Second Chance

by Willow Winters

  “We have to talk,” Mark says, shutting the door and I take the moment to release a breath I didn’t know I was holding and toss the article onto the desk.

  “Have a seat,” Mark says and it catches me off guard. That sickness comes back to me as I pull out the chair from the vanity and he takes a seat opposite, dragging the chair for the desk over to me and quickly sitting down.

  With his elbows on his knees and his fingers laced together, his thumbs tap against one another as he talks. It’s a nervous habit I’ve noticed he has.

  “So, Harlow May,” he says, keeping his eyes on me and then swallowing.

  “Just spit it out, Mark,” I tell him as I sit back casually, ignoring how my heart’s rhythm is fucked and every muscle in me wants to move. I stay perfectly still, expressionless. Giving him nothing and waiting for him to show his cards.

  He can’t know the truth. No one else knows.

  Unless she told someone and that’s why she’s gone. I choke on the thought, unable to breathe or move as my blood runs cold. She wouldn’t do that. I know my Hally; she wouldn’t. She can’t. It would ruin us both.

  “So, you’re seeing her now?” he asks me and I hold his gaze, willing my body to do something. Letting myself entertain the idea that this line of questioning must mean she hasn’t told a soul.

  I scratch a nonexistent itch at my jaw, stalling for time and debating on an answer. “We’re potentially rekindling an old relationship.” I keep it vague. I trust Mark, I do. But only so much.

  “This relationship is causing a lot of questions,” Mark says and then visibly swallows. He’s antsy, fidgety.

  “Like what?” I ask him without bothering to hide the irritation in my tone.

  “Like why is she scared to talk about it?” he says low, his eyes darting between the floor beneath his feet and then back up to me.

  I don’t answer him for a long moment and the tense air becomes suffocating. “It was one interview,” I tell him, like it’s annoying. Like there’s no truth to the perception that she’s afraid.

  “I didn’t do anything to her,” I add and then look away, toward the door wanting to escape. It’s a lie. I didn’t help her; I left her, I ruined the beautiful spirit she had.

  I knew better than to be with her back then, but it’s different now. Isn’t it?

  “I wasn’t implying anything, Nate,” Mark says, raising both of his hands and with a look in his eyes that begs me to believe him. “It just looks bad.”

  “What about now?” I raise my voice in frustration, shifting in my seat. “It’s obvious that things are good between us. We’re fine,” I tell him.

  “It’s uncomfortable because you’re under scrutiny now, which is never a good thing unless you have a plan.”

  “What’s that mean?” I ask, hating how he’s pussyfooting around. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

  Every second that passes makes my body hotter, my muscles wind tighter. It feels like they’re trying to take her away from me. I won’t let it happen. Not again.

  “It may seem like the relationship is forced in some ways. Like you have something on her and you’re using that to your advantage.”

  “Shut your fucking mouth,” I spit at him, quickly standing from my seat and sending the chair backward, slamming into the vanity. And for the first time since I’ve met Mark, he’s quiet as he stares back at me.

  “That’s what people are saying?” I practically yell at him, pacing in a small area of the room. “I would never use her.”

  I start to defend us. I want to tell him that I love her and that she loves me. That she’s with me because she loves me, which is more than any other person has ever shown me in my entire life. She’s the only one.

  “It’s just the worst possible scenario. That you got her the part for …” Mark doesn’t finish.

  “It’s not true.”

  “No one’s saying it is, and it’s important for you to believe me when I say that I believe you.” He holds my gaze, waiting for something from me, but my head is spinning, my hands are clenched and I feel like a caged animal.

  I know better than to let my anger get the best of me, but I need her and I don’t have a damn clue where she is.

  “Why? Why would anyone even think that?” I ask him although I didn’t mean to say the words out loud.

  “The interview-”

  “It was only one-” I interrupt but he’s quick to interrupt me right back, not letting me stop him from telling me the truth.

