Unwritten

by Rachel Lacey

  What was that about? Josh followed her gaze and saw nothing but a couple of men carrying professional cameras, which was hardly unusual in Central Park. Photographers came here daily to capture the sights. He hesitated. This was his chance to walk away. He could still salvage some time to himself. Because despite Lily’s meddling insistence that it was time to move on, he’d felt no inklings in that direction.

  Or he hadn’t until now anyway. Kate had definitely stirred something inside him, something he hadn’t felt in a long damn time.

  She beckoned with a smile, already headed toward the path. “Come on. We don’t bite.”

  There was an urgency behind her smile, drawing him toward her even when he knew he ought to be walking away.

  * * *

  “Did you know these rocks are over half a billion years old?”

  Kate glanced at Josh as they walked. “I didn’t.”

  A breeze ruffled his sandy brown hair. Josh was tall and solid, clean-cut like a man who worked behind a desk, yet his forearms—visible where he had rolled up his sleeves—were those of a man who worked out. His rugged features might not stand out in Hollywood, but he was undeniably handsome in his blue button-down shirt and khaki pants.

  His eyes captivated her, a verdant green flecked with gold. When she looked into them, her restless nerves calmed. If she wasn’t careful, she could lose herself in those hazel depths. She didn’t even know Josh’s last name, and he sure as hell didn’t know hers. Best to keep it that way. As of this morning, she was walking a tightrope. Any distraction might cause her to fall.

  “They originally formed about twenty miles underground and were pushed to the surface over time through erosion. On some of them, you can actually see glacial troughs, where the ice carved into them during the ice age.”

  She tipped her head. “Are you a history teacher?”

  “A Spanish teacher, actually, but I do love history. Sorry.” He made a face as if he’d just revealed himself as a huge nerd.

  “Don’t be.” His nerdy side was unexpectedly sexy. Maybe it was the dimple in his right cheek when he smiled, or the way he’d made her forget all the stress in her life as they walked together through Central Park, something few men had even attempted. For Josh, it seemed to come naturally. “Spanish, huh?”

  “I teach at Columbia.”

  She arched an eyebrow. Cute and smart too. “Forgive me for saying so, but you don’t look like a Spanish teacher.”

  “As in I’m not Hispanic? Yeah, I get a lot of raised eyebrows when I mention my profession.” There was that charming smile again. “I fell in love with a foreign exchange student in high school, and she introduced me to her culture. I’ve been spending my summers in Spain ever since.”

  “Did you marry her?” she asked, her gaze darting to his ring finger. Bare.

  “Not quite.” His smile faded.

  She didn’t push the subject. They’d been walking together for close to an hour. Josh seemed a bit uptight at first, but he had a sense of humor behind the solemn exterior. She didn’t often get the chance to stroll through Central Park like a regular New Yorker, making conversation that had nothing to do with press junkets, record sales, or live performances. Today of all days, she was really enjoying not being herself for a little while.

  The problem was, there was no good way to introduce herself at this point. Josh was unlikely to appreciate being a pawn in her escape from reality. Her best option was to circle back toward her building, say a quick goodbye, and head for home before he was any the wiser about her identity. If she could avoid the paparazzi that long.

  As her phone buzzed in her pocket, she realized her scheduled post about the mystery prize had just gone live. Soon, the park would be crawling with fans, on top of the paparazzi presence. Shit.

  “Do you live here in the city?” she asked Josh, increasing her stride.

  “I’ve got an apartment over on Ninety-Sixth. You?”

  “I only live here part-time, but I think New York will always feel like home.”

  They passed Belvedere Castle, and Kate guided them onto the path toward home. Another ten minutes, and she’d be in the clear.

  Josh nodded. “I know the feeling. My family lived here until I was ten before we moved to Massachusetts. I loved it there. I even became a Red Sox fan, but I couldn’t wait to move back to New York after college.”

  Kate threw her head back and laughed. “A Red Sox fan in New York City? That’s dangerous.”

