(Complete Rock Stars, Surf and Second Chances #1-5)

by Michelle Mankin

  “I miss that too.”

  We talked a little more about inconsequential stuff. Easier things. But not for very long. Max seemed distracted and distant.

  I told myself it was just the physical separation. But I worried that it was more.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  * * *

  “This is the third time you’ve puked on set.” Cedric gave me a concerned look as we walked along the beaten path back to our cabins together.

  “It’s cold. We’re filming in the snow. My feet are frozen. The campfire food’s barely warm and leaves much to be desired. It’s nothing more than that.”

  “I think it’s more.” His brow scrunched beneath his knit cap.

  “Spit it out.”

  In the months that Cedric and I had been together, we hadn’t kindled any romantic fires the way the pictures Max had seen apparently hinted. Cedric was too much like an annoying older brother. Even if Max wasn’t in the picture, and he was, though we were out of the frame and in a wobbly holding pattern until I returned to LA.

  “No bullshit, all right? Friend to friend?”

  “I guess.”

  “In love, I do this. Platonic love, of course.”

  “Okay.” My queasy stomach lurched.

  “Here.”

  He thrust his cell into my mittened hands. I glanced down at the photo on its screen and froze colder than the packed snow beneath my feet.

  Max and Lori, all dressed up. He was wearing a tux. She was in a ballgown. She looked elegant. He was as handsome as ever. They were holding hands, and appeared to be a couple.

  “Where? How?” I tried to process it. It was difficult to do with the ground seeming to tilt beneath my feet.

  “I’ve got a friend of a friend.”

  “But when?” I asked. There was no internet connectivity out here.

  “The Golden Globes.” He touched my arm. “There’s more. I wouldn’t show you, only you’re gonna find out soon since we’re done shooting on location. And I’m going to insist you get on the train tomorrow and see a doctor.”

  “You figured I’d see the pictures in town.”

  “Yeah. Better bad news from a friend than a stranger or a reporter, right?”

  I nodded, knowing Cedric’s recent breakup had come about very publicly. My chest tightening, I lowered my head again as he swiped through more photos on his phone.

  Not just Max and Lori. My stepfather was in one with them also.

  “So, they ran into each other at the Globes.” I made excuses.

  Cedric kept swiping and swiping, and I stumbled.

  “I’m going to need to sit down.”

  “Let’s get you in your cabin.” He hooked his arm in mine and helped me up onto the porch and then inside. I sank into the chair by the fireplace the staff had already lit.

  I glanced up at him with tears brimming in my eyes. “How long have you had those photos?”

  “A week.”

  “You wanted to finish shooting before you showed them to me.”

  “Yeah.” Looking sheepish, Cedric rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

  “Get out.”

  “Hollie, c’mon.”

  “Out. Out now.” My voice rose. “Don’t tell me you want to help me.” No one could help me. “Love is a lie. It’s all a lie.”

  I was alone. I would always be alone. Only I was a bigger fool than I could have ever imagined.

  • • •

  “Hols.” Fanny picked up on the first ring. “Where are you? You sound like you’re inside a tunnel. The connection’s terrible.”

  “Does a plane count?” I asked dully, staring out at the snowy tarmac. We were getting ready to pull away from the gate.

  “Are you still in Switzerland?”

  “Yes. But I’m getting ready to take off to . . . to come home.”

  Would the condo feel like home anymore, when all the memories I’d made with Max within it had been a lie?

  Speaking low, I said, “I don’t have much time. The flight attendant will be coming down the aisle any minute. But I wanted you to hear the news from me. I’m pregnant. Max is the father. Not Cedric. Not Zachary. Not any of my current or former costars. Max.”

  The doctor had assured me my medical information would remain confidential, but I didn’t know what the laws were over here, and I certainly didn’t feel like trusting anyone right now.

  “Oh my gosh! That’s wonderful. I’m at the Deck Bar. I just wished on the mermaid—”

  “Not so wonderful.” Tears choked me. “Max is the only man for me. The only man I’ve ever been with, but apparently he hasn’t been as discriminating.”

  “He’s fooling around on you?”

  “Yes.” Tears slid down my cheeks.

  “That doesn’t seem right.”

  It didn’t seem right to me either.

  A shadow fell over me. The flight attendant stopped in the aisle beside my seat.

  “I’ve got to go. I’ll text you when I land. And I’ll call you after I talk to him about the . . . situation. I’m going to need you.”

  “You have me. I’ll head up to LA as soon as I get your text.”

  Ending the call, I leaned my seat back as soon as we were allowed to. As the hours passed, I dozed fretfully. Thinking of confronting Max in person and telling him I was carrying his child weren’t thoughts that were conducive to napping. But it had to be done. There was no way I would tell him he was a father by a text or an email.

  I turned my head to the window, watching the wispy clouds become thicker ones. My throat thickened too, emotion tightening it as I recalled the doctor’s reassurances.

  Nineteen years old is a good age to have a baby.

  I wasn’t so sure. All I knew was that my life would never be the same. Last year, I’d celebrated my birthday at the beach with a man I thought cared for me. This year, I’d celebrated it on location in Switzerland with a cast and crew, not even knowing that I was pregnant.