  “And moments on the set. When the scenes are done and she looks less than comfortable.” He clears his throat and doesn’t ask me for an explanation.

  I don’t have one that I can give him either.

  It’s hard hiding a secret that’s damning. It’s even harder having a reminder. I know she thinks about it. I do too.

  “What can we do?” I finally ask him. This mess needs to be cleaned up, fast and preferably via a new story in the papers.

  “No one’s running with that idea yet, they’re all waiting for ammunition,” he tells me and I nod my head.

  “She won’t give them any,” I tell him as if it’s a promise I can make.

  “We have a meeting.”

  “With who?” I ask defensively, ready to turn down whatever reporter has questions. I’ll tell them what Mark says they need to hear, but I won’t allow questions. They need to stay out of our business. And Hally needs coaching before she puts herself in that line of gunfire again.

  “With Harlow and her agent,” Mark answers, rising from his seat. “I think it’s in your best interest,” he adds and motions toward the door.

  Chapter 16

  Harlow

  * * *

  “Do you think I’m going to be fired?” I ask Lydia as I take in a deep breath and try to keep myself from getting sick. I’ve barely seen her this last week. Moving out of her dressing room and into mine changed our dynamic … as did me getting the lead.

  “Because you fucked your ex?” Lydia asks, cocking a brow like I’m ridiculous. Her dressing room is completely different from when I last saw it. I think she’s spent more time shopping than she has on the set. Which makes sense since her scenes are finished and she doesn’t have anything else to do.

  She moves a bag from Neiman Marcus off the bed and sets it down on the floor, rummaging through it. “Sweetheart, if they fired everyone who slept together, there would be no one left to cast,” she says jokingly and then looks up at me. “You’re fine,” she reassures me when she takes in my still-worried expression.

  “It’s a PR meeting, love. Everyone has them. You’re going to be fine,” she tells me again as she stands up with a small box in her hand. “I got you something,” she says sweetly, barely containing a smile and holding out her hand.

  “It’s for you, take it,” she says, shaking the small box.

  “You really didn’t have to do that,” I tell her as the box falls into my palm. It’s heavier than I thought it would be from the size of it. It’s only a few inches wide and tall.

  “Yes I did, crazy pants!” Lydia says and pulls her long hair up into a ponytail, but then lets it fall. “You got the freaking lead, so I should be throwing you a parade.”

  I let out a huff of a laugh and slowly unwrap the thick, pearly white wrapping. The box under the paper is simple. Nothing fancy, and it opens easily.

  “It’s nothing big really,” Lydia says as I pull whatever it is out of the box. Her fingers fidget around the hem of her dress. “Just a trinket.”

  I flinch as a piece of it seems to pop off, and then stare at a heavy painted petal in my hand. It’s a pale pink with gold around its edges and a stripe of white that fades in the center.

  “Don’t worry, they’re magnetic,” Lydia says quickly and takes the box from me, pouring it out and letting an owl-shaped bauble sit in my lap. It’s colorful, decorated in shades of blue and gray with bright blue eyes.

  “He has your eyes, huh?” she says and it makes me laug
h. I answer her, “I guess so.”

  She picks up the owl and slips the petal back into place, blending it into the sculpture.

  “Oh,” I gasp and then realize that’s what the owl is made up of, beautiful petals and flowers. Each edge gilded with gold and fitting perfectly next to each other. “It’s beautiful,” I whisper, our fingers brushing as she hands it back to me.

  “It was in Cosmo’s unexpected gift ideas feature this month and the second I saw it, I thought of you.”

  “Because of the blue eyes?” I ask her jokingly.

  “Because when it’s not together, it looks like scattered petals that have fallen apart, but really when it’s all put together, it’s so beautiful and something you wouldn’t have imagined.”

  Her answer stuns me, making all of my emotions come back tenfold. I am in love with this owl. Everything about it. At the same time, I wish I had something to give her in return.

