by Anne Patrick
"Why would you want to know about my ex-wife?"
Okay, now what? Jamie tried frantically to come up with something other than admitting the truth. "Because we're friends and that's what friends do. That's what we used to do, anyway. I confided in you about my home life. My crush on Carter. I told you lots of things that I never told anyone else. Not even Mallory."
"Why do you think that is?"
"Simple. I trusted you. I knew you would keep your trap shut."
He grinned, but Jamie suspected it wasn't the answer he was hoping for. "You're not the only person who's ever been cheated on, Gage. It hurts, yes. It will for a long time. But if you build a wall around your heart, you're not only shutting out the bad. You're shutting out the good."
"Richie Gaines cheated on you. That's why you broke it off with him."
"That, and I learned he was doing cocaine. He knew how I felt about drugs and alcohol, so he hid it from me. That hurt just as bad as his cheating on me. I thought he had changed. I believed him when he told me he had. I guess I was just naïve." Jamie sighed. It felt good to finally talk to somebody about it. "His betrayal isn't going to stop me from finding the right guy for me, though. If I close myself off, stop dating, I'm letting him win. I'm giving him power over my life. And that's not going to happen."
"You're not afraid of getting hurt again?"
"Sure I am, but everything worth having in life takes risk. If I'd given up after the first hundred rejections I received after auditioning for parts, I never would've landed my first role."
"And you never would've won an Oscar."
"Right." She took a drink of coffee, giving him a chance to open up and confide in her.
"It's getting late." He stood and walked to the sink, placing his cup inside.
Jamie smothered a chuckle. Why were men so incompetent when it came to communicating matters of the heart?
"Thanks for the coffee and the company."
"Anytime." Disappointed, Jamie walked him to the door. Then stood on the porch as he made his way to his truck.
Gage opened the door and turned to her. "That kiss I mentioned . . . worth every penny." He threw her a gorgeous smile before ducking into his truck.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
On his morning break, Gage returned to the office and did a quick Internet search for the radio station that would be broadcasting Jamie's interview. Tommy had given him the information when Gage called him earlier that morning to see if Tommy had learned anything from the hate mail his agency had on file. As it turned out, none of them were of a threatening nature, just irate fans upset with Jamie for busting up the romance between her and Richie Gaines.
He thought of his talk with Jamie last night. Any doubts he had of whether or not she was interested in him were put to rest after he confessed he'd been the one to kiss her and not Carter. The look on her face was priceless. Now that she was back in town, that childhood crush had been reignited. He was still wary of doing anything about it, though. It wasn't because he was still nursing a broken heart. He was long past Janessa. Still, the memory was there, and he was a bit gun shy.
Gage found the station and clicked on the link. The interview was over, but he was able to listen to a recording of it.
"Thanks for having me on your show this morning, Bill. I normally don't address gossip, but I'm going to in this instance. Contrary to what your listeners may have read, or will read in the days to come, last week, while on vacation, I was the victim of an attempted mugging."
"Oh no. I hope you weren't seriously injured."
"Not at all, Bill, just a little bump on the head," Jamie quickly downplayed her injury. "If you were to see me now, you would never know it even happened."
"I believe we have the police officer who was first on the scene with us . . . Officer Cade Williams."
"Yes, Bill. It's unfortunate we had to drag this good man away from his duties to confirm the story, but due to an over zealous fan and false rumors which sprang up afterwards, Officer Williams graciously agreed to set the record straight."
Officer Williams sounded nervous as he confirmed the attack on Jamie, adding "Miss Sutton is an extremely lucky lady. Her injuries could've been much worse. While the suspect was able to elude capture, the investigation is ongoing and my department is doing our best in locating and apprehending him."
The interview concluded with Jamie telling the listeners that she looked forward to September when she would begin filming on her new movie.
Gage prayed the interview would help to defuse the situation.
The timing of the tabloid story had bothered Gage since Saturday when Jamie had learned of it. She'd been here less than a week, and already someone had left a cryptic note, she was almost mugged, and now this. It didn't seem that far of a reach to suspect all three were connected.
He recalled their conversation yesterday and Jamie's question as to where the tabloid reporter had gotten the idea in the first place. Gage wondered if the same person responsible for the note and mugging had seen the picture posted and decided to use it to his advantage and tip off the tabloid. A scandal would no doubt drive Jamie back to California.
The only way he would know for sure was to get the reporter to lead him to the source, and the chance of that happening was slim to none. Everyone knew reporters never gave up their sources.
On the way to his car, he gave Jamie a call. "Nice interview."
"You listened?"
"I caught the replay. Williams sounded a little nervous, but you came off like a pro."
"Poor guy. I thought he was going to back out on me when I first called him. I think I'm gonna have to buy him a steak dinner or something after this."
He ignored a pang of jealousy. "I'm sure he would appreciate that."
"How's work going?"
"Nothing too exciting. Do you have a busy day planned?"
"Just working around the house. I also need to go by your mom's. I forgot the paint and carpet swatches she took with her Saturday."
He considered dropping by his mom's for lunch on the off chance he would run into her.
"Do you have any lunch plans?"
