras we have set up at the end of the street. Once all seems ready to go, an assistant calls for quiet on the set, noting the timecode on the digital slate as we sync up the sound and the filming. Everything needs to be perfectly timed for editing since it will all need to be pieced together. I suck in a hard breath, holding it in and sending up a silent signal to whoever may be listening that this all goes as planned. “Action!” Paul hits the accelerator on the car, the tires spinning on the pavement and letting out a squeal as it takes off. The spike of adrenaline that moves through my body rushes hard and I suddenly exhale hard and fast. The car needs to crash into a wood-frame faux cement embankment, but in order for it to look realistic it needs to hit hard enough to inflict damage. It’s a dangerous position for the stunt person too. In the end, it will be edited and effects will be added, but none of that matters if the crash looks slow and fake. The car is just a plastic shell that will crumble upon impact and if we don’t get the shot perfectly, a re-shoot will delay the whole production. We’re all waiting with bated breath, following along with the mounted cameras on the process trailer as the car careens toward the embankment.

Hitting with blunt force, the shell collapses and Paul’s body is jarred violently in the car. Everything about it is pure perfection from a filming standpoint, but the celebration is on hold until everything is checked. I call out “cut” over the radio and begin the process of confirming the shot scene. I scan the film, watching it play back in slow motion as I the lighting and think about how each frame will place itself into each scene during editing. My next point of concern is my stuntman. While it’s his job to basically abuse his body, I never want anyone injured on my set. I hop off the process trailer as I instruct one of the production assistants to continue to review the footage and I hightail it over to where Paul and the rest of the production crew are waiting. When I reach the mangled car, Paul is climbing out, giving his head a shake and swiping a bare wrist over the blood that runs from his nose. Fuck “Are you okay?” I ask, knowing that even the simplest stunts can cause people to be hurt. But I still worry. “All good. Did you get the shot?” His voice goes up a little at the end, a lilt of excitement at the idea of nailing the shot on the first take. I look at him, my head cocked slightly to the side and I see in his eyes that same thing I feel. A rush of excitement, a camaraderie in understanding what it means and the pride that swells in knowing a job has been done well. And his response is all I need to know that this take was a huge success. “It was absolutely fucking perfect!” I yell out, throwing a fist up in the air, far prouder of my crew and myself than I ever have been on the set of any movie I’ve directed. They have no idea what this means to me. The crew cheers out loud right along with me and I’m struck by the communal energy that engulfs this set. When I succeed, they succeed and I’m only as good as the people I direct. Not one of us failed to perform. I can’t help but enjoy the moment, dancing around and clapping my hands, and without thinking about it, I throw my arms around Paul’s neck, hugging him and

thanking him for making this entire scene come to life. But what es between us feels electrified and I pull away quickly, running my hand through my hair and tugging at the sleeves of my shirt. The excitement begins to die down and I can’t help but wonder if it was because of my weird display of affection for a stuntman I just met a few hours ago. I don’t dwell on it and the crew begins to set up for our next scene with little instruction from me. Taking in a deep breath, my shoulders rising with the movement as I exhale hard. It’s time to pull myself back together and stop celebrating, but I struggle when I hear Paul call my name. My back is turned to him, and when I turn back to face him, he’s standing directly in front of me. He wipes away the blood from his nose, and I take in his face. He’s beautiful, far more stunning than most men in his role, but he has a wildness about him, a fierceness that shines in his almost iridescent blue eyes. He wipes at his nose again with the damp towel and I find myself memorizing his face. Strong features: a chiseled jawline and a nose that looks to have been once broken, disheveled dirty blonde hair and a smile that could make any girl melt in his presence. He looks like a bad decision. He’s smirking at me when I finally stop checking him out and I feel my cheeks grow hot and flush pink as I chew recklessly on my bottom lip. “Great job, Sadie. Only the good ones nail it on the first try,” he says, his tone sending off an air of flirtation and again I feel myself blushing. And I wanna nail you on the first try, my brain murmurs and I bite down harder on my lip. “Thank you,” I mutter back, suddenly aware of my awkwardness as I think about the last time I had this kind of interaction with a man. Fuck my life, it’s been way too long. “I gotta go get cleaned up,” Paul says, tilting his head in the direction of the makeup trailer and I nod in response, worried I may have just announced to him

that it’s been way too long since I’ve been laid. We part and as I walk back to where the next scene is being set up, I find myself looking back as Paul walks in the opposite direction. I flop down in a chair, tugging my hand though my hair as my assistant walks up holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a glass of ice in the other. “Not sure which one you want,” Shannon jokes, thrusting the ice at me. “I’m thinking this one.” “What are you talking about?” Playing dumb isn’t going to work on her. She’s been my assistant for far too long, and unfortunately, she knows far too much about my sex life with Noel. “Please,” she says, narrowing her eyes at me. “Like you didn’t notice that hot as fuck stuntman. Nice job though, acting like you throwing yourself at him was out of excitement over the scene.” “I was excited about the scene,” I defend, crossing my arms over my chest and letting out a huff in mock annoyance. “And we’re all excited about you hooking up with someone who isn’t your jerk of a husband.” She lavishly throws her arms around as if to indicate that all these people on set her. “That’s called cheating, Shannon and I’m not a cheater.” “Well, you’re the only one taking the moral high road because we all know he’s been cheating on you.” Everyone hates Noel but Shannon hates him with the fire of a thousand suns. I don’t blame her. She’s had to deal with him as much as I have, and now that he’s gone both of our lives have gotten easier. “Low blow. Sorry,” she quickly retorts and hands me the cup of coffee. “It’s all going to be over soon because he’s g the divorce papers, but I’m sure he’s not going down without a fight.” I try to play casual even though I know the nightmare is only beginning, and after what he pulled with my parents

this morning, I can only imagine what else he’s cooking up. The rest of my thoughts are cut short when Paul walks back onto set, but this time he’s pulling a shirt on and Shannon and I catch a glimpse of his ridiculously fit body just before he finishes. “Oh my god,” she mutters and it takes everything in me not to laugh out loud. She took the words right out of my mouth.

Chapter Six

Paul

The first day of filming is literally action packed, but it’s in that adrenaline rushing, heart pounding, kind of way. The car crash scene we just filmed had been like a jolt of electricity straight to the heart, energizing me. And nailing it on the first take, fuck, that kind of thing is one in a million and only amplifies everything I’m feeling right now. But I’d be totally lying if I said part of it hadn’t also been due to the cute as hell director we have. Because she most definitely is part of the reason I’m feeling so juiced up right now. I mean she’s cute and funny and from the limited amount of interaction I’ve have with her so far, just so totally normal too. And of course, married. “Fuck,” I mutter to myself as I gather up my things from our trailer on the set and prepare to head back to the studio. Married, which means off-limits, go straight past go, do not even think about it. Having walked in on my own girlfriend of three years cheating on me, the last thing I want to do is that club myself. No thank you. But particularly not when the woman in question is my director and her husband is of the Noel Robinson variety. And while he might have had some drama over the movie he was working on getting shut down a couple of months ago, I know it will only be a matter of time before he is back on set, screaming at his actors and generally being an arrogant asshole while his movies once again top box offices all around the world.

Having worked on several of his movies in the past, I know exactly what he’s like. Which means I know exactly why even thinking about his wife in any way other than as my boss is a big fat no go area.

By the time we get back to the studio, it’s late, well after ten o’clock. But when we walk inside, the place is buzzing with what can only be described as an impromptu party. Catering tables lining the wall are covered in ice buckets filled with beers and bottles of wine. Nearby, a guy is mixing drinks for people, while an adjacent table is being filled with pizzas by three delivery guys. “Come, us!” a voice calls and when I look up, it’s the director I should absolutely not be thinking about, who’s suggesting it. She’s standing by the table, holding a beer, while her assistant hands over a wad of cash to the pizza guys. “We’ve got pizza, beer, help yourself,” she adds, waving a hand over the tables. Somewhere, some music starts to play and Sadie smiles, her head bobbing in time to the beat. I’m tired as fuck, but I don’t want to leave. “I’m in,” Gus says, slapping me on the back as he walks past me and over to the table with the beers. “Paul?” Sadie asks, watching me. I shrug, as if to say, why not, before dropping my bag on the floor and heading over to grab a drink. Sadie doesn’t move and as I twist off the cap, I find myself turning to her and asking, “So you happy with how today went?” Her smile widens. “Yep, I am,” she says, looking up at me. “I don’t think it could’ve gone any better.” I nod. “You got some major scenes shot with really limited takes,” I say. “I might be out of a job sooner than I thought.”

I’m only half-joking, but Sadie doesn’t seem to realize. “Your contract will be honored, regardless of how quickly we get this done,” she says, her words serious. I glance down at her, my eyes flicking to her face and then her hand as it rests against my arm, her fingers are soft against my bare skin, but still sending a jolt of electricity straight up my arm. She quickly pulls her hand away, as though she didn’t even know she’d put it there and as soon as it’s gone, I want it back. “I’m not worried about that,” I tell her. “I know you’re not like your husband.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them. “Fuck, sorry, that was really inappropriate.” Sadie shakes her head as she takes a big gulp of her beer and swallows hard. “No, it’s fine. I get it.” “No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have…” “Paul,” she says, cutting me off as her hand once again finds its way to my arm. “I get it. Noel’s an asshole in every sense of the word and ending your contract early is exactly the sort of thing he’d do.” Now it’s me taking a big gulp of beer, unsure what to say or how to respond. “Anyway, he’s about to be my ex-husband, so…” My head whips around as she trails off. “What?” A sad smile tugs at the corner of her mouth as she lifts her beer for another sip. “I’m divorcing him,” she says quietly. “I’m sorry,” I tell her. She shrugs. “Thanks, but like I said, he’s an asshole, so you know, it’s all good.” She gives a small laugh, but it’s without humor. “Asshole or not,” I tell her, “it’s still a shitty thing to go through.”

Sadie finishes her beer nodding. “Yeah, it is, but anyway,” she says dismissing the topic as she grabs two more beers and hands one to me. “Let’s have another drink.” I take the beer she offers me and we wordlessly stand here, sipping our drinks. It feels kinda awkward and I’m wracking my brain for something to say that isn’t insulting or just plain stupid. I risk a glance at her, at the same time as she looks up at me and without saying anything, both of us suddenly burst out laughing. “God, that was sort of a buzz kill, wasn’t it?” she says, smiling up at me. I feel myself grinning back at her. “Yeah, sorry about that.” “Meh,” she says, waving a hand. “Let’s just call it done. You have a shitty exgirlfriend and I have a shitty soon-to-be ex-husband,” she adds. I shake my head, ing how I told her this morning about Helena. “Fuck me, we’re a sad pair, aren’t we?” Sadie laughs. “Yeah, but at least we’re free of them now,” she adds and I swear as she says those words, something weird happens. Suddenly the air between us somehow feels charged with electricity, an undercurrent of tension ing us, pulling us closer, as my eyes meet hers. She stares up at me, her blue eyes wide and unblinking and I can feel myself drowning in them. I can see myself so easily getting lost in them. “Sadie!” someone yells, breaking the moment instantly as Sadie turns away. Rebecca Richards, the female lead of this movie is waving at Sadie, beckoning her over. Just as I think she’s going to walk away, Sadie turns back to me, her hand once again finding its way to my arm. “Excuse me for a second?” she asks. “Of course,” I say, a little surprised. Sadie smiles. “Have fun, and no more talk of exes,” she says.

I nod, giving her a small salute that makes her laugh before she walks away.

I spend the next few hours hanging out with the other stunt crew, shooting the shit and having more beers than I probably should. Despite how tired I am, I feel relaxed and glad I stuck around to mingle with the cast and crew. It seems like a really nice bunch of people working on this movie, which is good. It always amazes me how some of the movie stars are so completely normal and some of them are total assholes, as though the money and fame has somehow made them above everyone else. But the leads for this movie are the normal kind, both of them having introduced themselves to all the cast and crew. They’re now here mingling with everyone as though this is just a regular party and not one filled with people who regularly earn six figure salaries for three months’ worth of work. I know a part of this relaxed atmosphere is due to Sadie, too. Because even though everyone knows her as Noel Robinson’s wife, she’s most definitely nothing like him. There are no screaming or derogatory comments yelled at the cast, no tantrums or unrealistic expectations either. It’s the total opposite to working on a Noel Robinson movie and it makes me wonder how the hell she ever wound up married to the guy. Not married to him anymore… a voice in my head reminds me. I find myself searching the room for her, wondering where she is and who she’s talking to. “Looking for someone?” I turn back and find Sadie standing in front of me, a smile on her face. Grinning, I shrug, trying to play it cool as I say, “Just thinking what a cool crew this is.” Not exactly what I was thinking, but not a lie either. Sadie smiles. “Yeah, it is,” she says as she looks around the room. “So, are you

from L.A.?” she asks. I shake my head. “Canada,” I reply. “You?” “New York originally,” she says. “But I’ve been living in London for the last ten years. Just moved back here last week.” “So what, you’re living here now?” Sadie nods as she mouths the word divorce at me. “Gotcha,” I add, winking. “Well, I’m staying in this dump on the edge of the city, pretty sure it might actually be a crack den.” “Seriously?” Sadie asks, a horrified look on her face. I laugh. “Maybe,” I say, shrugging. “Do you want me to find you somewhere else to stay?” she asks. “No, no,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m good. It’s all good,” I tell her. “I’m tougher than I look,” I add, giving her another wink. She runs her eyes slowly down my body before lifting them again to my face. The whole thing feels weirdly seductive, as though it’s her hands that are slowly moving over me and I can feel every single thing her touch is doing to me. “I think you look pretty damn tough actually,” she says, when her eyes finally meet mine again. I swallow hard, unsure what to make of her words. “I mean, obviously being a stuntman you’d have to…to work out, right?” she asks, looking away. I smile. “I do, yeah. Usually spend a couple hours in the gym each day. I’m trained in martial arts and boxing too, so you know,” I add, shrugging. “Wow,” Sadie murmurs, muttering something else under her breath. “Huh?” I ask, glancing at her.

She lifts her gaze from my chest to my face, her eyes dark as she licks her bottom lip before pulling it between her teeth. Inside my chest, my heart starts to pound, tapping out a hard rhythm I can feel all the way down to my toes. What the hell is happening here? “So, you could totally kick someone’s ass then?” she asks, cocking a brow. I smile, even as that weird tension between us lingers. “Totally.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Good to know,” she says, nodding. “I’ll that when I need someone to help me out with that.” I chuckle. “I could teach you to kick ass too, you know.” That eyebrow of hers cocks again and I feel my smile widen. She’s fucking adorable. “Me?” she asks, glancing down at herself. “I’m like five foot nothing and never set foot inside a gym.” I laugh, my head falling back. “Well, the gym thing we can change,” I say. “But don’t let size fool you,” I add. “You might be tiny, but you can still be fierce.” “Really?” she asks, and I don’t miss the look of excitement that flashes across her face. “Really.” “But you’re saying I should still hit the gym?” she asks, her brows narrowing, a look of disgust on her face now. Chuckling, I nod. “Yeah, you should. Why? You don’t like working out?” “Mmmm,” she says, waving her hand as though she’s undecided. “Nope, not really,” she eventually its. I laugh again. “Maybe you just haven’t been doing it right?” I suggest. “Because it’s kinda addictive. That rush you get from a good hard workout. Kinda like sex,” I add. “Although obviously not as good.” Sadie’s mouth drops open as a slight flush colors her cheeks. “Maybe I’m not

doing it right,” she murmurs, almost to herself. “The trick is to mix things up a bit. Don’t let your body get used to the workout, ‘cause then it gets bored and you won’t want to do it anymore.” She swallows hard now, her eyes growing impossibly darker as though she’s wondering if that same rule also applies to sex. Yeah, Sadie it does. “Maybe I need to go to the gym sometime,” she finally says, her voice husky and low and making me forget all about working out and instead thinking about what that voice of hers would sound like moaning my name. “Maybe you should,” I say. Sadie nods once but says nothing more and I’m suddenly wondering what the hell it is that’s happening here.

Chapter Seven

Sadie

I’m exhausted when I finally arrive home, but still somehow completely wired and unable to sleep. I forgot what it was like to be on a movie set without being under Noel’s thumb. The sense that someone isn’t constantly watching me, judging, and waiting for the moment to dissect everything I do. My creativity has been stifled for so long. I cut my directing teeth on a movie that I co-directed with Noel and at times I feel like an imposter in this industry. I sold a few screenplays after I started working with Noel, but beyond that everything I wrote and directed was with him. They were his ideas, his directing notes, his edits to the screenplays, but at least I was working, even if I questioned my talent at every turn. Our life was a lie of smoke and mirrors, of forced smiles and hidden stories, but it’s all coming to an end and it feels exhilarating. I needed today. I needed it to remind myself that my name was not made by a man, that my talent sures Noel’s words. I close the door behind me, the house dimly lit, the silence of its vast emptiness consuming me, and I find myself laughing, a mix of tears and happiness entwining to light a fire inside me. I call out the empty house, my words echoing back to me and making me laugh even more. Silence is golden. Or in my case, freeing.

But more than all of this, there was something about the stuntman, Paul that made me feel alive. I felt myself smiling in his presence, enjoying the playful teasing quality of our conversations. I dig through my purse as I walk through the house and upstairs toward the bedroom, pulling out my phone, a giddy feeling of excitement over the day still lingering. Despite it being late and knowing I have to get up early, I begin to look up everything I can find about Paul. It wasn’t me who signed him on as one of the stunt people on the set and I’m intrigued by his qualifications…or maybe I’m just curious about him. I’m nosily scrolling through as a text message notification from my assistant drops down from the top of the screen, grabbing my attention.

Shannon: Have you fucking seen these?

I quickly read her message now just as curious about the links she’s sent as I am about Paul. Clicking the first one, I feel my heart plummet into my stomach and I suck in a breath, letting it out slowly. I should’ve known it was coming, that my high would be short-lived, and that he would eventually make his resurgence. “Noel Robinson, Don’t Call It a Comeback” is the first headline and I don’t bother reading the article because I already know what it’s going to say. I click the next link and the title flashes in front of my eyes, “Noel Robinson, the Come-Back Kid” along with the subheading “We should all be on his side”. I go on to scan the article wondering why I should be rooting for this manipulative narcissist. It begins to list his many accomplishments: All his award-winning movies, his donations to numerous charities and politicians, all the actors and actresses he managed to make into stars. There are even quotes from people in the industry talking about how they can’t even imagine the movie business without Noel Robinson. And then it’s there glaring back at me, the reason the world should feel sorry for him. Why his crumbling career is far sadder than his on set behavior.

“Sadie Washington has filed for divorce.” There’s nothing worse, or should I say bigger, than a celebrity divorce and in my case, I look like the gold digger, the bitter soon to be ex-wife, the unive partner. Being twelve years younger than Noel has always been something I knew would come back to bite me in the ass. He was well established in the industry when we met and even back then the press questioned my motives. Nineteen and dating a thirty-one year old man can only mean one thing to the prying eyes of the public and to now be filing for divorce… Let the rumors begin. What the public reading these articles doesn’t know is that every single one of these reporters were paid by Noel or his PR team to write them, to mask the ugliness he created. What’s also in the works is a smear campaign for anyone who chooses to go against what these articles say. Noel’s pockets are deep, but his connections are deeper. There were rumors going around that a freelance journalist from The Guardian was working on a story to expose Noel, finding women and men to interview and building a case against him. An attempt to expose all the behind the scenes scandals Noel works hard to keep hidden, but this guy is a little fish in a big pond who was probably caught and killed. It was a brief moment of redemption I thought was coming, but I should’ve known better. The murmurings slowly grew quiet and I knew for sure Noel had killed any story that may have gained speed. It’s just part of this industry, especially when you have the kind of money Noel has. He is win at all costs. There’s no reasoning, no logic, no humanity and that’s why I need to get out as soon as possible. I’m lucky I landed this job, that someone decided to push back against Noel because things will get ugly and my current situation will no doubt be brought into it. All I can hope is that the production studio continues to back me and my movie while this plays out.

Not bothering to click the third link Shannon sent me, knowing it contains the same garbage story, I chuck it to the side. The phone bounces awkwardly on the bed before coming to rest with a thud on the floor as I lie on the bed staring up at the ceiling. I have to be up in just a few hours, so I pull my pants off and fall asleep without even taking my makeup off.

I awake the next morning to the muffled sound of my phone alarm chiming and my eyes sticky with crusty old mascara. Sometimes freedom looks a little messy. The sun is just beginning to rise as I untangle myself from the bed and begin the search for my chiming phone, ing my childish tossing of it right before I fell asleep. Eventually locating it partially under the bed and upside down, but it’s now loaded down with text messages. Every single one of them is from Noel. I quickly open my phone, clicking the messages app, I open the one with his name, but don’t bother to read any of the twenty-seven that came through during the night. The only one that catches my eye is the one that says he’s coming to Los Angeles. Fuck my life. I quickly put in a call to my assistant and ask her to spend the day at the house with a locksmith changing the locks and making sure the cameras for the security system are running. This may sound over the top and possibly a bit paranoid, but when it comes to Noel, I’m taking no chances. I’ve already changed the alarm code along with the code to the entrance gate, and I’m even starting to think I should find some place else to live. But I can’t focus on that today because we’re shooting another big stunt scene and while I hit the last one on the first take, I’m not expecting that to be the norm. The lead in this film is known for being flighty and late, and with tens of thousands of dollars a day flying out the door and my name on the line, I can’t

have one mistake. I worry that Noel will be my mistake.

I arrive on set several hours before filming actually begins, checking to see the crew and the team of grips have things moving along and set up. I check in on the makeup artists and to my surprise both the lead and the stuntman are in makeup chairs and nearly finished. They’re both sporting matching prosthetics with a wrench that appears to be coming out of their foreheads. It’s quite a sight and when I wrote this scene I had such a vivid image of it that I drew it out. The makeup artists have nailed it. Paul nods his head slightly at me, giving me a small smile and greeting me with, “Good morning, director.” There’s something in his words that’s playful but not too much. “Good morning, Paul,” I answer back, not lingering too long on his words. I turn to Ian Hudson, the male lead and the guy Paul is stunting for and give him the same greeting. “I’ve worked with your husband,” Ian says, not looking up at me as the makeup artist continues. His words echo in my head making me wonder if he’s one of the people who is on Noel’s side and I struggle to respond. Playing my own words over silently before I speak them aloud. “That’s nice.” “Oh really.” “What movie was that on?” But everything I hear myself say comes out of my mouth with a bitter rasp, a bite that could only be perceived as anger. “He’s a prick,” Ian adds, again, never looking up, his words stated with a deadpan air. Paul lets out a low laugh, stifling it quickly when my eyes shoot over to look at

him. “I’m divorcing him,” I say back with just as much enthusiasm. “And you’re right.” “You’re a better director than him.” “Please, it’s only been one day. This whole thing could go to shit in seconds. You’ve been on sets long enough to know that,” I tell him, a self-depreciating quality to what I’ve said. “I’ve also been on sets where the verbal abuse is out of control. You could even call it harassment,” Ian asserts, the room now filling with an awkward tension. “Some might even show up late to the set to avoid dealing with that kind of shit.” As much as I hear the words coming out of his mouth and how much I want to comment back, I refrain. In this world of lies and deceit and getting ahead, I have no idea if Noel has put this guy up to this. If he’s recording me, and when I least expect it, it will be used against me. I stay quiet, but not too quiet, not revealing enough to make it obvious I’m talking about Noel. “I’ve heard that about some movie sets, but I think on this one we’ll all try our best to behave with nothing but professionalism, because that’s what we all are. Professionals.” Ian shoots me a side eye but says nothing more and as I’m about to turn and walk out the door, I watch Paul wink at me. My cheeks suddenly grow hot and I feel like a teenage girl. This is completely ridiculous. I need to get back to doing what I know best and that’s directing. It’s not flirting or attempting to flirt with the on set stuntman.

Chapter Eight

Paul

“Cut!” Sadie yells, a hand up as though to tell us all to stay in place before she removes her headphones and walks over to the first of the stunt guys lining the boardwalk down by the beach. I watch as she says something to him and he nods in response, before moving onto the next person, Caitlyn, who’s standing in for one of the female actresses on the set. I’m not sure what the problem is, but Sadie’s talking to all of us. I’m last in line and farthest away and she glances over at me, before looking back at the camera crew. Shaking her head, she turns back to me and starts jogging over, my eyes on her the whole time, a half smile on my face and weird feeling in my chest as she moves toward me. When she eventually reaches me, my smile widens. “Hey,” I say. Sadie holds up a finger as she tries to catch her breath, her hands on her knees. I chuckle. “I see that whole not going to the gym thing is really working out well for you.” Sadie shoots me a side eye as she finally catches her breath and straightens. “Ha ha, smart ass,” she murmurs. I wink before asking, “What’s the problem, boss?” as I motion to the row of stunt actors. Sadie shakes her head. “Those guys are out of sequence,” she says, pointing to them. “You’re all good though, so…”

“So, why’d you come all the way down here then?” I ask, the smile still plastered on my face. She cocks a brow at me now, but there’s a teasingly quality to it. “Can’t play favorites now, can I?” she says. “Anyway, we’re gonna run through it again, you good?” I nod. “I’m good,” I tell her as she nods and starts to walk back to her camera. “And good to know I’m your favorite.” I can’t resist calling out to her, laughing as she shakes her head but doesn’t look back. We run through the scene a couple more times before she’s happy with the cut and calls a break on filming. While the runners all reset the scene, this time for the close up with the actors standing in our places, I wander over to the catering table to grab a bottle of water. The rest of the stunt crew head back to the trailer, but I stay outside, grabbing one of the folding chairs and taking a seat just down from the cameras. Sadie glances over at me and I smile, before she turns back and focuses on the film. She gets things set in place, adjusting the lighting and moving with the camera as it pans across the boardwalk before moving closer to the main actors for the shots of their faces that will be intercut with the action scenes we just filmed. It’s an interesting process and one that’s hard to visualize until you see everything cut together on the big screen. Often when it’s done, even I can forget it’s me standing in for a particular scene, the editing and effects are that good. Sadie spends time chatting with each of the actors, just like she did with us, before she jogs back over to the camera crew that’s still set up for the long shots. Once again, she’s a little out of breath and I can’t resist calling out to her. “Sadie.” She turns, narrowing her eyes when she sees me sitting here grinning at her. “Here,” I say, throwing the unopened water bottle to her. She catches it, shaking her head even as a smile tugs at her mouth. “Thanks.”

She unscrews the cap and tilts her head back, taking a long sip of the water and I find myself swallowing hard too, but for different reasons. When she licks her lips though, something else happens. Something I can’t describe, and I have to look away, afraid whatever it is, is written all over my face. “Thanks,” she says, and I turn back in time to catch the half empty water bottle flying back at me. I catch it in one hand and Sadie laughs a little before she turns and gets back to the movie. They film for a couple more hours before Sadie eventually calls a wrap on the day. I watch as she chats with the assistant director before running through what I’m guessing is tomorrow’s schedule with the runners. She looks busy and distracted, so I move over to our trailer to grab my things. I know she has a million things on her mind right now and talking to me is hardly going to be on her radar. I sling my backpack over my shoulder, reminding myself that nothing is going on here between us anyway, that I can’t read too much into any of our conversations or expect her to drop everything just because I’m sitting here. Besides, I’ve just ended a serious three-year relationship and while there’s not a chance in hell Helena and I are getting back together, I’m not sure jumping into something else straightaway is a smart idea either. Not that that’s what this is, I remind myself as I walk out of the trailer. “So, I think you might be right about the gym.” I turn and see Sadie standing by the table outside our trailer. I smile, chuckling a little as I say, “Sorry, what did you just say?” Sadie rolls her eyes, even as a smile tugs at her lips. “You might have been right about the gym,” she repeats with mock annoyance. Now it’s me laughing as I pull my phone from my pocket and call up the website of the gym I go to here in Los Angeles. I snap a screenshot of the address as I glance up at Sadie and ask, “What’s your number?”

She raises a brow, a slight flush darkening her cheeks as she licks her lips and swallows hard. “Ahh, um…” “I’m sending you the address of my gym,” I say, as though this is no big deal. “I’m there most mornings. You can text me when you want to go and I’ll get you started on a program if you want?” Sadie’s brow narrows as she says, “When you say mornings, what time are you talking?” I smile. “Depends on filming, but sixish?” “Shit.” I laugh. “We can start this weekend if you want?” I suggest. “Maybe a little later?” Sadie nods and then recites her cell number. I save her in my s before sending the info on my gym, her phone pinging with the sound of my incoming text. She glances down at the screen as she murmurs a quiet, “Thanks.” I want her to text me back so I have her number too, but she doesn’t. She just locks the screen before sliding her phone back into her pocket.

The rest of the week es slowly. I hit the gym each morning, a small part of me hoping to hear from Sadie or maybe even see her there, but she never texts or shows. The days are spent filming a complicated action sequence that doesn’t leave us a lot of time for chatting either, although we aren’t ignoring each other. Most of the time she’s still working as I’m leaving, and I can only imagine what sort of hours she’s pulling as she throws everything she’s got into making this movie. It doesn’t surprise me that getting up early to hit the gym is the last thing on her mind. By the time Saturday finally rolls around though, I wake early, my body jacked with excitement at the possibility I might see her today. It’s weird and makes no

sense, especially when I know this is nothing more than me helping out a work colleague. Even if I know my lame excuse sounds like total bullshit. Still, she’s in the middle of a divorce. I’ve just ended a long-term relationship. There’s not a chance in hell either of us is ready to jump into something new. “Hey, Paul,” Greg, the guy who’s been behind the front counter since the day I started coming here, calls out. “Morning,” I reply as I move through to the gym and over to the cardio machines. It’s only eight o’clock and I know even if Sadie does show, it probably won’t be this early, but I need to do something, if only to burn off this nervous energy I can’t seem to shake. After I smash out thirty minutes on the treill, I move through to the weight room, music blaring through the pods in my ears as I try to focus on what I’m doing and not obsessively checking my phone for a text from her. Just as I’m about to do some bench presses though, the music is interrupted by the sound of an incoming text and I nearly drop the bar on my chest in my rush to check it.

Unknown number: so I’m here and I literally have no idea what I’m doing… please tell me you’re here too? Unknown number: it’s Sadie btw Smiling, I immediately save her number to my s, before replying. Me: I’m impressed. Hang tight and I’ll be right there.

I grab my things and head over to the front reception where Sadie stands, dressed in a pair of tight leggings and a loose tank top that does nothing to hide the sports bra underneath.

She’s standing nervously by the counter while Greg does his best to flirt with her, oblivious to the fact that Sadie is looking everywhere but at him. “Hey,” I say, smiling. Sadie turns to face me, her eyes immediately giving me a quick once over. “You’ve already worked out?” I shrug. “Some,” I tell her. “But that’s cool. This is about helping you out,” I add, giving her a wink before turning to Greg. “Got a friend here who’s thinking about g up. Okay if I take her through and run through some stuff with her?” Greg glances from me to Sadie and then back to me again, apparently realizing his flirting was pointless. “Sure thing,” he says. I tilt my head in the direction of the gym and Sadie follows, a cautious look on her face as she whispers, “I’m thinking about g up?” Chuckling, I reply, “Aren’t you?” Sadie takes a deep breath before letting it out in a long slow exhale. “I’m not sure,” she says. “It depends on if I survive this first trip.” Laughing, I nudge her shoulder as I say, “We’re here to make you tougher, Sadie, not kill you.” Sadie mumbles something I don’t catch as we walk over to the treills. “Let’s start with a warm-up,” I say, indicating the treill next to mine. “What exactly is a warm-up?” she asks, as she hangs her towel over the bar and sticks her water bottle in the holder. “A quick thirty minute run and then we can move onto something fun.” “Okay, hold up,” she says, a hand up as if to stop me. “First of all, there is nothing quick about running for thirty minutes,” she says, giving me a sideways glance. “And second, what the hell could possibly be fun in a place like this?”

Shaking my head, I laugh as I indicate she should do some stretches before she starts to run. “You’ll see,” I tell her. To her credit, she does run for thirty minutes, even if it’s at a much slower pace than me. She doesn’t talk much, her gaze intently focused on the timer in front of her, almost as though she’s willing the minutes to hurry up. When she finally reaches thirty, she slams on the stop button, her pace immediately slowing as the treill comes to a stop. Shaking my head, I hit the cool down button as I say, “Usually we cool down at the end, not just stop.” She looks at the display on my treill, her chest heaving as she tries to get her breathing under control, before she looks up at me. “I’ll that next time,” she finally gets out, before getting off her treill and waiting for me to finish. When I’m done, we grab our things and Sadie follows me as we wind our way through the weight room and out to the back rooms. We end up in a huge room where there are rows of punching bags and speedballs down one side and a couple of boxing rings down the other. Turning, I see her take it all in, her eyes wide with what looks like excitement and a huge smile on her face. Laughing, I ask, “Better?” “Hell yeah,” she says, walking up to one of the punching bags, her hand already curled into a fist. “Whoa,” I call out, grabbing her wrist just as she moves to punch the bag. “These things are fucking hard, Sadie, you need gloves!” She looks up at me, before turning back to the bag and prodding it with her other hand. Her face blanches when she realizes just how hard it is and I tug on her wrist, pulling her with me toward the gloves and pads that are in containers against the wall. “Come on, Rocky,” I tease. “Let’s just start with some light sparring first.”

I get her fitted with some gloves before slipping the pads onto my hands and holding them up to her. After I show her a couple of moves and combinations, I plant my feet on the ground and tell her to go for it. Sadie punches the first pad hard and fast, letting out a satisfied grunt that has me laughing. Her eyes flash to mine before refocusing on the pads, which she then proceeds to pummel with the kind of fierce determination I can only imagine builds up being married to a prick like her husband. She moves around with me, her feet dancing on the mats as she follows my lead, her hands moving in a series of coordinated punches. “Not too bad, Rocky,” I tell her, when she lands a three-punch combination that has her smiling. “You need a rest?” She shakes her head, sweat now dripping down her body as she continues to punch at the pads. My eyes follow a single bead of sweat that starts at the corner of her jaw and slowly trickles down her neck, over her collarbone and disappears between her breasts. I swallow hard, feeling strangely turned on. My arm drops just as Sadie throws her fist, the punch landing right on my chest. “Ugh, shit,” I say, laughing a little as I stumble backward. “Oh my god! Are you okay?” she asks, stepping toward me. Laughing, I hold my hands up. “I’m good. That was my bad, seriously.” “I didn’t hurt you?” she asks, concerned. I shake my head. “No, Rocky, it’s all good,” I tell her. “You had enough for today?” I ask, half hoping she says no, because I most certainly have not had enough of watching her. Sadie glances up at the clock on the wall, a shocked look on her face when she s it’s now eleven o’clock. “Time flies when you’re having fun, doesn’t it?” I ask, chuckling a little.

She turns back to me. “I can’t believe I’ve been here for two hours,” she says. “It’s, it’s been…fun.” Laughing, I throw the pads down before moving to unstrap the gloves from her hands. “Told you.” Sadie nods, a look of disbelief on her face as she looks up at me. A part of me wonders if she too is hoping to continue. Swallowing hard, I hear myself asking, “You got plans for the rest of the day?” Immediately wondering what the fuck I’m thinking asking her this.

Chapter Nine

Sadie

His words stop me for a split second and luckily they do because I want to immediately answer, telling him I’m not doing anything. But I take a second and process what this all means, given what I’m dealing with Noel, and all those times he crossed the line on set. Does it really matter though? There’s nothing in either of our contracts that states we can’t spend time with the cast or crew. I have very few friends in Los Angeles besides my assistant and basically my days and nights are spent alone. It might be nice to have lunch with someone, to have someone to have a conversation with. And anyway, no one says this has to be anything more than a casual get to know you thing. But even as I think the words, I know they’re bullshit. Who am I kidding? Paul is insanely attractive. It’s something that doesn’t always happen in his line of work. Most of the time they’re just the same build and height as the actor they’re stunting for but bear no resemblance. Paul on the other hand is as attractive if not more than the lead. We rarely get days off when filming, so all I planned to do today was lounge by the pool. Over the next few weeks we’ll be filming seven days a week for at least fourteen hours a day and the idea of doing anything more than nothing seems out of character for me. “I wasn’t planning to do much,” I reply casually, but still somehow feeling giddy with excitement at the prospect of being asked. “Do you want to hike Runyon Canyon with me?” Paul asks and it takes everything in me not to laugh out loud. What is it with this guy and all this exercise? While I actually had a great time this morning, I’m not certain I’m up for adding a hike to the list too.

He must get the sense I’m contemplating things because he quickly adds, “Or we can do something else. Maybe grab a bite to eat?” His words come across as if he’s testing them, waiting for me to decline, and as much as I know I should, I don’t want to. “A bite to eat sounds great and maybe I’ll be recovered from this,” I say, motioning around the gym and rolling my eyes, “and we can take that hike you’re talking about.” “I’ve heard the view from the top is stunning,” Paul adds as if trying to lure me. “The view from my pool is stunning too,” I quip back, giving him a wink. “And I don’t have to work up a sweat to see it.” “That’s too bad,” he responds and I raise my eyebrows, questioning him. “Why’s that?” “Because watching you get all sweaty has been quite the experience.” Holy shit That was not the response I was expecting and I feel my heart hammering against my ribs. There’s no possible way my face isn’t bright red, and luckily for me I’m certain it looked like this before given the workout. What wasn’t there before is the feeling of warmth that pools heavy under my skin, making it burn, making me want something more than I’ve wanted with a guy in years. I’ve avoided this for so long. I knew I wasn’t in love with Noel, my feelings for him died years ago, but I stayed because it was easy. I stayed because it was safe. I also avoided placing myself in situations like this because I knew it wouldn’t take long for me to realize there was something better out there. I can’t respond to him, my words caught in my throat along with any air that once filled my lungs. “So are we going to lunch?” he asks when I don’t respond. He’s clearly not at all intimidated by me or my title and something about that is even hotter than the words that just came out of his mouth.

“I think we are.”

Neither of us bother showering or changing, running with the moment before it es. We just head straight to a little café with an outdoor seating area near the gym and find a small table toward the back. It’s something I’ve come to do every time I’m out. Not that I get noticed that often, but once you lose any semblance of anonymity you cling to what you have left. “So how’d you get into directing?” Paul asks, not missing a beat. Our asses have literally just touched the chairs. “My husband,” I tell him, realizing I should probably elaborate. “My soon to be ex-husband.” “Ah, yes the infamous Noel Robinson. Something about that pairing is a little surprising to me.” “I get that a lot, but it really isn’t. In this industry you end up with people who want the same things you want. At the time it was the right choice for me.” “You’re full of shit,” Paul states, calling my bluff on the bullshit line I just fed him. “I totally am. I was nineteen and all I ever wanted was to be a screenplay writer. Noel made my career. Without him I’d still be writing unseen screenplays and peddling them to anyone who would listen. I never would’ve gone into directing.” “It’s okay to it it was a mistake, but don’t undercut yourself. You had the talent even if you had some help getting to the top.” “Thanks. I guess sometimes I have a hard time seeing it that way. I’ve spent so much time in his shadow I forget I was once famous in my own right.” “Guess his behavior tends to outshine your talent.” It’s clear Paul knows who Noel is, not that it’s hard not to. You’d have to be living under a rock not to know. Every day there’s a new allegation, a new story,

a new rumor. But it all fades so quickly, because Noel has too much power. “His behavior tends to outshine everything,” I say, my tone filled with annoyance. “But enough about him. How did you get into working as a stuntman?” “I always liked to be adventurous and the idea of getting to travel for work was also appealing. I never really thought it would be something I did long-term, but the gigs started to come in and it turned out I was pretty damn good at it.” “So you like to toot your own horn too then, huh?” I tease, but knowing he’s probably one of the best I’ve ever worked with. “Well,” he says, shrugging his shoulders but not continuing. “I’m just giving you shit,” I tell him, smiling and wondering if he really thinks I find him arrogant. He doesn’t have any idea what I’ve been dealing with for the last ten years. If anything he’s far more intriguing than arrogant. He smiles back, his teeth perfectly straight and white, off set by his lightly tanned skin and pale blue eyes. Just as he’s about to speak, the waiter walks up to take our order. I quickly glance at the menu, too distracted by our conversation to decide what I want, so I order the first thing I lay eyes on. “I’ll have the avocado and corn pizza and a Diet Coke.” Paul places his order and of course he orders something healthy: a salad with salmon and some low fat dressing, but then he adds the same pizza I just ordered. “Copying me, huh?” “It sounded good and there’s nothing I love more than a girl who can spend two hours in the gym and then eat a pizza.” Boy this guy is really pushing it. He couldn’t be more perfect and I’m starting to be the one who feels self-conscious. He’s great with the one-liners and the small but sexy pickup lines. “It has avocado on. That’s like a good fat or some shit,” I reply, having nothing

on his flirty banter. “Or it just tastes good.” Or maybe you’ll taste good, I think, almost shaming myself for thinking it as I feel my cheeks begin to heat up once again. We chat a little more, talking about where we grew up and our families. It’s easy small talk but nothing about it is boring or mindless. I find Paul fascinating and the conversation flows, and before I know it, we’ve spent the last two hours chatting. The waiter drops off the bill and Paul immediately reaches for it, not even giving me a chance to look at it. “It’s on me,” he says, pulling out his wallet. “No it’s not. This wasn’t a date. You don’t have to pay for my meal,” I argue, reaching over to take the bill from him. “We can split it.” “Don’t be silly, Sadie. I’m not splitting the bill with you. You can get the next one and we’ll call it even.” The next one? I know things went well today, but I guess I never thought it would go beyond this. Technically I am his boss, but nothing about that seems to bother him. “Okay, it’s a deal, and how about I show you that view from my pool today? I was just planning to soak up some sun and have a few drinks. Care to me?” “Sounds amazing. I’ll run by my apartment and pick up a suit. You can text me your address.” “Give me an hour or so. I need to shower. My body isn’t used to all that exercise and I think I’m starting to smell.” “You go get cleaned up and I’ll met you at your house in an hour or so. Does that work?” “Perfect.”

Thirty minutes later I’m back at my house and scrambling to get out of these sweaty workout clothes. My sports bra is clinging to my sticky skin and it’s a struggle to get it off. Either that or my nervousness is making it hard to how the hell I even take my own clothes off. I can’t believe I invited him back here because I haven’t shaved my legs in at least a week. Thankfully I got a wax right before I left London or the clean up time would be far longer. I’m standing under the spray of hot water in the shower telling myself to calm the hell down. It’s not like I invited him over for anything more than sitting by the pool and I doubt he’s thinking it will be anything more either. But what if he does? And it’s that thought that makes me exfoliate, shave my legs and wash my hair all in one shower.