  “No kidding.” He unzipped the side pocket of his briefcase to show her the Red Sox cap tucked inside.

  Her jaw dropped. “You wear that? Here, in Yankees territory?”

  “Sure do. It just doesn’t go with my work clothes.”

  “Wow, you must get tons of rude comments about it, don’t you?”

  He shrugged. “I do, but who cares? I don’t know them, and they’re the ones being rude.”

  If only she could shrug off every rude and unfair thing said about her that way. It was a heady thought. “Well, I’m from Connecticut originally. Yankees fan, sorry.”

  Josh gestured to the sky as if she had cursed against his God.

  She laughed. “I pulled the whole Madonna ‘drop me in the center of everything’ bit when I got here.”

  He gave her a blank stare. Wow, he really knew nothing about celebrity, a trait she was beginning to find irrationally appealing.

  She gestured around them. “I showed up here when I was seventeen with nothing but a backpack and a handful of change in my pocket. Big city, big dreams.”

  “What did you dream of being?” His eyes were earnest.

  She paused, as her afternoon escape collided with reality.

  “Oh, I—” Her cell phone rang, saving her from immediate answer. “Sorry.”

  Josh nodded in understanding.

  She pulled the phone from her pocket. It was Jennifer MacDonald, her personal assistant. “Hey, Jenn.”

  “Hi. I need you back ASAP,” Jenn said.

  “Really? Why?” Kate glanced at her watch. It was only a few minutes past two, and she wasn’t due back to prep for interviews until three.

  “Vero got an earlier flight, so I moved the In Touch interview back to give you time to meet with her and Harry first.”

  “Oh, okay.” Kate glanced around to get her bearings. “Can you send Anton to the corner of Seventy-Seventh for me?”

  “He’ll be there in five.”

  “Thanks.” She ended the call and turned to Josh.

  He stood watching her with narrowed eyes. “You never did tell me what you do for a living.”

  “Right. Actually—”

  A shrill scream cut her off. She whirled, smacking into Josh. His fingers closed over her elbow to steady her. Instead of fear, this time, warmth gathered on her skin beneath his fingers.

  “Oh my God. It is her!” someone yelled.

  “I told you it was. Katherine Hayes!”

  More screams ensued as a half-dozen teenage girls ran toward her. Ben and Jerry pinned their ears and flattened themselves against her legs.

  “Oh my God, can I have your autograph?”

  “Can I take a selfie with you?”

  Their questions overlapped as the girls clustered around her, squealing and vying for her attention. Several of them were busily typing on their cell phones, no doubt sharing photos on social media, spreading the word that they’d met Katherine Hayes in Central Park. All around her, girls leaned in, phones held high, snapping selfies.

  Kate signed scrap paper, cell phones, and even a hand. She gave hugs and cheerfully posed for photos while assuring them that yes, “Hold Me Close” was on the set list for her upcoming concert at Madison Square Garden, and no, the nude photos were not real.

  Behind the group of teenagers, her gaze settled on a little girl with blonde pigtails and a purple jacket, bouncing in light-up sneakers, the blue-wrapped package Kate had hidden earlier clutched in her hands.

  A wide grin covered Kate’s f
ace as she pushed her way over to the girl. “You found it!”

  The girl looked up with wide blue eyes and an even wider smile. “My mom and I were here in the park when we saw your post, and oh my gosh, this is way too cool!”

  Kate took the girl’s hands in her own. “You’re too sweet. What’s your name?”

  “Ava.”

  Her mother stood behind her, beaming with pride. “Ava listens to your music every day.”

  Ava’s eyes welled with tears. “I want to be just like you when I grow up.”

  “That’s an awfully nice thing to say,” Kate told her. “Will you be able to make it to the Today show tomorrow morning?”

  Ava nodded vigorously.

  Kate looked at the girl’s mother. “Those passes will let you bypass the crowds and stand right in front of the stage. I’ll be doing my sound check around six, then I’ll come back out at eight thirty for the live broadcast.”

  “This is so cool,” Ava whispered, clutching her mother’s hand.