He almost laughed. "Nothing special. You want to meet somewhere. I'll buy."
"Does Deb's serve sandwiches?" she asked.
"The best in town. Twelve thirty okay?"
"All right, I'll meet you there."
Gage hung up just as his radio squawked. "Say again, Macy."
"Need you to take a burglary report at 516 Maple."
"Ten-four. I'm on my way.
***
Gage was fifteen minutes late to the diner. Thankfully, Jamie's black Tahoe was still parked across the street. He whipped in beside it and jogged to the restaurant. After a quick scan of the patrons, he spotted her in a booth along the front window. She waved at him. He noticed instead of the usual blonde wig she wore in public, her hair color was more blondish brown today.
Gage took off his cap and slid into the booth across from her. "Sorry I'm late. I was on a call."
"That's okay." Jamie took a sip of her iced tea then picked up the menu.
"New wig?"
"No, I was tired of wearing a wig, so I dyed my hair this morning. I was going to have to dye it anyway for my new movie."
Rosie, one of Deb's day waitresses, came over to take their order.
Jamie passed her menu to him before placing her order. "I'd like a turkey sandwich with lettuce, pickles, and light mayonnaise on the side, please."
"The club for me. With fries." Gage handed Rosie the menus. "And tea with lemon."
Gage settled back in the booth and found Jamie smiling at him. He wondered if she'd given his confession any thought, and if her invitation to lunch was her way of letting him know she was interested in something more than friendship. "What's your new movie about?"
"Can't tell you yet."
"Top secret, huh?"
"No, the screenwriter is still working on the script. Hopefully, I'll get it in the nex
t couple of weeks. All I know for sure is I'm portraying a former Army medic who is suffering from PTSD."
"Some of the characters you've played have been nothing like you. How do you pull that off?"
"I study in depth the role I will be playing. Memorizing my lines will be of little help without understanding the character. I have to put myself in her shoes."
Rosie returned with their sandwiches and his tea. Gage said grace then ate one of his fries as he watched Jamie put together her sandwich, adding only a dab of the mayonnaise. "How do you put yourself in her shoes? Give me an example."
"Well, in order for my character to come to life, I have to bring to the role those parts of me that are similar to the person I'm portraying. I have to look deep inside myself and find feelings that will help me come across as angry, sad, or bitter if those are traits with which my character is dealing." Jamie took another sip of her tea, her gaze steady on him. "For instance, in The End Game, my character was married to an alcoholic. I grew up with one, so I pretty much had that down. And in Target on Her Back, Angie had a serial killer after her. Although I couldn't remember all the details of my dad's murder, I remember how scared I was. I drew on that."
"Well, you definitely nailed that role. The night you won your Oscar, Mom had us all come over and watch. She just knew you were going to win."
She shook her head, smiling. No doubt that night was the biggest thrill of her career. "I was a nervous wreck. I had prepared a speech, but when they called my name, I was genuinely shocked. I was so scared I was going to make a fool out of myself up there in front of all those people. Not to mention the millions who were watching."
"You did a beautiful job." He remembered Richie Gaines was her date. Though he smiled and kissed her, he hadn’t come off as sincere. Gage figured he was just jealous. He wasn't even nominated for his co-staring role in the film.
Jamie took a bite of her sandwich and then swiped her mouth with a napkin. "You're doing it again."
"What am I doing?" he asked innocently, knowing full well to what she referred.
She didn't buy it, though. "You said you were out on a call? Tell me about it."
"Mr. Pettijohn came home from his vacation and found his house had been broken into. I took his statement, dusted for prints, and snapped some photos. That's about it."
"That's the only call you got today?"
"There was a wreck earlier this morning just inside the county. No one was seriously injured. I also wrote a couple of speeding tickets."
"No armed robberies or high-speed chases?"
Now she was teasing him. He didn't mind, though. "Not today."
"But you have had them in the past?"
"Since I've been on the force, we've only had one armed robbery, and maybe a dozen chases. Only one got away. We get mostly domestic disturbances, theft, an occasional burglary or drug bust, and car accidents, drunk and disorderly, assault and batteries. Nothing too major."
"Some of those sound pretty serious."
"They can be."
"You really enjoy your work, don't you?"
"Yes, I do. For the most part, it's pretty mundane, but I don't mind the quiet days. I hate working the graveyard shift, though."
Jamie laughed. "Pretty boring, huh?"
"Except when there's a full moon. Then it seems like everything happens at once."
Jamie finished her sandwich and then snuck one of his fries.
"You're welcome to the rest," he offered.
"No, just the one." She reached for her sunglasses on the table and slipped them on, then grabbed her purse. "Thanks for lunch."
"You're leaving?" He still had twenty minutes.
She nodded. "I told your mom I'd be by before one." She stood and put her hand on his shoulder. "Have a good rest of the day."
"You, too." He watched Jamie cross the street to her Tahoe. He already missed her. Lord, what am I doing here? I enjoy being with Jamie, but at the same time, I'm scared. She's a movie star from California, and I'm a cop in a hick town. How would that ever work?
"Can I get you a piece of pie, Gage?" Rosie asked.