The bell to the gate chimes about an hour and half after I arrived home and I take a quick peek at the security camera just to make sure it’s Paul before I open it. He waves at the camera and a smile spreads across my face. I feel like a teenager inviting a boy over while my parents aren’t home, and everything about it feels ridiculous. I open the front door and watch as his car pulls up the long brick paved driveway, coming to rest a few feet shy of the walkway where I’m waiting. “Hey!” I call out, waving to him just as he did on the camera. “Holy shit. This is some house,” he calls back, turning in a three hundred and sixty degree circle to take everything in. “Like I said, the view from the pool is amazing.” Paul strides up the walk and when I step aside he walks in and again, looks around, his mouth falling open just a little. He’s dressed casually in a pair of

board shorts and t-shirt, a baseball cap on his head and a pair of aviator sunglasses now in his hand. “I can only imagine. How long have you lived here?” he asks. “We’ve owned the house for about ten years, but I haven’t lived here in at least eight. We bought it, but never really called it home. It was a place we would stay when we were in town to film a movie. We always lived in London, and before I met Noel, I lived in New York.” “So you share this house with your husband?” he asks, and there’s something in his words that strikes me as curious. Almost as if he’s wondering if Noel is here right now. “Technically we both own it, but once the divorce is finalized, he’ll get our flat in London and I’ll take the house in L.A.” “Got it.” “You don’t have to be nervous about being here. This is as much my house as it is his. More than likely I’ll sell this once the divorce is over and find something smaller, something with less maintenance.” “Why would you do that? This place is unreal and from what you say the view from outside is even better.” “Yeah, I know, but I’d like to, I don’t know…” I trail off not wanting to get too preachy about branching out on my own. “You’d like something of your own? Something that doesn’t have your ex’s name attached to it?” “Yep, exactly. Can I grab you something to drink? Water, beer, soda? Then we can go out by the pool.” Paul asks for a water and a beer, which I also grab for myself. We make our way out to the pool and just as I slide the doors open, I hear Noel bark out my name. Both Paul and I freeze, my heart dropping into my stomach, fear pushing itself up into my throat.

What the fuck is he doing here?

Chapter Ten

Paul

I glance at Sadie, who’s frozen to the spot, her eyes wide as she stares back at her husband, or ex-husband, or whatever the hell he is. Noel on the other hand looks like his head is about to explode, his eyes are wild and flicking from Sadie to me and back to Sadie again. His face is getting redder by the second as he steps toward us. “Who the fuck is this?” he spits out, his eyes never leaving Sadie. “And why the hell did you change the locks and security code?” Sadie swallows hard, her fingers twisting together in front of her as she stares back at this man who clearly scares the shit out of her. It makes my skin bristle just watching them and it takes everything I have in me not to walk up and deck the guy. She stares back at him, seemingly gathering strength for what she knows is going to be a confrontation. “What are you doing here, Noel?” she asks, her tone weary, but firm. “This is my house!” he practically shouts. Sadie shakes her head. “No, it’s not. We agreed as part of the divorce that I’d take this place and you’d keep the London home.” He rolls his eyes. “The divorce isn’t finalized yet,” he says through gritted teeth, stepping closer. “Although apparently you’ve moved on.” Now it’s Sadie rolling her eyes and even though I know none of this is my business and I should probably leave, a part of me does not want to leave her alone with this guy. I get that he’s her husband and that he supposedly has

feelings for her, but there’s just something about him that has me a little on edge. “You need to leave, Noel,” she says. “This isn’t your house anymore and what I do in my own time is none of your business.” Noel stares back at her, his face filled with anger. “Who the fuck is this guy?” he asks, flicking a hand in my direction, even though he keeps his gaze on Sadie. Without thinking too much about it, I step toward him so I’m standing just in front of Sadie. I open my mouth to speak, but before I do, Sadie answers, “Paul. Not that it’s any of your business.” Noel scoffs, rolling his eyes again as he glances over at me before turning back to her. “What, so you’re just dating randoms now,” he says sarcastically. “You don’t want to be married to me, so you’re slumming it with a nobody?” Sadie steps closer, so she’s standing beside me, both of us squaring off against him now. “Please. Leave,” she repeats, her voice firmer this time, an edge of frustration to her words. “This is just bullshit, Sadie,” Noel says, completely ignoring her request. “I can’t believe you changed the fucking locks, that you’re…” “She asked you to leave,” I finally say, unable to stomach any more of this. Noel stops, turning to look right at me. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “But was I talking to you?” I know he expects me to back down, to be threatened by his words and his reputation. Like I must know who he is and how powerful he allegedly is and of course that’s going to scare the shit out of me or something. Fat fucking chance buddy. “No, you weren’t,” I reply, meeting his stare, “but Sadie asked you to leave, so I think you should leave.” “Look, I don’t know who…” “Now,” I say, the word firm as I step even closer and get right in front of him.

Noel clenches his jaw, his eyes hard as he stares back at me. We’re similar in height, but I more than make up for it in muscle. This guy doesn’t look like he’s lifted anything heavier than a fucking cup of coffee in his entire life. “Just go, Noel,” Sadie says, echoing my request. “And please don’t walk in here like that again. You don’t live here anymore.” Noel fixes her with his gaze, his eyes hard as he points a finger at her and barks, “This isn’t fucking over, Sadie. This…” Unable to stand it anymore, I grab his wrist, yanking his arm behind his back as I get right up beside him, my mouth at his ear. “She asked you to fucking leave,” I whisper, my jaw tight and my words firm. “So unless you want me to break this arm, I’d do as she fucking says.” “Get off me,” Noel spits out, yanking his arm from my grip. I let him go immediately, hands up in mock surrender even though he and I both know I could take him down with one hand tied behind my back. Noel turns to Sadie once more, but he must sense that talking right now would not be a good move. So shaking his head, he turns and storms off down the path around the side of the house, disappearing through a tall gate that he slams shut behind him. “Fuck,” Sadie mutters, burying her face in her hands. I turn to her, see she’s trembling and without even thinking about it, I pull her toward me, wrapping my arms tightly around her. She buries her face, still covered with her hands, against my chest, her body shaking as I tighten my grip. “You okay?” I ask, despite knowing she can’t possibly be. Sadie shakes her head ever so slightly, mumbling something I don’t catch. “What did you say?” I ask, easing her back as I gently pull her hands from her face. “Sorry about that,” she says, not looking at me. “Sadie,” I murmur, my fingers under her chin as I tilt her face to mine. “How

was any of that your fault?” She shrugs, looking away as her cheeks redden. “I don’t know,” she breathes out. “You can go if you want.” I shake my head moving so I’m looking at her again. “Nope,” I tell her. “Not a chance in hell I’m leaving you here alone with that lunatic on the warpath.” A small smile tugs at her mouth and she bites her bottom lip as if to stop it. “Guess now you’ve seen his true colors.” “Pfft, please,” I say, moving my hands to her shoulders. “I’ve worked on his movies before. I know exactly what he’s like.” “You have?” she asks, surprised as she finally turns to look at me. “Yep,” I reply, giving her a smile. “I knew what he was like long before I met you, long before I signed up for your movie.” Sadie lets out a long sigh. “You know he could kill your career if he found out who you were.” I chuckle. “I’m not scared of him.” Sadie shakes her head. “You should be. He has this uncanny way of getting exactly what he wants.” I tilt my head in question. “You sure about that?” I ask her. “Because he certainly walked out of here pissed off and not getting what he wanted.” That smile tugs at her mouth again and I return it, watching as hers grows and she finally starts to relax. “Thank you,” she eventually says, blushing a little. “For what?” Sadie shrugs. “For standing up to him. For not being afraid or running a mile away like everyone else does.” “Nah,” I say, slipping my arm around her shoulders and pulling her against me. “I told you, I’m tougher than I look and he doesn’t scare me.” Sadie’s body

presses against mine, her head falling against my shoulder for a brief second before we both seemingly realize how close we are. She steps away at the same time as I remove my arm from her shoulders. “Now, about that view from your pool.”

We spend the rest of the afternoon doing exactly as she suggested—lying beside her pool, enjoying a few beers and the absolutely amazing view she has. Although truth be told, I’m not so sure it’s the view of L.A. that captures my attention so much as the view of Sadie stretched out in a red bikini beside me. Despite having claimed to have never set foot inside a gym, she’s still rocking a fantastic fucking body. Tiny and naturally slim, she creates an illusion of fragility. But having watched her throw her whole body into the boxing this morning, I know underneath all of that, there’s a strength to her, too. A strength that is a huge fucking turn on, even if it’s the last thing I should be thinking about. “Beer?” she asks, holding out a fresh bottle and interrupting my entirely inappropriate thoughts of her. “Thanks,” I reply, taking it from her. “You get things squared away with the security company?” “Yeah,” she nods, taking a seat on the lounge chair next to mine. “Obviously he managed to sweet talk them into giving him the new code to the gate. Luckily I’d already changed the locks so he couldn’t get in the house, but he won’t be getting in at all anymore.” “Good,” I say, taking a long sip of beer as I lean back, one hand tucked behind my head. “Hopefully he gets the message and leaves you alone.” Sadie scoffs. “No chance of that,” she says, shrugging when I turn to look at her. “Noel’s a man who doesn’t understand the word no,” she explains. “Even when he’s told it, he doesn’t listen. He doesn’t believe it applies to him.” I cock a brow, slipping my sunglasses onto my head. “He hasn’t ever…ever hurt

you, has he?” It’s a question I ask without even thinking and it’s quite possible I’m overstepping big time. Despite having spent most of the day hanging out with her and despite the easy conversation we seem to share, in reality, we hardly know each other. I have no idea what her life with Noel was like and whether she even still loves him. “Sorry, that was totally inappropriate and none of my business,” I say, hand up in apology. “No, it’s okay,” she says, her eyes fixed on the view in front of us. “And in answer to your question, not physically, no.” “But…” I say, seemingly unable to let this go. She shrugs. “But emotionally, psychologically…obviously,” she says, shrugging again. I shake my head in disbelief, my eyes still on Sadie as she continues to stare out at the horizon. “What are you thinking about right now?” she quietly asks, her words barely audible. I take a long deep breath, letting it out slowly before I finally answer her. “That I want to fucking kill the guy.” Sadie turns to face me now, her blue eyes hidden behind her sunglasses, but somehow still penetrating mine as she watches me. “How are you so, so…” she starts, before trailing off. She says nothing more and neither do I, as though both of us know the conversation is veering into dangerous territory now. Instead, she offers me a smile, swallowing hard before she asks, “You hungry? We could order something?” I stare back at her, not answering immediately as I continue to watch her and try to read what’s going through her head right now. About me, about her exhusband, and whatever this thing we seem to have is. “Paul?” she prompts.

“Sure,” I say, smiling. “Food sounds good.”

We order some Mexican and eat out by the pool, watching as the sun slowly sets and the lights of L.A. light up below us, creating an equally spectacular night view. By nine o’clock though, I know I should probably head home. We both have a busy couple of weeks of filming coming up and the last thing I want to do is create any drama for her with that. “I guess I should get going,” I eventually say. “Okay,” she replies and we both stand, gather up our dinner things and take them inside to the kitchen. “You going to be okay here by yourself tonight?” I ask, hoping she doesn’t read too much into my question. “I mean with…” I trail off, flicking a hand to outside as though to elaborate on what I mean. Sadie smiles up at me and it looks genuine. “Yeah, I will be,” she says. “I changed the locks, he won’t be able to get in.” “And the security code’s been changed?” I ask, even though I know she called them earlier. “Yes,” she nods. “And they’ve been told not to give it to him if he calls.” “Okay,” I reply, also nodding. “Good.” “Thank you, Paul,” she says, stepping closer as she slides her hand onto my arm. “I appreciate your help today and, well…you know.” I look down at her as she stands in front of me. She looks more relaxed now, back to how she was when we shared lunch after our workout. It makes me feel a little bit better about leaving her, even if I have no right to be even thinking about being the one to protect her. “Anytime,” I say, smiling. “And, if you ever want another session in the gym,

morning or night, just let me know.” Sadie smiles now. “Provided I can walk tomorrow of course.” I chuckle. “Yeah, you’re probably gonna be a little stiff,” I tell her, forcing myself not to think about my stiff body parts and what I’d like to do with them and her. “Make sure you have a hot bath tonight and some stretching would do you some good,” I add, inadvertently filling my brain with a million other insanely inappropriate images of her. Sadie nods as we both turn and walk toward the front door. I pause as she opens it, both of us lingering in the doorway. “Okay. Well, I’ll see you…” “Thank you,” she says again, pushing up on her toes and pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. I nod, surprised, not just at the fact she kissed me, but at my body’s response to her touch. It feels like every single nerve is simultaneously firing beneath my skin, a bolt of electricity shooting down my spine as my fingers itch with wanting to pull her closer, to kiss her back and do a whole lot more than that. But I can’t, so I don’t, instead whispering a quick, “Good night,” before walking out to my car. Shit, this is going to make the next few months interesting.

Chapter Eleven

Sadie

I figured waking up this morning I’d be sore as hell given I rarely exert that much energy, but I actually feel really good. My legs are a little stiff and my arms a little sore, but nothing that can’t be walked off during the day. I also woke up before my alarm and I don’t feel groggy as hell like usual. Maybe this exercise thing is legit? Today is a full day of shooting, but we won’t get started until after ten a.m. and we’ll run well into the night. Nighttime shoots are the hardest and unfortunately there are tons on the shooting schedule. The closing down of streets, building rentals and permits all make things difficult and this shooting schedule will be a tight one. But just like everything else I’ve put into this movie, I need it to all go well. I need a break and I need to show people who I am without Noel’s name. I’m sitting by the pool with a cup of coffee watching the sunrise and I’m hit with something I normally wouldn’t be so bold as to act on, but given the way yesterday went and Paul’s invitation, I grab my phone. While it’s still early, I have a feeling Paul will be up and probably already at the gym. I laugh a little at the thought knowing how opposite we really are, but how much I enjoy his company.

Me: You around? Feel like going for that hike you mentioned yesterday?

I set my phone down next to me, my heart racing a bit and there’s a giddy feeling of excitement fluttering in my stomach. I feel completely ridiculous and even

more, I’m now regretting sending the text. I look and sound desperate and he’s probably wondering why the hell I would text him at the crack of dawn. I scramble for my phone wondering if there’s a way to take it back since he still hasn’t responded. I’ve probably woken him up and he’s pissed off looking at his phone as it lights up in the darkness of his otherwise quiet bedroom. It’s been so long since I’ve done this, asked someone out, if that’s even what this is. I feel like a complete and total awkward failure at it. Maybe he was just being polite when he invited me to the gym? Maybe he gets some kind of discount on his hip if he brings in new people? Maybe I just look like that big of a sucker? What the hell is wrong with me? As I’m contemplating my life’s choices my phone chimes out loud startling me so much I almost toss into the pool. Pressing the phone screen against my thigh, I suck in a breath but it does nothing to calm my irrationality. Turning it over I see Paul’s name on the screen and I don’t know whether to cry or to laugh, because I’ve obviously lost my damn mind.

Paul: You sure you’re up for that hike?

His text is playful and a smile tugs at my mouth, pulling up at the corners. I spend a second trying to come up with something equally as flirty, but he texts me before I can.

Paul: Of course I’m up for it. When can you be ready? Me: Ten minutes? I can pick you up. Paul: I’ll pull it together. See you soon.

He sends me his address and I put back my coffee quickly, hopping in the shower to clean up just a little. Before I know it, I’m backing down the long driveway, through the gate and out onto the road. I’ve looked at myself in the rearview mirror more times than I can count, checking to make sure I don’t look like a total disaster, but I also don’t want to look like I spent a ton of time getting ready. I’ve never understood those girls who go to the gym in full makeup. Like I’m now some kind of expert in what should and shouldn’t be worn to workout in. But in the same breath, no one wants to look like shit. My hair is pulled to the side and braided; I put a little bronzer on over my sunscreen since I’m still so pale from the seemingly always cloudy skies of London. I’m wearing the yoga pants that I’ve never in my life done yoga in, a tank top and a hoodie. At least I look the part. I pull into the oversized complex of apartments. They’re the kind that are all over the outskirts of L.A. They’re the kind of places where people who are just here for a contract job or to try their hand at the whole acting thing live. It’s unit after unit of tiny one-bedroom places, but the prices are good and when you know you’re not staying, they’re perfect. In a way I feel a little guilty that Paul is living here when I have so much space in my house. Honestly, I feel badly this is where most of my crew is probably living. Noel always hated when I mentioned these things to him, reminding me that we’ve worked hard to get where we are. But I’ve always felt the crew works harder than anyone. One of the things I did when I signed on for this movie was to create bonuses for the crew based off the profits of the movie. So basically they’ll get residuals just as an actor or actress does. All I need is this movie to do as well as the movies I’ve made with Noel and these people will receive a small percentage of that yearly. I drive through the parking lot slowly, my window rolled down as I look at the numbers on the buildings, trying to locate Paul’s. I reach the end of the parking lot, but still nothing. Turning back around, I finally see him flagging me over from an empty parking spot. “Hey!” he calls out, a huge smile on his face as I pull up alongside where he’s standing. “I figured that was you cruising through the parking lot all slow and

creepy.” “That’s me, slow and creepy,” I joke as he climbs in and buzzes down his window. “You’re far from either of those things,” he quips back, and damn him and his simple words that make my heart rattle in my chest. “So, is this hike going to be hard? Like am I going to be huffing and puffing like a rhinoceros?” I ask, changing the subject. Paul chuckles a little, a dimple appearing in the corner of his cheek when he smiles. I look away, feeling my cheeks warm in his presence. “The longest hike is just over three miles so I think we’re going to be okay here,” he responds. “Three miles definitely sounds doable as long as we’re not actually scaling the side of a mountain.” Paul glances down at his watch, chewing on his bottom lip a little as if he’s contemplating something. “I’m not sure we’ll be able to do the full three miles, but there are plenty of other hikes we can do. I gotta make sure I get to work on time. My boss is a real hardass.” “Really? Because she kinda feels like an imposter,” I it, suddenly wondering why the hell I let these words slip from my mouth. Up until now this thing Paul and I had going on was surface-level and playful and not all open issions of insecurities. It also makes me sound like I’m fishing for compliments, which is totally the last thing I’m looking for. I guess after all this time I’m just looking for someone to it the truth to, someone who will just listen and not judge me the way Noel would have. “Don’t we all feel that way at one point or another?” he asks, shrugging his shoulders. “What you’re doing is new, but at the same time something you’re good at. There’s a lot riding on it. It’s natural to feel that way.” “You never give off the imposter vibe,” I tell him, especially after watching what a natural he is on a movie set. For most people it takes a few days to get

comfortable, but he was right from the start. Always working for different people and learning all their quirks can be hard, but Paul came in with the confidence of someone who rarely makes a mistake. “Then I hide it well. I work in a job where if I’m not confident in what I do the job goes to someone else. Everything I do can be done by someone younger, someone smarter, someone in better shape. It can all disappear in seconds. I continue to be grateful that I have steady work every day.” “I feel like that’s any job in this industry and I guess we’re all just walking around feeling like losers.” I laugh a little, trying to make my self-deprecation endearing. “No one’s a loser. Well, maybe your ex-husband is, but it’s not because of his job,” Paul jokes and I nod my head. At this point all I can do is laugh at all the bullshit with Noel. “We’re all just trying to get by. We all have our own struggles and we all feel inadequate at times.” His words are kind and comionate, making me swallow back the lump that forms in my throat. He understands what it’s like to struggle, and I feel nothing but understanding from him. “You might not be saying that when you watch me try to hike this canyon,” I say, once again bring back that self-deprecation to mask my insecurities. If I joke about it, it makes it easier. “Nah, you’ll do great. I mapped out a few things this morning since I don’t think we’ll be doing the full hike.” He lifts up from the car seat, pulling a map from his pocket and opening it. “So there’s one hike that’s about a mile and a half and another one that’s just under two miles.” “Either of those sound good,” I tell him, not really knowing enough about the area to make a decision. “Both of them will allow us an awesome view and we’ll get to see the Hollywood sign, but the one that is slightly longer will let us see the ruins from the properties that used to be there.” “Let’s do the longer one then. Who doesn’t like interesting shit while hiking, and it’ll give us a reason to stop when I’m wheezing like I’ve smoked a pack of

Marlboro Reds.” “I think you’re cutting yourself short,” he says, reaching over and tucking a few loose strands of hair behind my ear. His touch feels like an electric shock to my sensitive skin, sending a jolt through my whole body. I can’t bring myself to respond, my eyes focused on the road as we drive toward the entrance to the park. We park on the street and walking side by side, the conversation somewhat stilted but not awkward as we start our hike.

We chat intermittently as we hike and I’m not nearly as winded as I joked about. The weather is beautiful and while there are more people here than I would’ve thought, it’s still far less busy than if we had arrived a few hours later. “I’ve heard this is a great place to spot celebrities,” I tell Paul and he starts laughing, his hands on his hips as he cackles and shakes his head. “You are a celebrity, Sadie and you’ve worked with some of the biggest names in Hollywood.” “Yeah, I guess I was just making conversation,” I it, sheepishly, suddenly feeling awkward. It was a completely stupid thing to say given our jobs. “You don’t have to make conversation with me. We can just stand in silence if you want. I enjoy being around you regardless.” The words catch in my throat and I struggle with what to say to him. He’s effortless and natural in what he says to me, his flirting comes easily and it makes me wonder if he does this type of thing often. How many girls has he met on sets and taken to the gym or taken on hikes? Pretended to enjoy their company. But then I his comment when we first met about being cheated on and now I’m trying to figure out if I’m the rebound. “What are you thinking about?” Paul asks, and I realize I’ve fallen silent. “Nothing,” I reply, shaking my head, clearing my thoughts, my irrational and stupid thoughts.

“I’m not certain I believe that, but I’ll let it go,” Paul says eyeing me suspiciously as he walks backward toward a pile of broken rocks. “See these rocks?” He motions to them with a flourished exaggeration and stands proudly in front of them. “Yep, I see them. Are you their spokesperson or something?” I narrow my eyes at him and wait. “These are the ruins of a Frank Lloyd Wright and a Lloyd Wright pool house.” He places one foot on a large piece of the crumbled ruins and puts his hands on his hips like I should be proud he knows this random fact. “Seriously? It’s a pile of rubble.” “It is, but let me tell you how it ended up here.” “Please do. I’d love to hear this,” I respond, a teasing tone in my voice. “So way back in the 1920s Runyon Canyon was owned by some famous Irish tenor and he built a big ass mansion on the land. Lived here and all that shit. Eventually sold it to the A&P Grocery Store heir who lived in the old mansion, but decided he wanted to add a pool house and some studio apartments. He hired Frank Lloyd Wright.” “Like the Frank Lloyd Wright?” “Yep, that same guy.” “So what happened to the mansion and everything?” I ask, intrigued by his story, but even more interested in how he knows all this. “It was bulldozed to make room for a luxury subdivision, but the city of Los Angeles was like hell no.” “How do you know this pile is the Frank Lloyd Wright’s pile of rocks?” “It’s not. It’s his son’s. Geez, Sadie keep up.” He rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh in mock annoyance. “All that was left after the demolition were stone foundations. Then a big ass fire came through here and devastated everything else.”

“Again, how do you know that this…” Paul cuts me off, stepping closer to me, again reaching up and pushing those stray hairs behind my ear. “Just go with it, Sadie. It’s supposed to be fun.” “So you’re telling me none of this is true?” “No, it’s true, but who knows if this is rubble from the mansion or the pool house or the apartments. There’s even an abandoned pool and someone owns the single house that is still here in the canyon. It’s for sale for some crazy amount of money. Regardless it’s a pretty cool story.” “It is. How do you know all this?” I ask, my curiosity now piqued. “Once when I was filming in L.A. I took a guided tour hike and the guide told us all the salacious details. He was much better at it than I am. You got the abridged edition.” He shrugs his shoulders and gives me a cheesy grin. “I should’ve known you’d be the kind of dork to combine history and exercise.”

Chapter Twelve

Paul

“Come on, Sadie,” I say, laughing a little. “Harder. Give it to me, really give it to me.” Sadie stops, her arm pausing mid-punch. “You do realize how dirty that sounds, right?” Chuckling, I raise a brow, tapping her glove with my pad as if to encourage her to continue. “What and a bit of dirty talk means you stop defending yourself? God, that’s kinda easy, isn’t it?” Bam. She pulls back and whacks the pad in my right hand with a hard punch. “Yes!” I half shout, laughing. “That’s it. Come on, again! Harder.” Bam, bam, bam. Again, she hits the pad, this time with a left, right, right combo that we’ve been working on. She doesn’t stop there either, continuing her assault as I try to stop myself from laughing at the sheer grit and determination that’s now written all over her face. “Okay, okay,” I say, hands up as I take a step back. “Time out.” Now it’s Sadie cocking a brow at me. “What, don’t tell me you’re done?” she asks, surprised. We’ve been working out together like this for the past three weeks now. Alternating between sessions in the gym or hiking in the hills each morning before we start filming. It helps that we are starting the shoots late and running well into the night, but to be honest, I’d thought that first morning would be a

one and done. But every day since then, Sadie has texted me asking if I want to work out. And every morning, I’ve texted back the same answer, neither of us actually discussing the whys of what we’re doing here. I’m definitely not thinking about what this means either, or how glad I am to get that text message each morning. “Wow,” I say, smiling. “And to think you used to hate the gym once.” Sadie shrugs. “Yeah, maybe, but not so much anymore.” I stop, a pad up to my ear as though I didn’t hear her. “I’m sorry, what was that?” Sadie rolls her eyes even though she’s smiling as she mock punches me in the stomach this time. “Fine, you were right. It is addictive.” “Ha!” I half shout, my hands up in the air. “She its it. I. Was. Right. Whoo hoo!” Sadie laughs even as she shakes her head at me. “Come on, are we going again or what?” I glance up at the clock on the wall, wishing we could. “We probably shouldn’t,” I say, gesturing toward it. “Don’t wanna be late for work,” I add with a wink. “And I’ve still gotta head home and shower.” Sadie pauses, her gloved hands hanging by her sides as she looks up at me. “I told you you could shower at my place,” she says, reminding me of the slightly awkward conversation we had two days ago when she first brought this up after I had to cut our workout time short. “I don’t mind, Paul and it’s closer to work. Saves you doubling back.” “I know.” “So why don’t you?” I shrug. “I don’t know,” I tell her, even though I know there are a million

reasons. She bites her bottom lip. “Do you have your stuff with you?” I nod. I’ve been bringing it with me since she brought it up, even knowing I wasn’t sure I’d ever take her up on her offer. “Yeah.” “So,” she says, clapping her gloved hands together. “Let’s quickly go again and then we can head home to shower,” she adds, not looking at me now as she focuses her gaze on the pads in my hand. It’s hard to tell if she’s red from her workout or blushing from the suggestion and the new change to our morning routine.

“Sadie Washington?” an accented voice calls as we walk out of the gym. We both stop and I watch as Sadie turns toward the man who’s clearly been waiting for her to come outside. “Who are you?” she asks. He steps toward her, a friendly smile on his face as he holds his hands up in a way that signifies he isn’t here to create trouble. Doesn’t stop me from moving a little closer to her though. “Roger Collins, I’m with The Guardian, I’ve tried to…” “I know who you are,” Sadie says, cutting him off. “And I’m not interested.” “Please, Sadie,” he says, hand out as though to stop her. I instinctively move so my body is half in front of Sadie’s. “She said she wasn’t interested.” He glances up at me, giving me a quick once over as though trying to work out who I am. I’m sure he sees me as nothing more than her personal trainer, but I don’t care. “Look, I’m not trying to create trouble,” he continues, turning back to her. “But I wanted to reach out personally, see if maybe we could discuss the story I’m

writing. I know Ava Bristol has told you about me. Has…” “She has,” Sadie cuts in. “And I know she’s in London and not involved in any of this.” Roger shakes his head. “That’s not true,” he says. “She’s been very helpful and she’s most definitely still involved. A lot of people are.” I glance at Sadie, wondering what this is about, but she’s still watching this Roger guy, a wary look on her face as though she isn’t sure whether to believe him or not. “Please, just take my card,” he says, holding it out to her. “Talk to Ava. Talk to Elizabeth. Talk to Anne Marie.” Sadie flinches at this last name and even though I know this is none of my business, I step in. “Okay, she’s got your card. She knows how to you. How about you leave now.” Roger glances up at me and again I see the questions on his face as though he wonders who the hell I am. He doesn’t say anything though, just nods once before turning to walk away. Just as I’m about to ask if Sadie is okay, he stops, turning back to both of us. “This is bigger than you and him, Sadie. It isn’t really even about you and him.” Sadie nods, her eyes watching as he finally turns and walks away. “You okay?” She turns to me, nodding, but not looking at me. “Yeah, I’m okay.” “You wanna talk about it?” She shakes her head, pulling the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands. “Not here,” she says quietly. I nod and we both walk toward our cars. “You want to follow me?” she asks, still not quite meeting my gaze.

I smile at her across the roof of my car. “Sure,” I say, even though I where she lives and how to get there. Sadie nods once before sliding into her car.

When we reach her house, she leads me down the hall to a bedroom. “There’s a bathroom through there,” she says, obviously feeling a little awkward as she gestures to a door on the far side of the room we’re now standing in. “Towels are in the closet, help yourself to soap and whatever else.” “Thanks,” I say, trying to meet her eyes. Sadie nods once, still not looking at me as she turns and walks out of the room. I have no idea where her bedroom is and as I strip off my sweaty workout clothes, I try not to think about her doing the exact same thing wherever she is in this huge house. My body apparently fails to get the memo though, and as I step into the warm shower, I reach for the faucet, adjusting the water temperature to something a little colder than the current setting. I will not take advantage of this situation by rubbing one out while fantasizing about the very woman whose house I’m currently showering in. The same woman who is also somewhere in this house, very likely naked and showering too. “Fuck,” I murmur as I force myself to stand beneath the cold water, my eyes scrunched shut as I try to think about anything other than Sadie naked. It doesn’t really work though, and in the end, I switch the hot water off completely and wash in cold water, punishing my body for not getting with the program here. When I finally convince it to calm the fuck down, I shut off the water and get out. I grab a towel from the closet, actually groaning out loud at how soft it is and dry off before wandering back into the bedroom to get dressed. After I’m done, I head into the kitchen. Sadie isn’t around but the card this guy gave her outside the gym is sitting on the counter.

Roger Collins Investigative Journalist The Guardian Newspaper

You don’t have to be a genius to wonder what this guy wants from her and it doesn’t surprise me that she wants no part of it either. From what I can gather, Sadie is doing her best to separate herself from her idiot ex-husband to prove she is her own person and can make it without his help. The last thing she needs is to be dragged into his mess again. With Sadie still not around, I move over to the coffee machine and get some brewing. By the time it’s done, Sadie still hasn’t shown, so I pour myself a cup and take a seat at the island, pulling my phone from my pocket and googling this Roger Collins guy. “He’s doing a story on Noel.” Glancing up, I see Sadie standing in the doorway, dressed in worn jeans and a black top, her wet hair pulled into a knot on the top of her head. “I gathered that,” I say, sliding off my stool and pouring her a cup of coffee. “Thanks,” she says, taking the cup from my hands and taking a seat next to me at the island. “He’s asked me to comment, to help out for months now,” she adds, her eyes on his card. “I can understand why you wouldn’t want to,” I tell her. “The press isn’t exactly known for their honesty or impartial reporting,” I add, knowing I’ve seen enough bullshit stories come out about alleged incidents on movie sets I’ve worked on that just weren’t true. Sadie shrugs. “No, but it seems this might be different.” “In what way?” I ask. We’re sitting side by side, neither of us looking at each other as we have this conversation.

“He’s not trying to write some sensationalist piece,” she says. “It’s something bigger, something that could potentially end Noel’s career for good. That’s what Noel’s former assistant says anyway.” I nod. “So what’s this story about then?” Sadie takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly before she lifts her cup to her mouth and takes a small sip. “I think there’s a few angles, but it all comes down to Noel using his money and his power to get what he wants.” I tilt my head, watching her. “All of which is true,” I say gently. Sadie nods. “I know. Apparently there’s some other stuff about actresses and nude scenes and…” she stops, her head falling a little. I feel my body tense because I’ve heard these rumors too. I’d even seen things on set that I knew didn’t feel quite right. “And you don’t want to get dragged into it all because you’re afraid of how it will make you look?” I ask. Sadie doesn’t lift her head, but I don’t miss the small nod of acknowledgement. “Sadie,” I say gently, my hand resting on her shoulder. “This isn’t your fault, you know? I mean I know you were married to the guy, but you aren’t responsible for his actions.” I feel her inhale. “I know,” she murmurs. “But people will still think that. They’ll think I was okay with it all because I was with him. They’ll think I’m a part of it.” I squeeze her shoulder. “So tell them you aren’t okay with it all. Tell them you didn’t know.” She lifts her head, her blue eyes, which are filled with sadness, meeting mine. “So, you think I should talk to this journalist?” I shrug, my gaze never leaving hers. “I don’t know,” I tell her. “But maybe it’s at least worth listening to what he has to say.”

Sadie stares up at me, her eyes wide as they search my face. “How are you so… so normal?” she suddenly asks. I laugh, shaking my head as I remove my hand from her shoulder. “Who says I’m normal?” I ask her. “Pretty sure my sister would be the first to tell you I’m a total weirdo.” “No, you’re not,” she says, shaking her head. “You’re normal and you’re nice and I don’t…” she pauses, takes a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t get what you…what you want from me in all this?” Now it’s me pausing, taking a deep breath as I consider how to answer her. “I like hanging out with you,” I eventually say, shrugging as though this is no big deal. “I think we have fun, don’t we?” But I’m suddenly wondering if Sadie thinks I have some ulterior motive in all of this. As though I’m using her somehow, for my own gain or to take advantage of her. None of which is true. What is true, is how much I do like hanging out with her, even if I refuse to acknowledge that it might actually be more than that. A smile tugs at Sadie’s mouth now, lifting the corners a little until she finally gives in to it. “Yeah, we do,” she says, laughing a little. “And I certainly have fun kicking your ass in the gym.” I burst out laughing, the weight now lifting off my chest. “Kicking my ass,” I mutter, shaking my head in mock disbelief. “Not quite there yet, Rocky,” I tease. Sadie smirks at me. “But I will be one day, right?” I chuckle. “Yes, yes. One day you will indeed be able to kick my ass and bring me to my knees.”

Chapter Thirteen

Sadie

We’re back to early shoots on the set and when I arrive today, I’m trying to mask the anger and disappointment that’s written all over my face. I’ve never been good at lying nor have I ever been good at hiding my feelings. I feel like my eyebrows have been knitted together from the moment I woke and now I have permanent eleven marks embedded between my eyes. This is what being married to Noel has done to me: a constant state of anxiousness, anger and disappointment. What I came across this morning all but killed the enjoyment I felt hanging out with Paul yesterday. Spending time with him makes me feel normal, like I actually deserve to have people who treat me well. On a daily basis I was told by Noel that people only liked me because of my job, because of my name and because I was married to him. With Paul I feel like he doesn’t care who I am, but I guess people can be great at pretending. I try to push this thought from my head, hoping I’m a far better judge of character than that. “I told you should have started getting Botox years ago,” my assistant Shannon says, sidling up next to me as I rage-stir my coffee. “A frozen face can’t show emotion.” I roll my eyes but laugh a little at her. She’s right. Maybe a little Botox would hide my perpetual bitch face. “By looking at your face I’m guessing you saw the article,” Shannon adds. I nod my head, trying to control my urge to just unload on her, but also knowing I’m on set with the eyes and ears of hundreds of people. “How?” I ask, not really wanting an answer, but still somehow begging the

universe to answer me. “How the hell,” I start, my voice unnaturally loud and I quell it looking around to make sure no one heard me. “How the hell is he still getting work? And seriously, the biggest fucking trilogy…” My words trail off, catching in my throat as a few extras begin to file onto the set. I tug a hand through my hair, my eyes starting to well with tears at the thought of Noel making the comeback he always claimed he would. The article, or should I say articles, paint a far different picture than what I’ve come to know, and have now thrust Noel back into the spotlight. He’s been signed on to direct the biggest movies of the year or possibly the decade. They originally started out as a dystopian book series and when they skyrocketed, movie deals and production studios clambered to grab on first. Noel’s production studio jumped on the bandwagon despite the drama that continued to surround him. They began to squash all the negativity with stories of blowing these books up into the next Hunger Games and while I don’t doubt they will, Noel doesn’t deserve this kind of exposure. The public is still torn, with some people siding with Noel and others siding with these women and men who have spoken out against him. The trouble is most of these people who have told their stories had already become no one, making them look like attention-seekers and money-hungry, and that’s exactly how Noel’s lawyers have spun this. There have been stories of harassment, verbal and physical abuse, but I know this isn’t all that exists and I’ve intentionally left myself in the dark. The further I get from him and his past, the better off I will be. It’s only a matter of time before The Guardian’s reporter Roger busts out his long-time and heavily researched story and my life is turned upside down. After these reports of Noel’s production company scoring the next big series and him subsequently being named director, the tabloids will be clawing to find me, to get my thoughts on it all. And they’d love to know what I’m really thinking. I’m thinking this will just overshadow anything I do with this movie. I’ll be hounded for the next few days or weeks with reporters wanting the gossip, wanting to hear me trash my soon to be ex. But all of this will take away from the first project I’ll be directing on my own, and eventually it will lead to me

feeling guilty for branching out. When the stories first started about Noel several months back, I went into hiding. I hated there were people that suffered because of him and I felt connected to that on some level. I did nothing to stop what I knew was happening and what I didn’t know I left that way. Even running back to The States made me feel guilty, like I didn’t somehow deserve the anonymity that the massiveness of Los Angeles provides or the quiet controlled environment of my movie set. “Don’t be jealous,” Shannon onishes, as if that’s the reason for my anger. “One day he’ll get his comeuppance.” She’s way too casual since she knows exactly what he’s like, but I get it. There’s no sense in getting worked up over something I have no control over. “Just separate yourself from him and you’re doing that.” “Yeah, I know, but he just pisses me off so badly.” I childishly stomp my foot, my hands clenched into fists as I turn to storm back to my trailer to wallow for a few more minutes, but as I turn I collide with something hard. My coffee sloshes out of the tiny hold in the lid, managing to cover the white tshirt I have on but narrowly missing the guy now standing in front of me. “Hey, sorry about that, boss,” Paul says, his perfectly aligned white teeth grinning back at me. Of course he looks stunning and not at all crabby and covered in coffee like me. “No, no, it’s my fault,” I quickly say, grabbing for some napkins and blotting at my shirt. Again I feel the tears begin to pool in my eyes. What the hell is wrong with me? You okay?” Paul asks, as he runs a sympathetic hand down my arm and luckily Shannon is called away before she can give me shit about crying and about Paul. “Oh my god, I’m crying over spilled coffee,” I say, swiping at my eyes and putting on a smile. “Just a rough morning. It’s nothing.” I flit a hand around, brushing it off.

“You know it’s okay to be pissed off about him,” Paul says, despite us rarely talking about my life with Noel. “I saw the article,” he its, giving me a ive smile, “but that has nothing to do with you and what you’re accomplishing here.” “Thanks. Sometimes it’s hard,” I it, starting to pull myself back together knowing I need to start filming in a few minutes and I can’t let Noel’s bullshit cloud my talent. “I’m sure it is, but you know what?” “What?” I ask, playing Paul’s game and starting to what our day was like yesterday. “I bet he doesn’t make a coffee-stained t-shirt look as good as you do.” “Paul,” I say, my voice filled with a warning and he smirks wickedly. “I like flirting with you, Sadie. It makes you smile, so unless you tell me to stop, I’m going to keep doing it.” He gives me a wink and I stand there, a stupid smile on my face, my cheeks flushing and unsure of what to say. And with that he walks away, meeting up with our stunt coordinator.

We’re an hour into shooting and any thoughts about Noel and his big news have been shoved from my brain and all I can think about is Paul. I’m distracted, but in the best possible way. I’ve now looked through the camera for a third time making sure the scene is set and the lighting is good, but I keep forgetting what I’m supposed to be checking. “Something wrong?” Tony the cameraman asks, when I lean over his shoulder for the fourth time. “No, not at all,” I reply, with my eyes still focused on the scene in front of me. Everyone is positioned, but something doesn’t feel right. While it’s not a major scene of the movie, it does have a few stunts. “You’re placed perfectly, but…” I stop short and call for the cast to hold up.

They all relax, shoulders falling in unison and they begin chatting while I try to make the vision inside my head appear in front of me. Originally, I had the male lead jumping out a window and running from the police, but I think it would work better if he were to jump from the window to the building next door. Since this is a set, we can adjust everything in a matter of an hour. “Okay,” I call out. “We’re going to change things up just a little, so I need to meet with several of you and get everything squared away.” I ask everyone to meet in the production office so we can all sit around the table and talk out what I want. I head back to my trailer to grab an extra script and my computer so I can create some 3D mockups of what I want the other building to look like. I really just need a shell of a building anyway, but the outside needs to have the window match up to the window the character will be jumping from. As I’m about to pull the door to my trailer open, I hear Paul call my name. “You stalking me?” I ask, my hands on my hips as I eye him suspiciously, but my tone is flirty. “Am I that obvious?” he shoots back playfully. “Just a little, but it’s kinda fun and I’m always down for a little fun with you.” “So what were you thinking?” he asks, tossing a thumb in the direction of the set we just vacated and it takes me a second to realize he’s referring to my changes to the scene we were about to shoot and not the various ways we can have fun. “Oh that. Well…” Paul cuts me short and I feel the flush begin to creep up my chest and cover my cheeks. “What did you think I was asking about, Sadie?” he asks, and the way he says my name makes goosebumps dot my skin and a shudder runs up my spine. “Now you’ve got me thinking about all the ways we can have fun.” His eyes rake over my body and suddenly this playful flirting and platonic relationship we had going on has crossed a line. “We’ve got a movie to shoot here and I think we need to keep our minds on that,” I tell him, but my brain is screaming at me to invite him into my trailer for a quickie or at least for him to take his clothes off and let me look at him and his

incredible body. “It wasn’t me who started this conversation,” he teases, shrugging his shoulders. “Whatever, Paul,” I tease back, jumping immediately into my idea to change the stunt. “I’m glad you caught up with me because I was thinking of changing the stunt and making it a little more intense.” “Oh really? What were you thinking?” His eyes widen and I’m sure he’s hoping I’m going to drop him from an airplane or have him scale the side of a mountain. In the small amount of time we’ve spent together I know he loves his job, but I also know he’s a thrill-seeker. “Don’t get too excited. I’m not going to put your life in danger. Just something simple and something I’m sure you can do in your sleep.” “Well, let’s hear it.” “I was thinking instead of having the main character jump out the window to escape the police, I’d rather have him jump from the window into the building next door. What do you think?” Paul pauses a moment, bringing his fingers to his lips as he thinks over what I’ve just said. “It’s a simple change, but I think it will be quite impactful. It will give the scene a bit more tension and also make his running seem riskier.” “Yes, exactly!” I say, excitement radiating through me as I hash this plot change out with Paul. “And I was also thinking it would give the viewer that rush of adrenaline. Like will he make it or not?” “Yep, totally. Run with it, boss.” Paul says, beaming, and I suddenly feel more pride than I ever felt with Noel.

