Mr. April: A Celebrity Romance (Calendar Boys Book 4)

by Nicole S. Goodin

  “I’m sorry, Blaire, but Mr. Thorn had to leave on short notice in the middle of the night. He asked me to give this to you.”

  She hands me an envelope.

  “How did he know I’d come?”

  She shrugs. “He didn’t. He said he only hoped you would.”

  And now here I am. Holding the only little piece of him that I’ll ever have – other than the photo on my phone that I’m entirely too scared to look at.

  I’m tempted to just throw this envelope in the bin and make a solid attempt at getting on with my life – the life that I had before I ran into him – but it doesn’t feel like the same life anymore.

  It’s lacking. It feels… empty.

  I’ve never been one of those women that always wants more – that isn’t satisfied with what they have.

  I know I have a good life. I have a life some people can only dream about… I have a great job, friends that I love, a husband and a roof over my head.

  I have food, clothes and water.

  I have everything I need – but I don’t have everything I want.

  Maybe that makes me ungrateful, or a horrible person, but so be it, because I want him – like I’ve never wanted anything before.

  I slide the crease of the envelope open and pull the folded paper out from inside.

  I let the envelope fall to the ground and take a deep breath.

  I’ve got it this far, I reason, I may as well finish the job.

  I open one fold of the paper and my eyes land on his handwriting.

  It’s a manly, messy, scrawl that makes my stomach flutter.

  I open the last fold and my heart thumps in my chest at the sight of my name scribbled at the top.

  Blaire,

  I don’t even know where to start – I don’t even know your last name… technically, I don’t know anything about you…

  But I do. I know you. I know that your smile can light up a room, and that I can feel your laughter right down deep inside of me.

  I know that you want more from this life and you deserve every last little bit of that more.

  I hope that you allow yourself to have it one day.

  I want more too.

  I want it with you.

  I know I’ll never get you, but it won’t stop me from wanting.

  You changed something inside of me today – something I didn’t know needed changing.

  I wish more than anything that I could have more than one day with you, but I guess our lives are just too far apart.

  You’re married.

  I hope that you’re happy, because that’s all I want for you. More than being happy myself – I want you to be happy, so I hope that you are.

  I guess if you’ve come here and got this letter, then maybe you’re not happy, but you can be – you should be, Blaire.

  I don’t even know what I’m trying to say. There’s a reason I read scripts instead of writing them, but I know that there’s something there – you’ve given me something to say.

  I have to go, but I want you to know that wherever I am in the world, I’ll never ever forget this day – I’ll never forget you.

  I don’t know how it’s possible to miss someone you never knew, but I miss you, Blaire.

  I miss you so much already.

  Live your life and I’ll try and live mine too.

  Beck x

  (I’m sorry I never got to sing for you.)

  Tears are streaming down my face as my eyes trace over every handwritten letter of the alphabet on the page.

  He used twenty-six letters to break my heart.

  I know it’s not his fault – it was me that left when it mattered and not him, but that doesn’t help to ease the ache in my chest at all.

  He’s really gone.

  A loud sob rips up my throat.

  I don’t want him to be gone.

  “Make me stay. Come with me.”

  His plea floats through my head on repeat, cutting me deep.

  I turned him down, and for what?

  For Harvey? For his grunted responses and lack of affection?

  For my job? A job that I can do anywhere in the world…

  For my friends?

  My family?

  For what?

  It certainly wasn’t for me.

  I read through his letter three more times, until I’m all cried out, until I’m so drained I don’t even know how I’ll get up.

  I sit there under that tree until I’m numb, then I push to my feet and go to try and do what he asked me to do – get on with my life.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Beckett

  One year later

  “Tonight you have the red carpet and the official premiere, and the next few weeks are booked solid with interviews and appearances. I’ll have your full schedule compiled and emailed over to you in the morning, Mr. Thorn.”

  I close my eyes momentarily and breathe in deeply, I don’t know if I’m more frustrated with the fact that I won’t get a moment to myself for the next month, or that no matter how many times I tell this fucking woman to call me Beck, she still continues to call me Mr. Thorn at least one hundred times a day.

  “Thank you, Lila,” I mutter.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you right now?” she asks.

  Get the fuck out, I think, but don’t say – a common theme in my life these days.

  “Is my tux ready for tonight?” I ask instead.

  “Of course. It’s already waiting for you in your bedroom.”

  “And what about Jamie, are we picking her up?”

  “At eight.”

  I nod my head. “That’ll be all for now. Thank you.”

  She nods her head at me and scurries out the door.

  I don’t need her to tell me that the stylists and god damn makeup artists will be here in a couple of hours.

