by Hayes Grier
“I never meant to betray you or use you. I’m so, so sorry. I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry. One day, I hope you can find a way to trust me again. And if you can’t, at least maybe you can forgive me.”
Violet took a deep breath. “Hayes, what do you say?”
Violet couldn’t finish the story. She didn’t know the ending.
* * *
“Mia!” Violet called her cousin in to read the piece. She watched her, chewing her thumbnail anxiously. “Well?” she said when Mia spun around in the desk chair to face her.
Mia had tears in her eyes. “You outdid yourself, Violet. I am totally blown away. It’s so … so heartfelt. I guess the truth always is. It’s going to rock the fanfic world.”
“There’s only one reader I care about.”
“I know.” Mia touched her hand. “Are you going to post it?”
Violet nodded. Her hand trembling just slightly, she hit the POST button, then closed her eyes. More than anything in the world, she wanted this to work. She only had one more thing to do. She picked up her phone to send a text.
* * *
Coco’s phone buzzed. “’Scuse me a sec,” she told Hayes, checking the text.
They were sitting in a booth at the Coffee Break, sharing a chocolate chip scone, not really talking, just keeping each other company. Coco was treating Hayes—a thank-you for helping to get Barry, that cute production assistant, to notice her. But he wasn’t asking questions about the relationship, and Coco didn’t want to rub his nose in a happy romance. Clearly, Hayes wasn’t interested in talking about anything that had happened between him and Violet, either. So Coco, uncharacteristically, was silent.
Coco sighed, stirring her caramel coffee shake that didn’t need mixing. She’d just seen Violet’s text, explaining about her latest fan fiction and asking Coco to convince Hayes to read it. And she couldn’t keep quiet any longer. She’d seen the two together. Their chemistry was undeniable. They belonged together.
Hayes had to read the story, to hear Violet’s apology, and to understand her side.
“Hayes?”
“Yup?”
“Violet just—”
Abruptly, Hayes stood up, his chair tumbling back behind him. He pulled it up, fumbling a bit and turning red around the ears. “Don’t say her name, Coco. I don’t want to hear it.”
“But she just posted another story. This one isn’t really fiction. You need to read it.”
Hayes sat back heavily. “Not interested,” he said shortly. “This is my thank-you snack, right, Coco? And if you want me to hang around for it, we’d better change the subject. So,” he said, taking a deep breath, “are you taking Barry to the premiere tonight?”
* * *
“I tried,” Coco said an hour later, talking to Violet on the phone. “But he wouldn’t listen at all.”
Violet squeezed her eyes shut. She’d been pacing the bedroom, her cell phone held tightly in her hand, waiting to hear from Coco. And now, she wished Coco had never called.
“It’s okay,” she choked out, even though it wasn’t—not by a long shot. “I know you did your best.”
“It’s a lot for him to take in. I think he just wants space now. Maybe that will change.”
“Maybe,” Violet echoed, thinking she stood a better chance of winning an Academy Award for a script she hadn’t written. But why bring Coco down, too? She hung up, expecting the tears to flow more than ever. That had been her last chance. And it was a major fail. But she was all cried out. Her eyes were dry, and her heart was still broken.
* * *
Hours passed with Violet barely leaving her bedroom. The room had grown dark, but Violet hadn’t bothered turning on the light. She was holding a book, pretending to read, when Mia came in. Mia flipped the light switch.
Violet blinked in the sudden brightness.
“Hey! I appreciate you embracing the casual Venice vibe, but you can’t wear that to the premiere.”
Violet gazed down at her outfit, an old pair of sweats with a soft stretched-out T-shirt—comfort clothes. “I wasn’t planning to even wear this out of the house. I don’t think I’m going. Hayes doesn’t want to see me. He doesn’t even want to hear my name! I don’t want to upset him any more than I already have.”
Mia sat down on the edge of the bed. “You really should go, Violet. It’s your movie, too. You put so much work into it this summer. You deserve to be there just as much as anyone else. I think if you missed it, you’d always regret it.”