Chapter Fourteen

Paul

We’re on the fourth take of the revised stunt scene, but something still isn’t right. It’s not that Sadie’s change is a bad one, it’s just we can’t quite get the shot right. Something about the angle. “Maybe adjust the distance a bit?” I call down from the mocked up fourth floor window. “It feels a little off.” Sadie looks up at me, nodding once before turning to the set guys as they get things adjusted and then give me a quick thumbs up. I nod and then walk back to my mark. Taking a deep breath, I run toward the open window and launch myself through it, flying through the open space between the two sets and landing comfortably in the window across the way. I hear clapping below and when I look back out the window, Sadie and the set guys are all applauding, smiles on their faces. “Perfect,” I shout, giving them the thumbs up this time. “So, all good to go?” Sadie shouts up, hands cupped around her mouth. “Yep.” I head down the stairs quickly and jog back over to the set building I’m jumping from. As I by, Sadie gives me a quick nod before I disappear into the stairwell and run up the stairs to the fourth floor again. As I do, I hear a click and then her voice as it comes through my earpiece now, the mic around her neck once again turned on. “Okay, places,” she says to everyone. “You good, Paul?” she then asks, speaking directly to me now.

I jog over and glance out of the window, giving her a nod. “Okay,” comes her voice again. “Be careful.” I smile, even as this all feels oddly intimate having her speak directly to me like this, almost as though she’s standing beside me and whispering these words directly into my ear. It’s sexy and hot and even though it’s just a work conversation that relates to the fact I’m about to run and jump through a window, I can’t deny, a part of it turns me on. “Action,” comes her voice again and I steady myself, take a deep breath in and start to run. When I hit the ledge, I propel myself through the air, my heart racing in my chest as adrenaline surges through me. I can tell I’m going to make it though. I can tell the shot is going to be perfect as my body flies through the open window on the other side, my head just clearing the space as I disappear from view below. It feels amazing, almost like I’m flying and I immediately feel the rush that comes with knowing we’ve just nailed a perfect shoot. That Sadie was right to change the stunt and I’m grateful I was able to execute it for her. But the second my foot hits the ground, I know I’ve fucked up. Not just the way my ankle rolls as my weight slams into the ground, but the god awful cracking sound that follows, which tells me this is definitely not good. “Fuck,” I blurt out as a jolt of pain shoots up my leg. Clutching my ankle, I fall to the side, my body awkwardly hitting the ground as another shot of pain rips through my ribs. “Jesus, fuck,” I groan as I lie on the floor trying to catch my breath. “Paul, that was absolutely perfect,” Sadie’s voice sounds in my ear. “You nailed it. Awesome job.” I take a deep inhale, another jolt of pain shooting through my ribs that nearly takes my breath away. I can still hear Sadie talking, although it’s to the cameraman now, as she readies everyone for the next scene, totally unaware of what’s happening up here. I should try and stand up. I need to get down there and find out what the fuck is wrong with my ankle. I need to let Sadie know I might not be able to do the next

scene just yet. With an arm wrapped around my ribs, I slowly push myself off the ground, the pain only intensifying with the movement. When I try to put my right foot down, try to bear weight on it, I actually cry out in agony as pain washes over me, nearly knocking me on my ass. “Paul, you good up there?” comes Sadie’s voice again. “We don’t need another take. You’re good to come down.” I want to answer her, but I can’t. Not without walking to the window or walking down the stairs, neither of which feels possible at the moment. But I also know I need to get out of here, so I suck in a deep breath, gritting my teeth at the pain as I start to slowly walk toward the door. It feels like it takes me an hour just to walk three feet and when I eventually reach the four flights of stairs, I have absolutely no fucking clue how I’m going to get down them. Inching my foot over the edge, I try the first one, but the pain that rips through my ankle when I put my full body weight on it, actually has me seeing stars. I somehow manage three stairs before I finally hear someone coming up. Stopping, I lean against the handrail, my body now covered in sweat as I try to breathe through the pain. “Paul, you good? Did you hear…” Sadie’s words are cut off as she rounds the corner and sees me standing at the top of the stairs struggling to catch my breath. “Oh my god. What happened?” she cries out, running up the last few steps so she’s standing right in front of me, her hand now resting on my arm. I try to smile, even though all I want to do is collapse in a heap on the floor. “Looks like those workouts are paying off,” I force out, my jaw tight. “You’re not even out of breath.” “Paul,” she says, ignoring my teasing as she hunches down and looks at me, her eyes searching my face. “What happened?” she asks, and I can hear the fear in her voice.

“Rolled my ankle,” I say. “Might be broken. Something’s going on with my chest too.” “Shit. Okay. Sit down,” Sadie immediately says, holding my arm as she eases me down onto the step. “I’m gonna get some help. Sit tight and don’t move.” I don’t say anything. I just watch as she unclips the radio from her jeans and starts to explain what’s happened to someone on the other end. I try to take slow, shallow breaths, anything deeper hurting my ribs as I wait for this to be taken care of. Eventually, Gus and Andrew appear, both of them easing me up as they practically carry me down the stairs. When we get down there, a golf cart is waiting, the set medic standing by. “Hey,” I say, trying for a smile as Gus and Andrew ease me into the back seat of the cart. The medic is all business as she wraps a blood pressure cuff around my arm and starts asking me questions about what happened. I’m not really paying attention, distracted by the appearance of Sadie, who stands nearby with a worried expression on her face as she bites at her thumbnail. “It’s okay, boss,” I tell her. She shakes her head, her eyes still watching me as she leans over and says something to her assistant. I close my eyes now and just go with it, too exhausted to fight what happens next. Eventually I’m loaded into a car, Sadie climbing in the back seat next to me as we make our way to the hospital. “You don’t need to come with me,” I tell her. Sadie nods, but doesn’t say anything. “Sadie,” I say, waiting until she looks at me. “You have a movie to make,” I say when she does. “The assistant director can take care of things,” she says. “This is more important.”

I shake my head as I offer her a smile. “This is nothing,” I say. “I’ll be fine, seriously.” Now it’s Sadie shaking her head at me. “I’m not arguing with you about this,” she says, her face tense, her words firm.

“So, it’s a Weber B fracture of the fibula,” the doctor tells me. “Good news is the bone hasn’t slipped. You won’t need surgery. Bad news is you also have a cracked rib, so you’ll need to stay off the crutches for the first two weeks.” “What?” I ask, shuffling up the bed a little, my breath catching in my chest even though the pain is duller now thanks to the drugs they’ve given me. The doctor smiles, glancing at Sadie before turning back to me. “Normally we’d get you on partial weight bear while you wear the boot for six weeks,” he says signaling to the moon boot that’s now strapped to my ankle. “But that’s going to hurt and not do your healing rib any good. So, I’d suggest bed rest for the first two weeks and then slow movements with crutches for the four weeks after that.” “Bed rest?” I ask, sitting up a little more. “I can’t be on bed rest. I can’t even be in this boot.” “Paul,” Sadie says, her hand on my arm. The doctor smiles. “I’m afraid that’s your only option,” he says before turning to Sadie. “You’ll need to make sure he takes it easy, particularly these first two weeks. No lifting, no stairs and no exercise or overdoing it.” Sadie nods, even as I’m saying, “I can’t do that, I have a job, responsibilities…” “Paul,” Sadie repeats, cutting me off. “This is far more important.” “But…” She shakes her head, turning once again to the doctor as she says, “When can he leave the hospital?”

The doctor smiles at both of us. “As soon as that bag of fluids is done, we’ll see about sending you home. I assume you’ll be able to manage him and a wheelchair. Hopefully your house doesn’t have stairs?” “What?” I practically shout. Sadie nods. “Yeah that’s fine. I can manage,” she says. “Thank you.” The doctor leaves the room and Sadie moves to the small table and pours some water into a cup before handing it to me. I shake my head though, even as she holds it out a second time. “Sadie,” I say, my gaze locked on her. She busies herself putting the cup back on the table, avoiding looking at me. “Sadie,” I repeat. She takes a deep breath and finally looks up at me. “I…I can’t believe…” I say, trying to find the right words to apologize for fucking up her movie shoot. “I’m really...” “I’m sorry,” she blurts out, surprising me. “Sorry?” I ask. “Sorry for what?” She stands beside my bed, arms wrapped around her body as she watches me. She looks scared and worried as her eyes search my face. “I never should have changed the stunt,” she eventually says, her words barely audible. “I…” “No,” I say firmly. “This is not on you, Sadie.” “But…” “Nope,” I repeat, shaking my head. “It was an accident,” I tell her. “Nothing to do with the stunt and nothing to do with you. Just dumb fucking luck that I landed badly, that’s it.” Sadie takes a deep breath before letting it out in a long slow exhale. “I’ll cover all your medical expenses and of course, you’ll still get paid for the three month shoot,” she says, ignoring what I’ve just said to her. “I’m really sorry, Paul.”

“Hey,” I say, hand out to her. She stares at it before looking up at my face. “Come here,” I add, beckoning her closer. She walks slowly toward me and I reach over and take her hand in mine. “This was an accident, Sadie, nothing more. Please do not feel guilty about this. It’s not your fault and you’re sure as shit not paying my medical expenses.” Sadie nods her head, her mouth set in a firm line. I thread my fingers through hers, tugging her closer. “I’m okay,” I tell her. “This isn’t anything major. I’m just sorry you’ve lost a stuntman in all of this.” Sadie stares back at me, her bottom lip between her teeth, her fingers still linked with mine. Neither of us says anything, even though I can see a million worries, a million questions in her eyes. Squeezing her hand, I smile at her. “I’m okay,” I repeat.

When I’m finally allowed to leave, I’m forced to do so in a wheelchair, the moon boot on my right foot and a set of crutches across my lap that I’ve once again been instructed not to use for the first two weeks. I’m not sure how the fuck I’m going to manage that considering I live in a third floor apartment in a building with no elevator. The car we came over in is still waiting outside and Sadie watches as the orderly helps me into the backseat. I’m rocking some nice painkillers at the moment, so it doesn’t hurt half as much as it did when we first got to the hospital. Eventually, Sadie settles herself in beside me, giving the driver my address, before glancing at me. I smile at her, but she only nods once before turning to look out the window. We ride over to my apartment in silence and it’s not until the driver pulls into the parking lot in front of my building that Sadie turns to me. “Keys?” “What?”

“Keys,” she repeats, hand out. “I’m fine,” I tell her. “You don’t need to come up.” Sadie shakes her head. “You’re not going up,” she tells me. “I am.” “What?” Sadie takes a deep breath, her eyes finally meeting mine as she says, “You can’t stay here, Paul. It’s a shitty apartment, there are stairs and you shouldn’t be alone.” I chuckle a little. “I’ll be fine,” I tell her. “I’m tougher than I look, ? And once I’m up there, it’ll be fine,” I add, not sure how true that is. I might be on painkillers right now, but I’m not sure even they are strong enough to get me up three flights of stairs. “No,” she says, her hand still out as she waits for my keys. “What?” I ask, still watching her. “Why do you want my keys then?” Sadie bites her bottom lip, her cheeks turning a little pink as she says, “So I can go and get your stuff.” “Why do you need to get my stuff?” “Because,” she starts, swallowing hard before she adds, “you’re coming to stay with me.”

Chapter Fifteen

Sadie

I can’t help but feel responsible for what happened to Paul on my set, on my time, on my direction. The more I think about it the more the guilt pools heavy in my chest and churns in my stomach. I fight back the tears, swallowing hard as I make my way up the steps to Paul’s apartment. He had given me a list of things to collect and when I enter his apartment I know I won’t have too hard of a time finding them. The place is basically empty and I’m once again hit with a massive feeling of guilt. He’s living in this barely furnished apartment and I’ve just made his life exponentially worse. There’s not a chance in hell he’s not coming to stay with me until he’s fully recovered. He can’t possibly come back to this place with its mattress on the floor and its folding chairs in front of a tiny TV. This is not an environment conducive for recovery. As I stand looking around and taking it all in, I suddenly grow angry with him for even arguing with me. While it’s been renovated recently and has a lot of nice features, he has no furniture and when I open his cabinets, he has only a single pot for cooking, some utensils and a stack of plastic cups. The damn building has no elevator and for some reason I curse the building’s owner for being so irresponsible, despite knowing how ridiculous it is. It doesn’t need an elevator; it’s only three stories. I’m angry with myself for even letting this happen. I grab the few things Paul told me to get, putting them into the bag the hospital gave him along with the few snacks he had stashed in the cabinets. I clean out his refrigerator knowing he won’t be back here if I have anything to say about it. Tossing his carton of milk into the garbage can and adding the other stuff to the hospital bag. I tug his small suitcase to the door as I gather everything up.

On my way out, I grab the garbage bag so I can toss it in the dumpster. If or when he comes back here, he definitely doesn’t want rotten milk stinking the place up. I take one last look around, opening the fridge and freezer to make sure it’s empty, and checking the bedroom and bathroom to make sure I didn’t miss anything. When all is good, I grab everything and head down the stairs, tossing the garbage into the dumpster, then making my way to the waiting car. Opening the trunk I put the suitcase in and close it. I smile when I open the car door and slip in next to Paul, handing him the bag of stuff. My smile is forced and it makes my cheeks hurt, my teeth pressing hard together as my thoughts continue to swirl. But now I’m plagued with what this means for my career and I hate to even think about it. My life is already the talk of the tabloids with my divorce and Noel’s meltdown, and now I add an injury on my set to the list. The press will have a field day with it. Guilt and anxiety rip through me, consuming my thoughts and it’s taking everything in me not to break down and cry. I’ve turned this into one fucked up mess. “You ready?” I ask, my voice shaky and seeing Paul’s face makes my guilt ramp up even more. He’s now out of work and I’m to blame. “Yeah, but this really isn’t necessary.” “It is,” I shoot back and the bite in my words slips through. I’m demanding he come home with me because if I couldn’t keep him safe on my set, I can at least make sure he makes a full recovery under my now watchful eye. I let out a loud exhale and Paul reaches over and rests his hand on my thigh. Any semblance of closeness we built over the last few weeks has been destroyed by this incident and his hand on my thigh just feels more like sympathy than anything now. “Sadie,” he says, empathy floating between us as if he can sense my unease and again I hate that it’s him consoling me. This is fully my fault. “It’s the least I can do, Paul. I’m the reason you’re in this situation.”

Paul lets out a hard sigh, shifting his body and his booted leg awkwardly. “I’m not letting you blame yourself for this. It’s a career where injuries are prevalent and if you think you’re the reason it happened you’re wrong. Do you want me to list all the ways I’ve been hurt on a set? Do you want to hear about how many times I’ve blamed the director or the producer or the stunt coordinator?” While his words hold weight, they don’t hold enough for me to absolve myself of the guilt. I look at him, blinking back the tears, but I shake my head. I would feel terrible if anyone was hurt on my set, but for some reason with Paul the guilt is intense. I can’t help but wonder if it has something to do with my attraction to him, an attraction I’ve been denying since the day I met him. “It’s a lot, Sadie and never once did I hold anyone but myself responsible. It was a careless error on my part. That’s all this was. Nothing more,” he adds, again making me feel as if he’s caring for me and not himself. I take a deep breath, clearing my thoughts and pulling myself out of my own head. He may be right; things like this do happen, but I’m going to do everything I can to ensure that Paul recovers quickly and is back working even if it’s not on my set. “Okay, but while you’re with me, you just relax and recover. Eat whatever you want, order food, watch TV, sleep in.” “As long as you’re doing them all with me,” Paul says, giving my thigh a squeeze and my stomach flutters, desire pushing my guilt to the side. Having Paul stay with me is going to test my resolve and I’m not sure I have the will to say no. “You know I have to work, right?” I reply, teasing him. “This is true, but then I can spend my days pining away for you, so when you do come home it will be amazing.” “Paul, you’re ridiculous.” “And you’re adorable.”

We pull up the long driveway about thirty minutes later and I’m exhausted, but I’m sure it’s nothing compared to how Paul is feeling. The pain meds he was given at the hospital have to be wearing off and he’s struggling to get out of the car without putting weight on his foot. “Stay there,” I tell him, scrambling to get to the other side of the car to help him. “I’ll take your bags and put them in the house, then I’ll come back to help you. Just wait.” But Paul doesn’t listen and he pulls himself from the car and wedges his crutches under his arms, ignoring the doctor’s advice and the wheelchair in the trunk as he hobbles his way to the front door. “Paul, you’re a terrible listener,” I shame, holding the door open for him and helping him to the couch. He flops down hard, letting out an exhausted sigh, his head falling back. “What can I get you?” I ask. “Water? More Pain meds? Something to eat? You can have whatever you want.” “Whatever I want?” he asks, a sly smile on his face and I’m waiting for what’s to come next, my heart racing at the thought of him saying he wants me. “Oh there’s plenty that I want, Sadie, but for now how about In-N-Out?” “I can do that,” I reply, grabbing my phone to place an order for delivery. “Now what do you want?” I quickly place our order and given we’re in L.A. delivery times are crazy long, but it’s worth it if this makes Paul feel a little better. “Why don’t I show you around?” I say, helping Paul up from the couch and handing him his crutches. “Unfortunately the house is big so you’re going to get your exercise, but there’s a bedroom on the main level and you’ll have your own bathroom, the same one you used before.” “I’m good with whatever,” Paul responds casually as we head down the hall to the bedroom. When we walk in he pauses and looks around and I smirk at him. “A little better

than a mattress on the floor, huh?” I ask, not wanting to make fun of him too much. “Hey listen, missy, I’m only supposed to be here for three months. I wasn’t about to furnish that postage stamp size apartment.” “I know. I’m just giving you shit.” “I know you are and I love that,” he says, his voice low as he takes in the room, his eyes then shooting over to me. “And if we’re giving each other shit, this house is boujee as fuck.” I shake my head at him, my face turning hot, but I don’t want this playful banter we have going on to end so I reply back with, “Not all of us can watch TV from folding chairs and be so cool with it.” “Oh Sadie, I could teach you plenty,” he replies, the seduction back in his voice and I have no idea how he’s still attracted to me after all of this. “Okay,” I mutter, red-faced as I set his bag down on the bed and pull the suitcase over to the closet. “Do you want me to hang up your things or put your clothes in the dresser?” I’m now trying to keep busy to avoid what’s going through my mind. God, what would it be like to fuck Paul on this four-poster king size bed with these floor to ceiling glass windows overlooking the Hollywood Hills? Shame on me. “No, Sadie, you don’t have to hang my things up or unpack my suitcase.” He crutches over to where I’m standing and I quickly slip through into the ading bathroom. “This is your bathroom. You should have everything you need in here, but if something’s missing just let me know and I’ll get it for you. Do you want to take a shower?” I ask, fumbling over my words because as soon as I ask it, I picture Paul naked. “I’d like to, but I’m not sure how I’m going to accomplish that,” he answers back, his lips pursed as he looks down at his booted foot quizzically.

“Maybe a bath would be better? The hospital gave you a boot cover and some giant rubber bands.” “You going to help me get in and out?” he asks, again that cheeky smile is back and my heart is fluttering. “If you need me to then yes.” “How about we cross that bridge a little later? I’m not sure I have the strength to…” Paul trails off, leaving the bathroom and opening the doors that lead out to a small turf-covered patio. “Shit, I thought the view from the pool was amazing, but this is just as good.” “Yeah, the view from here is pretty great, but the views from the second floor are even better. You should see the wall of sliding glass doors off the workout room.” Paul turns to me quickly, pivoting on the crutch and it’s clear he’s already getting used to them. His face is questioning and he narrows his eyes a little and then says, “Wait a second. You have a gym in your house?” “Yeah. A gym, a theater room, a wine cellar.” “So why’d you come to the gym with me? You could’ve just worked out here in the privacy of your own home.” I tilt my head to the side, my hands on my hips and I can’t look him in the eye. “Don’t make me say it,” I whisper, my teeth tugging at my bottom lip and his eyes practically shine when he looks at me. Slowly moving over to where I’m standing, he leans in, his warm breath hitting my neck, his lips practically touching my ear as he murmurs, “Things definitely would’ve went differently had we been here instead.” Holy shit. The gate bell chimes saving me from having to take this any further, but if we ever get past this point, this house is going to burn to the ground. Maybe asking him to stay here wasn’t the best idea.

“Do you want to eat outside? It’s a nice night and I can light the fireplace,” I say, gathering some plates and napkins. “You go on outside. I’ll bring everything out to you.” “I need to get some sort of basket or something that I can hang over one of my crutches so I can carry shit,” Paul says, and we both laugh a little at his sudden incompetence. “Just go. I’ll bring everything out.” I give him a little shove and he fakes stumbling, turning around to shoot me that perfect smile of his. Following Paul out carrying our food, I set everything down and start the fireplace and it glows brightly in the dim light of the patio. The lights of the city twinkle below us, the night’s quiet and for a split second I forget the awfulness that happened today. “How are you feeling?” I ask, then taking a bite of my burger. “I’m okay. Feels like the meds are starting to wear off, but I could sure get used to this.” Paul motions around, taking in the view. “Maybe this broken ankle isn’t such a bad thing.” “Do you want me to get you some pain medicine?” I ask, jumping up before he can even answer. “Sit down, Sadie. I’m fine. Let’s have a nice dinner, enjoy the view and each other’s company.” “Okay,” I say, conceding quickly and agreeing that being here together is quite nice. “So where in Canada are you originally from?” I ask, keeping the conversation away from anything that could lead to more. “Vancouver area.” “You still have family there?” I ask, wondering if he sees his family as little as I see mine. “Yep. My mom and dad are still there along with my sister. They all live about

ten minutes from my apartment there.” “So you have a permanent home?” “Yes, I don’t always sleep on mattresses on the floor,” he jokes back, teasing me about our previous conversation. “How about you? You said New York, but it’s a big state?” “Yeah, I grew up on Long Island and my parents still live there. Sort of. They’re retired and go back and forth between there and Florida.” “Any siblings?” “Yeah, I have a sister. She’s a badass lawyer. She’s the one who took over my dad’s law practice and I ran away to L.A. at nineteen to make movies.” “Sounds like my family. My sister loves to outshine me too.” “We seem to have a lot in common,” I say, looking right at him and wondering what he’s thinking. “We do. Just give it time because I think we’re going to find we enjoy a lot of the same things too.” Paul winks at me and there’s no way I’m going to be able to sleep tonight with him in this house.

Chapter Sixteen

Paul

Even though the pain meds are starting to wear off, I’m feeling relaxed, sitting out on the patio here at Sadie’s amazing house. The lights of L.A. twinkle below us, the night peaceful and quiet with the only noise coming from the fire burning in the pit and the cicadas. “I’ll get your meds,” Sadie says quietly, as she scrunches up her wrapper and stands. “I’m okay,” I say my head back on the chair as I look up at her. She smiles as she puts a hand on my shoulder. “You need to keep taking them,” she reminds me. “For the first few days, it will help.” “Okay, thank you.” She disappears inside and I turn back to the amazing view from her patio. When she walks back out, she hands me two tablets before moving to the small bar fridge built into the outdoor kitchen. She grabs a bottle of water and a beer, before turning back to me. “Any chance of a beer?” I ask as she holds out the bottle of water. Sadie cocks a brow. “Is that a good idea with those?” she asks, tilting her head in the direction of the tablets in my hand. I chuckle. “It’s only Tylenol and one won’t hurt.” Sadie doesn’t move as she stares down at me, her brows narrowed. “Come on,” I say, reaching for her hand. “Just one, I promise.” I give her fingers

a squeeze, not missing the small gasp that falls from her lips. “Fine,” she eventually says. “But just one.” I take the beer she offers me, twisting off the cap and taking a big gulp as I swallow down the pills. “Thank you,” I add, turning to look at Sadie who’s once again sitting beside me. “No problem,” she says, shrugging. A chuckle falls from my mouth. “No, I mean thank you for this,” I tell her, waving my beer at the view in front of us. “For letting me stay here. For taking care of me.” Sadie lets out a long slow exhale, staring out at the night. “It’s the least I could do, Paul.” I move my beer to my other hand, reaching over to take hers again. “Sadie,” I whisper, tugging on her fingers until she turns to face me. “This is all gonna be okay, seriously.” “Is it?” she whispers. I smile. “Yes. It’s just a broken ankle, that’s all. Bones heal. I’ll be totally fine, I promise.” “I hope so,” she says, turning away from me again. “I’m actually more worried about you.” “Me?” she asks, turning back, a surprised look on her face. “Yeah,” I nod. “And getting this movie finished.” Now it’s Sadie smiling at me. “It’ll be fine, Paul,” she tells me. “A lot of the big stunts are done and we should be able to use the other guys for the scenes you had left.” “You’ll let me know if there’s anything I can do to help, won’t you?” Sadie takes a sip of beer. “The only thing I want you to do,” she says, her voice

firm, “is focus on getting better. No working out, no attempting to do anything around the house. It’s strictly bed and couch for you.” I chuckle. “Yes, boss.” Sadie nods. “Good. Now, do you want me to help you with taking a shower?” she asks. I stare back at her, see the light blush that colors her cheeks as I swallow hard and try to hide what her suggestion is doing to my body. Just the thought of her seeing me naked, the hot soapy water, her hands…fuck me. I really need to not think about this right now. “Um, yeah, just give me a sec though?” I ask, knowing I absolutely have to get myself under control before I can even think about her helping me. I push up off my chair and Sadie moves to help me up. Handing me my crutches, I wedge them under my arms and make my way toward the door. Behind me I hear Sadie gather up our things as I make my way back to my room. Inside, I push the door so it’s almost closed as I sit down on the bed. My body is exhausted and jacked up all at the same time. “Jesus, Paul,” I mutter to myself, my hand moving to my crotch as I adjust myself. “How the fuck is this going to work?” I ask, not even caring that I’m actually having a conversation with my own dick. “You need to calm the fuck down. You can’t be like this in front of her.” I kick off my one remaining shoe as I lower the crutches to the floor. Moving so I’m resting against the headboard, my legs now on the bed, I tuck my hands behind my head, determined not to give my dick the satisfaction of any form of movement or touching. Closing my eyes, I force my thoughts to go anywhere but to Sadie, instead reliving the scene today and the moment I landed and heard that god awful crack of my bone breaking. It didn’t even break all the way through, just a fracture according to the x-rays. Still hurt like hell though. As I relive the moment, I can feel my body calming down, my dick finally getting the message and giving up it’s obvious attempts at getting Sadie’s attention. I keep my eyes closed though as I now listen to Sadie move about the

house, waiting for her to come in here and help me.

When I next open my eyes, it’s morning. I’m still lying on the bed, fully clothed with a blanket now draped over me. Turning toward the nightstand, I see a glass of water, the bottle of Tylenol and a note.

Looks like the day caught up with you. Hope you slept well. to take two tablets every 6 hours. Take it easy and don’t do anything more than move from here to the couch. I MEAN IT! See you tonight, S.

I smile, shuffling up at the bed a little as I reach for my phone, opening up the message app.

Me: sorry I fell asleep on you. Guess I was exhausted. Thanks for the meds. Hope you have a good day. Don’t worry about me – I’ll be fine!

I hit send, just as my phone starts to ring. Gus’ name flashing on the screen. “Hey,” I say as I answer it. “Hey, answer your door,” he says. I clear my throat, stalling as I decide how to answer. No one actually knows about my friendship with Sadie, about our daily workout sessions or our regular nightly text messages. Not because I’m trying to hide it or I’m embarrassed

about it, far from it. More because I know she needs to be protected from all the gossip about it. Not just because she’s my boss, but also because of her ex-husband and all the bullshit that surrounds him. The last thing I want to do is add to Sadie’s worries. “Yeah, um I’m not home,” I eventually say. “What?” he asks. “They keep you in overnight? I thought it was a relatively minor break?” “It was and no they didn’t,” I say, answering him. “But I’m um, I’m staying with a friend for a bit.” “Who?” he asks. “Ahh, you don’t know her,” I lie. Gus laughs. “Her, huh?” he says, and I can tell he’s already wondering who the hell I’m staying with. Fuck, if he only knew. “She playing sexy nurse for you and giving you sponge baths and shit?” he asks, still chuckling. “Ha ha, smart ass,” I say, even as my mind immediately goes back to last night and Sadie’s offer to help me shower. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be at work?” I ask, changing the subject. “Yeah, I’m going, just wanted to check in and see how you were.” I exhale. “I’m okay,” I tell him. “Pissed off I can’t finish this job, but I’ll be fine. Make sure everything runs okay on set today,” I add. “Take care of my scenes and…” “It’s all cool, Paul,” Gus says, cutting me off. “Just focus on getting better and maybe if you wanna tell me where you’re staying, I’ll drop by for a beer sometime.” “Yep, okay, thanks, Gus,” I say, avoiding his suggestion. “Talk soon.”

After we hang up, I check my messages, but Sadie hasn’t replied to my earlier text. Knowing it’s been twenty-four hours since I showered, with a shit load of stunt scenes and a trip to the hospital in between, I drag myself off the bed as I hobble into the bathroom. Eyeing the shower and the bath, I eventually decide on the bath, figuring it’ll be easier getting in and out of than trying to stand on one leg under the shower. I turn on the water before sitting on the ledge to strip off my clothes. When I pull off the boot and my jeans, I get a good look at my ankle, which looks like shit. The whole thing is swollen so bad, it looks like my grandmother’s cankles and there’s a nice purple bruise right over the break that just looks nasty. I try wriggling my toes, which barely move, even as a jolt of pain reminds me I’m supposed to be keeping the whole thing immobile. Pulling off the rest of my clothes, I shut off the water and with an arm on either side of the tub; I gently lower myself into the water, ignoring the protest my ribs let out, reminding me that one of them is broken too. I gently lower my broken leg into the tub, my chest heaving as I finally sit back in the warm water and the pain washes over me. I knew it was gonna hurt, but I didn’t realize it was going to be this much hard work. I stay in the tub until the water cools, washing and just trying to work myself up to getting out. When I finally do, I’m once again reminded of my broken rib as I put my full body weight onto my arms and lever myself out. Back in the bedroom, I towel off before pulling on a pair of sweats and a worn tshirt. Re-strapping the boot on, I slip my phone into my pocket and make my way into the kitchen. On the bench sits a travel coffee mug and a soft cooler bag with a handle with another note propped up against them.

I know you’ll get hungry – hopefully these will help you get stuff to the couch… where you’ll spend the ENTIRE day. I mean it Paul!

I chuckle to myself as I move to make some coffee. When I’ve got a fresh cup and some food, I hobble into the living room, collapsing on the couch, just as my phone chimes out with a message.

Sadie: No problem. It’s not surprising. You must have been exhausted. Have you taken your meds? What are you doing right now? You better be taking it easy!

I laugh out loud at her bossiness, before typing out a response.

Me: Just took a bath and am now having breakfast. How’s filming going? Sadie: PAUL!!! Me: What? Sadie: you’re supposed to be relaxing. And don’t shower alone, I’ll help you. What if you’d fallen? Me: sorry boss I promise to behave. Don’t worry though, I’m ok, relaxing on the couch like I was told to.

I snap a quick selfie, smiling at the camera as I lie back against the corner couch, coffee mug in hand, before sending it to her.

Me: see, relaxing and being a good boy Sadie: good! Keep it that way. Me: text me when you’re leaving tonight, I’ll order us dinner.

Sadie: will do…don’t miss me too much

I pause before replying, a smile on my face as I read Sadie’s last message, the flirtiness that’s back between us. It had disappeared for a while there with my accident and a part of me was worried we wouldn’t get it back.

Me: I already do

I send back, before switching on the TV. As I’m scrolling through the guide, looking for something to watch, my phone rings. Glancing at the screen, I see my sister’s name flashing. “Hey, Lyss,” “Paul, oh my god. Are you okay?” she asks, not bothering with a greeting. “I saw the articles. Something happened on set? What was it? Are you hurt? Where are you?” I chuckle. “Jesus, if you stop talking for five seconds, sis, I could tell you.” “Sorry,” she says, finally stopping and taking a breath. “But seriously, are you okay?” “I’m okay,” I tell her. “Just a broken ankle after I landed badly during a scene. It’s nothing.” “Shit,” she murmurs. “So what, you’re out of the movie now?” she asks. “Are you coming home?” I stop, wondering why it never actually occurred to me to fly back home to Vancouver. It’s obvious I won’t be working on the movie for at least the next six weeks, maybe longer if the rehab takes a while. There’s a good chance filming will be finished by the time I’m back on my feet, which sort of makes it weird that I’m bothering to hang around.

“Um yeah, out of the movie, but I’m um, I’m staying in L.A. at the moment.” “Really? But who’s looking after you? Are you on crutches?” “I am,” I tell her, wondering how much I can it to my sister. It’s not that I don’t trust her not to say anything, but I just don’t want to risk word of my new living arrangement getting out. “Look, if I tell you, Lyss, you gotta swear not to tell anyone, okay?” “Tell anyone what?” “Just promise me.” “Okay, okay,” she says. “I promise.” Taking a deep breath, I blurt it out. “I’m staying with Sadie Washington.” Silence. “Hello?” I say. “You there?” “Holy shit,” Lyss eventually murmurs. “Yeah I know,” I reply, scrubbing a hand over my face. “She sorta feels like it’s her fault and she wants to make sure I fully recover and it’s stupid but anyway, whatever, that’s what I’m doing.” Alyssa laughs. “No idiot, I mean holy shit, you like this woman.” “Yeah we’re friends,” I immediately say, a little defensive. She laughs harder now. “Um no, Paul,” she says. “You’re more than friends, trust me.” “Whatever,” I say, dismissing her. “In any case, don’t tell anyone, okay? The press can’t find out I’m here. She’s got a movie to finish and with everything going on with her ex, she doesn’t need the added drama of this too.” “Okay, okay,” she says. “Your secret’s safe with me. But you might want to check out the net. The stories about what happened on set are everywhere, so you know. It might be only a matter of time before they get wind of the totally

inappropriate, but still totally hot sleeping arrangements.” I switch my phone to speaker so I can surf the net at the same time, the stories of my accident getting top billing on all the entertainment sites. Someone’s even interviewed Noel about it, who of course is going on about how this shit never happened on set when he and Sadie worked together. It’s like he is trying to say this is all her fault. “Shit,” I murmur, almost to myself. What the fuck is this going to do to her now?

Chapter Seventeen

Sadie

The set has an eerie feeling of tension that looms over everyone, and while we’ve shot a few scenes and it’s going well, most people are silent. On most days I don’t interact directly with Paul, but it’s obvious he had a huge presence among the cast and crew. He was a smiling face on set, a leader and one of the best stuntmen I’ve ever worked with. But his absence is creating an uncomfortable factor and rightfully so. He was hurt and I should address this directly with all of them. I imagine the rest of the stunt crew is concerned for their safety, and as much as I want to appease their fears, I know I can’t give them a guarantee that nothing will happen. I keep telling myself Paul’s accident wasn’t my fault. I remind myself of all the accidents that have happened since I started in this business, but with Paul it feels different. I’d be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t attracted to him, but I’d like to think that I’d feel this way if any of my crew were hurt. I know this isn’t true though. I’ve had stuntmen injured before and while I always followed up to see how they were doing after the accident, I never let any of them move into my home. I need to focus on the day and get my head back in filming. We’re already behind, losing a day to the accident, and I can’t have that hanging over my head too. The next scene is a small stunt that follows what occurred yesterday. It should’ve been the scene I started with today, but nerves got in the way and I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I take in a deep breath, checking all the camera angles and the lighting, placing and re-adjusting the actors on their marks, but I hold back calling “action” when I see Gus suck in a hard breath.

“Hold up!” I call out and heads whip around, shoulders sag in response and the camera crew step carefully away so as not to disturb the angles. “We need to talk about something.” I scrub my hands over my face, blowing out the breath of air I’ve been holding. How do I appease these people? How do I tell them I care about their safety and show it? Is that where my problem lies? Am I too attached to them? Noel never cared what happened on his set, clearly. He threw chairs and swore and screamed, never once concerned that he’d hurt someone or that his direction would lead to someone getting hurt. No, I’m human and what’s riding on all of this isn’t just my career, it’s the careers of everyone under me. I owe them so much. “Okay, let’s address the elephant in the room,” I start, injecting a little humor into the situation because if I don’t, I might cry. “I know all of you are concerned about Paul and what happened yesterday.” A few heads nod in response, but no one says anything. “He’s going to be okay. It was a minor accident in the grand scheme of things, but your safety is my number one priority, so if there’s a scene you’re not comfortable with please say it. I’ll re-work it. I’ll meet with the stunt coordinator. Whatever you feel you need, I will do it.” The set is still silent, everyone’s eyes looking at me and when my heart begins to pulse hard and loud in my ears, I begin to wonder if I’m really going to make it. Maybe the production company made the biggest mistake attaching my name as director to this film. They should’ve just left me as the writer, quiet and unassuming in the background. A hand shoots up and it’s one of my cameramen, a young guy, this is maybe his second full-length high-budget film. He’s less intimidated and more wet behind the ears than the rest of them. He’s also far less jaded and worn down by the industry. It feels like I’m back in school and I’ve taken on the role of teacher as I call on him to speak while everyone turns to look at him. “Yeah, Ben?” I ask, my heart racing and preparing myself for this kid’s brutal honesty. What does he have to lose? “I can’t speak for everyone on set because I’ve only been doing this a couple of

years, but this is the best set I’ve ever worked on. Again, I might be way off with this since I’ve only worked on shitty budget gigs, but I feel heard and respected and whenever I suggest changes you hear me out.” My heart drops from my throat into my stomach at his words and when I look around at everyone else, they seem to be smiling in agreement. “I agree,” the stunt coordinator states. “I’m just so damn happy to be working with you. And if anything, what happened yesterday is something I’m responsible for.” I took some risks with this movie, and I’m so grateful the production company let me, but hiring Andrew as the stunt coordinator wasn’t one of those risks. He’s the best there is and while it’s hard to stop smiling at his words, tugging at the back of mind is the weird tension that still floats in the air despite this conversation. Gus, the other stuntman, is the next to speak up, echoing the sentiments of those before him but he adds, “None of us blame you for what happened yesterday, you know that, right?” I nod, but it’s not convincing at all and I steel up the courage to ask what’s been on my mind since I set foot on the set this morning. “If you all feel this way, why is the set so…” I trail off, trying to find the right words to explain it, because as I do, I begin to wonder if maybe it’s just me that feels it. Maybe I’m the one putting this undo pressure on myself. “So awkward,” Gus replies, finishing my thought and it sounds better coming out of his mouth than mine. “Yeah, I guess so,” I respond, shrugging my shoulders, at a loss for a better word. Again the set falls silent and back is the awkwardness that had dissipated. No one wants to address the real concern that everyone is aware of except me. “Well…” Gus starts and stalls out. He looks around hoping for someone to jump in, but when no does, he continues. “There’s an article…”

I cut him off immediately. “Shit, about the accident?” The press has a field day with these sorts of things and I’m sure it’s blown way out of proportion. But in saying that, I’ve always run with the idea that all press is good press. People will be following the production of this movie now and as long as we aren’t plagued with any more issues, all that will come of this is positive news. “Not exactly,” Gus says, his nose wrinkled up. “It’s about the accident, but it’s more about your… hus…ex-hus…Noel. They’ve interviewed him and he just said some shitty things.” I feel the color drain from my face and if I were standing in front of a mirror right now it would be as white as the paper I’m currently holding in my hand. I look around for my assistant, Shannon, in the hopes she’s already on top of this, but I forgot she’s with the props coordinator today. It’s a job I put her on so I would have more time on the set. Now I wish I was anywhere but here. “Don’t read it,” Ian, the male lead says, shaking his head and giving me a sympathetic smile, but I can see the disgust with Noel burning behind his eyes. He’s been in the industry since he was young. Making a name for himself on a family sitcom and eventually outgrowing those roles and seamlessly transitioning to the big screen. He’s been around the block and knows what it’s like to be subjected to this kind of scrutiny. But he’s also worked with Noel and knows the effects of that. “I wasn’t planning on it,” I snap back, not angry at Ian but angry at the fact that Noel has the balls to continue to step in and outshine anyone who may dull his brightness. He sets the fire and steps back and watches it burn. “I have an interview booked today with Hollywood Live and you can bet your ass I’m going to set the record straight,” Ian asserts, and a few of the crew chuckle a little. Knowing that while Noel is a gigantic asshole, Ian will definitely call him out. “Thank you, but I don’t need…” “I know you don’t need anything. You’re Sadie Washington, paving the path for women in this industry to be badass, but we need more men ing women, more men talking about the things that hold women back. Noel Robinson holds women back.”

His words are said with finality, but they hit home. Noel always made it seem like he was there to my career, but what he really needed was someone to make him seem more human, more likeable and that someone was me. “Thank you again,” I say, swallowing back the lump that has formed in my throat. It’s interesting to see what looks like and to think for all these years I thought that’s what I had. “Now we kinda need to get back to work before someone else writes an article about my set being unfocused.” Everyone laughs, including me and we reset the scene in seconds, back to filming as it should be.