  I know the drill. Although I’m not sure why the production company continues to insist upon bringing in the woman with the makeup, because unless I’m on set, there’s no way I’m putting that shit on my face – they should know that by now.

  I don’t care how shiny my forehead might look.

  I pick up my cell phone off the table in front of me and scroll through until I find Jamie’s number to text her, armed with my new information.

  To: Jamie

  From: Beck

  I’ll pick you up at eight

  To: Beck

  From: Jamie

  I’m so excited, I can’t wait! See you in a few hours x

  I smile at that. Her giddy excitement is infectious.

  I toss the phone back on the couch and get to my feet.

  I feel so restless. I don’t know if it’s because of the thousands of people that I know are waiting for me to walk that red strip of carpet tonight, so they can beg me to sign something or take a photo with them, or if it’s something else entirely.

  I know what it usually is, although I haven’t allowed myself to think too hard about that particular subject for a few days now.

  But no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to erase her for long.

  She’s stuck in my brain forever. She’s like a tattoo on the inside of my eye lids.

  I close my eyes and there she is, looking at me, smiling at me… laughing…

  And she’s so beautiful.

  It’s been a whole year and I still can’t get over the woman who stole a piece of my heart.

  I stroll over to the window and look out at the view of my back yard.

  It’s perfect. I’m not responsible for any of it. I’ve got someone to clean the pool, someone to mow the grass and someone to do the gardens.

  I’ve got someone who cleans my house and someone who cooks my food for me. I don’t even have to wash my own underwear.

  I don’t know who I am.

  I’m not Beckett Thorn anymore. I’m the guy on the screen that everyone wants a piece of.

  I thought things were intense this time last year, but that seems like nothing
now compared to this. That’s how it feels every time I reach a new level. I hope like hell that this is the top of this god forsaken mountain.

  I knew when I took this role that my life as I knew it would be over, but I needed it. I needed a project that would consume me so deeply that I wouldn’t have time to hurt or over think. I needed this role that felt like me at last. I needed to finally do something that meant something to the world – and more importantly, to me.

  I needed to do what I told her I would, and get on with my life.

  I’d be lying if I said that part had worked.

  I see her everywhere.

  The woman who sells hot dogs the block over from the set has the same colour eyes, the young girl who delivers the courier packages to the house has the same colour hair.

  I hear her laugh in a crowded room, and I can’t help but look twice at every pair of black denim shorts.

  Those damn short shorts. I don’t know why she had to walk out of my life looking like that.

  I don’t know how I’m supposed to move on from her when she’s everywhere.

  Maybe this is my karma for being all over billboards, magazine covers and theatre screens – because I know she’ll be seeing me everywhere too.

  She’d have to have had her eyes shut for the past six months to have missed me and what’s about to go down in the weeks to come.

  I know this movie is great.

  It’s possibly the best movie of the year. Critics are calling for numerous nominations already, and it’s not even officially released yet.

  My career, my life – it’s all been catapulted into a universe I never thought possible.

  There’s a knock at my door and John sticks his head around the frame.

  “How you doing, Beck?”

  I glance back over my shoulder at him before looking back out the window.

  I don’t reply.

  “That good, huh?” he asks dryly.

  I grunt in response.

  I hear him close the door and walk further into the room.

  “You know, considering you’re about to reveal the performance of a lifetime to the entire world, you seem pretty down about life.”

  If she were here, I’d feel differently, I know I would.

  “Is this still about that woman?”

  I pull my gaze from the window and land it on my manager.

  John might only be about ten years older than me – my real age anyway – but he looks like he’s got about twenty years on me.

  It’s probably odd that I look at him as more of a father figure than a friend, but that’s what he’s been to me.

  He’s been on my team since I first entered the industry – when I was a fresh-faced, wide-eyed newbie with no idea what was going to happen to my life. That was when I earned the nickname ‘kid’ from him, and it’s stuck.

  “Well?” he asks as I sit down in the seat opposite to the one he’s chosen. “The girl?”

  I nod and let my head hang.

  “Beck…”

  “I’m a fool for that woman… I can’t even explain it.” I grind out the words – as though they physically pain me.

  “So go back and get her.”

  My head rises. “Go back to what? It was one day… one kiss.”

  “One kiss you’re still thinking about a year later,” he points out. “She must have been one hell of a kisser.”

  “She’s married… I don’t even know her last name.” I recite the excuses I’ve been telling myself for months.

  “You’re one of the most powerful men in the world right now; you really don’t think you could track her down if you wanted to?”

  I shrug.

  There’s silence between us for a few moments.

  “You’re scared of what you’ll find if you go back there, am I right?”

  I swallow the lump that has risen in my throat. He’s hit the nail square on the head.

  I’m terrified of what I might find.