“What about Hayes?”
“These things are always jam-packed. And that mansion is huge. You can avoid him. It wouldn’t be that hard.”
Without waiting for a reply, Mia opened Violet’s closet door and went through dresses. She pushed hanger after hanger along the rack, rejecting each one. “Too young. Too old. Too creased.”
Abruptly, she stopped near the end. “Oh! Where’d you get this?”
Violet sat up. “Coco must have left it that time she came here with her team.”
The dress was lovely, bright yellow and strapless, not quite long enough to be a gown, with a bubble hem gathered at the bottom, and much shorter in the front than the back. Eye-catching, yet not overly dramatic.
Violet thought about The Midnight Hawk, all the scenes, all the actors, all the work. She didn’t want to wait and see the movie in any old theater. She wanted to see it with the cast and crew—right now.
* * *
“It was just amazing!” Violet stood next to Coco, gazing at the glittering crowd in the ballroom-like space, all chattering excitedly about the movie. “I swear, I knew what was going to happen, but I was still on the edge of my seat the whole time. You were awesome, Coco.”
Coco grinned. “I’m so happy with the way it turned out. You know, I think TJ was crying at the end!”
“That final scene was heartbreaking.” Violet had hated to think about going over those lines with Hayes, trying to help him and feeling so close. But she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the screen. “The way you walked away, keeping your back straight while you were falling apart, was absolutely on-target.”
Coco squeezed her hand. “I’m glad you came, Violet. And look around. It’s wall-to-wall people here. You don’t have to see anybody you don’t want to see.”
“Hi, Coco. Violet,” Tez said, walking over. Violet sucked in her breath.
“Can I talk to you?” he asked Violet.
Before Violet could open her mouth, Coco spoke quickly. “Sure. I see Barry over there. Catch you later, Violet.” Coco squeezed her hand one more time, then disappeared into the crowd.
“Well, you made it here,” Tez told Violet. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”
“It was a hard decision,” she acknowledged.
“It took courage. It’s good you’re here. You should be. You worked hard, and it’s time to celebrate.” He looked Violet steadily in the eye. “I’m glad I got to know you over the summer. I don’t think you ever intended to hurt Hayes.”
Violet breathed a sigh of relief.
“You were good for him, Violet. He never would have nailed that emotional ending if you weren’t helping him.”
“Thanks, Tez. I hope things work out with Mia.” Ever since Hayes had frozen her out, Mia hadn’t mentioned Tez at all. But Violet knew the two had been seeing each other. She gave Tez a hug. “Take care.”
“You, too, V.”
Violet smiled, glad that some peace had been made.
When Tez left, Violet stood alone, feeling awkward. She didn’t see anyone she knew. But she remembered Mia’s parting words: “When you don’t know what to do, head for the food.” The table was along the wall, not too far away. Violet took her time walking over.
She hadn’t gotten far when a hand reached out to stop her.
“Well, as I live and breathe, it’s Violet Reeves.”
“Lydia Jacobs.”
Violet had avoided Lydia’s calls and texts. She hadn’t known what to s
ay, or how she felt, or what should be done.
“You haven’t been in touch.” Lydia’s tone softened. “I don’t blame you. I’m sorry I told TJ you were the mystery writer. But he wanted to do a project based on the stories. And if I hadn’t told him, he would have moved on to something else.”
“But—”
Lydia held up her hand. “I know what you’re going to say. TJ is hard to work with. He’s difficult. All that is true. Yet he’s also the best young director in Hollywood. I didn’t want you to miss out on the opportunity to work with him at a higher level.”
“That’s not what I was going to say,” Violet interrupted. “I know TJ, his good points and bad. I understand your reasons, and at first I gave you a pass. But I wanted you to keep it quiet so I’d have time to talk to Hayes. You didn’t, and I hurt someone I care about. I wouldn’t have done any of this on purpose—knowingly cause someone pain just to get ahead. But I think you would.”
