by K. M. Scott
I search for any information about Ian Anwell, and the first site that comes up is his website. I’ve visited it dozens of times and never read anything about his agent, but then again, I wasn’t looking either. Clicking on the About Ian page, I read about him growing up in upstate New York, attending Cornell University and majoring in history, and living in New York City. Nothing about who represents him.
Not knowing what to do next, I google Ian’s name along with the name Sheila and hope for something to come up in the search. It’s worth a try. Unfortunately, some woman named Sheila Josten seems to have a very unhealthy obsession with the man I love and every link on the first page of search results sends me to her blog where she spends a lot of time talking about Ian’s books.
I move to the next page and find more of his scary stalker and her love of all things Ian. Scrolling to the bottom and after reading what could best be described as a love letter from her to him, I finally find a link to an article from The Post mentioning Ian’s agent, Sheila Rogers.
After searching for another few minutes, I find a phone number for her, but before I can call her, my phone rings. Excited that Ian might have finally realized we could work this all out, I answer it but it’s Cilla, not Ian.
“Sweetie, I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. Sienna told me what happened. I really am sorry.”
“How could you do that to me, Cilla? You’re supposed to be my friend.”
“I didn’t think all of this would happen. I swear I didn’t.”
I try to control my anger at her, but just hearing her lame excuse makes it rush to the surface. “You didn’t think that website would run an article about me cheating on my boyfriend? Are you kidding?”
Cilla’s silent for a long moment, and then she quietly says, “No, that I knew. I just didn’t realize you cared so much about him. I had no idea you were dating Ian Anwell and no idea that they’d bother with him at all.”
“Bother with him? You told them I cheated on him, and then they dug up who he is under a pen name. Do you have any idea how much hurt you’ve caused?”
“Well, actually it was the other way around, but it doesn’t matter now. I’m so sorry, Kristina. I didn’t know they would do that. I figured they’d focus on you and then it would die down. You know, like it did with John.”
“Like it did with John? I was devastated when I found out he cheated on me with that waitress. You knew that! How many days did I stay locked away in Sienna’s house because I was so broken up over that? It didn’t just blow over, Cilla. Just because the tabloids stopped talking about it didn’t mean it ended for me.”
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I just needed money and I didn’t know what to do.”
“You could have asked me. I would’ve given you money. I would have given anything to make sure Ian didn’t find out. Now he won’t even talk to me and all because you wanted to find a way to get some quick money.”
“I’m sorry. I mean that.”
“You just don’t get it, Cilla. You saying you’re sorry doesn’t fix anything. Go tell someone who actually believes you.”
I can’t listen to her weak apologies anymore. Wishing I could slam the phone down and let her hear how furious I am with her, I click END and throw my phone onto my couch. Her I’m sorry’s mean nothing to me.
My chest hurts at the thought that Ian is feeling how I felt when I found out John cheated on me. I remember the betrayal hurting so badly that I wasn’t sure I could ever trust anyone again. I was ashamed I’d ever believed he could truly love me, and for a long time I didn’t think I’d ever be strong enough again to care for someone.
And then I met Ian and for as broken as I was, he showed me I could love again and believe not only in a man but in myself too. Now with my stupid mistake, everything we’d been through and everything we were lay in ruins.
How would I ever convince him that I love him and would do anything to have him back?
First, I had to convince his agent to tell me where he is. Dialing her number, I get past her assistant, but I can tell by Sheila’s tone that she’s not a fan of mine after what’s happened.
“What can I do for you, Miss Richards?”
“Sheila, I know you saw the whole mess on that website, but I need to find him. I’m worried he’s going to fall back into the drugs because of this. I don’t want that to happen, and I know you don’t want that either.”
“I can’t help you, Miss Richards. I told Ian to leave the city with you, but clearly he believes that rag like I do. He’ll return when all of this dies down. In the meantime, I’ll be working to do my best to save whatever’s left of his career your foolishness has decimated.”
“I swear I didn’t tell anyone anything about Ian writing under that pen name. I wouldn’t do that to him.”
Sheila snorts in disgust. “You’d just cheat on him while he’s in the fight of his life to get that heroin monkey off his back.”
“I’m not going to deny I made a mistake, but if you’ll just tell me where he is, I’ll show him that it meant nothing and hopefully stop him before he starts back up on the drugs. Please, I just want a chance to make things right.”
I hear nothing for a long time, like she’s considering what I said, but her tone remains icy when she finally says, “I can’t help you. I just hope Ian isn’t so devastated by what you’ve done that he falls back into his bad habits. He’s too talented an author to be sidelined by nonsense like this.”
I want to say to her that the love we share isn’t nonsense, but what’s the use? The only person I need to defend myself to is Ian, and she won’t help me find him. She hangs up on me before I can try to convince her again, so I call Joanne. If anyone can help, it’s her.
“Kristina, I know I told you more publicity would be a good idea, but I never thought you’d give me something this fantastic. I swear I’ve gotten more calls and emails about you today than I’ve gotten for the past nine months.”
“Joanne, I need your help finding Ian.”
“The boyfriend?”
“Yes. I need to find him. He’s left the city because of this mess, and I need to find him.”