  “She could have a family by now,” I reply quietly, finally voicing my fears. “What if I turned up on her door step and she’s eight months pregnant?”

  I watch him nodding his head in understanding.

  “But what if she’s not?”

  I don’t have an answer for that. I don’t have an answer for any of this.

  “Why can’t I let this go?”

  “My best guess?” he offers.

  I nod.

  “You love her.”

  I huff out a breath. “After one day?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t care if it was only one hour. Look at you. As soon as you’re left alone with your thoughts, you’re miserable. The only time you lose the face is when you’re acting or you’re sleeping. You’re not the same man who got on that plane a year ago and disappeared. Something happened to you over there, and if it wasn’t love then I don’t know what the fuck it was, but maybe you should see a doctor.”

  “I don’t need to see a doctor,” I grumble.

  “You sure? No rashes?” he suggests in an obvious and unsuccessful attempt to distract me.

  “I’d be happy if it were a rash at this point,” I drawl.

  “Seriously, kid, you came back twice the actor you were before you left – and given that you were one of the best at that point, that’s saying something. That woman changed you.”

  I know he’s right. I have changed. I’m better than I was. I’m following my heart and not just going through the motions.

  I just wish I could follow my heart the whole way… right back to her.

  “I’ll make you a deal,” he says, his tone turning serious again. “If you’re still thinking about her at the end of this press tour, I’ll fly you over there and help you find her myself.”

  I’ll still be thinking about her. I know I will be, but that doesn’t mean that I should go and find her – she’s probably long moved on with her life.

  “Sure, man. Sounds good,” I say, even though I have no intentions of doing anything of the sort. “I’ll let you know.”

  “You should get ready for tonight.”

  I nod my head.

  “It’s a party, Beck, not a funeral. You should try and smile.”

  “Has the car been booked? I have to pick up Jamie at eight.”

  He nods his head a few times as he watches me. “Right… Jamie… sure… the car will be ready for you by seven-thirty.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Blaire

  “Seriously, Harvey? You know I’m going out with the girls, why can’t you fend for yourself tonight?”

  He yells back something that I can’t make out and I decide that I actually don’t care anymore. I less than don’t care – if that’s even a thing.

  I’m not meant to be meeting the girls for about another hour, but I’d rather sit in my car outside the movie theatre all alone for sixty minutes than stay here a second longer.

  This house has become unbearable.

  I don’t want to throw in the towel with my marriage, but I know it’s going to have to happen. It’s inevitable – the ending of this shit storm we’re trying to pass off as a relationship.

  I just can’t seem to make the words come out of my mouth to tell him that it’s over.

  I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t even recognise my own life these days.

  I start the engine and wait for the roller door to go up behind me.

  I mutter a string of curse words under my breath – all directed at myself for letting this go on as long as I have.

  None of my friends could just drive away from their house and have their husband not give two shits.

  Other than having no one to make his dinner for him, Harvey won’t even care I’m gone.

  That’s all I’m good for these days – the things he doesn’t want to do for himself.

  We haven’t slept together in months, and prior to that, I can’t recall the last time it didn’t feel forced or like it was an obligation.

  I drive off down the
driveway without so much as a backwards glance, wishing all the while that I didn’t have to come back here later on this evening.

  I let my mind drift as I drive down the familiar streets and into town. It’s a dangerous thing – letting my mind wander.

  It always seems to find its way back to the exact same place, or rather, the same person.

  Him.

  It’s always him.

  Not a day goes by that he doesn’t cross my mind or that I don’t long for him and what could have been between us.

  The ‘what ifs’ – they haunt me.

  I wish I’d got on that plane with him.

  I should have. I know that now. But the reality is I didn’t – and now I’m paying the price.

  I think all the time about what my life would be like if I had never run into him a year ago.

  I fell in love with him that day and I’ve never fallen back out.

  He changed me in those few short hours, yet my life didn’t change.

  I’m a different person on the inside, but on the outside, everything still looks the same.

  I don’t know how I’m going to get through this movie. I guess I should be grateful that it’s taken a year for him to appear on the big screen again, and thus far, I’ve managed to avoid seeing too many trailers or clips.

  I can handle seeing him in print – barely – but I’m half expecting a total break down when I see him in motion.

  I’m afraid it will all be too real.

  I can only hope that this role is so far from the person I know him to be, that it’ll be simple to separate the two.

  But I don’t like my chances of that. Beckett is a fantastic actor – he’s one of the best, and he becomes the character he plays. I’m sure that’s not about to change in this movie.

  I glance up and look around the street. There are a few people loitering around, a teenage couple holding hands, a woman striding down the footpath who glances at her watch every couple of seconds, an elderly man sitting on a bench presumably waiting for his ride, and a young man washing the window of a store front.