  “Thank you,” I tell her and wrap my arms around her even though I’m still sitting down.

  Lydia shrugs, straightening herself and downplaying how sweet her gesture is. “My credit card was burning a hole in my pocket,” she says and winks.

  “I owe you big time,” I answer her, gathering the pieces and putting them back in the box.

  “Remember me when you’re famous, will ya?” she asks me and it makes me laugh. A real laugh that shakes my shoulders.

  “It’s good to see you smile again,” Lydia says softly and her expression changes, with nothing but sincerity on her face.

  “You love him?” she asks me gently at the same time her phone goes off. An annoyed look replaces the soft smile as she silences it. “I was worried at first,” she tells me, slipping the phone into her pocket and then looking back at me. “But now I get it.”

  I don’t answer her, not trusting that I can even form a coherent sentence. It’s amazing what just one person whose understanding and support you have feels like. How much weight is lifted.

  “I have to go, but I don’t want to leave you,” she says with a guilty tone in her voice.

  “I’ll be fine,” I tell her more to ease her worry than to be truthful.

  She’s the one, this time, to give me a death grip hug.

  When she releases me, she whispers, “Go, get out of here and see what the hell they want you to do.”

  “Maybe it’s a shampoo commercial,” she adds with a smirk on her lips.

  I playfully smack her arm. “Shut up,” I say jokingly and shake my head.

  I know I’m already late and an emotional wreck, but at least I’m a little more lighthearted.

  “I’ll see you when I’m done.”

  “I have to check out and I don’t think my card will be active,” she tells me, the humor and playfulness gone. “I won’t go far and the minute you need me, call and I’m here.”

  I nod my head, hating that she’s leaving and feeling more and more alone.

  “Got it,” I tell her and give her one more hug. “Thank you for everything,” I say, squeezing her tight.

  “Just remember,” she says before she leaves, “Everything happens for a reason.”

  Chapter 17

  Nathan

  * * *

  St. Gerard’s corporate rooms are exquisite; it’s obvious they spared no expense. From the beveled glass, mirrored pendant chandelier in the center of the room, to the coffered ceiling with disguised recess lights, everything reeks of wealth. The combination of the lighting creates reflections across the slick, dark mahogany table that takes up the entirety of the expansive room.

  It’s gorgeous and meant to aid in getting deals done.

  But with only four people in the sweeping space, it feels cold. Especially so as I stare across the dark table at Hally, who’s struggling to look me in the eye.

  I crack my knuckles one at a time, listening to Nancy talk as she sifts through a stack of printed papers in front of her. Each an article or mention in a gossip column. Mixed in are photos of us that were leaked online from back in high school. Those are the only ones I even bother to look at.

  “As I discussed with my client, her interview is causing a little speculation,” Nancy’s voice changes, strengthening and ringing clear in the large room. My eyes shift from Hally’s to hers.

  I shrug my right shoulder and rest my forearm on the table. “I’m sure it’ll blow over.”

  I give my response at the same time Hally says, “I’m sorry.” Her eyes dart everywhere like she’s in trouble. Her hands are beneath the table, and I can only imagine she’s toying with the hem of the shirt she’s wearing. It’s black with a deep V but more importantly, it’s almost sheer and in this lighting, I can make out the lace of her bra.

  I imagine it was for the set because it’s not a shirt I could see Hally wearing. But then again, I haven’t seen Hally in her own clothes, or have I?

  The inner thought makes my brow furrow and right then she glances at me.

  “This is on the cusp of very good or very bad,” Nancy says but I refuse to break Hally’s gaze. She’s scared and that fact is terrifying me.

  All she has to do is forget. For the love of God, if she could just forget what happened, everything would be perfect.

  “I don’t want to hurt his career,” Hally says hesitantly, breaking eye contact with me, her voice lowering toward the end.

  “Relax,” I tell her at the same time that Mark starts to talk. He stops when he hears me, waiting to see if I have more, but I don’t. I just listen to what they say and abide by it.