He blew out a sigh. "No, but I'll take a refill."
"Is your lady friend coming back?"
"No."
Rosie gathered Jamie's dishes. "She's very pretty. Does she live around here? She looks awfully familiar."
"No, she's just visiting. Could I get that tea in a to-go cup?"
"You bet. Coming right up."
***
Stella waved from her porch swing as Jamie pulled down the drive. She parked next to Stella's minivan and joined her.
Stella handed her a glass of tea. "Sorry the ice is melted."
"Actually, I just finished a glass. I met Gage for lunch in town."
"That's nice. I'm so glad you two are getting on so well." Stella took back the tea. "I'll go get your samples."
Jamie's forwardness in asking Gage about his plans had surprised her. She usually wasn't that bold with men. With Gage, it seemed so natural. Even though she had only been here a week, with all the time they'd been spending together, it was almost like she never left. And since their talk last night and his revelation about their childhood kiss, she hadn't stopped thinking of him. Jamie had liked both twins, each for their own unique qualities. Carter had been more like her as far as their type-A personalities, and that's why she had a crush on him. Gage, on the other hand, was more easygoing, laidback. That's why she always thought it was Carter who kissed her. It didn't seem like something Gage would do.
These days, Jamie preferred the company of even-tempered and less domineering men. Guys who weren't looking in the mirror every few minutes, or texting or checking phone messages while trying to carry on a conversation; ones who didn't feel the need to compete for attention or control every situation.
Stella returned and handed Jamie the swatches. "I put my initials on the ones I thought would work best. They're all lovely, though. Have you called anyone to lay the carpet yet?"
"No. I'm going to wait until I've finished painting."
"Good idea."
"Do you know of anyone I can get to haul off the junk?"
"Henry Miller runs the city dump. Give him a call. He'll bring out a bin and when it's full, he'll exchange it for an empty one until you're done. He'll charge you, but it shouldn't be too much."
"Also, can you tell me where Mrs. Jennings lives? I was hoping to pay her a visit tomorrow."
"Why do you want to do that, Jamie? You've both been through so much."
"You told me the first day we spoke that my hatred for my mother wasn't going to do me any good. The only way I can get past that anger is to come to terms with what happened. I can't do either of those things until I fill in some missing blanks."
"You still don't remember?"
"Very little. I don't believe Dwight killed my father, though, and I would like her to know that."
"North Elm, around the corner from the post office. It's a beige two-story with a wrap-around porch."
"Thanks."
Stella grabbed her hand. "Just remember that she's still hurting, too. Dwight was her only child."
"I know." Somehow she had to get answers, though.
Hopefully, Lucy Jennings wouldn't slam the door in her face tomorrow.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jamie took her phone and morning coffee and headed outside to sit on the front porch. The last few days she had set her alarm clock to wake just before dawn so she could watch the sun rise and listen to the birds as they cheered in the new morning. Today she had overslept, though, having spent a large portion of her evening packing everything that was to be thrown away. She figured another day or two and she would have that task out of the way and could begin painting.
She pushed open the screen door and saw a single red rose lying at the edge of her porch. Underneath it was a piece of paper.
Jamie hesitated. Memories of the last note left for her hit her full force. The screen slammed shut and Jam
ie jumped.
She looked around. The gravel road, connecting to her drive, was empty. She sucked in a deep breath and grabbed the note. Enjoy your day! It was signed, Gage.
Jamie laughed. Sitting on the top step, she picked up the rose and inhaled its delicious scent. "Gage Hansen, you're a dangerous man." She was about to call him when her phone rang. It was Tommy. "You're up awfully early."
"How is my favorite actress today?"
"Couldn't be better."
"How's the noggin?" There was rustling on his end. He was multi-tasking.
"I haven't had a headache in days, and hopefully I get my stitches out Wednesday."
"That's great, kid." Muffled voices in the background, then more rustling. "Craig called me yesterday. He and the producer want to meet with you in a couple of weeks here in L.A. Is that doable?"
"Shouldn't be a problem. Is the script ready? I'd like to read the rewrites before I have to be on the set." She had read the original before she auditioned for the role, but since then several scenes had been added or extracted, and one of the minor characters totally eliminated.
"Hang on a minute." A door shut on his end and then there was the familiar squeak of his office chair. "Okay, I'm back. Where were we?"
"The script," she reminded him, not bothering to shield her annoyance.
"Sorry, Jamie. Craig promised he'd have it to me either before or at the meeting."
"And why do they want to see me?" She had a good idea of the answer before she asked.
"Your bloody face was plastered all over social media. You looked like you'd been slammed into a brick wall headfirst. They just want to make sure you're okay."
"I'm doing the interview Friday. Isn't that good enough for them?"
"They want to see you without makeup. They also want to discuss some of the changes made to the screenplay."
"Okay, I'll be there."
Jamie hung up and went inside for more coffee. As much as she loved acting, the politics and narcissistic attitudes in the business sometimes drove her crazy. She glanced down at the rose and note in her other hand and couldn't help but smile. Jamie had received many roses, dozens and dozens of them over the years. None were as special as this one.