“Have you tried his agent or publicist? They probably know where he’s gone off to.”
Sighing in frustration, I explain who his agent is and how she refuses to tell me where he is. I know Joanne well enough to know she’ll see this as a challenge, so I exaggerate how Sheila refused to help me and hope my publicist will be able to drag the information out of her.
“Give me a few minutes. I’ll find out where your Ian Anwell has run off to. Just promise me if this turns out all happily ever after that you’ll be sure to let me coordinate the PR campaign.”
“Fine. Just help me find out where he is and I’ll promise you anything.”
I hang up with her and collapse onto the couch where he and I sat that first night. All I can hope is that Joanne is able to get through to Sheila. Not exactly the most subtle person, I can’t imagine how she’ll do it.
All I know is if anyone can, Joanne can.
So much has happened since that night Ian and I met and came back here so he could sign my copy of Caligula’s Dream. How infatuated I’d been when my manager contacted me to ask if I’d like to meet Ian. To have a New York Times bestseller and one of my favorite authors want to meet me seemed too incredible for words, but he’d assured me the offer was a real one. As I sat there in that booth at Jax’s waiting for him to arrive, I hoped he’d see me as intelligent and accomplished like he is. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined we’d begin a love affair that would change our lives forever.
Now I’d lost him because of my stupid mistake, and I planned to do whatever I needed to bring him back. If Joanne could find out where he went, I’d brave hell, high water, or whatever obstacle the world threw in front of me to get to him.
As I silently promise Ian I’ll do everything in my power to get him back, my phone rings. Lunging for it, I grab it from the other end of
the couch and see it’s Joanne calling back.
“Did you find out where he is?” I blurt out without even saying hello.
“I did. That agent of his wanted to guard the secret like it was gold in Fort Knox, but I can be pretty persuasive when I want to be. You can thank me later. For now, you need to find a way upstate. That’s where your boyfriend is hiding out.”
“Upstate? Where?” He’d never talked about anywhere upstate, other than where he’d grown up, but none of family still lived there, so I can’t imagine where he’s gone.
“He’s at a cabin he owns in Hunter about two and a half hours north of the city. How are you going to get up there?”
“I don’t know, but I have to get there. Text me the address. I have to find a way to get upstate. And Joanne, thanks. I owe you big.”
“Damn right you do. I’ll send that over right now. Be careful driving up there, Kristina. It’s the middle of winter and they get a lot more snow than we do down here.”
“I promise I will, but don’t worry about me. I’m a Midwest girl born and bred. I learned how to drive in the snow, unlike you city folk. I’ll be fine.”
I hang up with Joanne feeling better than I have since I woke up next to Ian this morning. Now all I need to do is find a car, and I know just the person to help me.
Quickly I press four on my speed dial. “Sienna, it’s Kristina. I need you to let me use your car.”
“The Benz?” she asks, not missing a beat. Only Sienna could get a call from someone asking to use her car and not ask why in return.
“No, the Range Rover. I might run into some snow, and I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
“Okay, but can I ask where you’re going? After the day you’ve had, I’m worried about you and you asking to take my car makes me wonder what you’re up to.”
“I found out where Ian is. He’s at a cabin he owns upstate, so I’m going up there and I’m not coming back until I’ve convinced him to forgive me.”
Sienna chuckles. “You must be in love, Kristina. I’ve never heard you so intent and confident.”
“I am and I’m not going to let him go without a fight.”
“That’s my girl! Okay, the Range Rover is yours for as long as you need it. Do you need anything else?”
Packing my suitcase, I throw some clothes in and say, “Nope. I have everything I need now that you’re letting me borrow your car. I won’t forget this, Sienna.”
“It’s okay. I’m happy to help since I feel partly to blame for everything that happened. Cilla told me she called you to apologize but you weren’t willing to let her off the hook. I don’t blame you.”
“She ruins my life and now she wants me to be satisfied with her apology because she didn’t think it would be that bad. I can’t forgive her for telling that website what I did not because it hurt me but because of what Ian’s going through.”
“I wouldn’t forgive her if she did it to me, so you won’t hear me telling you to kiss and make up.”
I zip my suitcase shut. “She has her money they paid her for the story. That’s all she cared about.”
“Well, you’re going to find Ian and convince him to forgive you, so don’t even think about her. When everyone finds out it was her who betrayed you, she won’t have a friend in the world. That money better be enough.”
I prop my suitcase up against the wall at my front door. “I’m done packing, so I’ll be at your place in a little while. Thanks again, Sienna. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“It’s no biggie. I’m an incurable romantic. This is just the kind of thing I like to be involved in. I love the idea of you driving up there to win the man you love back. It’s like one of your movies.”
“Leave it to you to think that,” I say with a giggle. “I just hope it works out like that and he lets me in. I’m worried he won’t even talk to me after what’s happened and I’ll be stuck outside in the snow and the cold talking through a closed door trying to convince him to forgive me.”
“No way. This has all the hallmarks of a great love story, Kristina. Now go get your man! And I’ll be expecting details when all this dies down since you know you can trust me.”
“Got it! Thanks again, Sienna. See you in a few.”
