Switched At Birth

by Christine Rimmer

  “Madison!” called one of the cameramen.

  “Who’s that?” demanded Coco.

  “I don’t know his name, sweetheart. But I want to talk to him for a minute. Meet you on the deck?”

  “But I want to come with—”

  “Please.”

  Something in her expression must have gotten through. Coco took off.

  Photojournalists were not allowed to trespass on private property—not that they necessarily always obeyed the laws. However, nobody owned the ocean and the two men were staying very close to the waves.

  Madison marched right up to them. They just kept snapping as she approached. “No photos of that child,” she said. They weren’t supposed to take pictures of children, anyway—except for child actors.

  And actually, the rules she kept reassuring herself they had to follow were California rules. She hoped they applied in Oregon, too.

  “Not interested in the kid,” said one, camera still over his face.

  “Why does it matter?” the other fired back, adjusting his giant lens. “Who is she?”

  “A local,” Madison said and added with emphasis, “Not an actor.”

  “Show us those dimples,” the second guy demanded.

  “What brings you to Valentine Bay?” asked the first.

  It was only going to devolve from here. Madison turned on her heel and headed for the cottage again, not once looking back.

  Coco, leaning on the railing above, was waiting for her. She ran up the steps. They left the pails of castle-making equipment at the door along with their shoes, brushed the sand from their feet and went inside, where Madison explained as simply as she could that the men on the beach were photographers taking pictures of her because she was an actress.

  Coco listened attentively and then asked for a cold drink. “Or a Popsicle. Do you have Popsicles?”

  Madison gave her a glass of orange juice and then walked her back to the other house, using the front door this time. The paps were nowhere in sight. That didn’t mean they weren’t lurking nearby.

  When Sten got home, she told him what had happened. He went out and looked around, but found no sign of anyone else in the cove. They went over to the other house to report the incident to Karin and Otto, who seemed no more concerned than Sten had.

  The Larsons didn’t understand. Two guys with cameras was just the beginning.

  * * *

  The next day, shortly after the Larsons and Killigans left for the day, six photographers appeared. Madison watched them from behind the glass door of the cottage. They appeared out of the mist from way down the beach somewhere and they stayed close to the water. She had no way of knowing if there were more of them lurking on the cliffs above the front of the house.

  Madison remained inside. She Googled herself. Yep. There she was playing in the sand with Coco, who was shot from the back and unrecognizable, thank God for small favors.

  The caption read: America’s Darling makes sandcastles in the Pacific Northwest.

  The copy was minimal, just that she was enjoying some time off in the charming seaside town of Valentine Bay. But it wouldn’t stay minimal. If she remained here, eventually someone would get a shot of her and Sten. Once they figured out that she was romantically involved with someone, well, talk about a feeding frenzy.

  No. It was no good. The Larsons loved their quiet, private life here in the cove. She didn’t want to mess that up.

  And what about her newfound family? She and Harper and Hailey had gotten pretty loose Sunday night. Loose enough that she’d been recognized. She wasn’t sure how much they’d said about being sisters, now she thought about it. Anyone in the Sea Breeze might have overheard. Plus, well, you only had to look at all three of them together to notice the family resemblance.

  That would be one hell of a scoop: America’s Darling: Switched at Birth.

  Yeah, okay, it would probably come out at some point, anyway.

  But if she left now she would have at least a chance of saving her family from the chaos of a media circus.

  It was time for her to go.

  Time to go and she was in love with Sten and whenever she tried to talk to him about how much he meant to her, he came back with a gentle reminder that what they had was just for now.

  Or worse, he would pretend she hadn’t said anything. She might have been a little wasted from the Jell-O shots, back there in the early hours of Monday morning, but she clearly remembered saying she loved him.

  As well as the resounding silence that followed.

  Was she a fool?

  She couldn’t help but think that maybe she had it all wrong and he was right. That what they had was a fantasy, beautiful but temporary. An interlude and nothing more.

  She called Rudy.

  Four hours later, Dirk and Sergei arrived in a rented Hummer. They chased the paparazzi away—at least temporarily—and checked the cottage and the perimeter for points of vulnerability.

  She explained to them that the Larsons were to be given free access to her and the cottage, that she had grown close with them over the past few weeks. She did not need security from them. They were not to be intimidated or questioned. If they knocked on the door, she would let them in.

  As for Sten, he wouldn’t knock. And Sergei and Dirk were to do nothing about that except maybe say hello and shake his hand.

  * * *

  At a little before six, Sten passed the Hummer parked in front of the cottage as he came down the driveway headed for his garage. Was the bodyguard back?

  Had something bad happened that would make Maddy call in security?

  His pulse ratcheted up several notches.

  Maybe he should have taken her more seriously when she seemed so worried about those photographers who’d shown up on the beach yesterday.

  He parked the truck and headed for the cottage, letting himself in through the front entrance. A giant, muscled-up Slavic-looking guy was standing, feet wide, massive arms crossed over his enormous chest, a few feet from the door.

  “Hi,” the guy said, and actually cracked a reasonable semblance of a smile. “I’m Sergei.”