She looked Lydia square in the eye. “I don’t want to work with you. Our deal is over.”
Lydia’s mouth dropped open; the great and powerful Lydia Jacobs had just been fired.
Violet nodded once, then continued on to the food table. She felt strong; she felt good. She’d probably burned a major bridge; she couldn’t disregard the fact that Lydia was, in fact, a big Hollywood player. And now she’d surely refuse to work with Violet again. She could spread the word around town: Stay away from Violet Reeves. She’s bad news.
No matter what, though, it was the right thing to do.
Violet took a plate and looked over the table, trying to decide between the dishes, when a roar erupted in the room. She stood on her tiptoes, peering over heads. Then she gasped. Hayes had just stepped onto the stage. He adjusted the mic.
People clapped and cheered and whistled. Slowly, Violet turned away from the food, her stomach in knots. She’d lost her appetite, but she still gripped the plate tightly, glad to have something solid to hold.
Hayes looked so adorable, wearing that very same outfit they’d chosen together, this time with a classic fedora on his head and dark green sneakers. She hadn’t seen him in weeks. Somehow she expected him to look different. Older, maybe, or hardened. But he looked exactly the same: smiling, sweet, and cute.
“Settle down, everyone!” Hayes called out good-naturedly. Immediately, the crowd quieted. “I’d just like to say a few words, if you don’t mind.”
“We don’t mind!” a young production assistant called out, and a wave of laughter swept the room.
“Good,” Hayes continued. “So first I want to thank—”
“The Academy,” the same production assistant shouted. “For this very special award, my very first Oscar. You deserve it for this role, Hayes!”
Everyone murmured in agreement.
“Cut it out, Simon!” Hayes grinned. “I want to thank everyone involved in The Midnight Hawk.” He paused. “Even you, Simon!”
People hooted.
“Seriously, all the PAs, Jon the gaffer, the craft service people, with a special shout-out to Simone, who made sure we always had a supply of cupcakes.”
“Hear, hear,” someone shouted.
Violet had pressed closer to the stage for a better look. At the word cupcakes, though, she froze, a picture flashing in her mind of the two of them, laughing as they made cupcake sandwiches.
Hayes went on, thanking just about everyone in the cast and crew. How did he do it? Violet wondered. He remembered each and every person’s name. She held her breath each time he said a name, thinking now … now he’d mention her. He never did.
Hayes ended with TJ, saying, “And last, but certainly not least, a great big thank-you to our fearless director. Long may he reign! You all made my first movie the best it can be, and I couldn’t possibly be more appreciative.”
Another round of applause interrupted the speech. Hayes waited a moment.
“I’m going on tour tomorrow, and our work is done. But I’ll never forget a single moment of filming. I’ll always treasure the experience.”
People raised their arms over their heads to clap even louder.
Violet turned away, certain the speech was over. That was it. The last she’d see of Hayes Grier.
“But before I go,” Hayes added, his voice rising over the noise, “there’s something I have to straighten out.” He held a hand over his eyes to look out over the room. “Violet Reeves, can you join me onstage?”
PART FOUR
Girl Gets Boy?
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
WHAT? HAYES WANTED HER to join him onstage? Shocked beyond belief, Violet dropped her plate. It bounced on the carpet, and a waiter quickly scooped it up.
“Violet?” Hayes called again.
“She’s right over there!” Simon shouted, pointing.
Heads turned, and everyone stared at Violet, standing awkwardly, not even a plate to hold on to for security. The sea of people parted, and Violet had no choice but to walk unsteadily to the stage. Helping hands boosted her up. She stood next to Hayes, her heart beating wildly.
What would Hayes say next? That she was a traitor, a rat, the worst sort of hanger-on, out only for herself? She trembled and waited, steeling herself to hear the worst.