I pick up Sienna’s Range Rover at her building and after she wishes me luck, I’m on my way. I have a little over two hours to think of what I want to say to Ian to convince him that I love him and he loves me enough to forgive me.
As I drive north out of the city, I feel like I’m leaving all the madness of this day behind me. The bare trees along the sides of the highway are strangely beautiful and calming in their starkness, and the lightly falling snow makes me think of a snow globe my grandmother gave me when she visited Sea World once when I was a child.
By the time I’m an hour into the drive, the snow begins to fall much harder and faster, covering the roadway. I’m not worried, though. I’d drive through a blizzard for the chance to prove to Ian that I love him and what we have deserves a second chance.
I just hope he feels the same way.
CHAPTER TWO
Ian
The cabin I bought years ago before I even had my first book published gives me a place to hide out while I lick my romantic wounds. I toss my bag onto the bed in the master bedroom and head out to the living room to start a fire. Thankfully, I made the decision to hire a caretaker who’s been more than diligent in his job and left me enough firewood for at least a week.
Not that I want to spend much more time than that out here in this winter wonderland. As I sit back and enjoy the fire I’ve created, I look out the window and see the snow falling again to add to the six or seven inches already on the ground. It would be just my luck to have a blizzard roll in and leave me stranded here in the middle of nowhere.
Or maybe that would be a good thing. Stuck in this place with sketchy internet, at least I wouldn’t be able to keep up with the fallout from the All The Dirt article. I know I shouldn’t care about what happens to Kristina, but even now after all that’s happened, I still love her and wish she was next to me here in front of this roaring fire.
I’ve left her all alone to deal with the problem. Not exactly the gentlemanly thing to do. As the thought of her being stalked and besieged by those fucking reporters passes through my mind, I feel bad for a moment.
Until I remember she did this to herself.
And to me. Then all I can think is, “Fuck her.”
One minute I miss her more than I can bear, and the next I hate her for betraying me. I want to forgive her for sleeping with that guy on set. Maybe I can. We’ve both done horrible things to one another, and I haven’t forgotten that I slept with another woman. I doubt this Gavin guy meant any more to her than the woman I picked up at the bar that night as I tried to do anything to get Kristina off my mind.
It’s not the fucking I can’t get past. It’s the fact that she betrayed me by telling the world I’m T. Anderson. That I can’t forgive because it proves I can’t trust her with something far more important than sex.
It shows I can’t trust her with who I truly am.
God, if I ever needed the feeling of junk coursing through me, it’s now. There’s a difference between thinking you need it and truly wanting it, though. I could fall back into that life and lose myself again, but that’s not what I want anymore. I may feel worse than I thought possible without Kristina, but I don’t want heroin.
I can’t say the same about scotch, however. Not that drinking myself into oblivion would be frowned upon by Sheila and anyone else worried about me. Funny how being a raging alcoholic is perfectly fine, especially if you’re an author. As if doing my best Hemingway impression provides me with some ridiculous writer street cred.
What anyone thinks about me drinking to forget what Kristina did matters not one fuck to me, though. If the fine state of New York believes it all well and good to make alcohol legal, then I’m happy to be its biggest champion.
There will be no prohibition in this cabin. Teetotaling can go fuck itself. I intend on drinking as much as it takes for my mind to finally give up the memory of her betrayal so maybe I can begin living without her in my life. Scotch and I are old friends. I can count on it to do its best.
The rest will be up to me. That’s the tricky part because as I sit here now staring into the fire and wishing she was in my arms, I don’t want to forget her. Like some sad masochist, I want nothing more than to think about everything she means to me. I want to remember how she tasted and how her body felt next to mine.
I want to remember everything she made me feel for fear that when the memory finally leaves me for good, she’ll actually be gone.
Just like everything else I’ve been addicted to in my life, Kristina brings pain as much as she gives pleasure. And like those other addictions, just the thought of being with her makes me crave her all the more.
I savor the taste of the scotch as it lingers on my tongue before it slides down my throat on its way to polluting my bloodstream. Another three or four glasses and I ought to be blasted enough to at least black out.
The problem is between then and this moment, all my mind is filled with is her.
The center of me feels empty, like part of me is missing, taken away when I left. I breathe in and sense a hollowness inside me and wonder if I’ll always feel like this. Never before has the loss of someone from my life made me feel like they’d taken part of me with them.
I need more alcohol. All this fucking introspection can’t be any good for me. Closing my eyes, I take another swig and wish for that moment when I black out to come soon.
Unfortunately, my mind wants to flourish on the scotch tonight. I’ve been betrayed once again by something so dear to me.
Fuck.
Trying to think of something other than the shitstorm my life has turned into, I fail miserably as my mind returns to one idea over and over. Kristina. Jesus Christ, am I ever going to be able to forget her?
I think about the night she cuddled next to me as I read her what I’d written in Silk earlier that day. Her blue eyes filled with awe at the story I told of us, she squeezed my arm whenever I read a part she really liked. The woman who’d begun as just an actress on my television screen who enthralled me listened to my words as if they meant the world to her. I’d never felt more accomplished than I had that night when she smiled up at me as I read her our story.