  “Do you mind?” The girl’s mother held up her cell phone.

  “Not at all.” Kate wrapped an arm around Ava’s shoulders and leaned in with a smile while her mother took several photos. “So you want to be a singer when you grow up?”

  “Yeah, but my mom says I have to finish school first.”

  “That’s good advice. Always listen to your mom, okay? It was great meeting you, and I’ll be looking for you tomorrow at the Today show.” Kate pulled her in for a quick hug.

  Joyful tears streaked Ava’s cheeks as they parted.

  Her mother stepped closer. “Thank you for giving girls like Ava someone they can look up to. It’s nice to know you’re as genuine in person as you seem on TV.”

  Warmth welled in Kate’s heart, seeping into the place her own mother had left empty. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

  She squeezed Ava’s hand, then turned away. The noise level intensified, and the clicking of cell phones was drowned out by the snap and pop of professional cameras. The paparazzi had finally caught up with her. Photographers pushed through the crowd, snapping photos and shouting questions.

  Kate ignored them, continuing to sign autographs for the group of teenagers. She realized peripherally that Mick, her bodyguard, had joined the fray. If he was here, the car must have arrived, and thank God, because she was in way over her head at this point. Mick backed up the photographers and ushered the fans on their way, then planted a hand on her shoulder and hustled her down the path toward the exit.

  She brushed a strand of hair from her face as she hurried to match his long stride. Thank goodness he’d shown up when he had. She ventured into the park without her bodyguard more often than she should and usually got away with it.

  Not today.

  Josh was probably horrified. Speaking of Josh…oh, crap.

  Her heels dug into the pavement. She shook free of Mick’s grasp and turned around.

  Josh stood about twenty feet down the path, watching, stony-faced.

  She took a few steps toward him. Mick charged past her to back the paparazzi around the bend and out of sight.

  “Josh…” She pushed the sunglasses up on her head, abandoning the pretense of anonymity they’d afforded her earlier.

  Josh’s eyes narrowed, accusation in their hazel depths.

  She suppressed a sigh. So much for escaping reality for a little while. The last thing she needed right now was a humiliated Spanish teacher selling her bad manners to the gossip blogs. Not to mention, she felt genuinely terrible for deceiving him.

  Time for damage control. She flashed Josh her most dazzling smile and stuck out her hand. “Let’s try this again. I’m Katherine Hayes, but my friends call me Kate.”

  2

  Josh stared into Kate’s striking blue eyes as disappointment warred with desire in his gut. He knew that face, and not just because he’d spent the last hour and a half walking through Central Park with her. Now that he’d gotten a good look at her without her oversized sunglasses, he knew her. He’d seen her on magazine covers and movie posters. Maybe even heard her songs on the radio.

  Katherine Hayes. Kate.

  Fucking hell. She was one of the biggest names in Hollywood.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the crowd of fans and paparazzi lingering nearby. The man holding them at bay was tall and stocky, dressed all in black. His dark hair was buzzed in a military-style cut, his eyes shielded behind mirrored shades. He might as well have had the word BODYGUARD emblazoned on the front of his T-shirt.

  Where’d her bodyguard been while she and Josh were strolling through the park together? Had he been shadowing them even then?

  Kate met his gaze, her blue eyes earnest. “Look, I’m really sorry about this. I have to go, but I’d like to make it up to you. Maybe we could grab dinner?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Josh…” Regret shone in her eyes.

  He shook his head. Why was he still standing here, talking to her? He couldn’t seem to make himself walk away.

  The crowd behind her had grown restless, surging steadily closer. She reached out and took his hand. “I’ll be in touch, okay?”

  Without waiting for an answer, she turned and walked briskly over to her bodyguard. Two photographers shoved past him, pressing glossy eight-by-ten photos into her hands.

  “Any comment?” one of them asked.

  “When were they taken?”