It’s later than I plan when I walk in the door and I almost forget Paul is home. I feel bad leaving him alone all day and well into the night, but I was able to make up some of the missed shoots from yesterday and things were flowing well. I hated to break up the momentum we had going and the crew seemed to agree. I call out when I walk in, “Honey, I’m home!” I hear Paul laugh and then I hear the sound of his crutches thumping on the wood floor. “Hey! There’s dinner in the fridge,” he calls back, eventually appearing in the kitchen and hobbling over to the refrigerator. “What? Did you order dinner?” I ask. “Nope, I cooked dinner. Ordered some groceries too.” He sounds way too proud of himself and I hate to burst his bubble. “You’re not supposed to be on your feet!” I chastise, my hands on my hips as I narrow my eyes at him. “Sadie, I’m going to lose my mind doing nothing all day. Don’t get too excited it’s just pizza and salad.” He shifts his crutches to one side and leans against the counter. His shirt bunches a little revealing his low-slung sweats and peeking out is his flat, muscular stomach, all tanned and perfect. It’s clear I haven’t gotten laid in a while because this has my body on fire. “Okay, well, I’m home now so thank you. Now go lie down on the couch.” My

words come out in a rush and it’s obvious I’m being weird. I shoo him back to the couch, my hands flicking in that direction. “I’m only going back to the couch if you bring your dinner in here and sit with me,” Paul announces, standing firm and not moving. “Fine.” I open the fridge and find a neatly prepared margherita flatbread pizza and a perfectly chopped salad. “Paul!” I yell out and he starts laughing immediately. “This isn’t just pizza and salad. You actually made this shit. How long did this take you? How long were you on your feet? Or should I say foot?” He’s still laughing and again I hear the telltale sound of his crutches connecting with the floor. “Don’t you dare come in here!” I scream, a smile plastered on my face. “You are supposed to be resting and now you have to make up for the dinner you spent all that time making.” “Sadie, seriously, I’m fine.” “I guess I’ll give you a because this dinner looks amazing. Who would’ve thought you were a cook?” “Why do you say it like that? Because my apartment looked like I live the life of a bachelor who orders in every night?’ “Yeah, kinda,” I it, sheepishly. “I like to cook, but when you don’t live in one place very long or you work long hours like us, it gets hard. I had some downtime.” I stick the pizza in the oven and portion out some salad into a bowl. I’m starving and even thought about eating it straight from the serving bowl, but I don’t want Paul thinking I’m that sloppy. Even if I am. “How was your day?” I ask, shoveling salad into my mouth.

“It was boring. It’s much better now that you’re here.” His words make me nearly choke and I grab for a glass, filling it with water. He smirks at me. He’s cheeky and he knows it, but like hell if I want him to stop. “How was your day?” he adds. “It was good. Made up for some of the time we missed yesterday. Noel did an interview about the accident,” I say, slipping it in there, but kinda hoping Paul overlooks it. Saying it out loud makes it obvious that it bothers me, that putting it out there in the world means I feel the weight of it. “He’s an asshole.” “That’s true, but he sure knows how to make me look bad.” “He can only make you look bad if you let him. Stand taller, be the better person and promote the hell out of your accomplishments. He’s only trying to outshine you because he’s failing.” “I know all this, and I swear if I sing, he sings louder.” “Because he’s insecure and he can’t possibly have a woman doing something well. He’s the type of guy who wants to keep you in your lane. Fuck him, Sadie and his bullshit.: “Fuck him and his bullshit,” I say, quoting his words back to him. “I like that. I think that will be my new motto.”

Chapter Eighteen

Paul

By the time the weekend rolls around I’m starting to wonder if I’m not going a little bit crazy. I’m not used to being this inactive, this dependent on someone else and I feel constantly restless. I’m unable to burn off the energy that’s coursing through my body on a nearly permanent basis. I can’t believe I have five more weeks of this shit to go. On the flip side, my rib is starting to feel a little better. It was only a hairline fracture to begin with, but the pain that first week whenever I used my crutches nearly knocked the wind out of me. Of course, I faked it a lot of the time in front of Sadie, but that’s because she didn’t need the added guilt of seeing me in pain. Nor did I want to remind her I shouldn’t even be using the crutches. But today, after waking up at the ass crack of dawn again, I have a plan. I’d done a test run yesterday after she left for work and I knew it wasn’t going to kill me. Hurt a little, yeah, but whatever. I could put up with the pain. But I need to move quickly before she finds out and also because I’m going to look like a total idiot trying to accomplish my plan too. And that I definitely don’t need to do in front of Sadie. I drag myself up so I’m sitting on the edge of my bed. Reaching for the shorts and t-shirt on the floor, I brace myself for the pain in my ribs, which seems even less again today. Exhaling, I get myself dressed and up, before hobbling into the kitchen as quietly as possible. After I grab a bottle of water, I make my way toward the stairs, knowing this is the one part I need to do quickly and without Sadie seeing me. When I finally get to the top, I pause, trying to catch my breath as I listen to the reassuring

silence of the second floor. I move in the opposite direction of where I now know Sadie sleeps, instead heading down to the amazing personal gym she has set up with floor to ceiling glass doors overlooking the Hollywood Hills. Why the fuck she wanted to give this up to come work out in a gym with me, I’ll never know. The view is spectacular, and the equipment is all state of the art. So much so, that I’m tempted to suggest we never go back to my gym, even after my ankle is healed. Just as I think this though, another thought pops into my head. One that also involves this room, a workout and hot sweaty bodies, but not of the wearing clothes variety. “Jesus, Paul,” I say, shaking my head as I pop my earbuds in and hobble over to the bench. I flick through my music, selecting a playlist before turning the volume up. Then I settle myself on the bench, propping my crutches beside me before attempting to go through some exercises. I take it easy at first, knowing as much as my rib might be starting to feel better, it is still cracked. I can’t do anything with my legs, which is frustrating, but even a half-assed workout feels better than the nothing I’ve done all week. I’ve been working out for about thirty minutes when movement by the door catches my eye. I instantly know who it’s going to be as I reset the weights I’m lifting and slowly sit up. “Hey,” I say, smiling as I pull the earbuds from my ears. Sadie stands in the doorway, shoulder against the frame and her arms crossed over her chest as she all but glares at me. She looks cute mad, especially dressed in a tiny pair of hot shorts and a tank. “Hey,” she repeats sarcastically. “Hey, is what you say to me?” “Good morning?” I try, grinning. “Did you sleep well?”

Sadie lets out a huff. “I’d say, what the fuck are you doing would be more appropriate.” A chuckle falls from my mouth. “I’m taking it easy,” I tell her. “I promise.” “Okay, first,” she says, uncrossing her arms as she starts to count off on her fingers, “you aren’t supposed to be working out at all. Second, we’re on the second floor. How the hell did you get up here? And third…” “Third,” I say, cutting her off, “is you look really cute when you’re mad.” Sadie’s mouth falls open in surprise as she stares at me. I can’t help but laugh, especially when her cheeks start to darken. “It’s okay, Sadie, I promise,” I tell her, reaching for my crutches as I lift myself off the bench. “Anyway, I’m going mad not doing anything.” “That’s exactly what you’re supposed to be doing!” she says, hands up. “Mmmm,” I murmur, walking over and stopping in front of her. “How’d you even know I was in here?” She cocks a brow, her arms crossed over her chest again, but not before I realize she isn’t wearing a bra. She must catch me checking her out though, her cheeks darkening even more. “Sadie?” I prompt, unable to stop the grin. Sadie clears her throat before saying, “You do realize you sing when you work out, don’t you?” A laugh falls from my mouth as I shake my head. “Shit.” “Yeah, shit,” she mimics back, rolling her eyes. “And now you’re in deep shit for even attempting to do this.” This time it’s me cocking my brow at her. “Is that so?” I ask her teasingly. “And what’s my punishment gonna be for this little crime?” Her brows narrow as she goes back to glaring at me. Pushing off the doorframe,

she gestures to the hall and the staircase at the end. “How exactly did you manage to get up here?” she asks again. “Yeah, about that,” I say, scrubbing a hand across my jaw. “You think maybe you could go take a shower or something so I can go back down?” “Why?” “Umm, because it’s not exactly a pretty sight.” Sadie chuckles, moving toward the staircase. “In that case,” she says, waiting for me, “there’s not a chance in hell I’m missing this.” Rolling my eyes, I hobble toward her, knowing she’s not letting me get away with this after my early morning workout stunt. Resigned to the idea that she’s going to see my totally ungraceful stair climbing methods, I hand her my crutches before I sit down on the top stair. Then, like a toddler who hasn’t yet learned to walk, I lower my ass down the stairs, one by one until I reach the bottom. When I finally do, Sadie jogs down to me, a cheeky smile on her face as I stand and take my crutches from her. “Happy?” I ask, shaking my head. She laughs now. “That may well have been the funniest thing I have seen in a long time.” “Whatever,” I say, turning toward the kitchen. “Coffee?”

After we’ve had our morning coffee, the two of us sitting at the kitchen island, I turn to her and ask, “What’s on the agenda for today? Do you have to work?” Sadie shakes her head. “Nope, day off.” “So…plans?” I ask, hoping for no. Sadie shrugs. “Maybe,” she says, as she shoots me a sideways glance.

“What’s maybe?” “Well, I might have gotten you something,” she says, pushing her stool back and standing. “Something I thought you might need.” “Oh,” I say, my eyes widening as a smile breaks out. “And is this something related to me being naughty this morning?” I ask, air quoting the word naughty. Sadie scowls at me. “Actually, based on this morning’s performance, maybe I shouldn’t give this to you at all.” “No, no,” I say, as I reach over and put my hand on her bare arm. “I promise to be good. Come on Sadie,” I say, squeezing. “I’m going nuts here.” “Hmmm,” she murmurs. “Hang on.” She disappears out of the room and I hear her rummaging through her bag. When she walks back into the kitchen, she’s holding up what looks to be a fiberglass moon boot. Similar to the one I’m wearing, but scaled back, no comfortable padding or whatever. “Here,” she says, dangling it in front of me. My eyes flick to the boot and then back to her face. “What’s this?” She raises her brows as if to say, seriously? I chuckle. “Well, obviously I can see what it is, but in case you haven’t noticed,” I add, extending my right leg, “I sorta already have one.” “Yes,” she replies, smiling now, a smugly satisfied look on her face as she adds, “But is that one waterproof?” I immediately get it as I jump up from my stool, my left leg taking my full weight as I grab her shoulders and press a hard kiss to her cheek. “Sadie, you genius,” I say, laughing. “This is fucking perfect!” When I pull back her eyes are wide, her cheeks a little pink. I realize immediately my hands are still on her, our bodies practically touching. And I just kissed her.

She stares up at me, a look on her face that suggests she’s trying to figure out what just happened. I find my fingers gently squeezing her shoulders again, my eyes dropping to her mouth as I wonder what it would be like to kiss those lips. As though she can read my mind, her tongue slips out, wetting them, before she drags her bottom lip between her teeth. My thumb moves to that mouth of hers, gently tugging on her lip. “Wanna try it out? Maybe me for a swim?” I whisper, the words floating between us. Sadie swallows hard as she nods, her eyes still locked with mine. “Go put your suit on,” I tell her. “I’ll meet you out there.” Sadie nods again before I let her go. My eyes focused on her as she turns and walks out of the kitchen. It’s only after she’s gone that I finally let out the breath I’ve been holding. “Fuck me,” I murmur, scrubbing a hand down my face. This whole attraction to her, wanting her far more than I should feels like it’s reaching a breaking point. Like I’m not going to be able to hold back from doing something for much longer. I have no idea how she feels in all of this, whether she even wants to embark on a new relationship when the papers on her last one haven’t even been finalized. Hell, maybe she sees me as nothing more than a rebound guy, someone to use to get used to dating again. I don’t wanna be the rebound guy. But do I even want a relationship? After Helena and all the shit that happened at the end, I’m not sure. But almost as soon as I think that, I know when it comes to Sadie, I do. For one thing, she’s nothing like Helena and given her past, I know she’d never do anything like what Helena did to me either. Plus, I’m attracted to her. In a big way—a really big way.

But I don’t want to be just a fling either. Or an excuse or a way to get back at her husband. I don’t want that. Sighing, I pick up the new boot she’s bought me, before hobbling back to my bedroom to get changed. When I get outside, Sadie still hasn’t come down, so I throw my towel on one of the chairs before making my way toward the edge of the pool. “Be careful,” she calls out, standing in the open sliding glass doorway. I glance up and give her a wink. “I will.” She shakes her head at me, her eyes never leaving me as she watches me lower my crutches to the ground before sitting at the edge of the pool. The cool water feels fucking fantastic against my skin and even though I’d love to just take this boot off completely, it’s enough that I can get in the pool at all. “You gonna me?” I ask, slipping into the water. Sadie nods, walking out as she throws her towel on the chair next to mine before putting two bottles of water on the side table. I don’t take my eyes off her, watching as she pulls the sundress from her body to reveal a blue bikini underneath. “Looking good, Sadie,” I say, motioning to her, to the muscles that now define her body. She smiles, even as she blushes. “Apparently going to the gym has its benefits.” I chuckle, my hand out as she walks toward the pool ladder. She slips her hand into mine, taking the steps slowly until she’s standing in the water beside me. I don’t let go of her though, sliding our fingers together and tugging her closer. “Paul,” she whispers, her other hand moving to my bare chest. I slide my free hand over hers, holding it against my skin. Goosebumps spring up and I know she sees them, her eyes scanning my chest.

She swallows hard, not looking at me as she asks, “Is your ankle okay? You’re not putting any weight on it, are you?” The smile tugs at my mouth as I move my hand from hers, my fingers under her chin and tilting her face to mine. “I’m all good, Sadie,” I whisper. “I promise.” She nods, licking her lips again as she looks up at me, her eyes wide and filled with questions. “What are we doing?” It’s so soft, I barely hear it, but it doesn’t stop me from wrapping our ed hands behind her back. I pull her even closer, so her body is pressed against mine, her breasts now against my chest, only a thin scrap of material separating us. I cup her jaw in my hand, our eyes locked. I can see the fear in her eyes, along with the questions. What are we doing? What does this mean? But I’m done trying to figure out the answers, so without thinking about them anymore, I lower my mouth to hers. The groan falls from my throat as soon as our lips touch. Sadie gasps, her lips parting and allowing the tip of my tongue to touch hers. My hand at her jaw slides to the back of her neck, angling her better so I can deepen the kiss. It’s gentle though, almost as though we’re trying each other out, tasting what we know is probably forbidden or a bad idea. Neither of us stops though, her lips parting again as this time my tongue slips inside her mouth. Now it’s Sadie groaning, her hand curling on my chest as her nails dig into my skin. I slip my hand from her lower back to her ass, pulling her even closer so she can see exactly what this is doing to me as she moves her free hand to my hip and we continue our kiss. Eventually she pulls back, her eyes opening slowly as she stares up at me. Both of us are breathing a little harder, and I feel a smile tug at my mouth as she once again bites her bottom lip.

“What…” she breathes out. “What was that?” My smile widens. “That was something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

Chapter Nineteen

Sadie

I pull back but wanting so much more. My body is warring with itself, wanting to push against him, feel just how much what we’re doing is affecting him, yet something about it feels wrong. I’m married. “Paul, I can’t…” I start, looking down at the water, my stomach fluttering and my heart racing. “I’m married.” The words come out in a rush, pushing through my lips and easing the knot that has now tied itself in my stomach. “I know you are,” he replies as if this is inconsequential and maybe it is. “And I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’re married. I’m sorry I kissed you.” He steps back away from me now and my body screams in protest. Who gives a shit if I’m married! I certainly shouldn’t. My marriage is a piece of paper only, something that claims Noel and I are together when in actuality we haven’t been in years. A marriage of convenience is what we were and it’s taken me this long to realize it. He never cared about my feelings or considered me when he was making all the rash decisions he made, so why the hell am I even giving this a second thought. Because I have a name to uphold, a movie to promote and having cheater attached to it will only make it all look bad. Even if I’m in the process of a divorce, the press doesn’t care. They’ll spin this however they want and right now Noel is on an upswing and I’ll look like the shitty wife. “Please don’t be sorry,” I say, sympathy for what I’ve just put his body through. “It’s my fault. I married the asshole. But fuck, trust me when I say stepping out

of this pool is going to be the hardest decision I’ve ever made.” “No one needs to know, Sadie.” His words are a murmur on his lips, filled with insinuation and seduction, and holy shit, I had no idea words could make my legs quiver and make me feel like I need an orgasm immediately. He steps closer to me and my body screams to go to him. “But I’ll know and eventually the press will know and…” I can’t finish my thought, climbing out of the pool because the longer I stand here with him, the harder it will be to say no. “I want this, Sadie and I want you,” Paul says, and again his words appeal to my body. “But I understand and I’m going to say one more thing.” He takes in a deep breath, looking up at me as I stand on the edge of the pool. “Choose you. Choose what you want and fuck everyone else.” “I have to go…go to the set. I have work to do.” My words are quiet, yet somehow ear-piercingly loud. I’m about to ruin what we have, the friendship we built, and I hate myself for it. “You’re running away,” Paul says, but there’s no malice in his tone, no blame. “I am, but please don’t leave,” I say, begging just a little, like I have any place to demand things of him. “I’ll be here when you get home.” And there’s something in his words that breaks my heart. His loyalty to someone who doesn’t care enough to stay should be exactly what I need to hear, but it’s not. I race up the stairs, leaving wet footprints in my path and striping out of my suit as I go. Tossing it onto the bathroom floor, I throw on a sundress and a pair of underwear, slipping my feet into my flip-flops; I’m out the door before Paul can even get himself out of the pool. As soon as I hit the solace of my car the tears start. I’m a horrible person. I’m just as bad as Noel. Leading Paul on. And he’s right, I need to choose myself, but I hate what that looks like to the public. I’m already plastered on every tabloid, made to look like the submissive wife who let her husband go on tirades and ruin people’s lives. This movie is all I have left of salvaging my career and as much as I want to run with any publicity is good publicity, this is my life, this

is Paul’s life; this isn’t a movie. I pull into the set parking garage, looking in the rearview mirror I swipe at the puffiness under my eyes, like that will make it go away. I climb out and hope like hell the set is empty. I had given everyone the day off because the next few days our shooting schedule is jammed with long hours and emotionally draining scenes. I had no clue that my life would be just as emotionally draining. I go right to my trailer, pulling out the scene notes, I begin to read through them. I make a few adjustments and shoot off emails to let the writers, producers and crew know of the changes. But as I sit here, I realize I’m doing what I always do. I’m burying myself in my work to avoid anything of substance. It’s what I’ve done for years; it’s what I do when I can’t handle life. It’s how I’ve learned to cope with marrying Noel, and I realize it’s not fair to Paul. He isn’t Noel, far from it actually and for once in my life I need to confront something head on. I need to stop avoiding conflict to keep the peace. For so long this job has been my life, a way of controlling what I can’t control. Writing and directing lets me dictate exactly how everything should be when my own life is out of control. It gives me the comfort I need, but now I just need to let it all go. I need things to implode. I need chaos. I don’t want someone else controlling my decisions. It’s why I’m divorcing Noel. It’s why I took this job and it’s why I’m back in L.A. I throw down my pen, watching it bounce on the desk and I laugh out loud when it crashes to the floor. I don’t bother to pick it up nor do I clean off my desk before I leave. I just grab my purse and leave it all as is, because right now there’s something bigger I need to do.

I don’t call his name when I walk in the house. I head straight for the living room and when he’s not there I try the theater, his bedroom and the pool, still

coming up short. But it hits me and I know exactly where he is and as I take the stairs two at a time, I can hear the quiet humming of the music playing and the dropping of weights. The smile that spreads across my face pushes me on, making me feel like I can take on the world. I stop in the doorway to the gym, Ray LaMontange’s “The Best Thing” playing loud enough that he doesn’t hear me and I watch him for a few seconds. The muscles in his arms flexing as he lifts, his stomach clenched, and his body is that of perfection. Besides the boot he shows no signs of his injuries, all the bruising now faded and he moves as if it never happened. Every nerve in my body is pulsing, shooting sparks like I could ignite at any moment and when Paul sits up and sees me, his face is awash of pure surprise. He lifts his chin, his lips parting slightly and his eyes roam down my body and back up to my face, but neither of us speaks. I don’t waste any time, stalking over to where he’s straddling the weight bench and I find myself climbing on top of him. My hands tangle in his hair, pulling his mouth to mine and when our lips connect, it’s the explosion I’ve been waiting for. It’s intense and I feel like I’m floating. There’s desperation in our touch, his hands grope my body, our mouths explore and our tongues entwine. I moan out loud when his tongue runs along my teeth. “Paul,” I beg, shifting my hips against his, grinding into him and needing more. “I want to fuck you so bad, Sadie,” he growls, his mouth now moving to my breasts and biting through the fabric of my dress. My head is thrown back, moaning out his name again, I dig my fingers into the bare skin of his shoulders. “Then do it,” I tell him, pleading and needy. “Make me come, Paul. Make me forget anyone who came before you.” I reach between us pushing his shorts down his hips, I wrap my hand around him. The groan that falls from his lips encourages me. Stroking him gently and

without thinking about it anymore, I shift until he’s inside me, my panties pushed to the side. There’s a weightless desire between us, a newness to our union that I haven’t felt in forever. He lifts my dress over my head, his hands splaying out across my bare skin as I begin to move slowly. There’s an awakening in my body, a body I thought would be numb for the rest of my life. “It’s been so long, Paul,” I moan as he grips my hips, lifting me in time with my rhythm and the momentum speeds up, both of our breathing growing labored. “Look at me, Sadie,” he growls, his fingers digging into my flesh even more, and my eyes open, my lids heavy, my lips parted as I take in the comfort of his features. There’s an intense longing in his eyes as if he’s waited for this moment forever, as if he’s waited for me. I watch him as he watches me, our bodies connected, moving in time together, building to what we both know is coming. I block out all thoughts of what this might mean, what further disaster I might create for myself by being with Paul. And I kiss him until we’re both moaning, the sounds of our voices filling the room, conscious only of what we want to do to each other. We’re all hands and lips and exploring each other’s bodies, groping and grasping as desperation seeps into both of us. Oh, god, his scent, the taste of him as I run my warm tongue over his heated skin. It’s like tiny fireworks going off inside me, burning hot and dangerous, but I don’t care because he’s brought to life something in me I thought was dead. We move faster, one hand gripping my hip, the other wrapped around the back of my neck as our mouths crash together. Moving, moving, moving. In and out. Panting. “Paul!” I call out to the empty room and his hand trails down my body, between my breasts, along my stomach and between my legs, pressing right where I need

it. I come undone, clenching around him and he lifts his hips to meet mine. He pushes up, groaning out my name as he shudders and comes inside me. My head falls to his shoulder, our labored breathing echoing in the vastness of the room, the music now quiet. We’re sweat-covered and sated and tired, but something about this moment has never been closer to perfection. “You pushed up on your bad ankle,” I say and I feel him smile against the crook of my neck, his face now buried there. He laughs, his warm breath sending a chill down my sweaty body. Goosebumps pull at my skin and I shiver a little. “It was worth it,” he says, still smiling and I can hear the happiness in his voice, but it’s quickly replaced with apprehension. “And I came inside you bare.” As much as the implication of his words should have me questioning what we’ve just done, I find something innately sexual about them instead. “You did,” I tell him. “And you were the first.” “Ever?” “Ever,” I whisper, my mouth next to his ear, my tongue poking out and gently running along the shell. A possessive growl builds in the back of his throat and it has me smiling again. “Don’t worry, I have an IUD. I’m not that reckless.” “That’s too bad because the thought of trapping you with a baby…” He pulls back winking at me and making me laugh. “You’d be stuck with me forever.” “I already want to be stuck with you forever,” I it, the words slipping out before I can stop them. What the fuck? I can’t be one of those stupid girls who confuse sex for something more. I know it’s been a while, but shit. And then it hits me, Paul probably thinks he’s my rebound, like I’m using him to get back at Noel and I suddenly feel horrible. “But I don’t want you to think…” I start, trailing off, unsure of how to explain

myself. I shake my head, my eyes closing as I shame myself for ruining something that seems so perfect for a split second. “I don’t think anything. You came back. You came back to me. For me that’s enough. It can be more when you’re ready, but always to pay attention to who you’re with when you feel your best.” “It’s you and I want it to be more, but you have to understand I come with baggage. A lot of baggage,” I say, thinking about how the press will absolutely eat this story alive and then there’s Noel. “We all come with baggage, Sadie. And if you’re talking about your ex, the only thing that matters is I won.” “What do you mean you won?” I ask, pulling back, a confused look on my face, my nose wrinkling up. With his lips practically touching mine, his voice low, he murmurs, “I came inside you. He will never get that.”

Chapter Twenty

Paul

I pull back a little, stare up at her as she sits, still straddling me; me still buried inside her and my words floating between us, both of us knowing how significant they are. Sadie looks down at me, a look of both wonder and fear on her face. “We can do this,” I whisper, brushing my lips against hers. “We can?” “Yes,” I tell her. “We can. I want you, Sadie. I want this. And I know you do too,” I continue, still brushing my lips against hers. “So let’s fuck the baggage and everyone else.” She pulls back, her eyes searching my face. I slide my hands up, cupping her jaw as I smile at her. “You’re amazing, Sadie, don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.” A smile finally tugs at her lips, her eyes softening as she leans her forehead against mine. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” she murmurs, “but thank you.” I slip my arms around her waist, pulling her closer as I press a hard kiss to her mouth, thinking I’m the one who got lucky here. She kisses me back, a low moan falling from her mouth as she rocks against me a little, tempting me even though I already feel like I’d be ready to go in a heartbeat. “I think I might need a shower,” I eventually say. She smiles against my mouth. “Me too,” she whispers. “But I have a better idea.” I narrow my eyes at her. “A better idea?”

Sadie laughs, our bodies separating as she stands. I already miss her, the feel of her against me, the warmth of her body. “Come with me,” she says, grabbing my crutches and holding them out for me. I smile at her, standing in front of me in nothing but her panties, her dress discarded on the floor. I readjust my own shorts then stand and take the crutches from her, following her out of the gym and down toward her bedroom. Inside I take in the unmade bed, the clothes that are thrown on a chair in the corner. She glances back at me, a sexy smile on her face as she walks through to the attached bathroom. My eyes taking in the huge walk-in shower and separate bath, the dual sink and mirror that spans an entire wall. Sadie doesn’t stop though, moving toward the large glass window that I realize as she opens it, is actually a door. “Not too cold?” she asks, tilting her head toward the outdoor tub that sits on the balcony. I let out a low whistle as my eyes take in the view. “Hell no,” I tell her. She laughs, before moving to turn on the faucets. As the tub fills, I hobble over and Sadie turns to face me. “Want me to get your other boot?” she asks, pointing to my non-waterproof boot. I shake my head as I sit on the edge of the bath. “Nah, I just take it off when I shower now.” Her hands move to her hips as she glares down at me. “Should you be doing that?” I chuckle, my hands sliding onto her hips and pulling her closer so she stands between my legs. “Do you know how adorable you are when you’re telling me off?” I whisper, pressing a kiss against her stomach as I take her hand and move it to between my legs. “Really turns me on.” “Paul,” she murmurs, the fingers of her other hand sliding into my hair, holding my head so my lips are pressed against her skin.

I kiss a path up her ribs to her breast, sucking a nipple into my mouth as I now slide her panties down her hips until they fall to her feet. “So fucking beautiful,” I whisper, loving the gasp she lets out as I gently bite her breast, her eyes staring down at me, watching everything I’m doing to her. She moves her hands up my body to my face, angling it up so we’re looking at each other. I smile at her, watch as she stares back at me, her fingers tracing the lines of my face. I lean in, press a kiss between her breasts before unstrapping my boot and taking off my gym shorts. Sadie watches me the whole time and I know she notices how aroused I am again as I slip into the tub, holding out my hand to her. She climbs in, settling herself between my legs, her back resting against my front. I sink down into the water, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. “This is perfect,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. “I think you’re pretty perfect,” she says, looking up at me. A chuckle falls from my mouth even as I lean down to kiss her again, Sadie pushing up a little as she presses her lips against mine. Our kiss quickly turns hungry, both of us still wanting so much more as our lips and tongues collide, our breathing growing more labored. Without breaking the kiss, Sadie turns around so she’s practically lying on top of me, her fingers sliding into my hair and holding me to her as she runs her tongue along my bottom lip. “Fuck,” I growl, my hands slipping to her ass and pulling her up, settling her on my hips, my dick already rock hard and pressing against her, wanting more. She reads my mind, her hand moving between us as she grabs me, holding me in place as she slides down onto me. “Jesus, Sadie,” I breathe out. “God, that feels so good.” She sits up a little, her legs now on either side of me, her mouth still against mine, kissing me, hard, hungrily. “Paul,” she moans, the word almost a plea. I slip a hand between us as Sadie starts to rock against me, the water now

sloshing over the side of the tub, but neither of us caring about the mess. Maybe this is why she suggested we do this out here. “Oh fuck, yes,” she calls, her head falling back now as she continues to move against me. “God, yes. Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” I don’t have any intention of stopping, nor do I take my eyes off her, loving the way she looks as she rides me. The look of pure ecstasy on her face as I work my fingers against her is such a turn on. And I press a little harder, pushing her closer and closer to the edge until eventually she can’t take anymore and she’s screaming my name out into the night. I feel her body as it clenches around me, gripping me tightly and it’s enough to send me over the edge too, her name now echoing out as I come hard, not giving a shit who hears us. “Holy shit,” she breathes out, her forehead resting against mine. “So good…so damn good,” she pants. A soft laugh falls from my mouth. “Just wait till I’m back on both feet,” I whisper, pressing soft kisses to her lips. “Then I’ll show you really good.” Sadie laughs, her eyes filled with happiness. “I can’t wait.”

The following week, Sadie spends long days on set, but I know it’s because she has some really intense scenes to film and not because she’s avoiding me or this thing that’s happening between us. It’s late by the time she comes home at night, the two of us eating dinner together as she fills me in on her day, before we disappear upstairs to bed. Our nights are filled with our explorations of each other. Fingers tracing lines on skin as we learn each other’s bodies and all the different ways to turn each other on, the various ways we react to each other’s touch or each other’s mouth. It’s frustrating still having to wear the boot though, limiting the things I can do and I can’t wait for the day when I can finally take it off and do a whole lot more with her.

And even though she leaves early every morning, often on very little sleep, every night she comes to bed insatiable, sometimes waking me in the early hours wanting more, her hands roaming over my body and making it so easy to give her everything she’s asking me for. Neither of us mention the fact that I’m now sleeping in the bed she once shared with her husband and truth be told, if I didn’t know she was once married, I’d never know he existed. There’s no trace of him in this room, or even in the house and given how hungry Sadie is each night, I can’t help but wonder when he was last present in their marriage either. It astounds me that he’s this fucking stupid, giving up someone as amazing as Sadie, but I know guys like him thrive on women they can control, women who will never threaten them or their success.

When I wake on Friday morning, Sadie is long gone, the sheets on her side of the bed cool, even though the scent of her lingers. My phone, which now sits charging on the nightstand beside me, chimes out with a calendar alert, reminding me I have the first of my check-ups and physical therapy sessions today. After I shower and dress, I make myself some coffee while I wait for my Über to arrive. I’m certain if Sadie had known, she’d have taken the day off and offered to drive me, but I know my injury has caused enough problems on set. The last thing I want to do is add to them. “So, how are you feeling, Paul?” James, the PT asks as I follow him into the room. “Good. Excited to get this boot off.” James laughs. “Still four more weeks to go,” he says, glancing at his notes. “I know,” I say, letting out an exhale. “You think I can ditch these though?” I ask, holding out the crutches as I take a seat. James looks at me, before glancing at my notes again. “Mmm,” he says, hand scrubbing across his jaw.

“What does mmm mean?” I ask, a little too excitedly. “Well, there are two schools of thought on the whole weight bearing on a broken fibula,” he starts. “Half say you should because it’s minimal impact on this bone anyway and helps promote healing. Half say don’t.” “And where do you fit?” I ask, a bubble of hope in my chest. He waves his hand as though he’s undecided. “It’s really your doctor’s call,” he says. “And seems he thinks crutches for the full six weeks.” “Shit,” I murmur. “Let’s take a look,” James says, standing now as he walks toward me. “Maybe if it’s tracking well today, on occasion, it won’t hurt.” After James takes me through a range of movements to try and see how my ankle is healing and what sort of motion I have, he gives me a series of exercises and stretches to do on a daily basis. He also finally concedes that the occasional bit of weight bearing won’t hurt, but to try and take it easy. I’m definitely not allowed to get rid of the crutches completely. And while it’s still another four weeks till I get this damn boot off, it’s at least a step in the right direction. After my appointment, I’m too jazzed to go back home, my excitement at being out of the house for the first time since my accident is almost laughable. On a whim, I decide to head over to the set, figuring I can explain my appearance away by pretending I’m there to hand my PT report to HR. It’s pretty lame, but fuck it, I really don’t want to go back to an empty house right now. Gus sees me as soon as I hobble on set, a wide grin on his face as he comes over. “Look at you,” he says, laughing as he shakes my hand. “How’s it going?” I lean on my crutches, shrugging as I say, “Be glad when I’m off these damn things, but I’m okay. Nothing hurts anymore.” “That’s good,” he says as we make our way over to some chairs set up on the side. It looks like everything is being reset for a new scene and when I glance around, I see Sadie, busy talking to the grips as they move some furniture. The

two leads stand to the side, chatting as they study the script and the scene they are about to film. Sadie hasn’t seen me yet and as much as I’m itching to go and say hello to her, I know I have to maintain the illusion that I am not currently living with and sleeping with the director. “Paul?” I turn, realizing Gus has been talking to me and I haven’t heard a single thing he’s said. “Yeah?” Gus laughs, as he shakes his head. “I asked how much longer you’re stuck with them,” he asks, gesturing to my crutches. “Four more weeks,” I say, forcing myself not to look at Sadie. He nods. “And you’re still staying with this mystery friend of yours then?” he questions as he lifts his brow in question, even though the smile on his face tells me he knows something’s going on here. “I am,” I say, nodding as I turn back to the set. Sadie finally looks over, the surprise ing on her face as she lifts a hand and waves at me. I tip my head in her direction, giving her a smile. “Don’t s’pose this mystery friend of yours happens to be our director now, does it?” “What?” I ask, my head snapping around. Gus’ smile widens. “Just asking?” he says, shrugging. “I mean you’ve kinda been staring at her ever since you walked in here.” I swallow hard, not wanting to it to anything, but not wanting to lie to my friend either. Gus just laughs though, saving me the worry as he says, “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” I open my mouth to speak but am interrupted by Sadie, who appears in front of

me asking, “Hey, what are you doing here?” I turn, offering her a smile I hope doesn’t scream I’m having amazing sex with this woman as I say, “Just had my first PT session.” I pull the sheet of paper from my back pocket. “Wanted to get the report to HR. Make sure things are squared away.” Sadie smiles now, her bottom lip between her teeth as she steps closer. “Uh huh, and it’s not because you missed us all or anything now, is it?” Gus bursts out laughing, slapping me on the back before he stands and excuses himself. When he’s gone, I turn back to Sadie, who’s still watching me. “You’re okay if I’m here?” She steps closer, sliding her hand across my shoulder to the back of my neck. I feel mine instinctively move to her hip, even though I’m sure everyone is watching us, a million questions on their lips as I totally blow our cover. “I’m totally okay with you being here,” she says, smiling at me. “Can I get you anything, drink? Something to eat?” I grin up at her, my fingers squeezing her hip a little. “Dunno,” I say feigning uncertainty. “How about a quickie in your trailer?” Sadie bursts out laughing, her fingers tightening at my neck a little as she steps even closer. “Kinda in the middle of a scene now,” she whispers. “But how about before we head home?” My grin widens. “Sounds like a plan,” I tell her, before she wanders off to cue the next scene, both of us ignoring the stares from everyone, as though what’s just happened between Sadie and me is all totally normal.

Chapter Twenty-One

Sadie

It’s been about two weeks since Paul and I silently announced to the set that we’re a couple and like the consummate professionals they are, they’ve carried on as if it isn’t an issue. And why should it be? Nothing has slipped at all on set. We’re on schedule, the scenes have never been better, and we work like a well-oiled machine. Paul has even started to help out with small things on the set. Something I never thought I would accept in my life again after working with Noel, but Paul is different. He adds to my success in a way that never undermines it, allowing me to take control. Today Paul’s cheekily taking on an extra role and slipping himself into a few scenes, walking boot and all. I call action for the scene and the two main characters begin talking and walking along what is supposed to be a virtually empty street with the exception of a few people ing by or sitting on park benches. This is all set up on the backlot of the studio with an array of house facades making it look like a suburban street in any town in the United States. Everything about it is fake including the trees and grass, but yet it looks strikingly realistic. The houses are even made of Styrofoam and expertly painted by set designers. Even sitting only a few feet away, I can’t tell it’s all staged. I keep my gaze on Paul as he walks along the street, feigning a conversation with another extra and I can’t help but smile. He wants to be a part of what I do, to my dream even if it’s just as someone walking by the camera. There’s nothing in what he does that pushes to be more, to outshine me or my work. Just being close to me is enough for him. The scene has to be re-shot a few times and when we finally call cut on the final take, we break for lunch. Some of the stars are filming on-set interviews today and their assistants are quickly filling plates for them from the catering tables.

Paul offers to grab me some food while I review the scenes we just shot with the editing department. “Can you bring me a bottle of water and if they have it that chicken salad with the cranberries? If not, then a ham sandwich.” Paul nods his head, leaning down and kissing me quickly before he starts to walk away. Hating the idea of him hobbling to the catering area in his boot, I call out after him, “Are you sure you don’t want me to grab it? Or I can have Shannon do it. I feel terrible. Your ankle and all.” “Sadie,” he says, his words almost a reprimand, “I was doing nothing but lying around for the last two weeks and now that I’m free, I’d walk to craft services a thousand times for you if it meant I’d never have to use those crutches again.” “Fine,” I reply, teasingly shooing him off with a flick of my hand and ing how he never actually did any lying around. He’s a hard one to keep down.

When Paul returns with my food, the editing crew and I are laughing so hard we can hardly speak. Tears are streaming down our faces as one of the guys takes the reel back and pauses it. “Oh my god, Paul, you have to see this,” I say, my words coming out in hiccupping gasps of laughter. “What?” he asks, a confused look on his face as squats down next to me, leveling himself with the small screen and slipping on a pair of headphones. Once the scene is perfectly cued up, the editor hits play and it begins to roll. All of us watching and trying to control our laughter knowing this will be Paul’s first time seeing it. We don’t want to ruin it for him. I stop watching the screen and watch Paul’s face for the moment when he realizes what the editor has done. It’s not something that will probably stay, but it’s definitely something that has made this set a little more fun today. “Ha ha, real funny guys,” Paul says, feigning annoyance as we mock his injury.

The editor had magnified the sound of Paul’s boot as he walked making it sound far louder than it really is. It’s like step, thump, step, thump and it builds as he comes into view in the scene. Once again we’re all laughing hysterically, and I’m sure it’s just on-set humor, but it’s certainly making for a good time. “I’m pretty sure it’s not nice to make fun of the injured,” Paul says, now standing with his hands on his hips, looking down at me. “Oh come on, Paul,” I say back, taking his hand in mine. “You have to it it’s really funny even if it is at your expense.” “Fine, fine, but you aren’t leaving it in there!” He’s now pointing at one of the editors, but I jump in. “We are totally leaving it,” I say, deciding in that moment it will bring an element of humor to the film that maybe only everyone working on the set will know. Something that will bind us all and something they can share with friends and family when they see the movie. Kind of a secret from the set.

Paul and I are at the set late, well after shooting has wrapped for the day, but there are still some of the crew left. Paul is helping the set designers organize things for tomorrow’s early shoot and I’m reviewing a few reels from the day. Things are quiet and I can’t the last time I was on a set where I felt so comfortable. The door to my trailer opens and I think nothing of it, calling to Paul that I’m working in the back. Not that it’s all that big, but when he doesn’t answer and I don’t hear the telltale sound of his booted foot thumping, I realize it can’t possibly be him. Jumping up from my chair, I come face to face with Noel in the small hallway of the already confined space. I choke back the scream I feel pulling at my throat. He shouldn’t be here and he knows that. We’re done.

We’ve been done. “What are you doing here?” I demand, but the words come out softer than I plan. A small bit of unease comes through and I wonder just how far he’ll take things this time. “You don’t get to show up here whenever you want. This isn’t your set and I’m not your wife.” My confidence grows as I look him in the eyes and see he looks broken. He’s once again manipulating me, but I’ve learned now and I won’t allow him to take control of me. I push past him but he grabs hold of my wrist, his grip firm, but I tug back equally as hard. “You know things are good for me right now and the last thing you want is to distance yourself from me,” he says, a smarmy smile on his face as he once again tries to use his success to win me back. “I don’t need your career to make mine successful anymore. Honestly, I never did. That was your bullshit projected onto me.” I pull away from him when I feel his grip loosen. He’s not used to me asserting myself like this and his face is a wash of confusion. In the past I would’ve gone back to him willingly because I thought I had no other options. I was beat down and tired. None of this has to do with Paul or that I’ve gained the autonomy in my career back, but more of the fact that I can see things for what they are now. I can see Noel for what he is: a manipulative who preys on people like me. He can be on his way to find the next actress or director whose life he will ruin. “I don’t need this anymore. Look around, Noel. This is my set, my movie— written and directed by me and it’s going to be huge. You know it, I know it, the production company knows it and it’s killing you.” I move toward the door, opening it and stepping outside, because while Noel has never hit me, I have no idea how far he will take things. His career is teetering on the edge and while he landed this three-part movie deal, it doesn’t mean that things can’t change on the drop of a dime. It’s why he’s back here. I’m good for his image, I always have been. Our connection made him likeable, made him more human.

He follows me out the door, again reaching for me, his fingers closing around my wrist like they did in the trailer, but this time his grip is looser, and it could almost be perceived as kindness. Almost. “Listen,” he hisses, his mouth now close to my ear. “There are fucking pictures of you splashed all over the fucking tabloids.” “And I should care, why?” I spit back. “I don’t read the tabloids.” “Because they’re pictures of you with another man, Sadie,” he says and his words have a bite to them, a sense of shame, but he’s the only one who should feel shame. “Yeah?” I shoot back, but the question is more of a slap in the face to him than a question of shock. Like I care if the tabloids caught me with Paul. We haven’t been hiding anything and never planned to. Let the public think I’m cheating on my husband. Let the tabloids run their salacious stories. I know the truth and one day they will too. It might not be today or tomorrow or even a year from now, but one day, people will know and I’ll sit back and bask in the knowledge that I made the choice long before they ever knew. “We’re still married,” he growls back, and I can tell he’s growing more and more angry at my inability to just give in. His face is red and his chest begins to rise and fall rapidly, and it’s taking everything in me not to laugh in his face. I want to ask him how it feels to be manipulated, to feel helpless in a situation, but I again pull away. “We’re getting a divorce, ?” I say, pushing back. “I’m not g the papers!” he screams and then quickly looks around the nearly empty set to see if anyone has heard him. His eyes shooting in both directions, searching for any last on-set stragglers who may come to investigate. “Then don’t. I’m done chasing you down for this shit. My lawyer will now and we’ll do things the hard way.”