  “Sten.”

  “Yeah. I know.” He offered a hand the size of a frying pan.

  Sten shook it as Maddy appeared. She looked a little anxious, but otherwise okay.

  “Hey,” she said.

  Sergei stepped aside and Sten went to her, taking her by the shoulders. “You all right?”

  “Yeah. Long story. We’ll talk.” She kissed him, just a quick peck, but it helped to ease his general feeling of apprehension. A little.

  He glanced toward the main room and saw the other bodyguard, the one he remembered from before, Dirk.

  Dirk gave him a wave.

  Maddy said, “Dirk. Sergei. Walk the perimeter, or whatever. Just find something to do outside for an hour.”

  The bodyguards didn’t look happy, but a few seconds later, they were out the door.

  Maddy turned a too-bright smile on him. “So. How ’bout a beer?”

  He pulled her close again and gazed steadily into those aquamarine eyes. “What’s going on?”

  She scraped her pretty teeth along her lower lip. “Let’s at least go in the great room and sit down.”

  His general uneasiness growing once more, he followed her in there and dropped down on the couch beside her. “Okay. What?”

  “The paparazzi showed up again today—out on the beach. And I know how this goes. Today, there were six of them. Tomorrow there will be more.” She looked so worried. He didn’t really get why a few eager-beaver reporters alarmed her. At the same time, he needed to protect her, to know that she felt safe. Thus, he wanted to break a few expensive cameras just on principle.

  “Hey.” Sliding a hand under the silky fall of her hair, he tugged her close and brushe
d a kiss between her brows. He kept his voice gentle when he asked, “Did they harass you?”

  “Other than the general annoyance of knowing they were out there lurking, waiting for a chance to get the perfect shot of me doing something sexy, illegal or outrageous, no. I stayed in the house where they couldn’t use their telephoto lenses on me. They aren’t allowed on private property, so they never left the beach—until Sergei and Dirk arrived to scare them away.”

  “If you were that freaked about it, I wish you had called me.”

  “I wasn’t freaked. I know how this works, that’s all. I was lucky, really, to get a whole month here before they found me.”

  “So, we’ll have Dirk and Sergei in the spare rooms from now on?” It didn’t sound great, but if she needed them to feel safe, she should have them.

  “Sten.”

  Leaning close again, he pressed his forehead to hers and breathed in the spicy-sweet scent of her skin. “You look so down. Why?”

  She pulled back. Reluctantly, he released her. “It’s time for me to go back to LA.”

  Every nerve in his body rebelled at that. And suddenly there was a weird ache in the center of his chest. She wasn’t going anywhere. Not yet. They still had time. “What are you talking about? You have the cottage for two more weeks.”

  “I know. But I can’t stay.”

  “Yes, you—”

  She silenced him with two soft fingertips against his lips. “I know you don’t understand. You live in this beautiful place and nobody bothers you. Well, as of now, you will be bothered if I stay here. They’ll descend in force and they’ll not only be looking for pictures, they will want the story, to know why I suddenly decided to go incognito for a month in some tiny town in Oregon. It’ll just be a circus and I’m not up for that. I’ve called my family and let them know I’m leaving. They weren’t any happier about it than I am, but at least we connected. I have some time yet, before my next movie. Harper and Hailey might be able to make it for a visit to LA.”

  He couldn’t sit still. He jumped up, went to the window and stood staring blindly out. “I guess I’m just not ready for you to go.” He faced her then.

  She was on her feet, so beautiful, with those eyes he would never get enough of staring into, that mouth he couldn’t wait to kiss. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

  He went to her, took her by her slim shoulders. “This is just crazy. Come on, you don’t have to go.”

  Her soft lips were trembling. “Oh, Sten. Are you...?”

  “What?”

  She scanned his face as though seeking the answer to some major question. “I mean, well, it would be different. We could take a different approach to this problem, if we were in it for, um, more.” What she said wasn’t clear.

  But he understood her anyway. He let his hands drop to his sides. “More.”

  She tipped her chin higher. “I think I told you, I have two upcoming projects I can’t get out of. That could add up to a year, possibly longer, of work I’m committed to. There will be media, PR stuff I have to do after that, promotion for both projects, awards seasons, all that. If we were together, we would essentially find a way to come out as a couple. Maybe a magazine interview, maybe a press conference, whatever. You would have to deal with the media, at least to a degree. For a while, I mean. But give me the next two or three years, and I’m done. I’m not doing another film. It won’t be that long before I’m old news. We could make a plan to settle here, in Valentine Bay.”

  It sounded so possible when she put it like that. He really needed to watch it, keep both feet firmly on solid ground or she’d have him convinced that it was all going to magically work out and they could wander off into the sunset together. “Come on. You don’t really mean that. You won’t really like the quiet life. You’re Madison Delaney, damn it.”