  I placed my hand on my abdomen. Me. A mother.

  A sob bubbled up.

  What did I know about a baby or raising a child except what I’d learned from my own mother? And oh, yay. Guess what? Surprise for me. The pattern of her past had repeated itself in mine.

  Eerie, the similarity.

  I’d worried about emulating my stepfather, but in reality, I was becoming my mom.

  Pregnant, soon to be alone, a single mother, the father a memory I could explain or not explain. Was infidelity the reason my mother had never told Fanny or me anything about our father? I could empathize with her choice. Once Max confessed, I wouldn’t want him in my life anymore. It would be too painful.

  Maybe if I was as unlucky as she’d been, I could find a man to marry who could grow to hate me.

  As I gritted my teeth on that thought, the plane speakers crackled on to announce our landing.

  As a celebrity VIP, I deplaned before the other passengers, went through customs alone, and donned sunglasses and a hat afterward. Glancing in a mirror on the way out, I thought I was pretty incognito, but there were several paparazzi who snapped photos when I reached the baggage area, and Olivia certainly recognized me.

  “Glad to have you back.” Catching me by surprise, she hugged me. “Congratulations on the pregnancy,” she whispered into my ear.

  “Thank you,” I murmured. Tears pricked my eyes. Nausea and crying at the slightest things? I should have recognized the symptoms earlier.

  “Do you want me to tell you what I’ve learned now or when we’re inside the car?”

  “If you’re asking me, it must be upsetting. In the car.”

  She nodded, flagged down a porter, and we moved outside together. Once we were situated in the back seat of the car, she gathered my hands in hers. My stomach swirling with unease, I gulped back bile.

  “I’m not as certain as you are that he’s having a full-on affair with Lori. The current photos certainly make it seem like they’re together, and the scene you happened upo
n at her house is an unsettling one, for sure. But all that can be explained away, as can the pictures with them and Samuel, since she’s reportedly considering making a movie with him. Since no one was willing to comment one way or the other when I inquired discreetly, I took the liberty of hiring an investigator to look into it.”

  “Did they find out anything?” I asked and held my breath.

  “Nothing about an affair. Something worse, I’m afraid.” Her brow creased. “Maximillian received a large sum of money into his bank account right before he started working for you.”

  “From who?” I whispered.

  “From Samuel.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “It can’t be.”

  I closed my eyes, but in my heart I knew something had always been wrong. That Max had held back something. I’d given him a pass, way back at the beginning of us. Then there were all the things he knew about Samuel, the familiarity between the two of them, the hints, the coincidences that hadn’t lined up before. In retrospect, they all made sense now.

  Tears streamed from my eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Hollie. But we have to assume he’s been feeding information to Samuel from the beginning.” Olivia’s hands tightened over mine. “I know you want to talk to Maximillian in person, that you want to believe there’s some kind of explanation for what he did, but I really think it would be best to let the lawyers handle it from here on out.”

  • • •

  “I don’t like this,” Olivia said when the sedan rolled to a stop at the boardwalk.

  “I’ve got to do it. I need to do it for me.”

  And I had to tell Max in person about the pregnancy. That had nothing to do with my stepfather or anyone else. It was between Max and me.

  “I need to look him in the eyes.”

  I was done hiding from the truth. Done avoiding questions that I should have asked all along. I was done. Just done.

  Olivia gave me a worried look. “Then let me go with you.”

  “No.” I unbuckled my seat belt. “It won’t take long. I appreciate you waiting for me here.”

  I got out, closed the door, and glanced around, searching for Max’s golden hair in the crowd, hating the hopeful pang that arose in my heart. Even knowing all I knew, I continued to long for his affection.

  It had seemed so real.

  Joggers. Inline skaters. Skateboarders. Sightseers. They moved along the sidewalk, following the designated directional markers.

  My heart in my throat, I glanced both ways for him, but my queasiness made me feel unsteady. Spying a park bench, I moved toward it.

  More minutes passed without Max appearing. The minutes felt like hours.

  He knew I knew; I’d told him. I had suggested we meet at the condo. But it was his day for swimming, and he’d proposed we talk at the beach instead.

  I glanced down and read through our texts again to see if I had misread something.

  HOLLIE: I’ve seen the photos with you and Lori. Olivia hired an investigator. I know about the money you took from Samuel. I’m back in LA. I want to end this charade between us face-to-face civilly. Can we meet at the condo at 3:30?

  MAX: Meet me in Santa Monica. The bend in the sidewalk between the public showers and the beach café with the orange umbrellas.

  No denial. Chillingly direct.

  Nausea roiling inside me, I lifted my head as someone called my name.

  “Yes?” I lowered my sunglasses to view the young boy who had rollerbladed to a stop in front of me.

  He smiled. “You’re prettier in person than you are in the movies.”

  “Thank you.” If I weren’t so sad, I would have returned his sweet smile. “Did you want an autograph?”

  “No. Max was down by the beach earlier. He swims at the same place every week. We talk sometimes. Today, he asked me to come find you and give you this.”

