Back in the bed, making love slow, making love again fast. Me on top. Him on top. Me holding on to the headboard and watching him. Him between my legs, watching me.
Our need was insatiable. It was our time together that was finite.
“What are you doing over here?” Max rumbled.
“Memorizing the view.” I turned my head away from the window to watch him cross to me.
He frowned. “You should have woken me.”
“I didn’t have the heart to.” I barely had the heart to leave him. “It’s later than late. It’s time for me to go.” I swallowed hard.
“It’s only nine thirty.” His eyes dark, his strong arms slid around my hips to clasp my bottom, and he drew me close. “We have thirty minutes.”
“We need to talk.”
Tension tightened his frame. “About?” he asked carefully, his eyes searching mine.
“So many things.” So many doubts rattling around in my head. New ones too. I had come to see him, determined to solidify things with us. Now I wondered if I should let him go.
Why had Max needed comforting and not come to me for it?
Why did he know so much about Lori personally?
If their relationship was only professional, why had she been touching him?
And the real problem: why was I too afraid to ask?
Max angled his head, seeming to sort through my unspoken thoughts and find the most important one to address. “There’s nothing going on between Lori and me. You have nothing to worry about. She’s in love with someone else, and I’m in love with you.”
“But—”
“I’m yours, Hollie. Do you think in time you’ll be able to trust that and love me in return?”
And he hit the mark. Dead center.
“You should let me go,” I said.
“I don’t want to do that. I don’t think you really want me to. But you didn’t answer my question.”
“Because I don’t know the answer.”
“I think you do. But we’re going to need to be together to get you there. These separations aren’t good for us.”
“No, they’re not. I wholeheartedly agree. But I’ve thought and thought about it, and I don’t have a solution. My job is always going to be unpredictable.”
“When you come back, we’ll figure it out.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Love has a way of making the impossible possible.”
“But is that reality or just wishful thinking?”
“A little of both, I guess. It’s all theoretical until we put it into practice.” He studied me some more. “You’re afraid.”
“I grew up with Samuel and my mother. I didn’t see a successful example.”
“I just had my grandmother.” Max’s brow creased. The shadows that had been in his eyes the day before returned. He might be surer than I was, but he had his doubts too.
“So, this is good-bye. But we’re not taking a break.”
“Just good-bye until we say hello again. Then it’s me and you again, together back inside the frame.”
Hours later, in my seat on the plane with nothing else to do but think, my mind tumbled over our conversation and those last words in particular.
The frame only seemed to work properly for us when we were both together inside it.
Too much of the time, we weren’t.
• • •
“Hey, baby.” Max sounded out of breath when he answered his cell. “How’s the on-location filming going?”
“It’s going,” I grumbled.
“I thought you were excited about getting out there and really digging into the meatier parts of the script.”
“I am.”
Or at least, I had been. I couldn’t seem to muster enthusiasm at the moment. I was tired so much of the time, and his talk about meat reminded me of the sausage I’d had for dinner. The onsite catering sat heavy in my stomach. All the food I’d eaten in Switzerland seemed to disagree with me.
“You don’t sound enthusiastic.”
“Just frustrated, I guess.” I sank onto the tiny bed, little better than a cot in my temporary cabin.
I had more trouble sleeping here than in Chicago. Part of the reason was missing him. Part was the script. A plane crash, survival in the wilderness, desperation and hard choices, the film’s mood made me feel somber and fatalistic.
“How’s work for you?” I asked.
“It’s okay.”
“That doesn’t sound like a glowing endorsement.”
“It’s a job, shug. It’s not a passion like your work is for you.”
I liked that answer. Despite my best efforts not to be jealous, I was. I kept replaying the scene in the backyard between Lori and him. I told myself being so far away magnified the intimacy of the moment in my mind. I was doing too much second-guessing lately.
Samuel. The trial. Aside from my acting, I felt uncertain about everything.
“Where are you right now?” I asked. “Can I see you?” It had been weeks since we’d messed around on Facetime.
“I can’t. Not right now. I’m . . .” There was a long, significant pause. “I’m not at the condo. I’m out.”
“Are you not alone?” Was he with Lori? I hated the neediness in my voice, and hated myself that I was too cowardly to ask outright about her.
“Are you by yourself?” There was an edge of insinuation to his tone I didn’t like.
“Yes. I’m in my cabin. About to go to sleep. We filmed all day in the cold, and I’m exhausted.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, letting out a loud sigh. “There’s a bunch of photos of you and Cedric that someone just showed me.” Max suddenly sounded as exhausted as me.
“Who showed them to you?” Had it been Lori? This wasn’t the first time jealousy had come up on his end, and now it had infected me too, disturbingly.
“It’s not important.”
Wasn’t it?
“I miss you,” he said.
“I miss you. I miss us.” I couldn’t even imagine the frame anymore.
“I miss that too.”
We talked a little more about inconsequential stuff. Easier things. But not for very long. Max seemed distracted and distant.
I told myself it was just the physical separation. But I worried that it was more.