“It doesn’t have to be the hard way,” he practically purrs and my stomach churns at the false kindness in his words. “We were good together once, Sadie. We can get back there.” His desperation in sickening and bile rises up into my throat, burning and reminding me his words are all lies. “We were never good together. You don’t have any idea what good feels like, but I do. I have someone now who s me, who believes in me, who would never manipulate me the way you did for all those years. We’re done, Noel.” My last words are said with infinite finality, and they have nothing to do with my relationship with Paul. Even if our connection only lasts through this movie, he’ll have taught me more about respect and reciprocation in a relationship than I ever learned from Noel in the ten years we were together. “He’s using you,” Noel says, and I know he’s now in retaliation mode. He’s desperately running through every way he can work his way back into my head. “He’s not,” I spit back, even though I don’t need to defend myself. It’s an argument we shouldn’t even be having. “He is and he’s going to walk out on you when you don’t make him a star. That’s what they all want, Sadie. They all want to be a part of something huge. You can’t tell me you’re that stupid, that you’re that blind. He’s a fucking stuntman. He’s nobody on a movie set and somehow he picks you? Please.” I hate everything that comes out of his mouth. His words sting and for a split second I start to wonder. My face falls, my eyes move to where I know Paul is helping the set crew, and a string of thoughts run through my head. What if he is just using me? What if I am just that naïve, that stupid as Noel said? But when I look up and take in Noel’s face, I know none of this is true. A smile spreads across his lips, his eyes glaring at me with an evilness that burns like a fire in a dry forest. He’s always made anything that was mine his, and this time he doesn’t get to take this from me. “You need to leave,” I say, my words firm, my eyes never leaving his. “You aren’t welcome here and I’ll call security if you don’t.”

My hands are on my hips now, my stance and words a matching pair, but Noel doesn’t budge. There’s not a chance I’m giving in and even if it means I’m the one to walk away from this situation, then so be it. “Sadie, come on,” he says, his bottom lip pushing out a little, his eyes now turned down at the corners as he reaches for me. He’s disgusting. “Leave!” I scream, pushing up on my toes so my face is only inches from his. My hands are clenched into fists and for a split second I want to hit him. I want to beat the shit out of him. “No!” he screams back, his reddened face moving closer to mine, spit flying from his mouth. And that’s when I turn to walk away, but his hand snakes around my waist, pulling me against him. I struggle against him and before I can tell him to let me go, a voice in the shadows does it for me. It’s a voice I know and relief floats throughout my body, almost making me sag against the weight of Noel’s body. The shock of hearing someone else’s voice causes Noel to step back, releasing me and I walk over to where Paul is standing. Standing next to him, he slings an arm around my shoulder and we both stand looking at Noel. “Care to tell me why you were just all over my girl?” Paul says, his head tilted to one side, his words a harsh mix of intimidation and anger. And honestly I’d love the answer to that question, too.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Paul

Noel’s mouth opens and closes making him look like a goldfish as he stares at us, his eyes flicking between Sadie and me and not missing the way we are standing together, so obviously a couple. “Noel?” I prompt. His jaw snaps shut at his name as he swallows hard and his face reddens. “Do you know who you’re speaking to?” he spits out. I roll my eyes, a humorless chuckle falling from my mouth. “Yeah, a guy who can’t understand when to fuck off because nobody wants him around anymore.” I feel Sadie’s fingers tighten at my back, at my words as she presses her body against mine. I’m sure I’m risking making everything worse speaking to him like this, but I kinda don’t care. But to reassure her, I turn and press a kiss to the top of her head, my eyes never leaving Noel’s face. Of course, this only gets him worked up even more as his nostrils flare and he barks, “Your career is over!” “What, mine?” I ask, hand on my chest in mock disbelief as another laugh falls from my mouth. “You really think you have that much control over my career? Please.” Noel shakes his head as he takes a step toward us as though he actually thinks he can intimidate me. “Yours and hers,” he says, his hand flicking between us. Now it’s me shaking my head as I pull Sadie closer. “Nope, not hers either,” I tell him. “In fact, her career is only getting better and that’s not just because she’s an amazingly talented writer and director,” I say, leaving the rest unsaid

because we all know the other big reason. Noel stiffens, the anger radiating from him as he glares at me. I’m sure he’s wishing he could say or do more. Truth be told, so am I, but I’m not about to jeopardize anything for Sadie, so I force myself to stay put. “Should we go home?” I ask instead, turning to Sadie now. She looks up at me, an unreadable expression on her face as she says, “Yeah,” before turning to Noel and adding, “Next time you show up here, I’m calling security and then the police.” We turn and walk away, my arm still wrapped around her shoulders as we both feel the wrath of Noel’s stare in our backs. Sadie feels tense in my arms, so I try and lighten the situation by murmuring a low thump every time my boot hits the ground, just like she added to the scene we shot today. Her head falls to my shoulder as she pinches my side and I press a kiss to the top of her head. “You okay?” Sadie nods, but says nothing. I don’t push it, knowing of course she won’t be okay, not when her dickhead ex-husband storms onto her set and does something like he just did. As much as I know she tries to act tough, it has to bother her, him creating a scene like that. She’s quiet on the ride home too, neither of us saying much more than agreeing on something for dinner, which we grab on the way. When we finally get inside though, Sadie visibly exhales, her body almost sagging in on itself as though she can finally stop trying to hold herself up against it all. “Come here,” I whisper, pulling her into my arms as we stand in the kitchen, the silence of the house surrounding us. She rests her head against my chest, her arms wrapped around my waist. I can feel her heart pounding as it rests against mine. Sliding my hands up her back to her neck, I cup her face and angle it so she’s looking at me. “Talk to me,” I tell her.

Sadie shrugs. “It’s nothing,” she says. “Bullshit.” I watch as she takes a deep breath, letting it out in a long slow exhale. “What are we doing here?” she finally asks. “What do you mean?” I reply, confused. “You and me, Paul. What are we doing?” “Um, well I thought we were seeing each other,” I say, still confused. “You know, dating, boyfriend and girlfriend type of thing,” I add, feeling a little like I’m fifteen years old again. Sadie stares up at me, her face still unreadable as she asks, “For how long?” For how long? The question, the one she’s really asking, rings loud in my ears. Even though I hadn’t stepped in right away, it didn’t mean I hadn’t heard everything that idiot ex of hers had said to her tonight. All the bullshit and lies he spewed, the ideas he put in her head as he once again tried to manipulate and control her life to suit him. “Please don’t tell me you believe him?” I whisper. She shakes her head. “I don’t know what to believe, Paul,” she says, her words tinged with sadness. “I hate that he makes me doubt everything I do now, everything I feel, but it’s…it’s ten years of putting up with his lies and his games; ten years of…” “I’m not using you,” I say, cutting her off. “I’m not using you and I don’t want to be a movie star and I’m not trying to get anything out of you other than to just be with you. Just be with you, Sadie.” “But…” “I could’ve gone home, you know,” I continue, not letting her question this. “Could’ve gone back to Canada after the accident, when I couldn’t walk and I

sure as shit couldn’t work. But I didn’t,” I add, pausing as I stare at her. “Do you know why?” She shakes her head and it kills me that she still doubts this. Doubts us. I smile though, desperate to reassure her. “Because I wanted to stay here with you,” I it. “I didn’t know how I could possibly justify it, but I wanted to be here anyway.” “But we weren’t even…you know, together,” she whispers, blushing a little. I chuckle, brushing my thumb across her cheek. “I know,” I tell her, this time brushing my lips against hers. “Didn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about it,” I add, kissing her again. “Hoping that maybe, somehow we could be.” My mouth brushes across hers, barely touching her. “He’s not g the divorce papers,” she blurts out, that sadness in her eyes now replaced with regret. “He’s just doing it to spite me, but he’s going to make this hell for me, for us.” “We’ll get through it, Sadie,” I whisper, pulling back a little and tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. “He doesn’t scare me and he shouldn’t scare you.” “I know,” she says, nodding. “But he’ll make this look bad for us,” she adds, tears pooling in her eyes now. “He’ll spin this so it’s our fault. That we’re the ones who…” “Sadie,” I say firmly. She stares up at me, a single tear now making its way down her cheek. I brush it away with my thumb before leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. “It’s just you and me here,” I murmur against her mouth. “There’s no him, no matter how hard he tries to change that.” “Paul,” she whimpers as her mouth crashes against mine now, kissing me hard, hungrily, as though she’s trying to tell me something she doesn’t have words for. I slip my arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer as I deepen the kiss, desperate to show her how much I mean what I’m telling her. When we eventually pull back, both of us are breathing a little harder. “Don’t ever let him make you doubt yourself,” I say, my gaze locked with hers. “Not your talent, not your choices and definitely not us, okay?”

“Okay,” she says, nodding.

The next morning, Sadie and I are lying in bed, both of us taking advantage of a rare day off during filming. It’s quiet and peaceful, the large glass sliding doors of her bedroom wide open, filling the room with sunlight and a soft breeze. She’s lying on her stomach beside me, hands tucked under the pillow and her eyes closed even though I know she’s not sleeping, especially when she lets out a deep sigh. “What are you thinking about?” I ask, rolling my head on the pillow so I’m looking at her. She opens her eyes. “I’m not.” I smile. “Yes you are,” I tell her. “I can hear it.” She takes another deep breath, propping herself up on her elbows. “What do you have going on after this movie?” she eventually asks, her gaze fixed with mine. I pull a hand from behind my head, sliding my arm across the sheets and beneath her. “Come here,” I whisper, pulling her closer. She slides over, propping herself on my chest, eyes watching me as I tuck strands of hair behind her ear before running a finger down her nose. “Are you asking because you’re worried or because you genuinely want to know?” “Both?” she says, shrugging. I chuckle. “I’ve had another job offer,” I it. “Although I haven’t committed.” “Where’s it filming?” My thumb brushes across her cheekbone. “London.” Sadie licks her lips before dragging the bottom one between her teeth. “Whose movie?”

I tug at her lip with my thumb, pulling it from her teeth before leaning up to kiss her. “Aiden Morrissey’s,” I tell her. “New guy, he’s the dude dating Julia Harris.” Sadie’s brows raise in surprise. “Yeah, I know Julia,” she says. “Never met him, but I hear good things about his script,” she adds. “It would be a great movie for you.” I shrug. “Yeah, maybe.” “What, you’re not sure?” she asks. “I can talk to Julia if you want or her PA. She used to work for Noel, before…” I smile at her, pulling her closer as I brush my lips against hers. “I haven’t decided yet,” I whisper. “Because I wanted to see what your plans were.” “My plans?” “Yes,” I repeat, kissing her again. “What do you have going on after you finish filming?” Sadie huffs out a breath, resting her chin on her hands, which lay across my chest. “The usual,” she says. “Edits, reshoots, post-production, promo.” “Sounds busy,” I say. “Yeah, it will be.” “Long days,” I add. “Yep.” “Probably not much time off either?” “Nope,” she confirms, shaking her head. “Which would suck even more with the time difference in London.” “Uh huh.” “Oh well,” I say, smiling. “Guess I’ll turn it down.”

“Paul, no,” she says, pushing up on her arms now. “I can’t ask you to do that, no, absolutely no.” “Sadie,” I murmur, pulling her closer. “You’re not asking me to do anything,” I whisper, brushing my lips against hers. “But…” “But nothing,” I say, kissing her again. “I’m doing what I want to do,” I add. “Seriously.” Sadie stares at me, as though she’s trying to work out if she can believe me. But she can, because it all feels so oddly easy, giving up a job to be with her. To me, it’s a no-brainer, because she is where I want to be and who I want to be with. “But, Paul,” she whispers, eyes locked with mine. “But what?” I ask, grinning, even as I force myself to ignore the voice in my head that reminds me I was never prepared to do this before. That a job was always a job and Helena was always going to be there waiting for me when I eventually came back home. “But why?” I slide a hand into her hair, holding her to me. “Because of you,” I whisper against her lips. “Besides,” I add, wanting to lighten the moment a little before she totally freaks out on me. I slide a hand down to her ass, squeezing it as I add, “I haven’t worked you this hard just to disappear and let you slack off.” I give her butt a hard smack, making her squeal. “Someone’s gotta keep you in line now, don’t they?” Sadie finally laughs, wrinkling up her nose as she asks, “Do they?” Slipping my other hand down to her ass, I haul her up so she’s straddling my hips. “Uh huh.”

“You want some breakfast?”

Sadie rolls onto her side, her warm body pressed against mine. “Stamina for the next round?” she whispers, her mouth against my ear. “Maybe,” I chuckle. She leans in, pressing a quick kiss to my mouth. “You stay here, I’ll get it.” She rolls away and out of bed before I have a chance to argue. “Fuck, I’ll be so glad when this damn boot is off and I can do shit like a normal person.” “You know,” she says, standing naked at the side of the bed, her eyes raking over my body. “For a guy with a broken ankle, you’re still pretty damn good at doing a lot of things.” “Oh, is that so,” I ask, grinning as I tuck my hands behind my head. “Yep,” she says, nodding. “Doesn’t really seem to hold you back much at all.” Laughing, I lean over, my hand reaching for her as I say, “How about we forget about breakfast and you get that sweet little ass of yours back in bed?” “Uh uh,” she says, jumping back a little. “Refuel and rehydrate, ?” she says, winking. “I believe you taught me that one.” “Ugh, damn you for being such a good student,” I huff, flopping back onto the bed. Sadie giggles as she turns and struts out of the room, swinging her hips and teasing me with that gorgeous ass of hers. At the door, she pauses, glancing back at me as she adds, “I’ll be right back.” I watch until she disappears from view before stretching my arms above my head, a long, satisfied groan falling from my mouth. Downstairs, I can hear Sadie moving about the kitchen, humming to herself. I close my eyes, enjoy the moment as I lie here in her bed, absolutely no plans and the rest of the day in front of us. A ringing phone cuts through the moment, my eyes flying open as I reach for mine, only to realize it’s not the one that’s ringing. Leaning over, I see it’s Sadie’s, a name I recognize, flashing on the screen.

“Sadie, your phone!” I call, even as I see my thumb sliding across the screen to answer it. “What?” she calls out, at the same time as I say, “Hello?” “Oh, shit, sorry, I think I have the wrong number.” I laugh, “Hey, Ava, and no you don’t,” I tell her. “It’s me, Paul. Paul Walker.” “Paul?” she repeats. “But what…I mean, but…but I called Sadie Washington?” Chuckling, I fall back onto the pillow. “I know,” I confirm. “I’m with her.” “You’re with her?” Ava says, her voice lowering to a whisper. “I am,” I say, still laughing. “As in…” “As in I’m here in her house, lying in her bed…” “Whoa, okay, got it,” she says, cutting me off. Another laugh falls from my mouth. “Yeah, so we’re seeing each other,” I continue. “I guess that’s kinda obvious. Anyway, how are you?” I ask. “I haven’t seen you in, what, forever?” Ava laughs now. “Yeah, it’s been a while,” she says. “But I’m good, got married, now living in London. Have a dog, a house and everything.” I let out a laugh. “Wow, you got hitched huh? Congratulations!” “Thanks.” “And back working with Julia again, too?” “Yep,” she says. “Thank god. Beats working for Noel.” “Yeah I’m guessing that’s a nice change?” “Hmmm,” she murmurs. “And I’m guessing you’re learning all about my old

boss?” I shove a hand through my hair and behind my head. “Yeah, you could say that.” “Well, speaking of,” she says, her words serious now. “Is Sadie there? I really need to speak to her.” “Um yep, hang on,” I say, just as Sadie appears in the doorway. “It’s for you,” I tell her, holding out the phone to her. “It’s Ava.” Sadie walks into the room, a confused expression on her face as she puts a tray of food and two mugs of coffee on the side table. “You know Ava?” I nod, shaking the phone at her. “Yeah, we worked on a movie together,” I say. “One of the Fast & Furious ones.” Sadie looks at me, a strange expression on her face. I shake the phone again, watching as her eyes move to it, her expression darkening because we both know the likely reason for this call. Fucking Noel Robinson.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Sadie

I’d be lying if a bit of panic didn’t settle itself in my throat at hearing Ava’s name and knowing she’s waiting to talk to me. It’s not like I’ve completely ignored her, but I’ve been avoiding her since I know she’s working with that reporter to bring Noel’s story to life. She’s helping to give a voice to something that has remained hidden for almost all of Noel’s career, a career I’ve been a part of, and I know what that looks like to the outside observer. People will blame me for not controlling him. I’ll be looked at as compliant or in on the whole conspiracy. What he’s done tarnishes the industry’s name, but even worse, I was a part of it all. I stood silently by and watched him berate people, I watched him ruin people’s careers with one phone call and I never did more than tell him to stop. I’m as much to blame for this as he is. I take the phone from Paul with a shaky hand and as if he can sense my unease, he slips from the bed and plods down the stairs giving me some privacy to talk to Ava. “Hey Ava,” I say, once Paul is out earshot. “Paul, huh?” She replies and I can hear a teasing quality in her voice that makes me smile a little. “That was quick.” There’s no judgment in her words, if anything she sounds thrilled. “Yeah, it was, but I think it was a long time coming,” I reply, trying to play casual. “Wait you and Paul knew each other already, too?” Ava asks, her voice going up a little at the end in a way that suggests I clearly should’ve chosen Paul over Noel.

“No, no, nothing like that. I guess I just meant meeting someone like Paul was a long time coming. You know…” I trail off, wondering if I need to explain that I clearly should’ve left Noel years ago. Hell, I should’ve never even gotten involved with him. “But never mind that. How are you? How are things in London?” “I’m good. Things here are good. I’m working at the pub and doing some work for Julia. How are you?” Her question comes out like she already knows the answer, like she knows things are a shit show. “I’m okay. The movie is coming along nicely other than Paul getting hurt on set and I have a few other things lined up.” I try to play things as casual as possible even though I know she isn’t just calling to catch up. “That’s great. Well, not Paul getting hurt, but hey, that’s the life of a stuntman, right?” We both laugh a little and the conversation falls quiet for a few seconds. “So…” Ava starts again, and here’s the real reason she’s calling. “I hate that this is the reason I reached out. It makes me a shitty friend and I should be calling more, but Roger, that reporter from The Guardian, he has his story together. It’s taken a long time. A lot of research, a lot of people coming forward and tons of information to shift through.” “Yeah,” I say, a defeated sigh leaving my mouth. I knew the day would come, but I had secretly hoped I would somehow be left out of it. That was impossible. Ten years together. Ten years of enduring what I did all because I felt I had no other option. But I guess what scares me the most is what I don’t know about Noel, what will be brought to light that has been hidden even from me. “He’d like to meet with you, Sadie,” Ava says, her words laced with sympathy. “I don’t think…” Ava cuts me off, her voice as comforting as possible. “Listen Sadie, he’d like to give you the opportunity to review his story before it’s published. He’ll come out

to L.A. to meet with you. Or wherever, but he’d like you to hear some of the things he found out before they’re made public.” The way she says the last sentence makes my heart race. There are things I don’t know about Noel, but do I really want to know? Can’t I just live in the dark, hiding from the press? I’ve always known that things occurred without my knowledge and I’ve always had an idea that these things would affect me directly, but I’ve avoided confronting that. But now, now it’s about to hit me right in the face. I’m silent too long and Ava begins talking again. “He isn’t out to trash your name. He wants to protect you as much as he can. He understands you were just…” “I was just what? Weak? Too stupid to leave?” I hear the words as they fall from my lips and they sound harsh and defensive. They sound like the words of someone who is just as guilty as Noel. I’m not an innocent bystander and I don’t want to be portrayed that way. I’d rather this reporter call it like it is than make me out to be another one of Noel’s victims. “Hell no!” Ava practically shouts. “You were manipulated and taken advantage of. Sadie, you were in an abusive relationship and no one blames you for that.” “It is what it is and I have to live with what happened,” I tell her, not looking for sympathy, but I need to move on from all of this and forget it ever happened. By inviting this reporter into my life, that’s going to be hard to do. “Please, just schedule a meeting with him. Just listen to what he has to say. He’s not asking for your help or for you to his story. He has all the s and witnesses and…” She stops there because she was about to use the word victims and when anyone hears that word their thoughts go to dark places. She doesn’t want me to feel guilty, but I already do. “He just doesn’t want you blindsided by it all.” I want to ask her what he’s found, I want to hear it all right now, but I also know how much it’s going to hurt. No one wants to put him or herself in a situation where you hear the worst about a person you once thought you loved, but even more so, no one wants to hear about how they were involved too.

“Fine,” I concede, knowing it would be better coming directly from the reporter rather than reading it in the press. This way I can prepare my family and friends too. I have a feeling there are some things in this story that might ruin my parents and I have to think about them too. “He’s already tried reaching out. I’ve got his card. I’ll get in touch with him.” I sound defeated once again, beaten down by Noel indirectly. No matter what I do I can’t seem to get away from him. “As much as this all sucks, I think you’ll be happy you met with him,” Ava adds, but there’s no way happiness will be involved in this meeting. “Yeah, okay.” My words are short and suddenly this whole conversation feels like a dream. Is this really happening? Will my name ever not be associated with Noel Robinson? “I’m sorry, Sadie. I really am, but I promise you, Roger will…” I cut her off. I can’t listen to the pity I continue to hear in her voice. I don’t deserve it. “I know you are and it’s okay. I wasn’t forced to marry him. I wasn’t forced to stay. And I wasn’t forced to protect him. I did this all on my own. Thanks for the heads up.” I close out the conversation quickly, hanging up before she can say anything more. I toss my phone on the rumpled white sheets, a reminder that just moments ago I was happy, a reminder that I’m hiding from everything. My phone vibrates with a text, but I don’t bother looking at the screen. It takes me a few seconds to pull myself back together, pushing back the tears that threaten to escape. I step outside into the sunshine, leaning against the glass railing as I look out onto the view of L.A. Just like Ava’s phone call, it’s all a reminder that I left London. I left because I was once again running away. I can hear Paul coming up the stairs and I quickly swipe at my eyes, but I don’t turn around when I hear him enter the bedroom.

“How’d the call go?” he asks, coming up behind me. “It was fine.” Every word that comes out of my mouth sounds like a lie and there’s no way he doesn’t notice. “What did she have to say?” he now asks, but he isn’t prying. I know Paul is concerned about me, and his questions are only there to me. “She wants me to meet with the reporter who is doing the story on Noel.” “Are you going to do it?” “I don’t know,” I tell him, wondering why the hell I even agreed to when I was on the phone with Ava. “Why wouldn’t you?” he asks back, his arms slipping around my waist and pulling me into his chest. There’s something so comforting about him. The smell of his skin, the warmth I feel when he’s touching me, but it still does nothing to ease the anxiety I feel coursing through me. “Aren’t you ever afraid of the unknown? There’s so much unknown in all of this and I don’t know if I’m…” Paul’s words interrupt me before I can finish. “Are you sure it’s the unknown you’re afraid of?” he asks. I shrug my shoulders but give no other response. “I think you’re afraid of the truth,” he says, his chin now resting on the top of my head. “You’re afraid of what has been out there all along, afraid of it being said out loud and confirming what you’ve been hiding. “I’m not hiding anything,” I quickly bite out, that defensiveness back again. “I’m not saying you’re hiding it purposely, but I think you’ve had an idea of what’s been happening, an idea of what he’s done, but saying it out loud is a hell of a lot harder than keeping it inside your head.” “I don’t want to know what he’s done,” I whisper, my words nearly lost in the air, swallowed up by the din of the city wordlessly moving in the background.

“I know you don’t, because it’s going to hurt.” Paul’s arms hold me tighter, my face now buried in his chest. I nod my head, but say nothing more because speaking right now will bring tears, tears I’m not entitled to because I was just as much a part of this as Noel is. “I think you should call him and as hard as it’s going to be, it’s for the best. Knowing what his article says may help you come to with what’s happened.” Come to with what’s happened. His words ring loud in my ears. I’m going to need to do a hell of a lot more than come to with what’s happened. I’m going to need a fucking therapist to sort through it all. I’ve kept it all a well-buried secret, not just from the press, but also from my family, my friends and myself. A lump forms in my throat as my thoughts are consumed with everything that has plagued me over the years. All those times I turned my back when I should’ve spoken up, all those times when I walked away because hearing him or seeing his behavior was too much to bear. But more than any of this, I think about one thing specifically. It’s the one thing that has stayed hidden, the one thing I’ve told myself can’t possibly be happening, but I knew it was. Deep down I knew it.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Paul

Sadie and I stand on the balcony, both of us lost in thoughts of her ex-husband and all the shit we both know he’s said and done. I don’t need Sadie to tell me any of it or to confirm the rumors that have run rampant through Hollywood for years. Because I know most of them are true. I’ve seen it with my own eyes, having worked on several of his movies in the past. I know these stories all originate in a truth. A truth so many of us are guilty of ignoring and pretending never happened. The way he treats his staff, the humiliation and the constant walking on eggshells he puts them through. The way he treats his movie stars; swinging from nauseating flirting to outright hostility. The way he uses them, forces them to do things they are clearly uncomfortable doing. And the way he doesn’t give a shit who he steps on, or who he pushes aside to get what he wants—including his wife. It’s something I’ve watched happen and it’s something I’ve never liked. But it’s also something I’ve ignored like everyone else, figuring I was too much of a nobody to ever make a difference by speaking out. But now people are speaking out. Everyone except the one person I know must hold more secrets than anyone else. Secrets no one knows about. It kills me that she’s forced to carry this burden, to be faced with this decision, knowing the difference it could potentially make to so many people. “You okay?” I eventually ask, knowing she’s not and probably won’t be for a

very long time. Sadie shrugs in my arms, her cheek still resting on my chest. “How about we do something fun today?” I suggest now, not wanting to waste anymore time thinking about this. “Don’t think about whether you should talk to this reporter,” I add, kissing the top of her head. “And don’t try to imagine what kind of story he might have written. Let’s just take the day. Forget about everything else except you and me having some fun.” Sadie looks up at me, her chin resting on my chest. “What do you suggest?” she asks. I smile down at her, before leaning in to press a kiss to her lips. “Well, we could go back to bed,” I whisper. “I believe you might have mentioned something about round two?” Sadie finally cracks a smile. “I could be talked into that.” My head falls back with laughter. “Talked into it?” I repeat, shaking my head as though I can’t believe it’s come to this. “I’ve gotta convince you it’s a good idea?” Sadie laughs, her hands sliding up my back as she pulls me closer. “No, you don’t have to talk me into anything, Paul,” she murmurs. “I’d gladly go back to bed with you.” “Good answer.”

A couple of hours later and Sadie and I are finally dragging ourselves from her bed, both of us decidedly more relaxed than we were this morning after Ava’s phone call. There’s been no more talk about the reporter or the story we both know is coming. No more talk of Noel either and the shit storm we both know this is going to create. Instead, both of us are all about having fun on a rare day off as we shower, pull on some clothes and then head out to do something neither of us does that often, despite the industry we work in—watch a movie.

“Any preference?” I ask as we head toward the theater. Sadie gives me a wry smile as she drives. “Nothing of his.” I chuckle. “Absolutely not,” I tell her. “What are you in the mood for?” Sadie shrugs. “I don’t care. Something mindless and entertaining,” she adds, shooting me a quick glance. “The kinda thing I can half watch in case I decide to make out with you in the back row.” The laugh falls from my mouth as I turn in my seat to face her, my hand resting on the back of her neck. “In case you decide?” I repeat, glad her playful side is back. “Hmmm,” Sadie says, smirking a little. “Hmmm indeed,” I say, leaning over the center console as I start to nuzzle her neck. “Consider me ready to convince you then,” I whisper, sucking at the spot just below her ear that always has her melting against me. Inside the theater, both of us go unnoticed. I’m never actually noticed because no one even knows I’m in the movie industry. Being a stuntman means I’m never seen, constantly made up or framed to look like the lead actor. It’s good because I can do a job I love in an industry I enjoy working in, without all the bullshit that the full-blown movie stars have to put up with. My life is normal even if I do get invited to movie premieres and regularly mingle with award winning movie stars. Sadie though, with everything that happened on her last movie with Noel, is definitely a person most people now recognize. Particularly with their divorce and her clearly making a move to distance herself from him with her new movie and her move back to L.A. “Popcorn?” I smile, slinging an arm around her shoulder as we wait at the counter. “Hell yes I want popcorn,” I say, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “If we’re making out in the back row, I want the whole movie experience.”

Sadie giggles, her head falling against my shoulder as I buy our tickets, a massive tub of popcorn, two sodas and a box of M&Ms. “We’re going to need to hit the gym after this,” she says, as we make our way into the already darkened theater. “Don’t worry,” I say as I hobble up to the back row. “I’ve got the perfect workout in mind.” We end up settling on the latest Fast & Furious movie, which I’m actually interested in seeing, even though I make good on my promise to convince Sadie about the making out part. The two of us are like a pair of horny teenagers, kissing and groping each other in the back row and given how empty the theater is, it’s tempting to try and take things even further. I force myself to hold back though, knowing if we got caught, this would absolutely not be good publicity for Sadie. After the movie, we head outside, both of us turning our phones back on as we head toward the car. Almost immediately, we are both hit with the sounds of incoming messages, as though something major has gone down in the two hours we’ve both had them off during the movie. I glance at the screen of mine as Sadie does the same with hers. “Oh shit,” she mutters and I immediately know why. My screen is filled with text messages and missed calls. From my sister, from Gus, from other friends back in Canada, all asking the same thing. Are you really dating her? You know she’s married right? What about Helena? God, Helena. I’m sure she’d be messaging me too if I hadn’t blocked her number on my phone. But either way, yeah, I am dating her and no she’s not exactly married anymore, so why is this such a big deal. We never tried to hide what was going on between us, the whole cast and crew know. God even her ex-husband

knows. But just as I think this, Sadie’s words from last night come back to me. He’s not g the divorce papers. A heavy weight lodges itself in my stomach as I turn to Sadie, knowing exactly what’s going to be on her phone now too. This isn’t about me and her, not even close. It’s about Sadie and Noel, Hollywood’s golden couple. “What’s happened?” I ask her as she flicks through the messages on her screen. Sadie shakes her head, her phone vibrating now with an incoming call from Shannon. I watch as she immediately sends it to voicemail, her fingers once again flicking up the screen, before she opens the web browser app and types in her and Noel’s names. The articles load immediately, headlines filling the tiny screen but somehow still screaming their message loud and clear to the world. “Two-Timing Sadie – walks out on their movie & dumps him for a younger man.” “Hollywood golden couple marred by cheating scandal – and it’s not who you think!” “Noel Robinson: fighting to save his marriage as his career soars.” “Fucking hell,” I say, reaching for Sadie’s phone as I close the app. “These people have no fucking idea.” Sadie turns to me, worry and confusion all over her face as she says, “Let’s go home. I need to make some calls.” “Sadie,” I say, hands on her shoulders. “Talk to me.” She nods once, even as she says, “Not here.” I know she’s right, even if I desperately want to sort this out right now, to reassure her that all of this gossip is just that, gossip.

He’s going to make this hell for me, for us… The words ring loudly in my ears, reminding me once again of just how much power this guy has. Not just in the industry, but over his wife’s life as well. And as much as I know Sadie is distancing herself from him, that she doesn’t want to reconcile their marriage or their working relationship, I know her words are true. He does have power and he does have the ability to make this hell for her. The car ride home is quiet, neither of us talking much as Sadie navigates her way back to her home in the Hollywood Hills. Just as she makes the turn into her street, I turn to her, unable to keep quiet any longer. “You know I’m not running from this, right?” I say, my hand squeezing her knee. “He doesn’t scare me and neither do those headlines.” Sadie nods, glancing quickly at me before turning back to the street. “I know,” she says. “But he’s gonna spin this in his favor, you know that, right?” “So we spin it in ours,” I say quickly, turning in my seat. “Talk to the reporter, Sadie. Get your story, your voice out there. Don’t let him dictate the story.” Sadie’s shaking her head before I’ve even finished. “He’ll spin that too, Paul,” she says sadly. “It’s what he does. Trust me, I know.” “But…” “And of course, I haven’t exactly spoken out before,” she adds, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. “So I’ll just look bitter and twisted speaking out now, in addition to being the bitch who basically allowed him to do all those things that will be in that story and the cheating whore who’s ruining our marriage.” Her words have a bite. “Sadie,” I say, pleadingly. “It’s too hard, Paul,” she says, eyes shining with tears. “What is?” I immediately ask, my heart thudding in my chest. “Us?” Sadie shakes her head. “No, not us,” she says sadly. “Him, this, my career or

lack of when all this comes out.” “Sadie,” I repeat, more firmly this time. “I’m not going to let him do that to you, I…” “You won’t be able to stop it.” Her words have no malice to them, they’re simply stated as the truth. And deep down, a part of me knows she’s right too. What the hell can I possibly do? Me, a lowly stunt man who no one even recognizes, much less knows, versus him, the powerful, well-connected Hollywood director. “Sadie,” I say again. But the rest of my words are cut off as we turn into her drive and the car is suddenly engulfed by paparazzi, cameras flashing and people yelling out to us, searching for comment or answers to the headlines we saw earlier. Sadie’s fingers tighten on the steering wheel as she buzzes the gate open and drives through, her jaw tight as she looks straight ahead, ignoring the crowd. I turn around, watching as the gates close behind us, all of them staying on the other side because they know they can’t risk coming into private property. Up at the house, Sadie switches off the engine but doesn’t move, her hands still gripping the steering wheel as her head falls. I get out and walk around to her side of the car, opening her door before leaning in to undo her seat belt. “Come here,” I say as I gently pull her from the car. She falls into my arms, her head resting against my chest as I slowly rub my hands up and down her back, my chin resting on the top of her head. “I need you to do something for me,” I eventually say, gently easing her back so she has to look at me. “What?” I smile, brushing a thumb across her lips. “I need you to believe you’re someone in all of this. That no one person, no man, regardless of how powerful or connected he is, no matter who he is, can define you.”

She stares up at me, her eyes wide as they search my face. “He always told me I was nothing without him,” she whispers, her eyes filling with tears now. Her words make me want to hunt him down and kill him, but I know nothing I say or do to him will ever change his views on the world. To him, everything is a commodity, a possession, his for the taking and his for the discarding. I’ve seen him treat his cast and crew like dirt and as much as I can’t believe he could do it to someone he supposedly loves, I know his wife fell into that same category. God knows what went on behind closed doors. “So prove him wrong,” I whisper, leaning down to kiss her lips. “Prove him wrong.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Sadie

I’m on the track to prove him wrong, but there in the back of my mind is that nagging feeling that the other shoe is going to drop. That one day I’m going to look around and Noel will have whisked it all away with one simple interview, one statement about me. He’s that good. But if I believe everything I’ve been told by Ava and everything that has the press buzzing, a big story is coming. A story that could ruin everything Noel has done, but in ruining him, it will ruin me too. I’m associated with all his drama. I’ve been with him for ten years, ten years of my life where I turned the other cheek, ten years where I could just as easily be to blame for all of this as him. The sun is just beginning to set over the lights of Hollywood below us, but the city won’t go dim, the stars will stay up all night and I’ll be here wondering how the hell I get myself out of this situation. We’ve been by the pool for the last several hours; ordering food and relaxing, and as much as I want to it what we’re doing is for fun, I’d be lying. I’m terrified to leave my house, afraid of exposing myself to the multitude of questions and attacks by the paparazzi that will happen if I do. I don’t know what to say to them, but I realize staying quiet makes me look like complacent, guilty even. I am guilty. Guilty of what? I don’t even know. I’m about to turn to Paul, ask him what he

thinks, but the vibrating of my phone interrupts our conversation. It startles me, because lately it seems like whenever my phone rings, it has something to do with Noel. I glance down and see my publicist’s name fill the screen, and what fills my body is dread. She can only be calling for one thing and it’s certainly not about publicity for the movie I’m currently working on. No one cares about that when there’s high-quality gossip brewing. I want to throw my phone in the pool and watch sink to the bottom, drown it along with my thoughts. “Just answer it,” Paul says, his face a wash of sympathy and concern. “It will be okay. You have to confront this if you want it to stop.” I nod my head, aware that his words hold more truth than I’m willing to it. I answer the call, my voice weak as I greet my publicist, my heart racing at the unknown. My thoughts begin to swirl before she even has a chance to speak and every worst-case scenario es through my head. She’s casual in her greeting, never one to overreact to a situation, and honestly, she’s never had to deal with anything that affects me directly. Most of the time she’s doing damage control for Noel’s behavior, responding with things like, “my client isn’t responsible for her husband’s behavior” or “my client wasn’t present at the time that occurred.” They’re all cheap cop-outs and I realize that now. They left me hidden from Noel’s problems when I should have been confronting them. Had I done it back then, I wouldn’t be here right now. “Hey Sadie. How’s L.A?” she asks as if she’s just calling to catch up. We don’t catch up. We aren’t friends even though she’s been my publicist for the last twelve years. Sometimes I wonder if we’ve kept our relationship at arm’s length because if we didn’t, she’d be privy to all the tiny details of my life with Noel. No one needs that burden other than me. It’s better this way. “L.A is good. Missed the sunshine,” I respond, the conversation light, but it doesn’t mean it will stay this way. “How are you?” “All good here too.” But her words are marred by a pregnant pause, a silence

that looms like the dark cloud that is Noel. “Celia, are you calling about Noel?” I ask, not letting anything linger between us longer than necessary. “I am,” she its, letting out a defeated sigh as if she’s been bombarded with calls she can no longer shoo away. “Sadie, he’s on the warpath and he’s taking you with him. Tomorrow a story will break about your affair—” “I’m not having an affair!” I shout, interrupting her, my words louder than necessary and Paul’s eyes widen just a little when he looks over at me. “But you are,” she asserts, but her words are soft, almost comforting, like she’s telling me it’s okay. “But I filed for divorce.” I can hear the defeat in my voice, the tears welling up in my eyes as I begin to wonder if I’m ever going to find a way out of this mess. “I know you did, but the fact is you are having an affair and nothing the press is releasing is a lie. You know how this all works. Your lawyers have no role in any of this because they’ve taken the truth and made it salacious.” “So what do I do?” I ask, understanding that releasing a statement of my own is an option, but I’m also aware this could backfire. It would open me up for all the scrutiny I’ve been trying to avoid all these years. “There are rumors about a reporter,” Celia starts and I nod my head even though she can’t see me. Everything seems to be coming back to The Guardian reporter and his huge story about Noel. His huge story that I’m sure won’t paint me in a favorable light either. “Yeah, I know. He’s reached out to me a few times.” “Talk to him,” Celia says, her words firm, as were the words of everyone who has come before her with this same information. “You’ve avoided this for too long.” She’s right. I have avoided this and the more I sit here and think about it, this isn’t about me any longer. It’s about the other people, the people Noel has hurt. The only way to detach myself from this situation is to attach myself to it.

“You can confirm everything in his article, you know that?” The question hangs at the end of her sentence, waiting for me to agree. We both know I can. There have been only a few sets I haven’t worked on with Noel in the last ten years. What came before me is a mystery, but I know former assistants and anyone looking to get back at Noel have already filled those gaps. “Yes, I know.” “Your words mean more than some jilted assistant, some crew member, an angry washed up actor, and not because they’re any less of a person than you or that their story isn’t truthful, but because you’re Sadie Washington. You lived this life, inside and out.” This article, this reporter will not go away and I know that. His presence will grow bigger and the more I avoid it the more people will push back. “Can you tell me about the affair article?” I ask, because the contents of this article could push me over the edge. I’m still precariously balancing on that fine line of retreating or exploding. “Sadie,” she says, a deep exhale falling from her lips with my name. “He just paints himself as the victim. He talks about how your marriage was his everything and he’s devastated over seeing you with another man.” I roll my eyes, and yep, I’m over that edge now. She doesn’t need to go on. He doesn’t get to be the victim. I end the call with Celia and let out a hard sigh, scrolling through my texts until I find the one with the reporter’s name and number that Ava sent me, even though I already had his details. “I’m doing it,” I tell Paul, my eyes focused on the horizon as the sun dips below, calling an end to not only the day but to this mess with Noel. “Yes!” Paul calls out, thrusting a fist into the air, making me laugh out loud. “That was a little intense. I’m about to ruin someone’s life.” “Someone who has ruined yours for the last ten years. He fucking deserves it, Sadie.”

“Yeah, I get that, Paul, but you also need to understand I don’t want to be that person either. I’m torn. You have to understand I feel like I’m doing the same thing by hanging Noel out to dry, too. How is helping this reporter any different than what Noel has done to me all these years? An eye for an eye?” Paul shakes his head, his arms crossed over his chest as turns to look at me from the lounge chairs we’ve been in for the last few hours. “It isn’t revenge, Sadie. You need to stop thinking about it like that. It’s redemption. Redemption for you, for the people Noel has abused, and really for anyone who thinks their voice isn’t being heard.” Working in this industry in the era of the Me Too movement has brought a lot of things to the surface and as I witnessed these brave women tell their stories, all I could think was that I was part of why it even happened. “What if I’m to blame for what happened?” I it out loud, the words finally leaving my head and entering the world. I can’t take them back now. “How the hell are you to blame for what he did?” Paul snaps, his words angry but not angry with me. “Because I stayed quiet for so long. Because I worried about myself and no one else. Because he cheated on me and I let it happen.” That last line comes out in a rush. I don’t know it to be a fact, but I’ve always felt it. There’s so much shame in all of it. Paul falls silent. I’m sure he’s processing what a fucked up mess this all is. He can’t possibly look at me the same way ever again. He saw me once as a person who commanded a movie set, who cared about the crew and wanted what was best, but now he knows I was part of something that never looked like this. I was part of the problem. “You’re done blaming yourself,” he says, his words firm. “I’m done letting you hide from this. He cheated on you because he knew you would stay quiet. He did all those things on set because he knew you and everyone else would stay quiet. Stop staying quiet, Sadie.”

Paul stands up and holds out a hand to me. Taking it, I stand in front of him, afraid of the tears I feel looming, afraid his words hold so much truth and afraid of what’s to come, but he’s right, I can’t stay silent any longer. “He broke you and he did it on purpose. Take your fucking life back, Sadie,” Paul demands, his hands resting on my shoulders. “Be what all these people need you to be, what you need to be for yourself.” He’s like a motivational speaker and as much my chest aches with tears, I want to laugh at him too. “Okay, I got it. You’re a bit too intense here.” I laugh, the tears spilling over but drying up quickly. “You’ve said a lot of intense things,” Paul jokes back, pulling me into his arms. “And Sadie, if he did cheat on you, it wasn’t your fault. And what you’re doing with me isn’t the same thing. He cheated to hurt you.” “What are we doing here?” “You’re healing,” Paul says, and his words make me smile. I pull back pushing up on my toes as I kiss him softly and slowly, making sure he knows I’m grateful for his existence in my life. “Thank you. I have no idea what I did to deserve someone like you, but I will forever spend my life making sure you know how grateful I am.” “You spent ten years with Noel. If that’s not enough of a reason I don’t know what is.”

