Missed

by Tess Thompson

  Rafael waited until they were out of earshot before he turned to look at Lisa.

  She wrung her hands over and over, like she was trying to wash out a stain. “Oh my God. Just oh my God. Genevieve Banks and Stefan Spencer just invited us to dinner. It’s all because of you.” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. His stomach fell to the bottom of the earth.

  “None of this has anything to do with me,” he said. “You’ve gotten the world’s attention. This is the beginning.”

  He was a selfish bastard. All he could think about was himself. The more Stefans and Genevieves in Lisa’s life, the less likely someone like him would be allowed anywhere near her. She was a rising star. Everything important he was ever going to do, he’d already done. His life was about simplicity—friends and family and making ends meet, not Hollywood parties and premieres.

  Lisa’s costar in Raven, Glynnis Newman, appeared before them. All sharp angles, she reminded Rafael of a Picasso painting during his cubist phase. Beady eyes fixed on Lisa. He had an image of a steel scrubbing brush ripping a piece of silk to shreds.

  “Lisa Perry. You look like you belong here. They’ve put you into a nice package.” She raised one eyebrow. “That didn’t take long.”

  “Hi, Glynnis.” Lisa stood and held out her hand.

  The older woman ignored her outstretched hand and sat across from them.

  Rafael took Lisa’s hand and helped her back into their seat.

  “I see you met little Gennie Banks. Isn’t she the lucky one?” Glynnis’s short, spiky hair was the color of beets, which washed out her skin and made her makeup appear garish.

  “Excuse me?” Lisa asked.

  “She’s had so much success with such little talent.” Glynnis gestured with one long, bedazzled red fingernail toward one of the servers, who bustled over with a tray of champagne.

  Glynnis took a glass and seemed to fix her gaze on Rafael’s plate of food. She was like the raccoon that had been a frequent visitor to Flora and Dax’s patio. One wrong move and she’d scratch your eyes out, then take your shrimp.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Lisa said.

  Glynnis rattled the copious bangles that ran up her arm. “From what I hear, there are a lot of takes and a lot of editing to make her look like she can act.”

  He covered Lisa’s hand with his own, wishing he could shield her entire body with his.

  “How have you been?” Lisa asked. Clearly, she’d chosen to let the remark about Genevieve go without comment. Wise.

  “Remarkable,” Glynnis said. “Dinner with the queen last month. It’s good to be me.” She wasn’t British, but her speech was affected with every vowel sound elongated past the point of necessary.

  “How exciting,” Lisa said.

  “Not really. She’s a bore. Nothing interesting about her or those corgi dogs she carries on about.” Glynnis turned her attention to Rafael. “And who have we here? Let me guess. A friend from home? He practically drips Midwestern decency.”

  “No, ma’am. Born and bred in Oakland.”

  “Oakland? I bet you’ve seen a thing or two,” Glynnis said.

  “Meaning?” he asked.

  “Never mind.” Glynnis said dismissively. “I wouldn’t want to say the wrong thing and get myself in trouble.”

  Lisa’s arm tensed against him.

  Mama always said to change the subject if someone was being unpleasant. “I’m looking forward to the movie tomorrow night.”

  Glynnis tugged on her earring and fixed her mean eyes on him. “Are you?”

  “Who wouldn’t be?” he asked.

  She stared at him through narrowed eyes before turning to Lisa. “They’re calling you a scene-stealer,” Glynnis said to Lisa. “Isn’t that delightful?”

  “I’m sure that’s not true.” Lisa said.

  Glynnis leaned closer and spoke through her teeth. “That agent of yours tried to get you equal billing with me. I had a good laugh over that one.”

  “But we’re costars,” Lisa said. “My role has more screen time.”

  Glynnis leaned back and crossed her legs. “I didn’t know this kind of thing still happened. It’s so old Hollywood.”

  “What kind of thing?” Lisa asked.

  “The whole casting couch thing.” Glynnis smiled and sipped her drink. “You know, a little tit for tat.”