  She drew herself up. “I’ve been telling you since I got here what I’m going to do and I’ve meant it every time I’ve said it. I’ve loved my career and I know I’ve been spectacularly fortunate. I’ve had all the breaks. It’s been great, but I’m so done. I want a real life now, to walk down the street and have nobody care. To be with my family, to have friends I can count on who can count on me back, to...learn to lay tile. To open a kids’ party business with my sisters. I want to get married—to you, Sten. I want us to have kids. I want to yell too loud at our little girl’s soccer games and cry with love and pride when our son has a solo in the school Christmas show. I want an ordinary, everyday life—with you, I hope. But one way or another, I am making big changes, making a new kind of life for myself, I truly am.”

  “Maddy...” He reached for her again.

  She came into his arms with a soft cry. He lifted her stubborn chin and he kissed her.

  So sweet, that kiss.

  He wished it might never end.

  But it did. She pulled away and looked up at him, her gaze unwavering. “I love you, Sten Larson. I love you and, no, I’m not sure how it would work, exactly, given the zoo that is my life, but I think if we both just started with agreeing that we want to stay together, that we both want to make it work, we could take it from there, we could start figuring out how to create something that feels like forever.”

  “Maddy,” he said. He had no idea what to say next.

  But she knew. She got it. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and whispered, “So, then. That’s a no?”

  He didn’t want to say it. But he knew that he had to. “I’m just not a Hollywood type of guy.”

  “And I’m not asking you to be one.”

  He wished he could believe her. But she wasn’t facing the way the world really worked. “Look, eventually, you’re going to start thinking about how the life you say you’re done with matters to you, after all. You’re not going to want to give up what you’ve worked so hard for, the kind of life most people would kill for. You’ve earned what you have. Why should you leave it behind?”

  “I just told you why. Because I want something different now.”

  “Uh-uh. Maddy, come on. It’s not going to work out for us. You’re America’s Darling and I’m just a regular guy. We need to face that, not start making promises we know we won’t keep.”

  “I would,” she insisted. “I would keep my promises to you, Sten. I swear to you I would.”

  It was so hard, not to grab her close, not to start promising things back to her, not to join in her delusion that love could magically make everything right. “No, Maddy. I can’t.”

  * * *

  Madison longed to keep trying, to keep pushing, start begging.

  But she not only loved him, she knew him. Already. In just a few short, beautiful weeks.

  He was her guy, her forever.

  But he couldn’t—or simply wouldn’t—open his heart and let her in.

  And she was no miracle worker. She couldn’t make a blind man see. She wouldn’t convince him of anything if he was set against believing in all they could be.

  Somehow, she spoke reasonably. “I don’t know who broke your trust, Sten. But I really hope someday you realize that there are women in this world who actually mean what they say.”

  He only stood there, saying nothing, looking at her with bleak acceptance in his eyes.

  She longed to ask him for this one more night.

  But please. A girl needed to have at least a little pride.

  “Thank you,” she said, knowing she sounded stiff and fake and not really caring all that much. “Thank you for everything, for all the ways you’ve made my visit here amazing. I will always remember this time we’ve had together.”

  “Goodbye.” He kind of growled the word at her. “That’s what you mean, right?”

  “Yes.” Her heart was in a million pieces. But she wouldn’t start crying over that. Not till he was gone. “Goodbye.”

  Chapter Twelve

 
A raw emptiness in his chest, as though he’d somehow scraped his own heart out with a rusty spoon, Sten went home.

  He knew he’d done the smart thing, to refuse her. It really couldn’t work with them. He was right to say no.

  He also kind of wanted to strangle himself.

  Because in the few weeks he’d known her, Maddy had managed to fill every corner of his life. He’d fallen so hard and so deep. How had he let that happen?

  Why hadn’t he stopped himself, somehow?

  He entered through the front door of his half of the main house and went on through the empty great room all the way to the wall of windows that faced the sea. The clouds had cleared off and the sky was a pure, uninterrupted blue.

  Four short weeks they’d had together. And now he could not imagine his life without her in it.

  * * *

  “Where’s Madison?” Karin asked when Sten went downstairs for dinner.

  He explained in a rational, calm voice that Madison was worried about all the photographers that had been showing up. She’d decided to go. “She’s leaving for Los Angeles tomorrow.”

  Coco jumped up. “I need to go see her.”

  “Sit down, honey,” said Karin. “Eat your dinner. I’ll give her a call later. We’ll all say goodbye before she goes.”

  “But, Mommy. I don’t want her to go.”

  “She can’t stay forever,” said Ben in his best Little Professor voice. “She’s a movie star. She has acting she has to do.”

  “But we didn’t even get to finish our sandcastle.” Coco’s big eyes welled with tears. “It’s not fair. It’s just not fair!”

  “Honey...”

  “It’s not fair!”

  “Oh, sweetheart.” Karin held out her arms.

  Coco flung herself into them. “Mama. She’s my friend. She’s my friend and now she’s going.” The tears overflowed.

  Karin got up. Coco clung to her, lifting her legs and wrapping them around her waist as she sobbed against her neck. “We’ll be back,” Karin said, and turned for the hallway that led to the bedrooms.

  Sten’s dad asked gruffly, “You tell Madison that you love her?”