It’s late by the time I work up the courage to call The Guardian reporter. It’s well after eleven in Los Angeles, but it’s early morning in London. Paul is asleep beside me and I slip from the bed and quietly plod down the stairs and into the office that is adjacent to the kitchen. I don’t want to wake him and in a house like this, sound travels. I flop down in the desk chair, looking out onto the glow of the city below, light

pollution at its best. It burns for miles, nothing to dull its shine. It’s like Noel, but he’s about to fade. I click the phone number Ava sent me and there’s no turning back now as the line trills once, then twice and he picks up on the third ring. “Roger Collins,” he says, his accent heavy and something about it makes me miss the quiet life of London. “Hi Roger. This is Sadie Washington.” My words don’t sound like my own and for a split second it feels like this is all a dream. The room is hazy, a darkness blanketing it and my words sound far away and quiet. “Sadie, it’s so good to hear from you.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Paul

The next day on set, Sadie seems a little different. Not in a bad way, more of a distracted and somehow both less worried and more worried about the things we talked about last night, kinda way. I understand why she’s so torn up. I mean it’s bad enough she’s trying to end a marriage to a guy who clearly doesn’t care about her anymore—if he ever did. But she has to live that break up in the public eye. Shit, that would be truly awful. And worse still, the narrative of that break up is being dictated by the man who once promised to love her till death do them part. I can’t imagine how that must feel, that betrayal. My heart breaks for Sadie, but at the same time, I’m consumed by anger toward Noel. I hate that he gets to use his money and his power and his connections to drive this story, to fuck with Sadie and to possibly screw with her and her career. She doesn’t deserve it and if he ever really loved her, he’d see that. But shit, maybe he never did, maybe he always viewed their marriage as something more like a business arrangement. One that only benefited him. It would explain the cheating thing Sadie confessed to me last night. It might explain why she never let him be with her like she has let me, despite the fact they were married. Maybe deep down, she never really trusted him? I don’t know, it’s a situation I am so unfamiliar with that I can’t possibly comprehend how it must feel. Regardless, I know it’s still affecting her, and it’s enough that I notice it, even if I can’t exactly put my finger on it.

“Hey Paul,” Andrew, our stunt coordinator, says, walking toward me. “Can I grab you for a sec?” I glance at Sadie but she’s deep in conversation with her two leads about the next scene they’re due to shoot. “Sure, what’s up?” He’s got a script in one hand and his clipboard in the other, and he glances at both before finally looking up at me. “I gotta step out for a week or so,” he says on an exhale. “Maybe more. Jen, she’s…she’s been put on bedrest.” “Shit, is everything okay?” I ask, knowing his wife is pregnant with their second child. He nods and shrugs at the same time. “Yeah it will be,” he says. “But I don’t know, something about the placenta and her needing to take it easy and well, I just…I…” “Andrew,” I say, cutting him off. “What do you need me to do?” He gives me a half smile. “Do you think you could run things here for a while?” he asks. “Help with getting everyone organized and shit?” I take a deep breath, shoving a hand through my hair as I take in his request. “You mean like…?” His smile widens. “Well shit, you can’t exactly be a stunt double with that banged up ankle, so what about stunt coordinator?” A chuckle falls from my mouth. “You think I could?” “Paul, please,” Andrew says, handing me his clipboard. “You’ve practically been doing it since you hobbled back on set,” he adds. “You’re a natural.” I stare back at him, at the man who’s a legend in my line of work not just because of some of the things he pulled off back when he was doing stunts. Since his semi-retirement and move into the role of stunt coordinator, he’s worked on an endless list of blockbuster movies. And he’s always managed to ensure the action scenes and stunts are coordinated and pulled together in a way

that looks absolutely effortless. They’d be big shoes I’d be stepping into. “You um, you clear it with the boss?” I ask, throwing a thumb over my shoulder to where I know Sadie is. Andrew grins now, his eyes flicking to Sadie before back to me. “Who do you think suggested the idea?” he asks. “Although to be fair, it was a suggestion I was planning to make anyway.” All the breath leaves my lungs in one long exhale. Not just at what Andrew’s asking me, but at the thought that Sadie brought it up, that she thinks I could do this for her, for her movie. Fuck, now I definitely don’t want to fuck it up. “Paul?” Andrew prompts? “Yep, yeah, okay,” I say, hand gripping the back of my neck. “I can do it. I will do it.” Andrew nods, a smile on his face as he says, “I know you can. And look, I can hang around today and take you through things and after that, I’m only ever a phone call away, okay?” “Thanks, Andrew, seriously,” I reply, knowing this is exactly what I needed. It’s not that I’ve felt useless coming to the set with Sadie each day, but I know I’m not exactly contributing much. I don’t even really need to be here, even if the insurance is still paying my salary. I come more because I wanna hang out with Sadie. That and I miss the action and excitement of a live movie set. But my presence here has always been kinda redundant and while I haven’t felt like I shouldn’t be here, I hate the idea of not being able to help. This will give me purpose, a reason for being here that will also help get Sadie’s movie made.

Later, Andrew and I are sitting in his trailer, going over his notes and plans when his phone rings. Glancing at the screen, he holds it up as he says, “Sorry, it’s Jen. I gotta take this.” “Do what you have to do,” I tell him with a wave. “And say hi to her from me.” Andrew nods as he answers his cell on his way out of the trailer. I turn back to his notes and plans, realizing again just how much more complicated this all is to what I initially thought it would be. Which is not to say that I don’t think I can do it, it’s just a hell of a lot more than me standing on a mark and running through a sequence of moves I’ve been trained to do when the director yells, “Action!” And more than that, with this being Sadie’s movie, it makes me even more nervous. I really don’t want to fuck this up for her. I know she has a lot riding on this, not just because it’s her first time directing solo. It’s her first time away from Noel, too. Her first time making a name for herself and not one that’s associated with him. Which makes it even more important, in so many ways. “Hey you,” comes her voice as she slips her arms over my shoulders from behind. I turn, see her smiling face and can’t resist pressing a kiss to her lips. “Hi.” “I see you took the job?” she adds, gesturing to the notes on the table in front of me. “I did,” I say, nodding. “You sure you’re okay with it?” Sadie’s smile widens as she kisses my cheek. “Of course I am. You’re going to be amazing at it too.” I stare back at her as I push my chair out a little and slip my arm around her, pulling her into my lap. She keeps her arms wrapped around my neck as she watches me, an easy smile on her face.

I return the smile, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, chuckling a little at the two pencils that are once again stuck in her hair, holding it back. She’s so fucking adorable. “You can do this,” she says, her words quiet, but sincere. “You know that, right?” I give her a wry smile, my brow cocked as I look back at her. “What?” she asks. Chuckling, I reply, “Nothing. It’s just cute you telling me that and being all positive and motivational and all.” “Ugh,” she scoffs, slapping my chest. “I can be positive!” “Really,” I say, leaning closer as I brush my nose against hers before gently kissing her. “Yes, really,” she says. “And I wanted to…” “Sadie,” I say, cutting her off as I kiss her again. “Yeah?” “Last night?” I continue, feeling her stiffen a little in my arms when I bring up our conversation and everything that happened last night, everything we talked about. I smooth a hand up her back, holding her close. “You asked me what we were doing here?” “Yeah?” she whispers and I can see the fear in her eyes. “What I said was true, about you healing,” I tell her, my eyes finding hers, wanting her to see the truth and sincerity in mine. “But what I should’ve added…” I pause, taking a breath before continuing, “is that we’re also starting something.” “We are?” I smile, kissing her once more, deeper this time as I gently pull her bottom lip

between my teeth before slipping my tongue against hers. She gasps, her arms tightening around my neck as she squirms in my lap. “We are,” I repeat. “Something that’s important to me,” I add. “That isn’t anything to do with cheating or an affair or however else the press or Noel wants to spin it, okay?” Sadie pulls back, arms still locked around my neck as she looks up at me. “They’ll make me, make you, look awful you know that, right?” I nod, knowing this is true, no matter how badly I might not want it to be. “I know, but I will be here for you, with you, every step of the way,” I tell her, meaning it. “This isn’t just a, a…a movie set fling, okay? At least it isn’t for me,” I tell her, suddenly worried that in her mind, when this is over, so are we. Sadie swallows hard, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. “It isn’t for me either,” she eventually whispers. “No?” “No,” she repeats, shaking her head. “For so long I’ve been living in the shadow of a marriage that wasn’t real, that no longer meant anything to me. I, I…” she pauses, brushing a hand across my cheek before continuing. “I wanted things to be different and I know I stayed for longer than I ever should have, but…” “You stayed until you were ready to leave,” I say, sliding my hand down her back to her hip. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” Sadie nods. “I’m not going back to him,” she says, her words firm. I smile, nodding my head because regardless of what’s being said about her in the press, I really can’t picture her ever going back to that relationship, to that man. “And, I…well I want you to know that you’re not like a rebound or movie set fling or whatever for me either.” I chuckle, unable to resist teasing her. “A rebound?” Sadie shrugs, a tiny blush on her cheeks as she looks at me. “I just came out of a

shitty ten year marriage, Paul,” she says. “Most people would assume I was just using you for some hot rebound sex. I mean look at you!” This time I burst out laughing, my head falling back a little. “Hot rebound sex, huh?” I repeat, loving that her blush deepens. “Sadie,” I whisper, cupping her jaw in my hand. “As much as I’m okay with you using me for sex, anytime,” I say, “I’m really glad it’s not of the rebound variety,” I tell her. “I don’t want to be your rebound guy. I want to be your guy.” A tiny smile tugs at her mouth and I watch her fight it, her teeth hanging onto that bottom lip of hers just a little tighter. “Really?” she whispers. “Really,” I tell her. “And I don’t care who you were married to or what hoops you have to jump through to get out of that marriage or what we have to endure from the press. I’m not going anywhere, Sadie. I’m right here, with you.” “Thank you,” she whispers as her lips crash against mine, silencing any more conversation.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Sadie

There’s so much going on my head is practically spinning, and at times I feel like I’m being pulled in a million different directions. Filming has ramped up and we’re now all in, so there’s no turning back now. The studio execs have been on set the last couple of shoots, and while their has been nothing but positive, I’m still worried about the repercussions that could come with having my name attached to Noel’s. It’s time I addressed this whole situation head on and today I’m meeting with my publicist to release a statement about my pending divorce and my relationship with Paul. Everything is out in the open, but it’s all been told by Noel or by the tabloids. We all know drama sells and a story about a woman stuck in an unhealthy marriage isn’t what the gossip-loving public is looking for. They’re looking for the story Noel is telling. The one where I’m a cheating whore and I’ve ruined Hollywood’s golden couple. I was his balance. I was the reason the public liked him. People believed I changed him, that the love of a good woman made Noel Robinson a better man. But behind closed doors, behind the screen of publicists and paying off tabloids, he was still the same disgusting manipulator. After I called Roger we talked for a while but never really delved deep into what I can do to help him. He basically just shared what he’s been hard at work on and we set up a date and time for him to come to L.A. so we can have an in-person conversation. This is something that haunts me. It follows me around and festers in the back of my mind; an anxiety-laced fear that wraps itself around me and rears its ugly head every time I start to feel comfortable again.

Noel will find out. It’s not a matter of if, it’s when, and things will fall apart. Everything I do, I do in secret now and a part of me even wants to keep everything from Paul. Not because I don’t trust him but because I don’t want to involve him anymore than he already is. But this is no way to live my life. The only way to end this is to see it through till the end even if it means I ruin my reputation, even if it means my career ends, even if it means I lose everything I’ve gained. But it may also give a voice to all those people who’ve been silenced by Noel. I’m sitting on set, calling out directions, but my voice is hollow and it doesn’t feel like my own. The words come out just as they always would and no one seems to notice the difference. The cast and crew are moving through each scene with such ease I almost forget I’m the director, that I’m the one calling the shots. Today after shooting finishes I have an interview with People magazine—an interview that will either make or break me. I set it up on my own, not sharing any of the details with Shannon or Paul or anyone for that matter, and I gave the magazine strict instructions to not make any of the details public. Magazines and tabloids love this kind of shit because they feel like they have something no one else does, and right now Noel is a hot topic. Landing his estranged wife is like hitting the lottery. I call cut on the last scene; the cast and crew all letting out a collective breath, including me. It’s been a long day of shooting, but I’ve never felt better about a movie I’ve written and directed. “Okay,” I call out. “We’ll pick back up tomorrow. Please check your call sheets for shooting times because things have changed a little. We have some nighttime shots we need to get done and a few people will be off-site with the voiceover coordinator.” They all nod and a few pull out their phones and start scrolling and adding items to their calendars. Most of them, while they have assistants, do also manage their own schedules. It’s one of the things I love about the cast I’m working with. While I have a few huge names in the lead roles, not one of them has made that known on set.

There are no egos, no hierarchy of actors and a part of me wonders if that’s something I brought to the set. I always hated the way Noel chose a favorite or placed the bigger names on pedestals. Just as I’m about to dismiss everyone for the day, one of the crew asks if I’m okay. I’m caught off guard, because while I have a great relationship with all of them, we don’t really delve too deeply. It’s usually the way the things are on movie sets. You make friends with people and the relationships tend not to stick after filming is done. There’s nothing wrong with this; it’s just the way the industry plays out. But to hear someone ask if I’m okay feels somewhat uncomfortable. “We all know what you’re going through with your soon to be ex,” the crewmember says and a few others nod their heads in agreement. Stories about Noel have been circulating for months now and it’s no surprise that people are intrigued. “I’m fine. Thank you for asking,” I reply, but my words come across cold and I regret it. Paul, who had been helping with some set-up for tomorrow, is now standing at my side. He looks over at me, a small smile on his face as if he’s encouraging me, letting me know it’s okay to share something with these people. These people who took a chance on a director who had only made a name for herself through her husband. They had no idea if what I was doing would be a success and they still don’t. But they’re still here. I take in a deep breath, wondering if I’m about to make the biggest mistake of my life. Sharing a secret on a movie set spreads like wildfire. Within an hour my words could be twisted into something that doesn’t even resemble the truth. Paul nudges me a little, but it still does nothing to urge me on. The eyes of the waiting cast and crew are all staring at me as I try to find the right words. “You know we all you and we’re not asking to be nosy or get gossip on you. We’re all honestly concerned about how you’re handling everything,” Sophia, a ing actress asks. “I know when I was going through my divorce the press had a field day.” She’s dramatic about it, but there’s also something

playful and soothing about her words, too. I throw caution to the wind, ing it was Noel who always controlled what went out to the press, it was Noel who controlled my words, and I’m done with that. Let them talk about me, let them gossip and say what they want, at least if I speak the truth maybe it will be heard. “I’m honestly not okay, but I will be. I have interviews set up and I’m hoping to tell my story. I was in an abusive relationship for almost all my adult life and while it feels great to be away from it, I’m still struggling to sort through what it all means.” I pause for a second, checking everyone’s faces, but all I get back in return is genuine sympathy. This is the first time I’ve felt this type of on a movie set. It feels like a family and something about it makes me realize that maybe I’ve been doing this wrong for all these years. Building a relationship with these people can only help me and keeping them at arm’s length is what runs the gossip mill.

We spend the next hour chatting, about half the cast and crew stayed, and we all sat around getting to know each other and eating any leftover catering from the day. We’re all the same and it’s apparent through our conversations. Noel had always held this standard that he was above every single person on the set, but what I’ve found is we all deal with the same fears, the same realities. We’re all worried about the success of this movie and what will come after. If we’ll find another job after this, if our families will have enough money to get by until we do. But we also laugh and joke about all the things only people in the industry understand and how seeing yourself and hearing your voice can be the most cringe-worthy thing ever. It’s probably the most relaxed day I’ve ever had since I started working in this industry. I look down at the time on my phone and I realize it’s far later than I thought. I have the crew from People magazine setting up at my house, finally cluing Shannon in so I could head over there, but that leaves very little time for me to get home. I bid good night to everyone and round up Paul from where he’s sitting with a

few different camera crew. “Ready?” I ask, smiling at him. “Yep,” he replies, taking my hand as he stands up from the table. There’s something so simplistic about his gesture, about him taking my hand, but in it I feel a sense of relief. What we’re doing is out in the open. We’ve kept our relationship from no one. It’s never been a secret like the press have tried to spin it. There’s a comfort in knowing everyone knows and there’s nothing behind its meaning. “What’s the rush?” Paul asks when we’re back in the car and out of the parking garage of the set. “I have an interview with People magazine. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I wasn’t trying to keep it from you. I was just…” “Trying to keep it from me,” he says, a playful tone to his voice. I guess I was keeping it from him. It’s hard to suddenly start sharing things about my life when for all these years I’ve been told I can’t make my own decisions and when I did, I was shamed for them. “Yeah, I guess I was,” I sheepishly it. “But it stops now. It’s okay for you not to agree with my choices. It’s okay if we live lives that aren’t all consuming and only about each other.” “I’m glad you’re realizing this. I don’t want to control you, Sadie. I want to you and find happiness in what you find happiness in. I want us to always be there for each other. Your success is my success. My success is yours.” “Why are you like this?” I ask, reaching over and taking his hand in mine, I bring it to my lips for a quick kiss. “Because someone needs to show you what a real relationship is, Sadie.” His words make me blush and smile at the same time. A warmth moving from my chest up to my cheeks, but I love every second of it.

“Since we’re doing this whole full disclosure thing here,” I say, stumbling over my words a little, nervous about what he’ll think. “I decided to meet with Roger, that reporter from The Guardian.” “Seriously?” Paul asks, his head whipping around to look at me. “Yes, why? Is it a bad idea? You said I should…” He cuts me off, a small chuckle leaving his lips. “It’s your decision, you know that and what I say shouldn’t matter, but no I don’t think it is a bad idea. I wish you’d done it months ago. It would’ve shut that fucker Noel up already, I’m sure.” Now it’s me laughing at his hatred for Noel. He barely knows him, but Paul will side with me regardless and I love it. “I wasn’t ready to face this months ago. I’m only ready now because of you.” “You didn’t need me, Sadie. You just needed to believe in yourself.” It’s hard not to laugh as Paul goes all motivational speaker on me, even if what he’s saying is true. I want to tell him I love him, that I have never loved anyone like I love him, but I silence the words that are screaming inside my head. My tone turns serious. “I did need you and I still do. I always will.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Paul

I’m hanging out in the kitchen while Sadie does her interview. She’d asked if I wanted to her and while I appreciated the offer, it was not my kinda thing. I’m happy to let her tell the reporter whatever she wants to tell them. About Noel, , about whatever. They’re sitting in the living room, which is close enough I can hear the conversation, even though I’m not really listening because I’m totally not worried. I probably could go upstairs, work out or something, but I don’t because maybe some part of me is also curious. “So, it’s true you and Noel are separating?” the interviewer asks, her voice light as though she’s asking Sadie about something as mundane as the weather, rather than her idiotic ex-husband. “We have separated,” Sadie says, correcting her. “It happened a while ago actually, and we are now in the process of divorcing.” “Oh,” the reporter says, clearly surprised. I can almost sense the awkwardness from here as though this isn’t the answer she expected. “So,” she continues, her tone different now. “What do you say to Noel’s comments that he’s trying to save your marriage and you’re the one who’s making trouble?” I can hear the exhale Sadie lets out and can sense the frustration she must be feeling at the assumption that, of course, this is somehow all her fault. It pisses me off that the reporter automatically goes there, especially given she’s a woman herself. What happened to solidarity between women or whatever? It also goes to show how fucking jaded this place and this industry is. That all the bright lights and shiny movie stars and expensive movies do nothing to mask

the seedy shit beneath it. And that somehow, a dick like Noel Robinson, a man who routinely abuses his staff and stars, a man who regularly cheated on his own wife by all s, is somehow the good guy in all of this. “I would counter by saying that Noel knows very well that we are divorcing and that he in fact agreed to sign the divorce papers. He’s only changing his mind now because of the optics.” “Optics?” the reporter asks at the same time as I fist pump the air in the kitchen. Fuck yeah. “Well, Noel’s primary concern has always been about making sure Noel Robinson looks good.” I feel myself grinning at Sadie’s words, at the way she isn’t giving an inch with this reporter who is clearly working her own agenda with this interview. I’m sure she walked in here tonight thinking she was about to get the scoop of the year. Finally break the story on what was really going on between Hollywood’s power couple. And maybe more importantly, finally be the person to get one half of that couple to talk to the press. Sadie has kept quiet about all of this up until now and from everything she’s told me, I know she’s kept quiet about a lot of things over the years. Not always because she’s wanted to, but because she had to. I can’t imagine the secrets and shit she carries around with her. At the weight all of this creates and if nothing else, all I hope is this whole thing with this reporter, with the guy from The Guardian, can lift that weight and unburden her so she can finally live her own life. “I guess most people are guilty of that to a certain extent,” the reporter adds, almost as an afterthought, but in a way that’s totally meant to undermine Sadie and make her feel like shit. Bitch. “Sure,” Sadie says, still not biting. “But when it’s done at the expense of others, it becomes something else entirely.” “And you think that’s what Noel does?” the reporter asks.

“Like I said,” Sadie continues, her words firm. “Noel has always been about making sure Noel looks good. But that’s not what this interview is about,” she adds, clearly having had enough of talking about Noel. “I set this up to give my side of the story and that is that Noel and I are separated, and we are getting divorced.” “Alright,” the reporter says, her voice lighter again, even though I sense a change in tactic now she realizes she isn’t getting anywhere forcing the issue of Noel. “And I’m guessing your new mystery man has a role in all of this?” My skin immediately bristles at her question, my hands curling into fists on the kitchen counter, my body frozen as I wait to hear Sadie’s response. “There is no mystery man,” she says, her words calm, but firm. “His name is Paul Walker and we’ve never made any secret of the fact we’re seeing each other.” My body sags in relief. Even though I never expected Sadie would hide what we have, I also know her fear of the media, the way they twist her words and make up shit to get the story they want. “He’s a stuntman on your movie, right?” “He is.” “And he was injured on set?” Sadie clears her throat. “Unfortunately, yes,” she says, an edge to her voice now. “It’s something I regret and feel bad about to this day. Luckily it wasn’t serious, but no director wants to see any member of their cast or crew injured.” “Of course,” the reporter says, a false sympathy to her tone. “And given he’s standing out there in the kitchen, am I correct in thinking he’s also living here?” Sadie takes a deep breath before continuing. “Look, I appreciate your curiosity about all of this and while it’s no secret that Paul and I are together, this is still my personal life we’re talking about here. It’s sacred and important to me, and not something I want to share all the details of with the rest of the world. I’m sure you can understand that.”

Again I’m fist pumping the air as the reporter acquiesces to Sadie’s request and moves on to discuss Sadie’s movie and how that’s all going. I tune out now, knowing the details already as I move over to the fridge to try and find something for dinner.

“Hey.” I turn and find Sadie standing in the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed over her chest as she leans against the frame. “Hi,” I reply, smiling as I move closer, taking a seat at the island stool. “You’re done?” She nods. “Yep.” “Everyone’s gone?” “Yep,” she repeats. “And?” I ask, arms out in question. She pushes off the wall and walks closer, stopping when she’s standing in front of me. I reach out and hook a finger through her belt loop, pulling her closer so she’s standing between my legs. She smiles as she slips her arms around my neck. “What? You weren’t listening in?” I chuckle, shrugging a little as I say, “Well, yeah, maybe.” “And,” she says, repeating my question. “And,” I say, sliding my arms around her waist and pulling her closer. Brushing my lips across hers, I whisper, “I’m proud of you.” “Really?” “Really,” I say, our lips still touching. “You were strong and confident and stood firm on everything you said and wanted to say.” “She could still twist my words,” Sadie says, pulling back a little. “Make it look

like I said things differently.” “I know,” I whisper, my thumb brushing across her cheek, our gazes locked, as I take in the fear in her eyes. “But we’ll cross that bridge if and when it happens,” I tell her. “What you did today, was good and you did it on your , Sadie. Be proud of that.” I watch as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes never leaving mine as she stares back at me. My thumb moves down from her cheek, gently tugging at her lip before I lean in and kiss her again, deeper this time. “Paul,” she groans into my mouth. I smile against hers. “Yes?” Sadie lightly runs her tongue across my bottom lip, smiling against my mouth as she murmurs, “How are you so damn perfect?” I let out a low chuckle. “Maybe just perfect for you.” Sadie’s hands cup my cheeks as she pulls back a little. “You are perfect for me,” she whispers, her words barely audible. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.” “Maybe it’s me who got lucky?” I ask, grinning. Her arms slip around my neck again as she pushes against me. “I think maybe you might get lucky later tonight.” I laugh, my head falling back a little as my hands move down to her ass, lifting her now so she’s sitting on my lap, straddling me. “Well, shit, now that’s quite an offer.” Sadie smiles as she leans in, her mouth against my ear. “Not just an offer.” I grin against her mouth. “Why wait for later tonight?” I murmur, my fingers already working on her jeans. She lets out a low laugh that’s sexy as hell before leaning in to press her lips against my neck. A groan falls from my mouth as she starts to lick and suck at my skin, while at the same time working herself against my now very hard dick.

“Sadie,” I murmur. “What?” she asks as she kisses a path up to my ear. “Off. I need to take these off,” I say, frustrated as I unsuccessfully try to push her jeans down her hips. Sadie pulls back, a sexy smile on her face as she looks up at me. “So frustrated,” she teases. “Ugh, frustrated, turned on, really needing to get in your pants.” She laughs now as she slides off my lap. “Stay,” she orders, pointing right at me. I grin, loving the confidence she exudes as she stands in front of me and pulls off her jeans. “Better?” she asks, standing in her panties. “Almost,” I say, reaching for her again and pulling her back onto my lap. My hands slide under her t-shirt, pulling it up and over her head. Her hands are on my jeans now, undoing the buttons, before her hand slips inside and circles my dick. “Fuck,” I let out on a low groan. “God, woman.” Sadie laughs against my neck as her hand starts to move. Needing to feel her skin against mine, I pull my t-shirt off, throwing it across the room before pulling her against me, the lace of her bra now the only thing separating us. Sadie sucks on my neck, her hand inside my boxers, her breasts pressed against my chest and all of it feels so fucking good. I slide a finger into her panties, brushing it against her. “God, you’re so wet.” “Paul,” Sadie moans, grinding against me as her mouth finds mine and she kisses me, hard and hungry, moaning my name again. I slide a finger inside her now, loving the low moan she lets out and the way her head falls back. I take in the sight of this woman, straddling me in her underwear, my finger inside her as she grinds against me and still I want more. “Come here,” I whisper as my other hand slides up her back and unsnaps her bra. It falls to the floor and she opens her eyes, her blue eyes staring back at me.

I slide my finger out of her, smiling as she whimpers in protest, as I pull her panties to the side, lifting her slightly before lowering her onto my dick. “Oh god,” she groans, the words low and sexy. “Oh god, yes.” Sadie’s arms lock around my neck as I wrap mine around her waist, holding her tight as she starts to ride me, right here in the middle of her kitchen. The house is quiet now, nothing but the sounds of us filling the empty space. I keep my eyes open the whole time, watching her, unable to look away as she moves against me, the hot warmth of her driving me fucking crazy with every move. When she eventually opens her eyes again and finds me watching her, she smiles, leaning closer and pressing her lips against mine. “You feel so fucking good,” I murmur against her mouth. Her lips curve into a smile. “So do you,” she whispers before kissing me deeply. It doesn’t take either of us long, our bodies grinding against each other, never stopping our kisses as Sadie’s hips start to move a little faster and she takes me deeper and deeper. Her kisses becoming more and more desperate the closer she gets. Eventually it’s all too much and I watch as her head falls back and she calls out my name, hers falling from my lips as I push inside her one last time and come hard. She collapses against me, her face buried in my neck, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. I wrap my arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer as I press light kisses to her shoulder, loving the taste of her skin and the smell of me on her. When she’s finally caught her breath, she pulls back, an easy smile on her face as she cups a hand on my jaw. “Hey,” I say, smiling up at her. Her grin widens. “Hi,” she whispers, thumb brushing against my stumble as she

leans in and presses a light kiss against my lips. “That was so good.” “Really fucking good,” I tell her, knowing how true my words are. This connection I have with her, it’s so different to anything I’ve ever felt before, to anything I ever had with Helena. It feels strange to think I’ve only known Sadie for a few months but already feel this attached to her. And while we’ve not talked a whole lot about what happens after filming stops, never really deciding on what either of us is doing, I already know that I don’t want to go make this other movie in London if it means I’m going to have to spend months apart from her. But if I don’t go and work as a stuntman, what the hell am I going to do? I can’t stay here and mooch off Sadie my whole life. “You okay?” she asks, still smiling as she looks at me. “I’m very, very okay,” I tell her, knowing it’s the truth even if thoughts about our future still whirl inside my head. Thoughts about what else I can do to make this relationship work, what I can change or give up so that we can be together without constantly having to be apart. I already know how hard it is with one half of a relationship working in the movie industry, but two? God, how do we make this work. “You want me to make some dinner?” I ask, knowing now is not the time to bring this shit up. Sadie’s smile widens as she slowly shakes her head. “No?” “No,” she repeats, leaning closer so her mouth is against my ear. “I want you to…” My eyes close as she tells me exactly what she wants me to do, my heart flipping in my chest at her words. Yeah, I really have to find a way to make this work because fuck me if I haven’t fallen totally head over heels in love with her.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Sadie

It’s been a rough road since my interview with People despite my hope it would put an end to some of this chaos. The tabloids have run with the story and of course put their own personal spin on it. Some have continued to call me a cheater, while others have taken up residence on my side, but regardless, the media fallout is still continuing. I still worry that Clapboard Films will see me as a liability and call the film done even though we are several months into shooting. I worry Noel’s lawyers will find anything they can to bring me down even if it is lies. I worry all of this will be too much for Paul and he’ll disappear. But today, I worry about my conversation with Roger Collins. I’m pacing the floor waiting for his arrival, the clock ticks slowly and with each ing second the anxiety that pools in my stomach turns into a knot that pulls tighter and tighter. This man has information that could ruin Noel, but I can’t let my own conscience get in the way of helping end a cycle of abuse. I was part of it in one way or another and now it’s time for me to redeem myself. It’s time for me to stand up for all those people I turned a blind eye to all those years. Paul’s working late on set, taking on the role of stunt coordinator has occupied a lot of his time lately and after that he said he plans to get some drinks with the guys. I didn’t ask him to do any of this, but I think he knows meeting with Roger will be a tough go and he’s giving me space. The bell to the gate chimes out and with a shaky hand, I reach out and press the button allowing Roger access to the house. This is it.

He’s a tall man, but not in that looming, intimidating way, but more like Clark Kent, which is a funny way to describe him given his job. He has dark hair and dark eyes that are accented by a pair of dark rimmed glasses, and he’s dressed casually making me relax just a little. He greets me with a nod of his head, a hand extended as he says, “Good evening, Sadie. It’s so nice to finally get a chance to talk with you. I’m Roger.” His accent is comforting and his hand is warm when I take it mine. Everything about this meeting is casual, but my body still screams with nervous energy. This isn’t the first time we’ve met, but being accosted in a parking lot wasn’t exactly the best start. “Come in,” I tell him, leading him out to the patio. The night air is warm and there’s something about being outside in the open that makes what’s about to happen seem less daunting. “How are you?” I ask, keeping things light. “How was your flight?” “Flight was long,” he replies, but shares a smile with me in return. “But overall it was fine.” He follows my lead and sits down at a chair across from me, a small table dividing us as he sets his things down. With him he carries a messenger bag and a few stacks of papers. He pulls his phone from his pocket and places it next to the papers. There’s a silence that es between us as he folds his hands in front of him. I suck in a hard breath. My chest expands, rising with the intake of air and I let it out slowly, it ing through my lips with a small whooshing sound. “Don’t be nervous,” he says in response and I laugh a little. “I’m not here to make things worse for you.” “But without knowing it you could be,” I reply back, but my intent is not to sound malicious. “I worry…” I add, trailing off. “Don’t worry, Sadie, seriously. I’m just here to get some corroboration from you

and to share some things from my article. I would like you to hear them from me before it hits the press.” “Thanks. I do appreciate that.” “I’m not here to ruin your life. I understand what you’ve been through and I also think there are things you don’t know. To blindside you would be irresponsible of me,” he says, a sound of sincerity in his voice that is rarely present in reporters. “That’s something new,” I joke, trying to lighten the heavy air that floats between us. “Not all journalists are slimeballs.” He laughs a little causing me to smile and the knot in my stomach uncurls just a little. “I’m learning that.” He flips through a few papers and then grabs a file from his bag, opening it, he slides it across the table to me. The file is cluttered with handwritten notes and a small picture is stapled to the corner of the file. I recognize the woman in the picture immediately. It’s Elizabeth Hutton. “I figured we could start with the story you know well. The story that started it all,” Roger says, his eyebrows rising slightly. I nod my head but swallow back the bile that rises up in my throat. If this is already a struggle, I can only imagine what the rest of this is going to be like. I’m aware Elizabeth Hutton isn’t the story that started it all; she’s just the one who blew the whistle on Noel. “I’m going to ask you some questions about that day on set and then I’ll let you read the rough draft of what will be included in my article. Now mind you, her portion of the article isn’t very long because unfortunately I have others I need to include. At this point, it feels like I might need to write a book.” He smiles at me, but it’s in a way that radiates sympathy and all I can do is nod my head in response.

We go through Elizabeth’s story and everything is pretty cut and dry. There’s not a word said that I wouldn’t have said myself, and I every last detail with Roger. I would’ve thought this would’ve been harder, not harder to hear the details of Elizabeth’s story, but harder to break my loyalty to Noel. I lived for so long with his power over me. I often wondered if I’d struggle to regain my own voice, my own independence, but in this moment none of it matters. I find myself doing exactly what I’d hoped I would’ve done years ago. Her story is easy to get through, but the next few are a little harder. Basically they all say the same thing: volatile behavior, verbal abuse, feeling unsafe; all the things I lived for the better part of a decade. While I wasn’t always on set, I was able to most of the events stated because I had either been told directly by Noel or could piece together enough to make what was said accurate. The next file Roger slips to me is closed, his hand resting on top almost as if he’s stopping me from opening it. “This one is an interesting one,” he starts, his face imive and I feel my heartbeat kick up a few notches. “I did these in a certain order because I know this is going to be difficult for you. Starting with the easiest ones seemed like a good idea when I started, but now I feel like I’m hitting you too much. We can stop at any time.” His words come out in a rush and I’m starting to wonder who is more nervous here. “I understand. I knew what I was getting myself into when I invited you into my home to share your story.” Even as the words are coming out of my mouth, they don’t fully hold the truth. I don’t understand and I’m terrified as hell. He removes his hand from the file and I flip it open. It looks like all the others, but this time the small picture looking back at me is Ian Hudson, the lead on my current film. I feel my mouth fall open and a gasp slips out. I want to close the file because something about it feels intrusive. Up until now I haven’t had a connection with any of these people beyond once working with them. That’s the nature of this industry. Most of the time you work with someone and never see or hear from them again. It’s been months and even years since I’ve had with the

women in those files. But Ian—I have to face him tomorrow on set. “He’s the only guy I have who came forward to share his story,” Roger says, cutting through the silence that has taken over. My head is swirling as I try to process what this all means. “This was a long time ago,” Roger starts, but his words sound muffled to me. How can this man be on my set every day and not hate me, not think I’m a horrible person for marrying Noel? “He was assaulted by Noel on set?” I ask, my question coming out with an air of confusion as I read the notes. “Many years ago and he reported it. There are police reports and legal documents…” Roger’s words slow as he watches me flip through the file. “But Noel killed the story,” I mutter, my words practically caught in my throat. I know exactly how this played out. Ian was young and probably just getting by with bit parts in movies. Taking on Noel would’ve ended his career, and I’m shocked by the measures he did go to because that alone could’ve ruined him. “He was given a rather large settlement and both men agreed to never work together again. It ended there, but I know after interviewing Ian, it never ended there for him. He was grateful to be able to voice what happened all those years ago.” “Were you able to get more men to come forward but not share their stories?” I ask, wondering why Ian is the only one. “I wasn’t. Although I think we both know there are more. In this industry no one wants to be perceived as weak and I think that’s what most men think will happen. I also can’t help but wonder if maybe they are bound by NDAs. I’m pretty sure Ian was Noel’s first assault case and his lawyers didn’t know how to handle it.” “This was before we were even together,” I tell Roger, knowing I can’t the details of his story because I knew nothing about it.

“I know that. I just thought it might be something you’d want to know about before the article goes live.” Thanks,” I say, wondering if I wasn’t better off in the dark. I now feel like I need to address this with Ian and I have no idea how. “But Sadie,” Roger says, his words coming out soft and quiet, “there’s more and even this is hard for me.” I swallow hard that acidic feeling in my throat now returning as I begin to let my brain take me to all those thoughts I’ve had, all those thoughts I pushed away. He doesn’t hand me a file this time, but shares everything on his own, the oversized stack of files resting in front of him. “There are many women who have come forward to share their stories with me about being forced into unnecessary nude scenes on set.” Roger’s words hit me like a blow to the stomach. But what he says next is what knocks me on my ass. “He’s had several affairs, Sadie. And while the women don’t use the word rape, all of them say the same thing. They couldn’t say no.” I can’t speak, and Roger’s words play out in my head over and over. They couldn’t say no. “Excuse me,” I manage to squeak out as I push back from the table and race into the house. Slamming the door behind me, I find a few seconds of solace in the bathroom before I retch over the toilet emptying my stomach. I slide onto the floor, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as I lean against the wall and cry. I’m sure telling me was hard for him and he isn’t doing this to hurt me, but rather protect me from what’s to come. There’s going to be a ton of backlash and I’m going to be at the center. I hate myself right now. How can I even possibly think of ever leaving the house again? I don’t deserve to be able to live my life when these women have been subjected to far worse than I ever was.

And I was a part of it. I knew what Noel was doing, but I just didn’t want to believe it. I turned a blind eye and allowed him to treat people with complete and total disrespect because of who he was. As much as I want to, I can’t hide from this. I pick myself up off the floor, I rinse my mouth and take a deep breath before I head back out to see Roger. I’m still crying, the tears silently falling as I don’t know whether I’m crying for these women or for myself and the guilt I feel or both. “I’m sorry,” I say, apologizing for what I’m not sure, but I feel like I’m going to be doing a lot of it. “I expected this would happen. I’m going to say it again, no one blames you for what happened.” “I blame myself.” We continue on, Roger sharing each of their stories with me and some I’m able to corroborate and others I can’t, but I do what I can to help. And when we end our conversation, I ask him something I know he may not be able to give me, but I ask for all their information. I want to reach out to each one of Noel’s victims and tell them I them.

Chapter Thirty

Paul

It’s late by the time I get back to Sadie’s house, which is silent and almost in darkness. I thought I’d get back before the reporter guy left, but everything took longer than I’d expected. “Sadie?” I call out, as I walk into the kitchen. “Out here.” I dump my bag on a stool and wander outside to find Sadie lying in one of the lounge chairs, a beer in her hand as she stares out into the night. “Hey,” I say, stopping beside her. “Hi,” she replies, her voice flat as she continues to stare straight ahead. I watch her for a few seconds before moving over to the small bar fridge. I grab us both a beer and then walk over to where she sits, shifting in behind her so she’s leaning back against me. She says nothing, just moves forward a little to give me some room as she takes the fresh beer from my hand. When she rests back against me, I wrap an arm around her shoulder and press a kiss to the top of her head. We sit in silence for a few minutes, neither of us saying anything as I try and give her some space to tell me what happened with the reporter in her own time. “So, it was worse than what I thought,” she eventually says. My arm tightens a little as I kiss her again. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

Sadie takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly before taking a sip of beer. She shrugs, as though she isn’t sure what she wants. “You know there’s no judgement here,” I tell her, my mouth at her ear. “Nothing you say is going to change that, I promise.” Sadie shrugs again as she murmurs, “I wouldn’t be so sure.” This time it’s me exhaling as I shift a little so I can look at her. “Sadie,” I whisper, waiting until she turns to face me. “Nothing Noel did is your fault.” “It’s not just what he did though, is it,” she says, a harshness to her tone. “I did things too, or more specifically, I did nothing and that’s practically the same thing.” “No,” I say. “It’s not. Noel is controlling and abusive and that behavior extended beyond the people he worked with,” I add. “It extended to you too, Sadie and…” I pause, my eyes meeting hers because I want her to believe me when I tell her this. “And you cannot blame yourself for something you had no control over.” “Can’t I?” Her words are a whisper, barely audible as she stares back at me, her eyes filled with tears. “No,” I say, shaking my head. “And being controlled by him, like you were,” I continue, “doesn’t make you weak either, because I know that’s also what you’re thinking. Men like Noel know exactly how to make the situation work for them. They know how to coerce, and they know how to target, and you shouldn’t ever blame yourself for being caught up in his shit. The man was supposed to love you for fuck’s sake and look at what he’s done to you.” The tears stream silently down her cheeks now and I reach out and brush them away with my thumb, my heart breaking for how much this is hurting her. “He assaulted people,” she whispers, her tears still falling. “Men and women. Silenced them with his money and his lawyers.” I nod, but say nothing, waiting to see if she’ll continue. “He forced people to do things they didn’t want to do,” she adds. “Nude scenes.”

I nod again, because this is stuff I’ve heard of, seen even, on one of the movies of his that I worked on. The stupid part about it was I didn’t even need to be on set that day because it was an interior scene they were shooting and there was no need for stunts. But a part of me wonders now if this was yet another power play by Noel; not shutting down the set when they were filming scenes for which it would normally be closed. By allowing anyone and everyone to witness an actor at their most vulnerable, was yet another way he exerted his power and control over a situation. The actress in question had been mortified. Even though she was experienced, she knew it was wrong. But every time she questioned Noel about it, he lost his shit, screaming at her to just do her fucking job and get on with it. Undermining her in front of the whole cast and crew. When she’d eventually gotten through the scene, he’d then made matters worse by smacking a smug smile on his face and fawning all over her like it was the greatest piece of acting she’d ever done. I always thought her managing not to throw up or punch him in the face was the most impressive part. “He cheated,” she whispers, the words catching in her throat as a sob escapes. I put my beer on the side table, before wrapping her in my arms and pulling her against me. “But it wasn’t just that,” she says, talking through her tears. “He, he…fuck.” “You don’t have to explain it,” I tell her, my lips against her temple. “I do,” she says, nodding as she forces herself to take a deep breath. “What he did, it’s beyond anything I ever knew,” she says, her words coming in a rush now. “He used people, he manipulated them and he…” Another sob falls from her throat, breaking my heart and wishing to fuck I could make all of this go away for her. “He used sex for control…” she whispers, my body automatically tensing as I

read between the lines and finally understand what she’s trying to tell me. Rape. “They’re not saying it was rape,” she says as though reading my mind. “But they all say it wasn’t something they could say no to.” “Then it’s rape,” I say. “It’s fucking awful,” she cries, burying her face against my chest. I hold her tightly, neither of us saying anymore. Inside, my brain is running through all the possibilities for what this might mean. For Sadie, for her movie, for all the women caught up in this shit fight. At the same time, I can’t help but think back to all the movies of his I worked on. To the things I saw, the things I heard about and all the times that me and others stayed silent. Silent because we were afraid, silent because we figured it wasn’t our fight. None of that excuses it though, because all our silence did was enable his behavior to continue. And all of this is exactly why Sadie feels at fault. Because while I might have seen only segments of this, she saw almost everything, even if she was also the one person he controlled the most. Fuck, what a mess this is. Eventually Sadie’s tears stop, and I feel her take another deep breath as she lifts her head from my chest. Looking down at her, I watch as she offers me a tiny smile as she swipes at her eyes, brushing away the last of her tears. “You okay?” I ask, knowing it’s the dumbest question I can possibly ask at this time. She shrugs. “No.” I brush my fingers across her cheek, tucking strands of hair behind her ear. “It’s okay not to be, you know?” I tell her, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her

lips. “And it’s okay to ask for help too.” Sadie nods, although I’m not sure if it’s in agreement or acknowledgement. “The story will be out in a few weeks,” she says. “Although he’s also talking about writing a book. He has that much material.” I nod. “Tell me what you need to do, what you need me to do to help?” She stares up at me, sadness in her eyes as she whispers, “Please don’t go anywhere.” “Sadie,” I murmur. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” “I need you.” Her words break my heart and I pull her to me again, pressing my lips to hers. “I’m here,” I tell her. “I’m here for you.”