“As I said,” Hayes said, not looking at her but at the audience. “I know our work is done. But I couldn’t walk away without saying something about this girl right here.”
Violet swayed a bit, then steadied herself.
“She was the one who helped me run lines all during the shoot. And I need her help one last time.”
What was Hayes talking about? For the first time, Violet noticed he held two scripts. He handed one to her.
It was titled, Shooting Stars at Midnight, written by Hayes Grier.
Finally, Hayes looked at her, and he smiled. Violet’s heart melted. She flipped to the next page and scanned it quickly. The screenplay told their story, the story of Violet and Hayes.
It began with Hayes joking around with his buddies in the trailer, and Violet accidentally saying, “I love you.”
Now she had to say it again, as one of her lines. She managed but just barely, and the crowd cracked up.
The next scene was at the cupcake shop. Hayes had a few lines listing Violet’s favorite—and weird—cupcakes, which got increasingly stranger. The last one he said was mint-onion dip, mixed with pepper, topped with a dollop of wasabi sauce. “That was one hot cupcake,” he added.
The crowd groaned, and Violet tried to control her giggles.
They turned another page and reached the part where Hayes found out Violet had written the fan fiction: He hadn’t wanted to talk to her and didn’t answer her texts when she tried to apologize.
“Yeah,” Violet said, reading her line. “That was pretty rude.”
They looked at each other and laughed.
Hayes recited, “But I had to forgive you. Because ever since we shared those cupcakes, I knew you were the one.”
“You did?” Violet squeaked, going off-script. She lifted her eyes to meet his, her heart fluttering, and her knees weak.
Hayes motioned to her to keep reading. Violet turned the page. “To be continued…” she said out loud, “by Hayes Grier and Violet Reeves.”
Wait. What?
The crowd fell silent, looking up at the stage.
Violet leaned in to whisper in Hayes’s ear. “What happens next?”
Hayes shrugged in his usual cool-guy way, and Violet’s heart leaped. “We haven’t finished our story yet. You’re the writer, V. Can you help me with the ending?”
“So it’s okay? We’re okay?”
Hayes pulled her close. “What do you think?”
She smiled at him, a smile so full of love, she thought the people in the very back of the room could feel it, too. Sometimes life really could be like a boy-meets-girl movie, complete with happy ending.
Hayes smiled back. And then Violet didn’t notice anything else … not the cheers … not the people …
only Hayes … Hayes, Hayes, Hayes … as they kissed.
READ ON for
A BONUS Q&A
and MORE!
EXCLUSIVE FAN Q&A WITH HAYES
If you could be a cartoon character for a week, who would you be? —Jaden
No doubt, Superman. I’d love to fly.
Where do you see yourself in ten years? —Persja
Being in more films, producing series and films, being a part owner of an NFL team, and having my own clothing line.
What is the scariest thing you’ve ever done? —Sofia
Lean out of a helicopter that was 200 feet off the ground. It was thrilling!
If you could save one thing in a fire, what would it be? —Mia
Zan. My dog is my son.
Where is your favorite place to travel? —Kayla
Hawaii.
What’s your favorite gas station snack? —Madeleine
Boiled peanuts.
If you could give yourself some advice when you started all this, what would it be? —Shahirah
Be humble, work hard.
What is one thing that always reminds you of home? —Izabelle
When I go for a hike with Zan in the woods, it feels a bit like Carolina.
What are the three things you’re most thankful for in life? —Mirta
My family, Zan, and my amazing fans.
What’s your favorite thing about meeting fans and traveling around the world? —Jessica
Feeling the love from my fans and exploring places neither I nor my family ever thought we would see.
HAYES’S PERFECT DAY
My book takes place over twelve days and twelve nights. But what would I do if I could have one perfect day? Here’s my ideal day, from morning to night.
9 AM: I wake up and immediately down a fresh glass of OJ. There’s nothing like a good, strong dose of vitamin C to get you going in the morning. OJ gives me the energy I need to start my day.