  He withdrew an envelope from his shorts pocket and offered it to me.

  “Thanks.” I recognized Max’s handwriting. As I tore the envelope open, my hands shook.

  Dearest Hollie,

  I tried to wait where you are likely sitting now. If you’re reading this letter, then Geoffrey found you.

  I got too anxious waiting. When a person is your entire world, and you know you’re about to lose all that means anything to you in one fell swoop, like you’ve been afraid would happen all along, well, I just couldn’t sit still anymore. I needed to let off a little excess energy before you left me. I think better in the water. More positively. I told you that once. I know you remember.

  I remember everything about you . . .

  The chiming sound of your laughter. The creamy softness of your skin. The sweet taste of your lips. The way your hair looks like spun gold when the sun shines on it, or it did before you bleached the color out of it. The sparkle of your eyes when you’re happy. The dullness in them when you’re sad.

  I never wanted to make you sad. I wanted to show you how love could be. How I could love you. How we could be together.

  I thought love could make a difference. That a wish and reality could intersect, and inside that frame could be a happily ever after for us. But I’m afraid now that you may have had it right all along.

  I tried. I tried so hard to make the wrongs in my life right for you. I repaid the gambling debts. It took Samuel’s money and my salary from you to do it. I went to Biloxi, then I tried to stay away from you afterward. To cut all ties between us. You remember? But I came back. And you gave me a pass without asking anything in return. Just wanting me. And I just wanted you.

  The paper shook as I crinkled it in my trembling hands. Someone to want me for me? It was what I’d always wanted.

  I swiped aside my tears and refocused to read the rest. There wasn’t much more.

  This fakery with Lori was my last chance to try to redirect Samuel. I thought if I could fool him into believing you weren’t my world, he wouldn’t be able to pressure me anymore. But he didn’t buy it. He just keeps hammering at me. Threatening to expose me to you. He knows my worst fear is losing you. He slices at that fear again and again, cutting into it, cutting me down. Probably like he kept cutting you down year after year when you lived with him.

  He made you think so little of yourself, when the reality is that you are so much better than all of us. So worthy of love. Worthy of better than mine, for sure. But mine, you have. Mine you will always have. I told you so many times. Do you remember?

  Love always,

  Max

  Crushing the paper to my chest, I stood. The little boy was gone, but remembering the direction he’d come from, I moved that way.

  Tears blinding me, I had to sidestep out of the way to avoid paramedics rushing toward the water with a stretcher in their hands. But though I was clumsy, the important thing was I remembered everything Max said.

  He’d tried for me. It had been me for him. I’d mattered to him. And maybe, just maybe, there was a way forward without any more secrets between us.

  My hand low over my stomach, I stumbled. I noticed the men with the stretcher beside a lifeguard vehicle parked by the water’s edge. They had stopped because there was a stretcher already there and a figure lying on it.

  Prone.

  Unmoving.

  A man.

  “No.” I shook my head, but I knew it was Max. There was no denying it, though there were no vertical grooves on his cheeks and no air lifting his chest to fill his lungs.

  My eyes burning, I watched the paramedic draw up the blanket, covering his handsome face and his familiar golden hair.

  My cell rang in my pocket. I ignored it. From behind me, Olivia called my name. I ignored her.

  With all that I had in me, I willed Max to move, to sit up on the stretcher.

  But my will wasn’t strong enough.

  I wasn’t enough.

  “No,” I whispered, dropping to my knees in the sand, my possibility for love swept out from under me like the tide.

  The world was only so bi
g a place. I’d run to the farthest edges of it and come back to the beginning. But in the end, there was no running away from myself and the truth I’d always known.

  ISLAND SIDE

  Rock Stars, Surf and Second Chances - Book 5

  Michelle Mankin

  We know what we are, but know not what we may be.

  Hamlet, Act VI, Scene V by William Shakespeare

  Prologue

  * * *

  Hollie

  “You need to sit down and stop pacing.” My agent, Olivia, peered over the top of her reading glasses at me from her seat on the sectional in my condo.

  “I can’t sit.”

  If I did, the despair would catch up to me. It would crash over me like a wave, flooding my lungs with remorse, and suffocating my mind with regrets like the saltwater had done to Max.

  “I can’t do this.”

  Hugging my arms tighter around myself, I turned away from her and returned my focus to the window, aware that her concerned gaze lingered on me. My chest tight with pain, I stared out at the valley. The darkness of it seemed to mirror the blackness inside me.

  Max couldn’t be gone.

  He just couldn’t.

  And yet, he was.

  I thought back to earlier on the boardwalk in Santa Monica. After I’d regained my feet, I’d raced across the sand, stumbling and falling a few times before I reached him. I’d yanked back the blanket that had covered his face while Olivia explained to the paramedics who I was.

  It had been the wrong thing for me to do.

  Witnessing death firsthand made everything so real. So final. So undeniable. At least with my mother, there had been some separation from the horror of it. I was able to remember her alive. Now I was afraid I would always remember Max the way I’d last seen him on the beach.

  I shivered, recalling the vacancy in his once-beautiful eyes, and how cold his body had been, absent the vibrant warmth of his spirit.