“This is the third time you’ve puked on set.” Cedric gave me a concerned look as we walked along the beaten path back to our cabins together.
“It’s cold. We’re filming in the snow. My feet are frozen. The campfire food’s barely warm and leaves much to be desired. It’s nothing more than that.”
“I think it’s more.” His brow scrunched beneath his knit cap.
“Spit it out.”
In the months that Cedric and I had been together, we hadn’t kindled any romantic fires the way the pictures Max had seen apparently hinted. Cedric was too much like an annoying older brother. Even if Max wasn’t in the picture, and he was, though we were out of the frame and in a wobbly holding pattern until I returned to LA.
“No bullshit, all right? Friend to friend?”
“I guess.”
“In love, I do this. Platonic love, of course.”
“Okay.” My queasy stomach lurched.
“Here.”
He thrust his cell into my mittened hands. I glanced down at the photo on its screen and froze colder than the packed snow beneath my feet.
Max and Lori, all dressed up. He was wearing a tux. She was in a ballgown. She looked elegant. He was as handsome as ever. They were holding hands, and appeared to be a couple.
“Where? How?” I tried to process it. It was difficult to do with the ground seeming to tilt beneath my feet.
“I’ve got a friend of a friend.”
“But when?” I asked. There was no internet connectivity out here.
“The Golden Globes.” He touched my arm. “There’s more. I wouldn’t show you, only you’re gonna find out soon since we’re done shoot
ing on location. And I’m going to insist you get on the train tomorrow and see a doctor.”
“You figured I’d see the pictures in town.”
“Yeah. Better bad news from a friend than a stranger or a reporter, right?”
I nodded, knowing Cedric’s recent breakup had come about very publicly. My chest tightening, I lowered my head again as he swiped through more photos on his phone.
Not just Max and Lori. My stepfather was in one with them also.
“So, they ran into each other at the Globes.” I made excuses.
Cedric kept swiping and swiping, and I stumbled.
“I’m going to need to sit down.”
“Let’s get you in your cabin.” He hooked his arm in mine and helped me up onto the porch and then inside. I sank into the chair by the fireplace the staff had already lit.
I glanced up at him with tears brimming in my eyes. “How long have you had those photos?”
“A week.”
“You wanted to finish shooting before you showed them to me.”
“Yeah.” Looking sheepish, Cedric rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.
“Get out.”
“Hollie, c’mon.”
“Out. Out now.” My voice rose. “Don’t tell me you want to help me.” No one could help me. “Love is a lie. It’s all a lie.”
I was alone. I would always be alone. Only I was a bigger fool than I could have ever imagined.
• • •
“Hols.” Fanny picked up on the first ring. “Where are you? You sound like you’re inside a tunnel. The connection’s terrible.”
“Does a plane count?” I asked dully, staring out at the snowy tarmac. We were getting ready to pull away from the gate.
“Are you still in Switzerland?”
“Yes. But I’m getting ready to take off to . . . to come home.”
Would the condo feel like home anymore, when all the memories I’d made with Max within it had been a lie?
Speaking low, I said, “I don’t have much time. The flight attendant will be coming down the aisle any minute. But I wanted you to hear the news from me. I’m pregnant. Max is the father. Not Cedric. Not Zachary. Not any of my current or former costars. Max.”
The doctor had assured me my medical information would remain confidential, but I didn’t know what the laws were over here, and I certainly didn’t feel like trusting anyone right now.
“Oh my gosh! That’s wonderful. I’m at the Deck Bar. I just wished on the mermaid—”
“Not so wonderful.” Tears choked me. “Max is the only man for me. The only man I’ve ever been with, but apparently he hasn’t been as discriminating.”
“He’s fooling around on you?”
“Yes.” Tears slid down my cheeks.
“That doesn’t seem right.”
It didn’t seem right to me either.
A shadow fell over me. The flight attendant stopped in the aisle beside my seat.
“I’ve got to go. I’ll text you when I land. And I’ll call you after I talk to him about the . . . situation. I’m going to need you.”
“You have me. I’ll head up to LA as soon as I get your text.”
Ending the call, I leaned my seat back as soon as we were allowed to. As the hours passed, I dozed fretfully. Thinking of confronting Max in person and telling him I was carrying his child weren’t thoughts that were conducive to napping. But it had to be done. There was no way I would tell him he was a father by a text or an email.
I turned my head to the window, watching the wispy clouds become thicker ones. My throat thickened too, emotion tightening it as I recalled the doctor’s reassurances.
Nineteen years old is a good age to have a baby.
I wasn’t so sure. All I knew was that my life would never be the same. Last year, I’d celebrated my birthday at the beach with a man I thought cared for me. This year, I’d celebrated it on location in Switzerland with a cast and crew, not even knowing that I was pregnant.
I placed my hand on my abdomen. Me. A mother.
A sob bubbled up.
What did I know about a baby or raising a child except what I’d learned from my own mother? And oh, yay. Guess what? Surprise for me. The pattern of her past had repeated itself in mine.
Eerie, the similarity.