We’ve been lying on the lounge chair together for an hour or so now. Sadie is no longer crying, but neither of us have spoken since she filled me in on what the reporter told her. I can’t even begin to imagine what she’s thinking or going through right now. It must be hell for her considering I currently want to kill the fucker she was once married too. “Oh my god, Paul,” she suddenly says, sitting up a little straighter. “Your boot!” She turns to me, a look of surprise on her face as she points at my now uncast ankle. Chuckling, I pull her back toward me. “Yeah, it’s gone.” “Seriously, when did this happen?” “Late this afternoon, after work,” I tell her. Sadie sits up again, turning so she’s facing me. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks. I shrug, smiling at her. “Wasn’t one hundred percent sure it was going to happen,

but apparently the bone looks good, so yeah, it’s gone.” “Paul, I’m so happy for you.” I chuckle, pulling her closer again. “Yeah, I’m glad it’s off. Damn thing was so annoying.” “You should’ve told me,” she says, her hand on my chest. “I could have, you know, come with you.” “I know,” I say, nodding. “But I also know you had other stuff going on. Stuff that was important.” Sadie nods. “So, what’s the plan now? Back to normal?” “Well,” I say, pushing a hand through my hair. “No stunt work for a while still,” I tell her. “I need to do some rehab on the ankle for a few weeks, but basically, as long as there’s no pain, yep all back to normal.” “Wow.” I grin, as I slip my legs over the side of the chair. “Yep, which also means,” I add, tightening my arms around her as I stand, picking her up with me. “I can finally do all the things I’ve only dreamed about doing with you.” “Paul, shit,” she says, gripping my arm. “Be careful.” Chuckling, I hoist her in my arms as I turn and walk us inside. “I’m good,” I say as I kiss her. “Or I will be as soon as I get you upstairs.”

Later, we’re lying in bed, Sadie’s head resting on my chest as I run my fingers up and down her spine. Her body is relaxed, her breathing slow and for the first time since I got back tonight, she seems at peace. “How are you feeling?” she asks, her words breaking the silence. Grinning, I slide my hand down to her ass. “Oh, pretty fucking good right now.” Sadie laughs as she lifts her head, propping herself up on my chest. “No pain in

the ankle?” “Nope.” “Didn’t hurt, you know, during…” Laughing, I pull her closer for a kiss. “Nope, not at all.” “Well that’s good,” she whispers, her mouth against mine. “How are you feeling?” I ask, knowing what she’s going through far outweighs any issues I may have with my ankle. She shrugs. “I don’t know,” she its. “I’m not sure I’m ever going to feel okay about all this, but I do feel better knowing the truth will come out.” “I think it’s pretty normal for you to feel this way,” I tell her, curling a strand of her hair around my fingers. Sadie nods. “I asked Roger for a list of everyone who’s come forward about this,” she whispers, dropping her eyes as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. I tilt her face back to mine. “Why?” She takes a deep breath, watching my face as she says, “I feel like I should reach out to them,” she its. “Tell them I them, even though I’m not sure…” “Not sure of what?” I ask. “That they’ll believe you or want to hear from you?” Sadie nods, that sadness back in her eyes again. “You think they’re going to blame you somehow?” She nods again. “Did this Roger guy say they did?” She shakes her head this time, but still doesn’t say anything.

“Sadie,” I say cupping her face in my hands. “I can’t even begin to imagine what any of this is like for you,” I start. “But I know that if anyone is going to know what these other women have gone through, it’s you. And they will know this too, just like they know what Noel’s like and how awful it must have been for you to live with that.” I pause, leaning up to kiss her. “No one will blame you for any of this.” She nods, her lips still pressed against mine. “It’s just hard to believe sometimes.” “I do,” I tell her. “Believe it.” She smiles a little. “You might be a little biased though.” I chuckle. “Yeah maybe,” I it, kissing her again. “But I know I’m not the only one. Look at Ian, even he itted he hates Noel and everything he does.” “He was one of the ones assaulted by him,” she says, pulling back. “Back when he was just starting out.” “And yet he still signed on for your movie,” I say. Sadie nods, but doesn’t say anything. “You know,” I tell her, letting go of her face as I tuck one hand behind my head and slide the other around her. “You mentioned how Roger was thinking of writing a book?” “Yeah?” “Well,” I start, swallowing as I try to get the thought that’s just popped into my head in order. “Why don’t you give him a bigger audience, a different way to tell his story?” “What do you mean?” I smile. “You’re a movie director, Sadie, a director and a writer in an industry that is constantly hungry for scandal and gossip, for stories with an edge that shed light on the dirty secrets everyone pretends to ignore. Use that to your advantage and give Roger and these men and women a voice that can’t be

ignored.” “You mean…” “I mean,” I say smiling at her. “Get their voices on film and show it to the world.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Sadie

Filming is the only thing that keeps my mind from wandering to my conversation with Roger. The article will hit the public next week and I’ve been giving a lot of thought to what Paul said. What if I told these people’s stories? What if I made it more than an article? I could help Roger take things to the next level by making a documentary of the seedy dark side of Hollywood. I know Noel isn’t the only one who uses these tactics and exposing it to the public could bring it to an end. There’s no greater shame than someone calling another person out and putting it out in the open so everyone knows what they’ve done. The day has moved so quickly, the set running like a well-oiled machine as we wrap up. I review the last shot of the day, stressing about the setting sun because if we didn’t get this shot, we’ll have to push it back, adding it to the last few days of shooting. But as I play back the scene on the small screen in front of me, a few of the crew gathered round, we all let out a sigh and small shout of victory when we see it was shot perfectly. I dismiss everyone for the day, but I had asked Ian to stay, and as things start to wind down on set, I ask him to meet me in my trailer. I had talked with Paul on how to approach this and his advice was to just be as honest as possible. He also suggested starting with Ian since he obviously isn’t holding a grudge against me. I’m sure Ian is aware I met with Roger, and I’m sure he also knows the article is

about to be thrust upon the world. My life feels like it’s spiraling out of control, but these people who have helped Roger with the article are about to find themselves on the receiving end of some serious publicity. It’s hard to take on someone like Noel, someone who for many years was hailed as a genius and placed on a pedestal in the film industry. People flock to see his movies, and despite his bad reputation, still adore what he does. It takes guts to speak out against someone with his elite status. Money buys all. My heart is racing, slamming hard into my chest when Ian knocks on the door to my trailer. I have no idea why I’m so nervous. He obviously isn’t here to berate me for marrying Noel and being a part of all of this, but there’s still something so uncomfortable about facing someone who actually went head to head with Noel. It’s easy to act like it didn’t happen because I wasn’t there, but even when I was there, I found it easier to act like it didn’t happen. Maybe if I didn’t talk about it… “Come in,” I call, wondering if I should’ve had Paul here with me. He offered, but it just felt better if I did this on my own. But now I’m panicking. My hands shake and I feel sweat begin to build on my forehead, but when he walks through the door what happens is unexpected. I start to cry. The tears flood my eyes, streaming down my cheeks, warm and salty as I sniff a few times, swiping at my eyes. I don’t want him to feel sorry for me. I don’t want him to comfort me or to try to appease my guilt. “You okay, Sadie?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know why I’m crying. “Are you okay?” I ask him back, my words coming out garbled and through ragged breaths.

“It was years ago and of course I’m okay. I’m still working. He didn’t win.” His words are casual as he shrugs his shoulders. It’s almost as if he doesn’t even know why I asked him to meet with me. “I met with Roger,” I it, sniffling and wiping at my eyes again. “I’m so sorry for what happened to you even if you say it doesn’t matter. Someone owes you an apology.” “It’s not you who owes me an apology. I stopped waiting for it a long time ago. Why do you think I took this role?” Ian moves from the door to the small couch and sits down, his arm sliding across the top of the couch. “I have no idea,” I say, openly itting my confusion. I’m not sure I could work with the wife of someone I had that type of encounter with and not hold a grudge. “It’s my fuck you to Noel. It’s me saying I you because I know he’s out there trying to trash your name and reputation.” Now his words are harsh, but they’re not directed at me. I find myself calming down as I take a seat a few feet from him. “But you know nothing about me other than I was married to Noel,” I cut in, my fear of being permanently attached to Noel constantly in the back of my mind. “I knew you weren’t a part of any of this. People talk, Sadie and they don’t just talk about him. Your name has been a whisper on everyone’s lips for years,” Ian says, giving me a small smile. “After all this time, why did you decide to be a part of Roger’s article? I’m sure you settled out of court and signed an NDA,” I say, curious about how he’s gotten around all of this. Roger and I didn’t fully discuss everyone’s case or story, but he did mention he thought Ian might have been Noel’s first assault case. “I did settle only because I was young and didn’t know what I was doing. I came out in the high five figures which at the time was a lot of money to me, but looking back on it now, I should’ve pursued it, pushed it further. My lawyer just kept warning me about who I was up against.”

Everyone is afraid of Noel Robinson. “No non-disclosure?” I ask again. “Yes, I signed one, but for some odd reason it had an end date on it. I reached out to the lawyer who settled my case all those years ago and his thoughts were that Noel figured I’d either be long gone in the industry by the end date or that I would’ve forgotten what happened by now.” “Hard to forget though, isn’t it?” “Yes and no. It made me handle things differently, and honestly I think it’s why I worked so hard to make a name for myself. I wasn’t going to let some prick with too much power overshadow my talent,” Ian states sharply. “Think about the number of people who gave up because of him,” I respond. “Think about the number of women who are afraid of men because of him,” he retorts, every word hitting me like a punch in the gut. I swallow hard, the tears beginning to form again as I say nothing in return. He’s spoken my greatest fear out loud and as much as I never feared men because of him, I know there are plenty of women who do. “It’s the reason I chose to make my story public,” Ian adds, when I fail to respond. “The article is less believable without my story and I’m not saying that to imply that any of these women are lying. It’s just a fact that women are treated differently than men. People will call them dramatic and hysterical. They’ll claim they’re lying because Noel will spin the truth in any way he can.” “I hate that his words hold more weight than the truth,” I tell Ian, still struggling to hold back the tears that threaten. “I do too, and that’s why we both need to speak out. We need to stand up for anyone who has been victimized by him, including you. You are just as much a victim as any of us. If not more so.” “I wasn’t a victim. I chose to stay and that’s where things are different. That’s why I’m partially to blame for what Noel has done. I could’ve left. I could’ve said something, but I didn’t.” This time when I speak my words are composed,

all traces of sadness are gone. “But you are now. You need to stop blaming yourself. People are allowed to change and your actions will show that,” Ian says, making what I’ve just said weigh heavier on me. “You’re right. Thank you.”

When our conversation finally ends, I feel better about how things will play out. I can’t expect every person involved in this to treat me the same way, but I can show people I’m not ing Noel and what he did any longer. I know the press will claim I’m doing this to gain publicity for my movie, and there’s no way Noel’s PR team won’t run with that too, but none of that matters. What matters is these people have their voice heard, that their voice rings louder than any tabloid or internet story. I plan to make sure of that. I walk into a quiet house, the glow of the TV guiding me toward where Paul is sprawled out on the couch. His hair is disheveled and he’s wearing just a pair of gym shorts. “How’d it go?” he asks, looking up at me. I climb on top of him, my body covering his as I rest my head on his chest. I feel the warmth of his skin against my cheek and his hands slide under my t-shirt, resting on my back. “Exhausting, but okay,” I respond. “I feel better about things.” “What did Ian have to say?” “He said he did the article because he wants people to believe the story and knows Noel will attack the women who did.” I pause for a second, wondering if I can get the next sentence out without crying. “He said he doesn’t blame me.” The words come out but so do the tears. “Baby, why are you crying?” Paul asks, shifting so he’s now pushing up on his elbows, but I can’t look at him.

“Because I have so much fucking guilt over what happened.” I manage to get out through stuttered sobs. “Because I’m overwhelmed. Because I fear for my career, for what could happen to these people, for what could happen to Roger’s career. Fuck, I don’t know.” “Come here,” he says, pulling me closer, his arms wrapping tightly around me and for what feels like forever, he just holds me. “Can we talk about the ‘what-if’?” Paul asks, his words hanging between us. “What if Noel is able to ruin your career?” “You can’t be serious?” I reply, pushing up so I’m straddling his hips. “Are you trying to make me hysterical?” “Yes, I’m being serious. You are stressed about this and by looking at what could happen it may help you process it.” I shake my head at him, practically rolling my eyes and thinking I should storm away from this ridiculous question. “Seriously, Sadie. Let’s talk about it.” “Fine. I would lose everything. My house, my reputation. I have no skills other than writing and directing.” I let out a huff, folding my arms across my chest. Smirking up at me Paul chuckles a little. “Okay, so you’re going as worst-case-scenario as possible, huh?” “Yes. You told me to look at what could happen and I did.” I lift my chin at him, narrowing my eyes. “So homeless and living on the streets. You gonna take up drug use too?” “You’re the one who started this,” I shoot back. “Can we think about this logically though?” he asks, pulling me back closer to him. “You own this house. Sell it. You’re a writer. Find a job working for a newspaper, a magazine, a catalog, whatever. Live off of me. I don’t care, but your life will not fall apart.” He says everything with finality, like he knows

there are other options, and his logic is calming. “You’re right,” I mutter, feeling defeated by my own stupidity. “I’m what?” he teases back, his fingers sliding under my shirt again and undoing my bra. Sucking at his neck I whisper back, “You’re right.” “How about I knock you up and we sell this big house, buy one in the suburbs and live happily ever after?” Paul jokes, but right now nothing sounds better. But as much as I want to disappear from this shit show, I know I can’t.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Paul

“Can’t sleep?” Sadie exhales, the noise filling the quiet of her bedroom. “Sorry, did I wake you?” I chuckle, rolling over so I’m hovering above her. “No,” I say, brushing my lips against hers. “Then why are you awake?” she asks, looking up at me, her eyes wide in the darkness. “Because,” I say, kissing her softly. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep.” Sadie exhales again, even as I move my mouth to her neck, gently kissing and sucking her skin. She’s tense beneath me. She’s distracted and thinking, and I know exactly why. “I can’t stop thinking about the article,” she confirms as I kiss a path along her jaw and back to her mouth. “I know,” I murmur, gently nibbling at her bottom lip. “About what people are going to think.” I kiss a path across the other side of her jaw, kissing the spot just below her ear that always has her melting against me. I feel her body loosen just a little as I murmur, “I know.” “What Noel’s going to think?”

This time it’s me exhaling as I move back to her, covering her mouth with mine to stop anymore talking. She kisses me back, but I can tell she’s still thinking, her mind whirling with every possible worst case scenario she can come up with. “I know,” I whisper again as I shuffle lower, kissing a path down her neck, even as she starts talking again. “He’s going to lose his shit,” she murmurs. “Going to make my life hell.” I trail my tongue across her collarbone before moving lower, nipping and sucking at her skin. “The divorce will be…oh, fuck,” she finally moans when I suck a nipple into my mouth. Her body bows beneath mine now as I suck harder, gently biting her. I feel her fingers slide into my hair, gripping tightly as she moves beneath me. Her body is tense still but in a totally different way now. I don’t stop, continuing my path down her body, kissing a trail across her ribs, down her sternum where I stop, pressing a wet kiss to her stomach. Sadie gasps as another soft moan falls from her lips, making me smile. I continue on, kissing a path over to her hip where I gently bite the rise of her bone. My hands slide over her warm skin, caressing her sides, her ass, her thighs, before gently easing them apart. “Paul,” she breathes out as I settle myself between her legs. I don’t answer her, instead I move my mouth over her skin, my palm flat against her hip and pushing her back onto the bed as I lick a path up the inside of her thigh. “Oh god.” I smile, kissing and biting her inner thigh this time as I slide a finger inside her, loving the moan she lets out in response. I know she’s not thinking about the article anymore, she’s barely thinking about anything as I move my mouth higher and start to lick and suck her, slowly pumping my finger in and out. Her fingers tighten in my hair, her hips lifting off the bed, pressing herself

against my mouth as though she’s asking for more. I slide a second finger inside, sucking harder as I pump a little faster. “Paul, fuck…” she moans, her back arching. “Yes, god…yes.” She comes quickly, clenching around my fingers, her body tightening as she lets out a long low groan into the silence of the room. I slip my fingers out, kissing a path back up her body as I push inside her, covering her mouth with mine and not giving her a chance to speak. Sadie wraps her arms around me, her nails digging into my back as I start to move, my hips thrusting against her in long, deep strokes. Our kisses grow hungrier, deeper as I push inside her, the only sounds filling the room that of our soft groans, our skin as it meets. I feel Sadie’s hips rise up to meet mine as my hand moves to her knee, hitching her leg higher so I can push deeper inside her. She groans when I do, her head pushing back into the pillow as I thrust into her over and over again. Her skin is hot against me, her heart pounding in her chest as her mouth once again finds mine, her tongue slipping into my mouth as she kisses me hard. “Oh god,” she murmurs. “Paul, yes…yes,” she says as her hips lift off the bed she comes again, this time pulling me right along with her.

“Still thinking?” Sadie laughs, lifting her head off my chest as she looks down at me, fingers brushing against my cheek. “So that’s what that was about?” Chuckling, I move my hand to her ass and squeeze. “Please, like I ever need a reason to do that,” I say, cocking a brow. She smiles, her eyes shining. “Well, thank you,” she whispers, brushing her lips against mine. “It did help.” “You’re welcome,” I murmur, my other hand moving to her head, holding her

against me as I kiss her again. “And just so you know, I’ll still be here.” Sadie pulls back. “What?” “Well,” I say, pulling her close again, “if the worst really does happen, I’ll still be here. With you.” “Paul,” she breathes out, kissing me again. “You know,” I say around her kisses. “The article’s probably already out.” “What?” she half shouts, pulling her head back. I glance at the clock beside the bed, the glowing numbers telling us it’s just after three in the morning. “I mean,” I start, turning back to her. “It’s like what, eleven in the morning in London now,” I add, even as Sadie scrambles on the bed, leaning over me as she reaches for her phone. “Shit,” she says, her fingers jabbing at the screen to wake it up. “Sadie, baby,” I say, taking the phone from her hand as I sit up and lean back against the headboard. “Come here.” I beckon her closer, pulling her against me so her back is to my chest. Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, I give her the phone back. “Just breathe,” I whisper, mouth at her ear. I feel her as she takes a deep breath, steading herself before she unlocks her phone and starts searching. The article pops up immediately, the link to The Guardian the first in a long list of news stories about Roger’s story. Sadie’s shaking fingers scroll down, bying the article she’s already read and instead looking at the reactions to it. Headline after headline tells her.

Shocking new revelations about one of Hollywood’s most powerful men. UK journalist drops a bombshell and he isn’t the only one! Noel Robinson – abusive and a cheat! Is this the end for the Hollywood legend?

Is this finally the end for one of Hollywood’s great? And are any of us surprised?

Sadie scoffs at the last one. “Pretty positive so far,” I say, squeezing her shoulder. She nods, even as her eyes stay glued to the screen. “It’s gonna be hours before anyone in L.A. sees it,” I say, even knowing she’s not putting the phone down anytime soon. She glances up at me. “But not New York,” she says, clicking on an article from the New York Times.

Well-known Hollywood director, Noel Robinson is the subject of a new article, published today in The Guardian by award-winning journalist, Roger Collins. Collins is no stranger to controversial reporting and certainly holds nothing back in his latest article, sparing no mercy for the director who used to call Collin’s country home. And if you can believe everything he tells us, it seems Noel Robinson may be in some seriously hot water and not just with the Hollywood elite.

I scan the rest of the article, my eyes flicking over the words that both criticize and applaud Roger for his article and the stories he’s now shed light on. The comments section below the article are also a mixed bag, with some people weighing in to offer to the women who’ve been a part of this, congratulating them on speaking up and others attacking Noel for the things he’s done.

And what about his wife? Where’s she in all of this?

Sadie tenses in my arms, her finger now hovering over the screen as she stares at the words.

“It’s just one comment,” I say, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “From someone who probably hasn’t even read the whole article.” “It’s what people will think though,” she says, still staring at the screen. “Maybe,” I say shrugging. “But so what. When you and Roger make the documentary, you’ll be able to give your version of events.” “Will I?” she asks, finally looking up at me. Her face is a mix of worry and confusion and I hate that she still doubts herself in all of this. “Yes, Sadie,” I say, giving her a quick kiss. “You will.” She stares up at me for a few seconds before finally nodding and turning back to her screen, where she continues to scan the comments.

Wonder if he did these things to his wife? I worked on one of his movies once. I know this stuff is true. He’s a pig and he deserves to rot in hell. The guy’s a douche and his movies suck!

Sadie chuckles a little and I exhale in relief, glad she’s reacting positively to all the comments. Just as she continues to scroll though, a text message fills the screen, the angry message shattering any semblance of peace she may have just found.

Noel: YOU FUCKING CUNT BITCH! HOW COULD YOU DO TO THIS ME? YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS SADIE, I SWEAR TO GOD YOU WILL FUCKING PAY!

I snatch the phone from her hand and place it face down on the side table. Sadie

shakes in my arms and I pull her closer, holding her tightly against my chest. “He can’t do anything to you,” I whisper, kissing her hair. “I’ve got you, okay. I’ve got you.”

By the time the sun finally comes up, neither of us have slept. I haven’t let Sadie look at her phone anymore and instead we’ve filled the hours lying in silence, Sadie’s head resting on my chest. “You want some coffee?” I ask. She nods, lifting her head so I can slide out of bed. I smile at her, giving her a quick kiss, at the same time grabbing her phone and sliding it into the pocket of my sweats as I pull them on. “Hey!” I glance back at the bed. “After you’ve had coffee,” I tell her. I head downstairs to get some brewing, leaving her phone face down on the kitchen counter. By the time it’s ready, Sadie has pulled on a robe and wandered downstairs. “Here,” I say, sliding the mug across the counter. “Thank you,” she whispers, picking it up. She blows on the hot liquid, her eyes staring at her phone on the counter. She looks exhausted, mentally and physically, dark circles under her eyes as she finally lifts them to mine. I move around the counter, stepping toward her as I pull her against me. “No matter what he says to you,” I say. “We will get through this.” She nods. “I know,” she says, pulling back as she rests her palms against my chest. “I’m okay, Paul, really,” she says. “I knew he’d be pissed, knew he’d react like this. But I’m not giving up this time. I’m tired of him and tired of his bullshit. It’s time the world knew who Noel Robinson really is.”

I smile, grateful she seems so positive about this. ‘That’s my girl.” Sadie smiles up at me. “Thank you, Paul. For everything, really.” My thumb brushes along her cheekbone as she looks up at me, her blue eyes clear and determined, despite her exhaustion. It’s almost like she’s turned a corner, as though these few hours since she saw the reaction to the article have only reinforced her need to tell her side. I want to tell her how glad I am that she’s willing to fight this, to stand up for herself and tell that asshole where to go. “Should we see what else the fucker’s had a rant about?” Sadie swallows hard before nodding once. I reach for the phone, handing it to her without looking at the screen. She turns it over, holding it between us as she unlocks it, the screen now filled with messages from various people, including Noel. She clicks on his name, opening up the chat. It’s filled with more curse-filled rages, all of them in capital letters. It’s like he’s sent her one every couple of minutes since he started with Sadie having to scroll through several screens worth. “Well,” she eventually says, letting out a deep breath. “Looks like the idiot has just given me even more ammo for the documentary.” Laughing, I pull her against me. “I like the way you think, Sadie,” I say, kissing her hard. “I like the way you think.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Sadie

The phone shakes in my hand as a scrap of paper sits in front of me with her phone number scrawled on it. She doesn’t know I’m going to call her unless Roger warned her, and if he did, she’s either going to avoid me or lay into me. Women are interesting. In times of affairs we want to blame the other women, giving men more power than they deserve. I would never blame the women who had affairs with Noel because I know what Noel was capable of. It takes me back to Noel’s ex-wife, the one he left for me. She hated me and did everything she could to trash my name and my career, but never once did she go after Noel. It was a long and uphill battle with the media to regain what reputation I had, to convince people I wasn’t just “the other woman”, but in actuality I was. I was one woman in a long string of other women. She knew what he was like though, and there’s no way she fully believed I was the reason he left her, but she needed someone to blame, someone to hate and that was me. I would never put someone through what she put me through all to make myself feel better. Cutting another women down will never build you back up, and this is the exact thought I have as I start to enter the number into my phone. We’re stronger together even if this woman won’t talk to me, even if she hates me, even if she hates herself for what happened. I hit send and wait as the phone trills in my ear, panic ri in my throat and pulsing loud in my ears as I try to figure out what I’m even going to say.

I looked her up before deciding to call her. It was a strange desperate pull to see what she looked like, if she was pretty, which sounds terribly petty, but I needed to see what Noel was drawn to. Was it the way she looked? Was she young and pretty? Was it her position in the industry? I already knew the answers to these questions. Of course she was young and pretty, and something about it made me self-conscious, like I wasn’t good enough. My thoughts are a jumbled mess, but I know everything Noel does is calculated. He played everything so well, even his affairs. He knew I’d one day find out and in order to remove the blame from himself, he hit me where he knew it would hurt the most. He made sure everyone who came after me had something more than I would ever be able to give. He made sure they were prettier or thinner or taller or more talented. He made sure he preyed on every weakness I ever itted to him. And I keep all of this in mind when the person on the other line says, “Hello?” “Hi, I’m look for Sophie Clayton,” I say, a nervousness apparent in my voice as each word shakes slightly at the end. “This is her,” she replies far more cheerfully than she will be in just a few minutes. She answered her phone because she has no idea who is calling her. She’s still looking for work and any call that comes in could be a job. Noel has made her life a living hell since the relationship ended and things probably got worse before they got better. The publishing of the article has been the most beneficial thing to happen to all these women. At least it’s out in the open now. “Hi Sophie,” I start, swallowing back the nervousness that continues. “This is Sadie Washington. I’m Noel’s…” “I know who you are,” she responds and any kindness in her voice has faded as fast as Noel’s reputation recently. “Yes,” I say, the shakiness in my voice now screaming loud and clear. “I just wanted to reach out and say I’m sorry.”

I have no idea what else to say, but what I decide on sounds weak and useless. “You have no reason to be sorry. He does, but I’ll never get that from him.” Her words come out in a rush and each one is laced with anger, but there’s also a hint of sadness. “None of us will.” I stop speaking for a second, processing my next question carefully. “Did you know he was married?” But again my words come out weak, like I’m asking for validation and blaming her for this. “Of course I did and I’m sure that makes me the villain,” she says, sort of snapping at me in a way and rightfully so. “No, not at all. I didn’t mean it that way. I just feel badly for you because I know you didn’t have a way to say no. Even telling him he’s married wouldn’t have worked.” “I didn’t care that he was married and I know that sounds shallow and vindictive, but I wanted what you have. He told me he’d make me famous. I never wanted to sleep with him. Do you have any idea how shitty I felt after every encounter with him?” I don’t answer as my heart races and tears well up in my eyes. My heart breaks for her, for every word she says. I can’t imagine what it felt like to be in her position. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, my words meaning nothing really. “I wanted to be a producer. I saw what he did for your career, how marrying him made you, but what I had with him would never amount to that. I was just a pawn in his attempt to control everything around him. I’m the fool for playing his game.” “You’re not a fool. Did you know he was married when I met him?” I ask, but don’t pause for her answer. “I had an affair with him. He left his wife for me. I thought nothing of this so what does that make me?” We can sit here and argue the logistics of the mistakes we made and which one

of us is the bigger jerk, but in the end, Noel is the one to blame. “You thought of yourself and your career and you just happened to be one of the women who were able to get Noel on your side. We all envied you and I know how ridiculous that sounds,” Sophie says, laughing without any humor. “We wanted to know how you won. What you had that we didn’t. How you managed to fare so well.” “I didn’t win anything,” I practically snap back, thinking about all the abuse I lived through and while it wasn’t physical, the verbal abuse took its toll. “You have to understand what it looked like to us on the outside. Your life was perfect. It was everything everyone in this industry wants. You had what we all hoped we would get by sleeping with him.” “It was a lie,” I it. “A beautiful lie.” “I’ve learned a lot from this,” Sophie states, her words now firm. “Women have all the power, but we cower at the hands of men. He wanted me and I gave myself willingly. I should’ve held out, used what I had to manipulate him, but I was afraid. Look where that got me.” “As much as it sucks because you’re suffering now, the article is making a big impact. I plan on making a documentary about the manipulation in the industry because I’m not going to let this die with this article,” I tell Sophie, meaning every word of it. I plan to use my experience in the film world and all my connections to keep speaking out, to keep being an advocate for women. It’s the least I can do. “I’ve always been jealous of you,” she its, a bit of a bite to her words. “Don’t be. Just because I married him doesn’t mean things were any different for me. He treated me like shit. Embarrassed me, belittled me and made me think I had no business working in the industry. I couldn’t leave.” “But you did, and you came out of it with a career. I came out of this with nothing,” she shoots back. I hate that there’s a small point of argument. Almost as if we’re battling to see

who had it worse and that wasn’t my intention when I made the call. “We can argue the logistics of this forever, but it all comes back to one thing. Noel Robinson is a horrible person,” I simply state, hoping she understands we are stronger if we take him on together. That jealousy and bitterness toward each other will get us nowhere. “The media wants us to hate each other. They want a bigger story out of this and so does Noel,” I add. “The more we push a divide between us the bigger his name gets. The more the media will run with a story about petty women. The more people will start to believe Noel. None of us want that.” “You’re right,” she finally its. “I want to hate everyone involved, but it’s getting me nowhere.” “Please know that I’m truly sorry for everything that’s happened to you and even if you agreed to sleep with him it doesn’t mean it was fully consensual. I don’t look at you as the other woman, but as another one of Noel’s victims.” “Thank you,” she says, a little less tension floating between us now. We end the conversation with me telling her I’ll be in touch regarding my documentary. I haven’t worked out much of it yet, but I plan to pitch it to a few of the studio heads I’m currently working with. I think this could be a huge story and even more so when brought to life on the big screen. I glance down at my phone as it lays on the counter, the screen glowing up at me. I run a hand through my hair and realize I have to be on set in an hour. Paul has already left for the day and is working on running through a few changes with the stunt crew before we begin shooting. I quickly shower, whip my hair into a messy bun and throw on my clothes. The crew will still be setting up, but I like to arrive before a few hours before shooting starts. For some reason I like the silence of the quiet set while I prep for the day. I could always retreat to my trailer for quiet, but something about that feels less immersive.

When I arrive, the studio is packed like always, but my specific set is quietly

running itself. The camera and set crew are finishing their first round of set up and the cast is back in makeup or wardrobe or even practicing lines in their trailers. Paul and the rest of the stunt crew are running through a safety briefing. Things are exactly as they should be and I let out a sigh of relief that something in my life is running smoothly right now. Since the article dropped my phone has been ringing non-stop and I’d be lying if I said there weren’t a massive amount of people stationed outside the gates to my house. Their cameras were all poised and ready as I pulled out of the driveway. The same happened here at the studio. Luckily, security is tight and getting into this place isn’t so easy, especially for the media. I grab a few things from my trailer, hooking up computers and headsets as I flip through a few notes from production. I’m just about to settle into my chair and review a couple of shots from yesterday, when I hear someone scream my name. It’s a muffled scream coming from a distance, but the voice grows louder and instantly I recognize it. Noel. Jumping up from my chair, the small amount of people on set freezes as Noel’s feet pound loudly, his voice bellowing through the faux walls. “Sadie, where the fuck are you?” he screams and I’m stunned into silence, my feet firmly rooted to the ground, as I look around wide-eyed. A security guard calls out, telling Noel to stop, but we all know he’s not listening. His rage has taken over and he will stop at nothing to get to me. Noel rounds the corner, his eyes set firmly on mine and before I can move, he’s on me. I can feel the heat from his body before he even touches me, and then his hand wraps around my neck, shoving me back until I’m pinned up against a wall. I struggle to get away from him, but he’s stronger than me, cutting off any air I have as he tightens his grip. “Listen you fucking cunt, I made you and I can end your career with one word.

You are going to recant everything you told that fucking journalist or I will make you pay,” he hisses in my face and panic builds inside me. He’s going to kill me. He’s going to kill me on a set full of people who are too afraid to step in. The security guard comes up behind Noel, but all he does is ask him to let me go and the seconds tick by, but they feel like hours. I grow lightheaded and I don’t know if it’s from the fear or the lack of oxygen. Noel’s face blurs in front of me and I close my eyes, and when he starts to speak again, I’m able to suck in a ragged breath. I realize in that moment Paul has tackled Noel. He’s sitting on top of him, Paul’s knees are pinning Noel to the ground, he has an arm across his neck. “Sadie, call the police,” Paul says calmly but firmly. “Sadie, call the police,” he repeats, louder this time, his words making their way to my ears. I grab for my phone and do exactly as I’m told, the adrenaline rush taking over and making me pull myself together. “Get off of me!” Noel screams, thrashing about as security rushes in and takes over for Paul. My phone call to the police is brief and within minutes I can hear the sound of running feet as more security guards enter the studio set. “Do you know who I am!” he shouts in the face of the security guard who is now handcuffing him. “Do you have any idea how powerful I am!” But no one answers him. Because no one cares anymore. And what happens right in front of my eyes is the last nail in the coffin of Noel Robinson’s career.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Paul

The security guard yanks Noel’s hands behind his back, not bothering to be gentle about it. I open my mouth to speak, to tell the guy what Noel did and that the police are on their way, but I don’t get a chance. “You fucking stupid bitch!” Noel shouts, apparently not realizing this is over for him. His face is red, spit flying from his mouth as he continues to rant. “You did this, you fucking did this to me, you…” The security guard slaps a hand over Noel’s mouth, even though I’m sure he shouldn’t. I nod once at him to confirm he should get him out of here before turning to Sadie. She’s standing beside me, her fingers curled so tightly around her phone, that her knuckles have turned white. Her whole body is shaking, her eyes wide and a huge red mark on her neck as she takes in her ex-husband hurling abuse and insults at her while the entire crew watches on. “Sadie,” I say, my voice gentle as I step toward her. “Babe?” She doesn’t move, her eyes fixed on Noel who’s now being dragged to the other side of the room by security. “Sadie,” I repeat, my hand resting on her shoulder. She flinches at my touch, even though she doesn’t look at me. “Sadie,” I say again, the word firmer this time. “Are you okay? Are you…?” I don’t have a chance to finish my question. Instead I move to catch her as she shakes her head, her legs collapsing beneath her as she sinks to the ground. “I’ve got you,” I whisper, pulling her into my lap. “I’ve got you, baby.”

Her whole body is trembling in my arms as I pull her close, rubbing a soothing hand up and down her back. Everyone on the set continues to look on, most of them frozen in place, as though they have no idea what to say or what to do or even what the hell they’ve just seen. I scan the room, searching for Shannon, her assistant. When I finally find her, I call her over. “Can you get her some water?” I ask, as she stops in front of us. “Of course,” Shannon replies before quickly moving away. She returns with a bottle of water, unscrewing the lid before handing it to me. “Here,” I whisper, holding it out for her. Sadie reaches out, her hand still shaking as she takes the bottle from me and has a tentative sip. She still hasn’t looked at me, her eyes, wide and unblinking, fixed on some distant point. “Let’s get you to your trailer,” I whisper, knowing how much she will hate that everyone’s watching her right now. “Come on.” I pull her to her feet before she has a chance to argue, my arm around her shoulder as I turn her away from the watchful eyes and we make our way toward her trailer. Shannon follows behind, but as we reach the door, I turn back. “Just give me a sec?” Shannon glances at Sadie, before turning back to me. “Sure. I’ll be right outside.” I open the door and steer Sadie inside, shutting it behind us. Moving her toward the couch, I ease her down before taking a seat beside her. “You okay?” Sadie shakes her head even as she immediately jumps up and starts pacing the small trailer, her fingers twisted together. “Sadie.” She doesn’t look at me. She just keeps pacing the room. She looks distracted and scared, as though her brain is going a million miles an hour. I wish she would come and sit down. When a knock sounds at the door, she stops, her head

shooting up to look at it. “I’ll get it,” I say, standing to answer the door. Shannon is on the other side, a worried look on her face as she looks up at me. “The police are here.” I nod once. “Just give me a sec,” I tell her before closing the door and turning back to Sadie. “Baby,” I say, walking over to her. I stand in front of her, take her hands in mine as I lift them to my mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “The police are here, okay? I think you should come talk to them.” Sadie shakes her head, her eyes wide as she stares at our ed hands. “Sadie,” I say, a little firmer this time, ducking so I can look her in the eye. “You need to talk to the police, tell them what happened.” She shakes her head immediately, her whispered, “I can’t, I can’t,” the first words she’s spoken since this all happened. I offer her a small smile, squeezing her hands. “You can. And I’ll be right there with you, okay?” She shakes her head again, her whole body now trembling as once again, her legs collapse beneath her and she sinks to the floor. I watch as she buries her face in her hands, still shaking her head. I crouch down in front of her, pull her hands from her face and cup it in mine. “Sadie,” I repeat, holding her gaze with mine. “You need to do this. You need to tell them what happened, tell them what he did to you.” “I…I can’t,” she whispers, as silent tears start to stream down her face. “He’ll, he’s…” she pauses, her eyes widening as she looks quickly about her trailer. “FUCK!” she suddenly screams, making me jump. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Her sobs are louder now, her body heaving as she struggles to breathe, the tears falling down her face, as she pulls her hands from mine and starts to pound them into the floor. “Shit,” I murmur, pulling her into my arms, holding her tightly. She buries her

face against my chest as I rock her gently and just let her cry. We sit together for a few minutes, neither of us saying anymore. Eventually Sadie’s tears stop and she pulls back, her red-rimmed eyes now looking up at me. “Sorry,” she murmurs. I smile, press a soft kiss to her lips. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” I whisper. She nods, although I know she doesn’t believe it. “You okay?” I ask, even knowing it’s a stupid question. Sadie shakes her head. “No,” she replies. “This will get better.” She shakes her head again, still not believing me. It breaks my heart that Noel is doing this to her, that she doubts herself and everything she has achieved because of one fucking asshole. I want to tell her that he’s the one who’s wrong, he’s the one who’s created this mess and he’s the one who’s fucking everything up for her. But before I can, she pulls herself from my arms, standing and moving toward the sink in the small kitchen area. She turns on the faucet, splashing her face with some water before drying it off. Then, smoothing her hands down her thighs she turns to me, smiles and says, “Coming?” I scramble to my feet, confused. “Whoa, hang on. Where are we going?” Sadie tips her head toward the door. “Out there, the police are here.” I step toward her, take her hand in mine. “Baby, are you sure you’re okay?” I ask. “We can take a minute here. Let’s talk about this.” Sadie slips her fingers into the front pocket of my jeans. “I’m okay,” she says, still smiling. “I just needed to, to process that or whatever that was,” she adds, shrugging as she pushes up on her toes to kiss me. “But,” she continues, taking a

deep breath. “If you think for one second that I’m going to let that prick get away with doing that to me, then you’re sadly mistaken.” I grin, slipping my hand to the back of her neck as I pull her in for a hard kiss.

Sadie recounts her story to the police, telling them everything that happened today, in addition to the run-ins with Noel that have led up to this moment. They interview several crew too, who all provide corroborating statements of the day’s events, while I confirm previous incidents. When they’re finally done, they ask Sadie if she’s willing to press charges and she doesn’t hesitate for a second when she says yes. Nodding, they tell her they’ll be in touch, before turning to thank everyone and leave. After they go, Sadie moves to the middle of the set, asking everyone to gather around. I hang back, knowing that this is her moment, her time to show these people who she really is and what she’s made of. “First up, I just want to say sorry for the intrusion and disruption today,” she starts, her eyes moving over the crew. “Noel never should have been allowed to come onto this set and none of you should have had to have seen that.” “You shouldn’t have had to go through it,” a male voice calls out. I glance over, see Ian Hudson, the lead actor and someone I now know has also suffered at the hands of Noel. He smiles at Sadie, before stepping closer, everyone watching him. “You aren’t alone in what you’ve gone through,” he says quietly, but still loud enough for everyone to hear. “Just like it isn’t your fault either,” he adds. Sadie nods, a sad smile on her face. “It’s none of our fault,” she says, her voice shaky. “But I have stood silent for too long,” she says, turning back to the cast and crew. “All that’s going to change,” she continues. “I know you’ve seen the article, but I want you to know, I’m not stopping there. I’m going to tell this story to the world, give every single one of you who’ve been victimized by him a voice.”

My heart pounds in my chest as I step toward the group, slowly clapping at what she’s just said, at what she’s going to do. It doesn’t take long for the rest of them to me, all of us gathering around Sadie as we show her we her. Her smile grows, her eyes wet with tears as she looks at each of us, one after the other. When her gaze finally lands on mine, I watch as she moves closer, never taking her eyes off me. When she’s standing right in front of me, she slips her arms around my waist, pulling me close as she whispers, “I couldn’t have done this without you.” I grin, wrapping her in my arms. “You could have,” I whisper back. “You’re stronger than you realize.”