  “What are you implying?” Lisa asked.

  “I used to be you. The only difference is I was pretty, and I could act. You’ve got only one. Too bad it’s the one that fades.”

  Rafael wanted to punch the wicked witch right in her plastic face. “You better apologize right now.” If only he could shove her face into the cocktail sauce.

  “Rafael, it’s okay. I’ve got this.” Lisa drew an inch closer to Glynnis. “I paid my dues in New York. I studied for years. I performed on Broadway. I can dance, sing, and act. You were born into Hollywood royalty. I earned the right to be here—not because my daddy bought my way into films.”

  “He did no such thing.” Glynnis’s mouth twitched. Her hands shook with suppressed rage.

  “There’s help for this kind of behavior,” Rafael said. “Anger support groups. Coaches to help you live a more peaceful existence.”

  “Go to hell,” Glynnis whispered.

  Rafael took in a deep breath to steady his temper. He stood and offered his hand to Lisa. “Let’s get out of here.” Before they left, he looked down at Glynnis. “I feel sorry for you. It must be awful to be this petty and jealous.”

  What was this strange world? How was Lisa supposed to remain unchanged? He glanced at the house next door and thought of the lovely couple who were inside with their baby. If he were to save Lisa, it wouldn’t be from a man with a gun. It would be from a beast like Glynnis Newman.

  10

  Lisa

  * * *

  The minute they returned to the hotel suite, Lisa kicked off her sandals. Instant relief. “My feet were killing me.”

  She watched Rafael shrug out of his jacket and loosen a button on his shirt. “It hurts me just to look at them.”

  “My shoes or my feet?” she asked.

  “Definitely the shoes. Your feet? Perfection.”

  She wandered over to the minibar. “Have you ever eaten anything out of a minibar before?”

  “Are you kidding?”

  She laughed. “I know. Way too expensive. But let’s do it. I want chocolate and wine.”

  “I should’ve smuggled some of that shrimp out with us.”

  “If only.”

  “Why didn’t you eat at the party?” he asked.

  “Because I don’t eat in front of people. I told you that.”

  “You eat in front of me.”

  “You’re special.” She grabbed a dark chocolate bar and a bottle of red wine.

  He crossed over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. “You’re complicated, you know that?”

  “So I’ve been told.” Over and over again. Impulsive, complicated, unpredictable. All were bad things, if she were to believe her ex-boyfriends.

  He kissed a spot just under her ear. “Complicated is good. I’ll never get bored trying to figure out what you’re going to do next.”

  “You say that now.” She turned to face him. Was this man like the others? Obsessed with shiny objects until they no longer shone? In love until he no longer found her fascinating but merely too much trouble?

  He smiled at her, then gave her a quick kiss. “Come on now, don’t look so serious. Let’s have a nice night. I want to savor every moment of the time I have with you.”

  “Really? Savor?” Did he mean that?

  “Yes. Savor. Go change into comfortable clothes. I’ll open this.” He let her go and reached for the wine opener and two glasses.

  She traipsed off to her room and slipped out of the dress. Wearing only her bra and panties, she stood in front of the full-length mirror. She was neither tall nor short. At just over five feet six inc
hes tall, she’d always been perfectly average. Her breasts were small. She had muscular legs and arms from dance, but they weren’t slim like Maggie’s and Pepper’s. She was not thin like the other girls in this town. Her rib cage was well hidden and her hips wide. Her mother always said she was born in the wrong era. If only she’d been young before the age of the skinny supermodel.

  The face she saw in the mirror was ordinary, enhanced by the makeup, but not striking like Maggie with her copper hair and ballerina frame or Pepper’s petite body and arresting dark eyes and hair. She was just plain old Lisa. A casting agent had said she was like a vanilla wafer, white and bland.