  I motion for him to go on and he says, “I know you’re new to this Miss May, but everything’s going to be just fine. We’re here for precautionary reasons.”

  Nancy nods her head and adds, “We’re paid to prevent the bad times from ever happening.”

  “What’s the story between you two? You need to tell us if anything could be revealed that would cause … issues,” she says, making small circles with her hand in the air.

  Hally’s quiet, so I answer for her.

  “We had a rough breakup.” That’s as simple as it gets.

  The room is quiet for a second too long, the tension growing.

  “So, it was rough seeing him again,” Mark prompts Hally, but then Nancy cuts him off.

  “You could quit right now on this set and there’s so much buzz around this that I could get you another gig like that,” Nancy says to Hally and snaps her fingers, although I’m sure it’s solely for my benefit, since it’s obvious the two of them have already talked.

  “How are we spinning this?” Mark asks and it pisses me off. They’re blowing everything out of proportion.

  “It was just one shaky interview,” I say and I don’t hide the irritation in my voice.

  Nancy tosses a stack of pictures down in front of me, several taken throughout the last two weeks. She straightens one in front of me so I can see it clearly. It’s at eye level, obviously taken with a cell phone.

  “And it’s just a picture, right?” she asks rhetorically as I take in a long breath. My fingers itch to touch the edge of the picture. Hally’s eyes stare at my back in the photo, every emotion on her face visible. I scan the rest of the photo, but it wasn’t taken on set. That’s more than obvious and my blood freezes as the easiness of my posture hardens.

  She’s terrified.

  “Pictures say a thousand words, and this one says that he broke your heart … for a reason,” Nancy says.

  “And that reason doesn’t matter,” Mark says and sits straighter in his seat. “Everyone loves a second chance.”

  Nancy’s smile turns coy and then she looks at Hally, who’s focusing on the picture that’s sitting in front of me.

  She’s been telling me she wants to talk. I know she has, and yet, I’ve put it off.

  Why can’t she just forget? Why can’t she pretend it didn’t happen?

  I nod my head at Mark’s suggestion, waiting for Hally’s reaction. She’s quiet and unresponsive.

  I sit up in
my seat as Mark and Nancy talk about how the two of us dating is the gossip that everyone will want. They go on about planning dates and discussing where exactly we should be seen. They’ll plan it all out and give us the script.

  We can handle that much. But the longer I sit here, willing Hally to look at me, the worse and worse the sickness in my stomach gets.

  “So, what happened in high school that made you break up?” Mark asks and the question rouses Hally, but she doesn’t answer. Instead, she looks back at him with something that shatters my heart. Guilt.

  I’m a dick for doing it, but I give her an out. I hand it over to her, ready to let her be free of all of this shit. “Why don’t I let Hally tell you?”

  Hally’s lips turn up into a small smile as she wipes tears from the corners of her eyes. Nancy pulls on the crook of her elbow and whispers in her ear, but Hally shakes her head. I watch it all like a bystander, as if I can’t help what’s about to happen.

  “Did you know Nathan’s the only person to ever call me Hally?” she says softly as Nancy lets go of her. She looks at her fingers as she wipes a bit of black from them, I’m guessing from her mascara.

  “I’ve noticed,” Nancy says, eyeing Hally and waiting for more.

  “I made him,” she says and then lets out a sad laugh. “I didn’t want him to call me the same name everyone else did.” She forces her tears back and takes in a steadying breath. “I knew there was something between us instantly.”

  “Love at first sight?” Nancy says as she jots something down on the back of one of the papers.

  “Some would call it that,” Hally says.

  “Would you?” Mark asks and Hally nods her head.

  My heart hammers in my chest, too hot and too full of raw emotion to settle into place.

  “But we were like oil and water; that’s the saying, right?” she asks and then looks up at me. “We picked fights for no reason, both of us hotheaded and unwilling to be wrong.”