Everyone takes a break to get themselves settled before we spend the rest of the afternoon working a few scenes. Filming is basically done in the next few days and even though Noel’s interruption delayed things a little, everyone has rallied to make sure we finish on time. When Sadie calls cut on the final take, everyone exhales a collective sigh of relief before moving off to pack up for the day. The crew do some final preps for filming tomorrow, while Sadie goes over a few notes with her assistants. With the stunts now all done, there’s nothing left for me to do, so I make my way back to Sadie’s trailer to wait for her. Even though we came in separate cars today, I want to suggest we go home together because we have no idea if the press will have gotten wind of Noel’s little outburst here today. I’m relaxing on the couch in her trailer with a beer when Sadie finally comes in. Smiling, I watch as she walks over to where I’m sitting, kicking off her shoes before straddling me. “Hey,” I say. “Hi,” she replies, taking my beer and having a sip. “You okay?”

She nods, leaning over to put the beer on the side table. “I am,” she replies, her hands on my chest. “And I meant what I said out there,” she adds. “About not being able to do this without you.” “Sadie, I…” “No,” she says, cutting me off. “You say I’m strong, that I can do this and hey, maybe now I finally can,” she says. “But a big part of that is you, Paul. Knowing I had you in my corner, knowing you were backing me, ing me,” she continues, her gaze locked with mine. “Knowing you weren’t running from this, it was…well, it was more than I’ve ever had for anything.” I slide my hands onto her thighs, as I stare back at her. “I’d do anything for you, Sadie,” I whisper, a truth to my words that I’ve never felt before. “All of this, it’s so…so easy for me, because I…” The rest of my declaration is cut off by the phone ringing. Sadie’s smile falls, her hand reaching into her back pocket to grab her phone. As much as I wish she wouldn’t answer it so I could finish telling her why I’m here for her, I know she needs to. “Fuck,” she whispers, her body tensing as she glances down at the screen. I look at it, see the name flashing in front of us. Ethan Fitzgerald Clapboard Films “He knows,” she says, her eyes flicking to mine again, now filled with fear at the prospect of speaking to the studio executive. “It’s going to be okay,” I whisper, squeezing her thighs, watching as she nods once before swiping the screen to answer. “Hello, this is Sadie.”

Chapter Thirty- Five

Sadie

I begin to pace the room before Ethan even has a chance to speak, my breaths coming quickly as I wait for him to say something. Nothing good can come from Noel being arrested on my movie set, for him to be carted away in handcuffs for the world to see and it plastered all over every media outlet. But more than that, it tarnishes the name of Clapboard Films and if I were Ethan that would be my biggest concern right now. A scandal on a movie set, a director assaulted, and all of this attached to the name of a film they are in charge of. This movie will never overshadow the hype of my broken marriage and my abusive ex-husband. I can’t let him have the first word, so I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, the thing I turned to every time I had an issue with Noel, anytime he went and fucked something up. “I’m sorry,” I say, itting full blame for something I know isn’t my fault, but Noel would never own up to what he did. You’re sorry?” Ethan responds, his tone almost shocked. “For what? I was calling to see if you were okay.” His words come out with a hint of a question attached as if he’s genuinely concerned for my safety. My hand instinctively goes to my neck, three small raised lines mar my skin where Noel’s hand was and by tomorrow they will probably form into a bruise. “Yes, I’m okay,” I say, but there’s a shakiness to my voice that practically gives away my fear over the situation. “I’m glad to hear that, but after everything you’ve been through I imagine this

won’t just disappear,” Ethan says, stating something I’ve been living with for a while. Noel’s always there in the back of my mind and up until today, I never quite feared him the way most people did. I always viewed him as loud and intense when he didn’t get his way, but now I know when backed into a corner he will bite. He’s watching his career and his life burn before his eyes, losing everything, but it’s all been brought on by himself. He deserves it all. “I also wanted to let you know the studio is pressing charges against Noel for tresing and breaking and entering, and a few additional things our lawyers are looking into,” Ethan continues. Letting out a deep sigh he adds, “And I think you should consider doing the same.” Pressing charges against Noel isn’t something new. I heard it from the officers who arrived on set, I heard it from Paul and I’m certain when the media pounces on this story, I’ll hear it from my parents. I hate that the public is able to reach my family before I am, but it’s the nature of the job. My father will demand I press charges. He’ll want me to hire security guards and install a new alarm system, get a dog and possibly move back to New York. Can I do this? Can I have my soon to be ex-husband thrown in jail on assault charges? If I don’t, what kind of person does that make me? How can I say I all these people who’ve come forward with their stories of Noel and his abuse, but turn a blind eye to what he just did to me? I can’t. It would make me a hypocrite and everything I’ve said, everything I’ve put out to the world would be a lie. “Of course I’m pressing charges,” I say with finality. “I’m reaching out to my lawyers today.” I Paul as the words leave my mouth and the smile on his face almost

touches his ears. He would never pressure me into making a decision I wasn’t comfortable with, and just knowing he was here to me regardless only adds to the confidence in what I’ve told Ethan. “Wonderful,” he says, the sound of a hand coming down on something hard echoes in the background and I can picture him slapping it down almost in celebration. “What about the movie?” I suddenly ask, the direction of the conversation changing drastically. “What about the movie?” he questions back, sounding slightly confused. “You have what about a week or so left of filming, so I’d assume you’d go into postproduction.” He chuckles a little as he gives me a basic rundown of what happens after a movie is finished filming. Something we both clearly already know. “Yes, that’s right, but you’re not at all concerned about the black cloud that now hangs over this movie? That we’ll forever be known…” I don’t even have a chance to continue as Ethan interrupts with a hardy laugh. “Sadie, please,” he says, relaxing the tenseness I feel blooming in my chest. “I’m not at all concerned about this bullshit overshadowing the incredible movie you’re creating. The movie will speak for itself and as far as I’m concerned Noel Robinson and his loose-cannon behavior can, excuse my language, get fucked.” I too laugh a little, knowing this is the mentality I should’ve taken years ago. “Okay, so I’ll just move forward then,” I add, hoping things settle down now. “That’s exactly what I hope you do,” Ethan responds, pausing for a second. “There’s one other thing I wanted to discuss with you.” “Okay, what’s that?” My heart begins to race again, thumping hard against my ribs even though at this point there isn’t anything more that could have a negative impact on our conversation. “Someone may have told me you’re thinking about putting together a

documentary based on The Guardian article…” “Someone told you?” I ask, a playful quality in my voice as I shoot a look at Paul. He happens to be attempting to look busy, but there’s not a chance he’s not eavesdropping on this call. “I’m guessing he’s there with you, but yeah it was Paul. I met with him the other day. I’m guessing he hasn’t shared his news with you yet either.” Now I’m shooting him daggers as he smirks at me, knowing he’s been talking behind my back. Luckily it’s all good, but he’s still going to hear it from me. “He hasn’t shared anything with me, but that’s okay. I’ll deal with that later. I am tossing around the idea of a documentary. As primarily a writer I’ve never gone that route, but in this case, I’d like to give it a try. I’d like to expose the seedy underbelly of filmmaking and the abuse of power, because I’m sure Noel isn’t the only one.” “Like you, the studio has never gone the route of documentaries, but if you’re open to it, I’d love to meet with you to talk about partnering up on this project. I think you have a lot to offer.” “I think that would definitely be something I’m interested in. Let me know some times you’re available and I’ll have my assistant set up a meeting,” I say, smiling so much my cheeks begin to burn. “Great, will do,” Ethan says, ending the call. I would never have thought my day could begin with such a mess, but end on such a high note. I quickly jot down some notes about having Shannon set up the meeting and about reaching out to Roger to assist in moving forward with the documentary. The next thing on my list is to call my lawyers, but before I go into the long process, I look over at Paul. “So, you’ve been talking about me, huh?” I say, sliding over to where he’s standing in the kitchen area of my trailer. I wrap my arms around his waist and look up at him.

“Of course I am. I’m telling anyone who will listen about my exceptionally brave and talented girlfriend.” “I’m your girlfriend now?” I tease. “What would you call yourself?” he teases back, his hands running under my shirt, his fingers giving my side a pinch. “I think it’s clear that’s what you are. And now that the media has stopped giving a shit about you cheating on your husband, I think it’s the perfect title for you.” I laugh, rolling my eyes at his cheating comment. The media loves to make something out of nothing. I can’t help but wonder what spin on the story of Noel assaulting me they will take. “But enough about me. So tell me what you were chatting with Ethan about?” Again, I look up at him, my eyes narrowed, my brows knitted together. “Well, if you must know…” he says, dragging out his words, teasing me. “Yes, I must know!” I demand, stomping my foot a little for effect. “Ethan offered me a job, a permanent position with Clapboard Films as their stunt coordinator.” “Seriously? That’s amazing! You know how hard those jobs are to come by?” I ask, my head swirling with what this all means. Paul will have a permanent residence. He won’t be going back to Canada and any fears I had about my career going up in flames have now been extinguished. The stress of wondering what would happen to us is long gone. “That means you’re staying,” I add, feeling myself getting a little choked up. “I’m staying,” he replies, giving a single nod of his head in finality. “So how does your job even work?” I ask. “I work on films they are producing. They put up the money so when a contract is signed I’m included as part of it. I have first right of refusal when it comes to projects, but they seem to have their shit together so I don’t see why I’d turn down a job.”

“Maybe you’ll be so busy you’ll have to,” I joke, fully aware of Paul’s talent in his field, I imagine he’ll be contracted to plenty of films. “So,” Paul starts, pulling back a little so he’s looking at me. My arms are still around his waist, and it feels like no matter what, I will always find comfort in being close to him. I know what’s coming and I suddenly don’t find it so overwhelming. “You ready to call your lawyers?” “I think I am.” Paul’s lips press gently to my forehead as he reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out the business card with the police officer’s name on it. “Here,” he says, handing me the card as he moves back just slightly. “You’re going to need this.” I take the card from him, slipping it into the pocket of my jeans as I take in a deep breath. “I can do this,” I say, announcing it to the room, to Paul and to myself. I can’t wonder if Noel will come after me. I can’t live my life with the constant fear he’ll eventually decide to cross the line even further than he already did. I also can’t allow him to continue to treat other people like this. By pressing charges, it will end that. It will end the fear for everyone else, too. I know the new stories are already circulating, ending Noel’s career indefinitely, and a part of me still has some guilt over it. “I never wanted to ruin his life,” I it out loud. It’s something that has weighed heavy on me since this whole thing began. I truly wish he’d faded away like all ex-husbands are supposed to do, but that’s not in his nature. “He ruined his own life,” Paul says, amending my statement. And for a second I let his words sink in. They remind me that only I can stop blaming myself for Noel’s behavior. He isn’t in control of my thinking anymore.

I step away from Paul, giving him a simple smile and a small nod of my head to let him know I’m about to make the call. Paul leans in and gives me a quick kiss before heading out of the trailer to give me the privacy I may need. I grab my phone, my hand shaking a little as I scroll through my s for my lawyers’ number. Hitting the call button, the phone rings and on the first ring, the call is answered. “Hello, this is Tony Mollen.” “Hi Tony. It’s Sadie Washington.” “Oh Sadie, your ears must have been burning,” he says, giving a wry little laugh at the end. There’s no way he would have missed the story and I’m actually surprised he or one of his associates haven’t reached out to me already. “I’d like to pursue the assault charges against my ex-husband Noel Robinson,” I declare and suddenly I feel lighter. This isn’t just for me, but for every single person who has been victimized by him. “I think that’s a great idea,” Tony says, and now it’s me laughing a little. “Like you would’ve suggested I didn’t?” I joke, knowing he’s getting paid to hunt down Noel and pin his ass to the wall. “Can I also suggest a restraining order?” “Why not.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Paul

In the days since Noel’s outburst on the set, things have been remarkably calm and relaxed. Everyone’s been really ive and positive toward Sadie, knowing they all owe it to her to get this movie finished. The detective investigating the case against Noel has been by, re-interviewing both Sadie and me and various other cast and crew who were on set that day. Sadie also now has a restraining order against Noel, meaning he’s not allowed to come within one hundred feet of her or her place of residence and even though we know he’s been made aware of it, I know she’s still carrying a small amount of anxiety over whether he’ll actually adhere to it. “Morning,” Sadie says sleepily, as she rolls toward me, a half smile on her face. “Good morning,” I whisper, leaning over to kiss her. It’s our last day of filming today and even though we still have a few things to get through, we’re starting later than usual so we can all hang back for the afterparty that’s been scheduled. “You wanna get a quick workout in?” she asks, her eyes still closed as she slides her hand onto my chest. I chuckle. “My god,” I tease. “Is this the same woman who just mere months ago thought the idea of working out was the craziest thing in the world?” Sadie pinches my nipple, clearly unimpressed with my teasing. “Or,” I murmur, leaning closer so my mouth is against her ear, “were you thinking of a different kind of workout?” Sadie smiles, opening her eyes as pushes me onto my back and hovers over me.

“Well,” she says, trailing her fingers across my chest, “I guess we could combine the two somehow?” I laugh, pulling her against me as I press a hard kiss against her mouth. “Told you it was addictive,” I whisper, my mouth against hers. Sadie smiles, sucking on my bottom lip as she says, “Actually, I think it’s you who’s addictive,” before silencing anymore conversation.

A couple of hours later, we are up and dressed and heading down the drive of her house. Just as the gates start to open, a guy on a messenger bike pulls up. I drive through the gates, stopping as I lower the window to see what he wants. He pulls a large cream envelope from his bag, glancing at the name on the front before leaning down to look in the car. “Sadie Washington?” “That’s me,” Sadie replies from the enger side. He thrusts the envelope through the window. “Sign here,” he says, now holding out a clipboard. I take it from him and it to Sadie, watching as she scribbles her name in the signature box, before I hand it back to the messenger. “Have a nice day,” he says before riding off. I glance over at Sadie, watch as she turns the envelope over, slipping her thumb under the flap and ripping it open. Inside is a stack of papers, held together by a large clip, several pages marked with sign-here tabs. Sadie looks up at me quickly, but doesn’t say anything, instead looking back at what she’s holding as she starts to flick through the pages. “Holy shit,” she murmurs, a smile slowly curving at her mouth. “Holy, shit!” “What?” I ask, not wanting to pry. “What is it?” Sadie turns the papers to me, holding them up as she laughs. “He signed the

fucking papers!” “What?” I repeat, still confused as I stare back at her. “Noel!” she half shouts. “He signed the divorce papers. Finally!” “Holy shit,” I whisper, smiling. “Right?” Sadie says. “I mean I know he’s doing this for a reason, probably to get me to back off with the charges, but whatever… I’m…I’m…” “You’re free.” “I am,” she says, her eyes filling with tears now. I pull her toward me, wrapping my arms around her in a tight embrace, my lips pressed to the top of her head. “It’s really happening,” she whispers, angling her face so she’s looking up at me as she moves her hand to my cheek. “I’m getting him out of my life.” I brush my thumb across her cheek bone, catching the tear as it starts to fall. “I’m so fucking happy for you,” I whisper, before leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips.

The last day of filming runs smoothly, everyone’s filled with a mix of excitement at knowing the shoot is now done and sadness that it’s all over. After Sadie calls cut on the very last scene, everyone starts to cheer and clap, Sadie included. “Thank you!” she shouts, knowing this whole process has been a huge t effort. “Let’s get drunk!” Ian shouts back as laughter breaks out. Sadie nods. “Food and drinks will be here in an hour,” she says. “Please stay back and us in celebrating the end of this. It’s something I couldn’t have done without you all.” More cheers break out before everyone disperses, cast to remove costume and

make-up, crew to pack away the last of the set pieces. I head over to the stunt guys, who’ve all come back today to in the after-party. “Word on the street is you’ve gone and got yourself a new job?” Gus asks, grinning at me as I walk over. I chuckle. “Maybe,” I say, even knowing they all know it’s the truth. It’s hard to keep anything a secret in Hollywood. Gus laughs, slapping me on the shoulder. “Just who your friends are when you’re looking to cast,” he says, winking. “Always,” I say. “So, does this mean you’re staying in L.A.?” he asks, a knowing smile on his face. I glance over his shoulder at Sadie who’s busy chatting with Shannon and a couple of others. We’ve never talked about what happens after this movie, at least not in of current living arrangements. And while Sadie never asked me to leave when I got my boot off and was back on my feet, I know I can’t just assume that I can stay with her indefinitely. Even if it’s exactly where I want to be. “I’m probably gonna have to head back to Vancouver,” I tell him, knowing I need to get my apartment cleaned out if I’m now going to be based here in L.A. God knows what my sister is going to think about this move, considering I never wanted to live in Hollywood. I’m sure she’ll give me plenty of shit about this and so many other things that have changed since I met Sadie. “But yeah, it does,” I say, turning back to Gus. He nods. “Good. Be nice to have you around.” I feel arms slip around my waist and Gus chuckles. “Hey,” Sadie says, smiling up at me. “You gotta sec?” Gus laughs harder. “Is that all he takes? Geez.” I punch him in the arm as I turn to Sadie. “Of course.”

We excuse ourselves and head inside her trailer, Sadie closing the door as I flop onto the couch and wait for her. “So, I signed the papers and couriered them over to my lawyer,” she says, smiling as she leans against the wall, arms crossed over her chest. “Oh yeah?” I say, hands tucked behind my head. She nods, the smile still on her face. “He says he’ll lodge them first thing tomorrow. Hopefully, with all the other shit Noel’s facing, he really won’t fight this anymore.” “He’d be smart not to,” I murmur. “It’s still going to take months to finalize,” she adds. “I mean we’ve got to divide our assets, but this is a big step in making that all happen.” I pull a hand from behind my head, beckon her toward me. With our eyes locked, Sadie saunters over, the smile that’s still on her face widening as I pat my lap, indicating exactly where she should sit. “So,” I start, as she straddles me, her fingers slipping under my t-shirt. I grin, sliding my hands up her thighs, “does this mean you’re gonna sell the house, get your own place and start over like you said?” Sadie stares back at me, the smile still on her face. “Well,” she says, cocking a brow. “I was, but…” she pauses, rocking her hips a little as though to tease me. “But?” I prompt. She giggles. “But I have a whole bunch of new memories from that house now,” she says, leaning down to kiss me. “Good ones and so I kinda want to keep it.” Chuckling, I slip a hand to her cheek. “Then you should keep it,” I tell her. “It’s your house.” Sadie leans into my palm, her smile fading a little as she bites her bottom lip. “It could be our house,” she whispers, her words barely audible. “What?”

She swallows hard, her eyes dropping to her hands, still resting on my stomach. “I mean, you’re staying in Los Angeles, right?” she says, not looking at me. “And I like sharing a house with you, so I…” “Sadie,” I say, my fingers under her chin, tilting her face so she’s looking at me. “I like sharing a house with you too,” I tell her. “And yeah I am staying in L.A. but I didn’t want to assume that I could just stay with you. Even though I want to,” I quickly add. She stares back at me, her eyes searching my face. “I want you to,” she whispers. “Really want you to.” I smile, leaning forward to kiss her. “Then I guess we’re officially moving in together,” I whisper, my lips brushing against hers. “But I am gonna have to head up to Vancouver for a bit, sort my place out.” Sadie nods. “I know, I figured you might.” I pull back a little. “You could come with me,” I suggest. “Just for a few days,” I add. “Meet my family?” “Really?” she whispers. “Yeah, really,” I tell her. “You’re my girlfriend, we’re living together, meeting each other’s families is the next step, right?” Sadie laughs, her hands sliding up my stomach under my t-shirt. “How are you so damn perfect?” she asks, shuffling closer so she’s sitting right on my dick. “Perfect for you,” I tell her, my hands sliding under her top and up her back, fingers fumbling with her bra strap. “You are,” she whispers, almost shyly. “Sadie,” I murmur, pulling her even closer, my lips against hers. “I…” A loud knock at the door cuts off the rest of what I was about to say, Shannon’s voice clear as she says, “Guys, food is here. You coming?” Sadie giggles at her assistant’s choice of words and timing.

Chuckling, I call, “We’ll be there in a sec.” “We will?” Sadie says, rocking on my hips and what she can feel this is all doing to me. I still her body, even though I would love to take this further. “I want you to go have fun tonight,” I tell her. “Celebrate everything you’ve achieved with this movie. Have a few drinks, kick back, I’ll be here with you and I’ll drive you home afterward, okay?” Sadie stares back at me, her hands still on me. “Seriously, Paul, how are you this perfect?” I smile, taking one of her hands and lifting it to my heart, knowing that I have to say this, regardless of whether it’s the right time or if we’re going to get interrupted again. I just have to get it out, tell her how I really feel. God knows if it’s too soon or too much given she’s just getting out of a broken marriage that has been a huge part of her life, but I can’t not tell her anymore. “It’s easy,” I say, smiling as I lean closer. “I love you.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Sadie

His words catch me off guard and my mouth falls open just a little. It’s not like the same words haven’t been floating around in my head for weeks now, but I didn’t dare say them out loud. I didn’t want Paul to think he was my rebound or that I was jumping back into a relationship too quickly. The connection between us is intense and I felt it the moment we met, but given all my baggage I couldn’t even think about how to process my feelings. I honestly can’t even process it now, the words falling from my mouth as if they were meant for Paul. Up until this point I don’t think I understood what it meant to fall in love, to be in a relationship with someone who wholeheartedly ed me. It’s all new and different, but in a way that’s made me a better person. Paul makes my life complete. “I love you, too,” I respond back, the excitement in my voice coming through loud and clear and I’m sure Paul can feel the pounding of my heart against his chest. I had no idea that breaking free from Noel would be when my life would finally start, that I had to lose myself before I could finally see where I was meant to be. Our mouths crash together, both of us laughing a little as I kiss him with fervor and love and happiness. “So does that mean I should take you home to meet my family, too?” I ask, my question lingering with a teasing quality. “They hated Noel.” “Everyone hates Noel,” Paul jokes back. “But yes, I’d love to meet your family

and find out what they really thought of Noel. I’m excited because he set the bar so low I could show up in my underwear and no one would care.” “Oh I’m pretty sure they would care,” I shoot back, my fingers slipping under his shirt and tracing the outline of his abdominal muscles. I begin to slowly suck at his neck, feeling him melt into me, his hands gripping my hips. My connection to him is far more intense than anything I’ve ever felt. Just the touch of his hands, the feeling of his body near mine, causes me to forget the world around us. Everything moves in slow motion and all I feel is him, igniting sparks inside me. “What do you say we christen this trailer and celebrate the end of filming?” I ask, a cheeky smile on my face, moving my hips against his. There’s something so crazy sexual, so secretive about having sex with Paul as all these people move around the movie set unaware of what’s occurring. “You don’t have to ask me twice,” he responds, his mouth connecting with mine instantly.

The weeks by quickly and post-production is going better than expected. The buzz surrounding the movie is already picking up, talk of Oscars and SAG awards are murmurings on all the film studio executives’ lips lately. But bigger than my movie is the hype and talk of Roger’s article, spawning more confessions, more articles and the exposing of people just like Noel. At least he has company now. I had no idea how big it would be when I agreed to help and while I understood the impact it could have, I never dreamed it would become a global movement, that it would change people’s lives. I still have some guilt over the negative impact it’s had, ending careers that have spanned decades, but when you’ve made your bed, you must lie in it. Paul and I have just landed in London and made our way through customs. Neither one of us can stop smiling, not caring in the least that we’re being followed by the paparazzi as we walk through the airport.

My divorce from Noel made front page headlines for weeks following the article, but since then things have died down. We’re in London to celebrate Roger’s article and Clapboard Films picking up the documentary, so right now I’m the “it” girl everyone wants. I wave to a few of them, smiling and answering their questions as we walk over to the waiting car Ava had arranged for us. Ava is Noel’s former assistant and she’s the reason I finally gave in and met with Roger. We maintained a friendship through all of this and she’s helping out with the documentary. Tonight we’ll be partying at her and her husband Lewis’ house and celebrating all the amazing things that have happened since the article went live. The driver opens the car door and inside is Ava, who screeches out loud when she sees me. “What are you doing in here?” I ask, laughing at her reaction. “I wanted to see you. I’m so excited you’re here,” she says, beaming back at me. “I’m just so damn proud of you for…” she stops short of finishing when she sees Paul standing behind me. “Paul,” she says, smiling boldly as she greets him. It’s been years since they’ve seen each other. “How are you?” “I’m good. I heard you found yourself some rich guy to be your sugar daddy,” Paul teases, chuckling a little at all the salacious tabloid stories that were written about Ava and her wealthy heir of a husband, Lewis. “Don’t believe everything you read,” she retorts, shaking her head and turning her attention back to me as we climb into the car. “What I was going to say,” Ava starts, “is I’m so damn proud of you for finally leaving Noel and for doing what you knew was right all along.” “I think that’s how we all feel,” Paul jokes with Ava, both of them shooting me looks that say they’re brilliant. “Okay, okay. Obviously I know I shouldn’t have stayed so long, but if I hadn’t I wouldn’t have meet either of you, so there,” I say, playing back with the two of

them. I shrug my shoulders and wrinkle my nose up at them, basically telling them I won the argument.

After arriving at Ava and Lewis’ house, Paul and I get cleaned up and ready for the party. Despite being exhausted and totally jetlagged, we jump right in. We only have a couple of days here because of our post-production schedule, so we have to make the most of it. The party is in full swing with people everywhere in the house. Paul is milling about talking with people. He’s far more social than I am and when I watch him interact with people my heart practically leaps from my chest. He’s so friendly and natural. Nothing about it is forced or fake and I breathe a sigh of relief that this is something I no longer have to worry about. The fear that he’ll say the wrong thing to someone, insult someone or start an argument. It’s the reason I avoided public events when I was with Noel and I realize now how much I missed them. “Hey Sadie,” a voice behind me says and I turn around to find Elizabeth Hutton. “It’s good to see you.” I struggle to find the right words to say to her. I know I owe her an apology for not coming to her defense all those months ago on Noel and my t movie set. “Elizabeth, hi,” I start, giving her a gentle smile. “How are you?” “I’m great. Thanks for asking. I guess I owe you a pretty big thank you for the article and now I hear a documentary.” Why in the world would she be thanking me? “I’m sorry, Elizabeth, but you don’t owe me anything. If anyone owes anyone, it’s me. I should’ve reached out to you weeks ago.” I pause, shaking my head. “Actually, never mind that. I should’ve spoken up when Noel attacked you. I should never have let that happen.” “Sadie, please. I hold no ill will toward you. You are not nor will you ever be in control of what Noel Robinson, or any man for that matter, says or does. I’ve

learned a few things along the way,” she says, hitting me with a wink of her eye. “I know, but it still doesn’t make me feel any less guilty. Any little bit I can do to help is where I want to find myself. This documentary is the least I can do.” She smiles at me kindly, running her hand down my arm in a comforting way. “I’ve heard great things about your movie too.” “Yeah, it’s got some great buzz going already, which is crazy and scary all at the same time.” “Nah,” she says, shaking her head, a firm look on her face. “I always knew you were the talent in that duo. I’m just glad he’s not still around outshining you.” “Thank you.” We chat for a little longer, before Roger calls everyone to his attention. He’s been working on some new leads and plans to turn his article into a series, but for now, he’s excited to share the trailer for our documentary. There’s a large screen and some speakers set up outside in Ava and Lewis’ massive backyard and the crowd of people has begun to gather around. Most of the people in attendance are women who came forward to share their stories with Roger, but there are also local TV and radio show producers, newspaper reporters and other media. They’re all here for what has been dubbed the documentary of the year and we haven’t even started shooting. I catch Paul’s eye from across the room and he makes his way over to where I’m standing. “You ready for this?” he asks, his arm slipping around my waist, pulling me close and kissing my temple. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” The short five-minute clip starts to play: a compilation of women talking about how they’ve been harassed, abused or diminished while working in Hollywood. Each of their issions is stronger than the next and then Noel’s picture flashes on the screen. It takes everything in me not a flinch, not to react to seeing him and knowing he’s the whole reason for this.

The screen cuts to black and the crowd erupts in applause and cheers. My cheeks grow hot and red, but I try to hide my nervousness. Feeling far more humbled than I ever have, I throw a hand up, thanking people for their . Roger waves me to the patio where the screen is, asking me to say a few words and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to find them. I may be a writer, but that’s not real life. Those are stories, things from my imagination and right now I don’t think I could ever find the right words to do justice for what these people have given in of my small documentary. But I owe them something, so I take the spot beside Roger and muster up what I can. “Sometimes we just need to be the voice for each other. I’m hoping my film will be that for everyone who has ever felt victimized by abuse of power. Thank you for your ,” I quickly shout out, my voice getting caught in my throat, the tears already beginning to well up in my eyes. Luckily Roger senses my nervousness and takes over. In all of this, I’m as much of a victim as anyone who came forward. Just because I married him didn’t mean I was exempt from his abuse. It’s been a hard pill to swallow and the effects of what I’ve been through are just now starting to catch up with me. I’ve lived in a fog for so long, trying not to let it affect me, but it’s hitting me now as I let it all sink in. I begin to make my way back toward Paul when Ava stops me, her gorgeous husband by her side, beaming with pride at everything she’s done to help the cause too. I know he was one of many who also witnessed the things Noel did. Next to him is Julia Harris and her boyfriend Aiden Morrissey. Julia was the first celebrity to appear in the trailer for my documentary. I had enlisted Ava’s help in securing her and while she wasn’t involved in what happened with Noel, she, like many other women in the industry, was treated poorly for years. Now’s her chance to share those stories, to show other women that even though someone says you won’t make it, one day you’ll be bigger than them. “Thanks for making me look so good,” Julia says, nodding her head and laughing a little.

“It wasn’t me who filmed you. I just pieced it all together with my editors. You should thank your boyfriend.” “He is pretty great, isn’t he?” she teases, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’ve heard some great things about your debut,” I say to Aiden directly. “I’d love to be at the premiere in L.A. when it happens.” “Same with your movie. I’m sure we can arrange something,” he says, playing along. “Maybe an invite to your screening in London in exchange for mine in L.A.” “Sounds like a plan,” I tell him as Paul walks up, his arm now resting around my shoulders. “Your girl is pretty badass,” Ava says, lifting her chin to Paul as the group nods in agreement. “She really is. It’s too bad she just figured it out now. Imagine what she could’ve been like if she’d known it all along.” He’s teasing me and he pinches my side making me laugh a little. I roll my eyes and thank everyone again as the crowd begins to mill about, conversations starting back up as Ava and Julia are pulled in different directions. And as everyone moves away, I lean into Paul even more, wrapping my arms around his waist. “Thank you,” I murmur just loud enough for only us to hear. “You did an amazing thing here,” Paul says and for the first time in my life I feel like I can do anything with a man by my side.

Epilogue

Nine months later

Paul

“You nervous?” I whisper in her ear. Sadie shakes her head even as her hand squeezes mine. I chuckle. “It’s okay to be nervous,” I tell her. “I’m not nervous.” Laughing, I lift our ed hands, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “, picture everyone naked. It’s supposed to help.” Sadie shoots me a sideways glance as Elizabeth Hutton walks out to loud applause. I give her a wink before turning back to the stage. It seems fitting she’s the one up there for this and I’m taking it as a good sign of what’s to come. We all listen as she runs through the nominees, each name getting followed by a ten second clip of the movie they directed. There are a lot of good movies in the mix. A lot of big Hollywood names too. Sadie’s the only female in the group, the only directorial debut too and I know she thinks for these reasons she doesn’t stand a chance. As Elizabeth gets to the end, Sadie’s practically vibrating in the chair beside me, her leg bouncing and I lower our hands to her thigh to try and calm her. She swallows hard, her eyes fixed on the stage as we all watch Elizabeth open the envelope.

When she smiles at the name inside, I know it’s a done deal, so I turn to Sadie now, watch her reaction as her name is called out for the Best Director award. It’s fucking priceless when it comes. Her mouth drops open and her eyes widen in surprise. I feel her hand as it clenches mine like a vice. I see the beat of her pulse in her neck and I just know her heart is pounding in her chest right now. And then she turns to face me, a look of wonder and awe and surprise on her face. I smile as I slide a hand around the back of her neck and pull her in for a kiss. “Congratulations baby,” I whisper against her mouth. “You deserve this. So much.” “Holy shit,” she murmurs, her forehead against mine. “Holy shit, Paul. What do I do? What do…” Chuckling, I kiss her again. “I think you go up there,” I say, pulling back. “And get your award,” I add, winking as I stand and pull her up with me. Around us, people are clapping, many of them standing as I pull Sadie into a tight embrace. I can feel her body shaking against mine and I know she’s nervous as hell about going up there, about speaking in front of so many of her peers, about what they think of her in all this. Especially now. “You got this,” I whisper, as I gently nudge her into the aisle. “Everyone’s naked, ?” Her eyes widen and I can’t help but laugh. “Okay, just me then,” I add, giving her a wink. She shakes her head at me but with a smile this time before turning and walking toward the stage. As she reaches the front row of seats, I see Aiden and Julia as they both stand and embrace her, Aiden as he whispers something in her ear that makes her smile. He picked up a screenplay award earlier, beating Sadie for that statue but I know

she is happy for him. I know this one means more to her tonight, because this one was always Noel’s prize, even when they worked on the movie together. Not tonight though, because tonight it’s all hers. She isn’t sharing any of it with him and she sure as shit isn’t being overshadowed by him. Aiden escorts her to the stairs as Elizabeth waits for her, a huge smile on her face. They embrace warmly as Sadie takes her statue and the envelope and then slowly makes her way to the microphone. She scans the room, her eyes wide as she takes it all in. “Holy shit,” she mutters and I’m not sure if she realizes she’s said it out loud until the crowd chuckles. She blinks once before her gaze settles on me. I give her a thumbs up, a tiny nod of encouragement and then she starts to speak. “Thank you,” she starts, her voice shaking a little. “I’d, um…I’d always thought of myself as just a writer in all of this. Someone who created the words, told the story, but stayed out of the limelight, hidden in the background.” She pauses, her eyes moving over the crowd again. “But then someone took a chance on me, believed that I could do more in all of this. And for that,” she stops, takes a deep breath. “I want to say thank you. Thank you for believing I could do this, even when it wasn’t smooth sailing and outside forces were trying to stand in my way.” I glance around, see everyone’s eyes fixed on Sadie as she stands up on the stage, her hands clasping the gold statue tightly. Everyone knows what she’s talking about. “I also want to thank the amazing cast and crew of this film. I couldn’t have done this without any of you. You made my first lead director job such a memorable and amazing experience. Clapboard Films, thank you for trusting me with this and so much more,” she continues, holding the statue out to Ethan who sits a few seats down from me. “And you,” she says, turning back to me now. I smile up at her, my arm propped on the arm rest of my seat, chin resting in my hand.

“Thank you for teaching me to fight,” she starts, a smile tugging at her lip. “For teaching me it’s okay to feel like shit sometimes but it’s not okay to blame myself for things that are out of my control.” She stops again, taking another deep breath, her eyes never leaving mine. “But most of all, thank you for ing me, for encouraging me, and for showing me there is good in the world. Thank you for loving me.” She stops now, taking a step back from the microphone as the crowd breaks into applause. Our eyes stay locked though, neither of us looking away from each other. My heart pounds in my chest at her words, at everything she said up on that stage in front of everyone. At how much all of this means to her and how much she deserves it after everything she’s had to fight through to get here. Elizabeth walks over to Sadie’s side and she slips an arm around Sadie’s shoulders, leaning in to say something to her. Sadie nods once, but before she turns away, she mouths I love you at me, and then turns to walk off the stage. It’s a while before she comes back to her seat, as she faces the media room backstage and a barrage of questions that I really hope are not about Noel or what this means given how many he’s previously won. When she finally returns, I stand, pulling her to me again. “I’m so proud of you,” I whisper in her ear. “So fucking proud of you.” Sadie pulls back, her smile wide as she looks up at me. “I definitely pictured you naked when I was up there,” she jokes, making me laugh. “Good, it’s a nice little teaser of what’s to come when we get home,” I say with a wink as I guide her back to her seat. “Thank you, Paul,” she whispers as the next presenter walks on stage. “Huh?” I say, turning to her. She stares up at me, her eyes filled with happiness. “Thank you,” she repeats. “For everything, but especially for this,” she adds, gesturing to me with her statue. I put an arm around her shoulder and pull her close. “Pretty sure I won big with that too,” I say, smiling.

The rest of the show es quickly, only a few more awards presented before the night is over. Afterwards, it’s a mass of stars and their entourage as they all make their way to the after parties, where the real fun apparently happens. I’ve never been to one of these before, hell I’ve never been to an awards show either, but it’s been a lot more fun than I expected. The company that owns Clapboard Films and Circa is throwing a huge party at the home of their CEO and that’s where we end up. As we walk in, I hear Ava call out to us and we walk over to where she and Lewis are standing with Julia and Aiden, both of whom now have statues after Julia also picked up a Best Actress award for her work on Aiden’s film. “Wow, I forgot how big and heavy these things were,” Ava says, holding Julia’s statue in her hand. Chuckling, Lewis wraps an arm around her shoulder and pulls her close as he says, “Baby, don’t you worry, I’ve got something big and heavy you can hold anytime you want.” All of us burst out laughing as Ava blushes, Lewis pressing a kiss to her temple. “So, New York next?” Julia asks, turning to Sadie. “Yep,” she says, brows raised as if to say, can you believe it. Her documentary with Roger, the one Julia is also a part of, has been slated to screen at the Tribeca film festival in a couple of months. Sadie is nervous as hell about it, not just because she’s played a huge role in putting it all together, but because of the stories it tells, hers included. The whole thing has been surrounded by news, particularly with the investigation into Noel still going on and now other names being added to the list. Roger’s continuing to work on telling the story, but their documentary, Dirty Hollywood, is about to be released to the world. I know she’s scared of the blow back, but she’s also relieved, I think, that the story is finally out there. That people are starting to understand all the shit she had to endure over the ten years she was married to him.

“It’s going to do great,” Julia says, smiling as she squeezes Sadie’s arm. “And we’ll all be there to you,” she adds.

It’s well after two in the morning by the time we roll into the waiting car, both of us now a little drunk after many celebratory champagnes. “You wanna hit up anymore parties?” I ask. “Nope,” Sadie says, sliding along the back seat so she’s resting against me. “Let’s go home.” I wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as I press a kiss to the top of her head. In her lap is her statue, the plaque at the bottom only engraved with the words BEST DIRECTOR so far. “We’ll have to get that fixed,” I say, gesturing toward it. Sadie tilts her head, looking up at me. “Yeah,” she says, smiling. “We will.” “What?” I ask, smiling as she continues to look up at me. “This was the start of it,” she adds, turning back, her fingers brushing over the plaque again, almost in awe. “Yeah?” I ask. “Yeah,” she repeats, turning back to me. “Everything good began with this movie,” she whispers, leaning up to kiss me. “And it’s only going to get better.” “It is,” I whisper, as I kiss her again, knowing I feel the exact same way.

What’s Next?

This might be the end of the Dirty Hollywood series, but don’t worry because we have a few more steamy reads you can grab and binge away on!

Looking for something steamy and oh so angsty? Check out book one in our Hawthorn Hills Duet Series, Complicate Me. Grab it here!

Complicate Me: Reid and Sienna Book One

Life at its simplest is still complicated.

Reid Bowen is her brother’s best friend and the biggest womanizer on campus. She has no business wanting him.

Sienna Parker is forbidden and the sweetest fruit he can never taste. But if he can’t have her, no one can.

Forced together by a road trip home, it will not only test their patience, but also their resolve to stay away from each other.

Bound by their past, it’s the complicated that changes their lives.

Or maybe a bit of erotic romantic suspense is more your thing? Check out book one in our Rockport Beach Series, Coming Home to You. Grab it here!

Coming Home to You

Beck O’Loughlin never got over his first love. Not even when he left her ten years ago to become the now hardened Boston detective.

But life has come full circle because he finds himself back in his hometown, bound and determined to protect her.

Kelsey Walters never imagined she’d get a second chance with the love of her life, but he reappears when she needs him most.

Stalked and tormented by an ex-boyfriend, she just longs to feel safe again and knows Beck is willing to risk his life to give her that.

As their sexual tension builds, they both realize it may not be enough to rekindle what was once lost.

Your free books are waiting!

Did you love reading about the Dirty Hollywood crew? OMG, you did!!?? We’re thrilled and we want to say thank you by offering you even more! This FREE prequel gives you a glimpse into the early lives of Beck & Kelsey and takes place before the events of Coming Home to You (Book One).

Grab your FREE copy of Beginning with You, click here!

And, because one freebie is never enough, we are also excited to offer you a FREE prequel of our Hawthorn Hills Duet Series!! This takes us back to the early lives of Sienna, Caleb and Reid and takes place before the events of Complicate Me (Book One).

Grab your FREE copy of Confuse Me right here!

Happy reading and thank you!

Books by Claire Raye

The Rockport Beach Series Coming Home to You: Book One Finding Home with You: Book Two Making Home with You: Book Three Rockport Beach: The Complete Series The Love and Wine Series Always Yours: Companion Novella Finally Yours: Book One The Dirty Hollywood Series Beautiful Secret: Book One Beautiful Trouble: Book Two Beautiful Lie: Book Three

Cocky Hero World Pin-Up Pilot

Hawthorn Hills Duet Series Complicate Me: Book One

Complete Me: Book Two Ruin Me: Book Three Rescue Me: Book Four

About the Author

Not only is Claire Raye a really sweet pen name, it’s actually a pen name for two sarcastic best friends who met through their mutual love of reading. After bonding over books (and wine and cheese), they decided to take the plunge and see if they could write a book together and ta dah... The Rockport Beach Series was born! In addition to their shared love of food and dropping an occasional (read, a lot of) f bombs, the writing duo that is Claire Raye like to write about strong, sassy females who aren’t afraid to say what’s on their mind and the overprotective men who fall in love with them. While Claire Raye’s resting bitch face might be strong, she always makes sure her alpha males are stronger!

Both halves of Claire Raye are married and both of their husbands have a cheeky side that gets plenty of airtime in their books. From their smart mouths to their witty one-liners, there’s plenty of material to use for all those alpha males they love to write about.

Plans are already underway for the next series, which is sure to feature plenty of sass, steam and humor, and of course, a happily ever after! If that’s your thing, then a Claire Raye book is for you!

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Acknowledgements

First, as always, a huge thank you to all of our readers, to all of you who buy our books and leave us a review. Your means the world to us and we couldn’t do this without you. Thanks also to our beta readers and editor who are always happy to read any draft we throw at them and provide us with invaluable . And of course, a big thank you to our husbands, for their many smart ass/arse comments and sayings that often end up in these books. We do love them (and you), so keep them coming! Writing the Dirty Hollywood series was another change of genre for us, which all started when we both read a book about a very famous Hollywood producer who did some very bad things. While that story certainly inspired this series, we wanted the focus of our books to be on the survivors, the ones who took a stand and said enough was enough. These people are the true stars. And while this might be the end of the road for the Dirty Hollywood crew, we always say it’s the end…for now, because you never know what might happen. So stay tuned, because there’s plenty more to come!