  Years ago, a producer had told her to get a breast enhancement. She’d talked it over with Maggie and Pepper and they’d all agreed that although it would be nice to be bigger, there was no way any of them could afford one even if they wanted an invasive surgery where they inserted bags into your chest. Tonight, however, when she’d seen all the perfect people with their perfect bodies, she’d stumbled in her resolve. Was this the beginning of her changing? Would another year in this town make her consider breast augmentation?

  There it was again. That strange floating sensation she’d experienced earlier at the party. Like she was in someone else’s life. She didn’t belong here. Did she even want to? Given tonight, the answer was no. She didn’t want to live like the people at that party, desperate and lonely, always wishing for more than they had, even though they supposedly had everything. Tonight’s fiasco had been the opposite of a party in Cliffside Bay. Maggie’s friends lived life by their own rules, not the nasty ones that reigned over Hollywood.

  Glynnis was like the devil. Or had she merely sold her soul to the devil in exchange for wealth and fame? Wasn’t that what Marigold had done? Given in to evil forces because of her need for external validation? Was that what she was doing, too?

  Rafael hadn’t said much on the ride home, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Had he felt dirty after the exchanges with Eden and Glynnis? Had the racial slur hurt him as it had hurt her? Would he see her differently now that he’d had a glimpse of this life?

  She kept her bra and panties on under her pajamas. The laundry service had washed them and folded them into perfect squares. They smelled good, too.

  Rafael sat in the corner of the couch, reading a magazine. A pair of black reading glasses was perched on his nose, and his legs were spread out on the coffee table. The glasses made him seem vulnerable to her, less tough—more regular mortal than trained Navy SEAL.

  “I didn’t know you wore glasses,” she said.

  He ripped them from his face and tossed them on the table. “You didn’t see those.”

  “You look great in them.” He did, too.

  “My distance vision is good, but up close has gone to hell.”

  Arranged on the coffee table in a perfect triangle were two glasses of red wine and the open bottle. Squares of chocolate were artfully displayed on a plate. Soft jazz played from the television. The perfect date night. A shyness swept over her. She didn’t know what to do next.

  “Is the music all right?” he asked. “Jazz. No triggers?”

  She nodded and grabbed a glass of wine. He nestled into one corner of the couch with his arm across the back. For a moment, she didn’t know where to sit. Next to him? On the chair?

  “What’s up, Stardust?”

  “I don’t know where to sit.”

  “My answer’s always going to be the same. Next to me.”

  She took the spot next to him. With both legs curled under her, she faced him. Her knees brushed the outside of his leg.

  He tapped her bare knee. “How’s the wine?”

  She tasted, enjoying the explosion of fruit in her mouth. “It’s good, right? Actually, I don’t know anything about wine.”

  “It tastes good to me. Zane told me that’s all that matters. If you like it, then it’s good.” He drank from his glass, staring at her over the rim.

  She blushed and looked away from his intense gaze.

  “You’ve gone shy on me tonight. What’s up?” He lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Where’d you go inside that head of yours?”

  “I’m here.” She smiled, remembering how she used to escape into her mind when she was young. “When I was a kid, I spent a lot of time in my head. I imagined adventures in which I was the brave heroine, rescuing orphans and old ladies.”

  “I did that, too.” He played with a lock of her hair. His knuckles brushed the side of her face. “Did you have a cape?”

  “No. No cape.”

  Rafael set his wineglass on the coffee table and smiled, wider than usual. She saw a glimpse of his perfect teeth. What she would give to see his “Hollywood” smile more often. “Well, I had a cape. A magic one, so I could fly anywhere I wanted.”

  “Where did you go?” she asked.

  “Usually to the ocean. I’d sit on the top of the apartment building with my cape flowing out behind me. I imagined the sound of waves and seagulls instead of the noise of cars and people fighting. I pretended the scent of salt water and kelp replaced the smell of urine and booze that baked into the sidewalks.”

  “Is that why you moved to Cliffside Bay? To be by the ocean?”

  “It’s not like it was a methodical plan. When my agency called about the job for the Mullens, I jumped at the chance. Everything I ever wanted is right there.”