  Kate looked down at the photos and recoiled. “What the—”

  Josh stepped closer, wondering what was wrong. The whirring of camera shutters filled his ears. Kate’s posture had gone rigid. The photos slipped through her fingers and fluttered to the ground at her feet as the crowd around her gasped.

  Josh caught a glimpse of bare skin. Breasts. Kate’s face, smiling seductively.

  Nude photos.

  Shit. The mother and daughter she’d greeted earlier still stood nearby, and the mother shot Kate a look of absolute disgust as she dragged her daughter away. Kate opened her mouth, but no words came out.

  Her bodyguard took her arm and led her toward the street, muscling his way through the crowd as Ben and Jerry darted along ahead of them. She glanced over her shoulder, and her eyes locked on Josh’s. Emotion socked him in the gut hard, the desire to go after her, to shield her from those lenses and make sure she was okay. But that was ridiculous. He didn’t even know her. And she had a bodyguard to keep her safe.

  Kate stepped into a silver Mercedes waiting at the curb. The door slammed after her, and then she was gone.

  * * *

  Kate bottled up the hurt and embarrassment and shoved them down deep. Fake. The photos were fake, and her team was already working damage control. But the shock on little Ava’s face…the look of disgust her mother had given Kate after she’d seen the photos.

  There was no undoing that.

  An invisible weight seemed to press down on her as the Mercedes pulled to the curb in front of her building and she stepped outside. No paparazzi waited today, thankfully. They must have all followed her into the park. Head down, she gripped Ben’s and Jerry’s leashes and headed for the front door, Mick at her side.

  “Excuse me, Ms. Hayes?”

  Kate looked up to see a young woman standing to the side of the door. She had shoulder-length brown hair and a nervous smile. A fan.

  Kate returned her smile. “Hi, there.”

  “I’m, um, sorry to bother you, but…” She drifted off, glancing around nervously.

  “Don’t be. It’s always nice to meet a fan,” Kate told her. “But listen, I don’t actually do photos or autographs here at my home. It’s just a rule I keep, for privacy reasons. Come see me tomorrow morning on the Today show, and I’ll be happy to sign something for you, okay?”

  “Oh, I—”

  “It was nice meeting you!” Kate called over her shoulder as she hurried inside. She knew the fans meant well, but it creeped her out when they showed up outside her building. There were pretty much only two p
laces she wouldn’t sign autographs—her home and public restrooms. Something about this woman in particular didn’t sit right with her, although she couldn’t put her finger on the reason why. Maybe it was just the stress of the day getting to her.

  By the time she made it to her condo on the eighth floor, she felt like going a few rounds with a punching bag. She dropped her purse on the end table by the door and unclipped Ben and Jerry from their leashes. Several people she didn’t recognize buzzed around the living room, prepping for the upcoming afternoon of meetings.

  Harry Stevenson, her manager, stood by the far wall, silhouetted against the floor-to-ceiling windows, with Central Park and the New York City skyline as a backdrop. He crossed the room to her, looking like he had just stepped out of an Armani catalog in a crisp gray suit, candy-apple-red tie, and polished black loafers, his hair the color of wrought iron. “Quite a day you’ve had.”

  Kate walked past him to the windows. She gazed down at Central Park, green and vibrant and teeming with midday visitors. She thought of Josh, and warmth flooded her cheeks. “They’re fake, you know.”

  “I’m sorry that I have to ask, but are you absolutely certain?” he asked.

  “Positive. Who would do this? How?”

  Jenn, her assistant, walked into the living room from the study, carrying her iPad. “It happens, especially with someone like you who keeps such a squeaky-clean public image. You can do anything with Photoshop these days.”

  Kate shuddered.

  “You look young in the photos,” Harry said. “Did you ever pose for anything before you were famous, maybe for a boyfriend? I’ve see it happen too many times to count.”

  “I’ve never posed for anything like this. I’ve never even snapped a nude selfie.” Of that she was certain. But her face did look young in the photos. She’d worn her hair that way in high school. She pressed a hand to her forehead and forced herself not to think of the possible implications. “It’s my face in those photos, but that’s not my body.”