I’d worried about emulating my stepfather, but in reality, I was becoming my mom.
Pregnant, soon to be alone, a single mother, the father a memory I could explain or not explain. Was infidelity the reason my mother had never told Fanny or me anything about our father? I could empathize with her choice. Once Max confessed, I wouldn’t want him in my life anymore. It would be too painful.
Maybe if I was as unlucky as she’d been, I could find a man to marry who could grow to hate me.
As I gritted my teeth on that thought, the plane speakers crackled on to announce our landing.
As a celebrity VIP, I deplaned before the other passengers, went through customs alone, and donned sunglasses and a hat afterward. Glancing in a mirror on the way out, I thought I was pretty incognito, but there were several paparazzi who snapped photos when I reached the baggage area, and Olivia certainly recognized me.
“Glad to have you back.” Catching me by surprise, she hugged me. “Congratulations on the pregnancy,” she whispered into my ear.
“Thank you,” I murmured. Tears pricked my eyes. Nausea and crying at the slightest things? I should have recognized the symptoms earlier.
“Do you want me to tell you what I’ve learned now or when we’re inside the car?”
“If you’re asking me, it must be upsetting. In the car.”
She nodded, flagged down a porter, and we moved outside together. Once we were situated in the back seat of the car, she gathered my hands in hers. My stomach swirling with unease, I gulped back bile.
“I’m not as certain as you are that he’s having a full-on affair with Lori. The current photos certainly make it seem like they’re together, and the scene you happened upon at her house is an unsettling one, for sure. But all that can be explained away, as can the pictures with them and Samuel, since she’s reportedly considering making a movie with him. Since no one was willing to comment one way or the other when I inquired discreetly, I took the liberty of hiring an investigator to look into it.”
“Did they find out anything?” I asked and held my breath.
“Nothing about an affair. Something worse, I’m afraid.” Her brow creased. “Maximillian received a large sum of money into his bank account right before he started working for you.”
“From who?” I whispered.
“From Samuel.”
“No.” I shook my head. “It can’t be.”
I closed my eyes, but in my heart I knew something had always been wrong. That Max had held back something. I’d given him a pass, way back at the beginning of us. Then there were all the things he knew about Samuel, the familiarity between the two of them, the hints, the coincidences that hadn’t lined up before. In retrospect, they all made sense now.
Tears streamed from my eyes.
“I’m sorry, Hollie. But we have to assume he’s been feeding information to Samuel from the beginning.” Olivia’s hands tightened over mine. “I know you want to talk to Maximillian in person, that you want to believe there’s some kind of explanation for what he did, but I really think it would be best to let the lawyers handle it from here on out.”
• • •
“I don’t like this,” Olivia said when the sedan rolled to a stop at the boardwalk.
“I’ve got to do it. I need to do it for me.”
And I had to tell Max in person about the pregnancy. That had nothing to do with my stepfather or anyone else. It was between Max and me.
“I need to look him in the eyes.”
I was done hiding from the truth. Done avoiding questions that I should have asked all along. I was done. Just done.
Olivia gave me a worried look. “Then let me go with you.”
<
br /> “No.” I unbuckled my seat belt. “It won’t take long. I appreciate you waiting for me here.”
I got out, closed the door, and glanced around, searching for Max’s golden hair in the crowd, hating the hopeful pang that arose in my heart. Even knowing all I knew, I continued to long for his affection.
It had seemed so real.
Joggers. Inline skaters. Skateboarders. Sightseers. They moved along the sidewalk, following the designated directional markers.
My heart in my throat, I glanced both ways for him, but my queasiness made me feel unsteady. Spying a park bench, I moved toward it.
More minutes passed without Max appearing. The minutes felt like hours.
He knew I knew; I’d told him. I had suggested we meet at the condo. But it was his day for swimming, and he’d proposed we talk at the beach instead.
I glanced down and read through our texts again to see if I had misread something.
HOLLIE: I’ve seen the photos with you and Lori. Olivia hired an investigator. I know about the money you took from Samuel. I’m back in LA. I want to end this charade between us face-to-face civilly. Can we meet at the condo at 3:30?
MAX: Meet me in Santa Monica. The bend in the sidewalk between the public showers and the beach café with the orange umbrellas.
No denial. Chillingly direct.
Nausea roiling inside me, I lifted my head as someone called my name.
“Yes?” I lowered my sunglasses to view the young boy who had rollerbladed to a stop in front of me.
He smiled. “You’re prettier in person than you are in the movies.”
“Thank you.” If I weren’t so sad, I would have returned his sweet smile. “Did you want an autograph?”
“No. Max was down by the beach earlier. He swims at the same place every week. We talk sometimes. Today, he asked me to come find you and give you this.”
He withdrew an envelope from his shorts pocket and offered it to me.
“Thanks.” I recognized Max’s handwriting. As I tore the envelope open, my hands shook.
Dearest Hollie,
I tried to wait where you are likely sitting now. If you’re reading this letter, then Geoffrey found you.
High Tide Page 28