  “Everything? What about someone to share it with?”

  His eyelids flickered. He grabbed his glass of wine from the table and seemed to examine the contents for bugs. “Everyone wants that. Not everyone gets it. Especially people like me.”

  “Why you?”

  He finished his glass and leaned forward to pour some more. “You believe in curses?”

  “No, of course not.”

  He smiled. “My mother thinks the Soto family is cursed when it comes to love. For three generations, the women have raised children as single mothers. She went to some psychic crackpot who told her someone had put a curse on us. No Soto would ever have a happy marriage.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  He turned to her. “But because she believes the curse, does that make it true?”

  “Self-fulfilling prophecy and all that? That’s a big question.”

  “Your favorite kind.”

  She looked past him at the print on the wall of a yellow flower. “We have these beliefs about ourselves—things we take as truth when they’re actually someone else’s opinion. They may or may not be true. Have I told myself I’m unstable because my mother told me I was?”

  “Or because she wanted you to be?”

  “What?”

  “Keeping you down meant you wouldn’t leave her.”

  His words echoed through her. She gripped the stem of the glass between her fingers. Was that true? Had she wanted her to stay small? She’d been thrilled when Lisa moved home a few years ago. It had been her brother who knew she wouldn’t last in Iowa. David had said it wasn’t the place for her any longer. He was right.

  She played with a button on her pajama top.

  His hand enveloped hers. “Maybe let me do that.”

  She forgot all about her family. It was only Rafael. Oh, God, this man. His eyes, his mouth, the texture of his hands. She wanted them on her.

  He tugged on the collar of her top, running the back of his finger against the lace of her bra. Her disloyal nipple responded by growing taut. She sucked in a breath.

  “Do you want me in your bed tonight?” he asked, low and throaty.

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  His hand moved to the hollow between her breasts. “The last thing I would ever want to feel before I meet my maker is your skin.” He planted kisses up and down her neck before pulling back to look into her eyes. “If we open this door, are you prepared for the aftermath?”

  “Aftermath?” She could barely think from the buzz between them.

  “The heartbreak that will come after we
have to go back to our real lives. You know as well as I—we don’t belong together. It doesn’t matter how much heat there is between us. You’re stardust and I’m just dust.”

  He could believe that all he wanted, but she knew there was no going back if they let the fire between them burn. If he thought she could walk away, he was delusional. It would be the other way around. He would tire of her, as men always did. Once he had conquered her physically, he would withdraw. Men left her. She was the shiny new truck until she was no longer shiny, and they bounded off to the next toy. They sensed her neediness, her desire for true love. The longer and harder she yearned for love, the more elusive it became. For now, though, she would enjoy every moment of time with him. She would take it for as long as he’d stay. When he left, she would live on the memories.

  “You don’t have to worry about the fallout,” she said. “In no time at all, you’ll be happy to leave.”

  His eyes snapped like fireflies in the dark night. “Why would you say that?”

  “Because no one has ever wanted to stay past the glittery stage.” She blinked her eyes to indicate her fake eyelashes. “After a few days of seeing me without makeup or learning more about who I really am, you’ll suddenly become disenchanted. It happens every single time. I know to expect it now. It’s quite a relief, actually.” To her dismay, tears blurred her vision. She looked up at him. “So I take what I can get, and then I move on. It doesn’t hurt as bad as it used to.”

  He cradled her face in his hands. “Listen to me. Those guys in the past—they didn’t leave because they saw the real you and didn’t like it. They realized they weren’t worthy of washing your feet, let alone being in your bed. None of them had a strong enough ego for a woman like you. They were fragile and immature.” He spoke through clenched teeth. “I want to throttle whoever made you believe that horseshit. I swear to God I’d love to kick the ass of every one of those idiots that didn’t realize they had the finest woman they would ever meet.”

  Wasn’t that true of Rafael? He didn’t think he was good enough for her. How was he different from any of them?