Their lives were insane. And somewhere in Bloomington, Indiana, Katy Hart was trying to make up her mind about taking a leading role that would put her smack in the middle of it. As he drove to the hospital and considered what he’d say to Kelly Parker to give her hope again, all he could think about was that he’d done his best to get Katy to say yes.
But maybe if he cared about her that was the worst thing he could’ve done. Because everything she worried about regarding the life of fame and fortune wasn’t exaggerated the way he’d told her.
It was right on.
Enough of the warnings. Chloe was ready to act.
She hadn’t eaten in three days. Just an occasional cup of coffee and a smoothie or two from the ice-cream shop in Malibu Market. Otherwise she barely left her car. She and Anna, that is. But she was keeping Anna down, reminding her that she held control. She and no one else.
The knife was always with her, the knife and the camera—in case anyone asked questions. She’d even used the camera a time or two. Photographs that could go in their family album later on. But it was the knife that consumed her these days, the knife that filled her thoughts. She’d starved herself long enough. Finally she was ready to use it.
“You’re loony,” Anna had told her the day before when she sat in her private place on the hill watching Dayne’s house. “You’ll get caught, and then we’ll both go down.”
“I won’t get caught!” Chloe had screamed at her sister. “Leave me alone!”
The thing was, something had to be keeping Dayne away from her. By now he should’ve come out and found her, introduced himself, and explained how sorry he was for neglecting their wedding vows.
Forever, right? Wasn’t that what he’d promised her?
She’d told Anna that she kept Dayne in the glove box, but that was only half the truth. The glove box wasn’t a real glove box. It was a private place in her mind, a place where no one else could enter, not even Anna. And that’s where Dayne had lived since they were married. But now it was time for him to come home.
If she had to take him by force, so be it. She was ready.
And since something had to be keeping him, she was pretty sure it was another woman. That was Dayne’s style, something she’d have to break him of. Other women all the time. He wouldn’t be able to lie to her because she read the magazines. If Dayne was sleeping with someone, she knew it. In fact, she knew it first. Because she knew where he was every day, every waking hour.
That’s more than the celebrity magazines could say.
Now it was Monday and she was parked outside the studio again. Who cared if the police came and asked her questions? She could always wield the knife on them, right?
“No, you can’t wield a knife at a police officer, stupid.” Anna appeared in the passenger seat and sneered at Chloe. “They’ll pull a gun and shoot you dead.”
Chloe thought about that. “Dead’s better than being without Dayne. He’s my husband, Anna. We have a right to be together.”
“You’re a nutcase.”
Chloe glared at her. “Shut up or I’ll stick the knife through you instead.”
That quieted her down. It always quieted her.
She turned and stared at the driveway that led to the studio. If Dayne wanted to fool around with other women, that was his business. But it was her job to get rid of the cheap Hollywood trash who would dare sleep with her husband.
And so it had come to this: The next woman she saw with Dayne Matthews was as good as dead. She would follow him every hour until she saw who was taking his time, his heart. Then she would find a way to grab the woman and kill her. Kill her once and for all. It would be messy with a knife, but Chloe had no other choice. She would kill her and bury the body. She’d done it before.
Then Dayne would be free to take his place by her side, and one day very soon they could start planning the trip they’d put off for far too long.
Their honeymoon.
Katy made the call Monday at five o’clock—two hours after landing in Los Angeles. It was her third trip in less than a month, and this time she didn’t tell Dayne she was coming. She had his cell phone number, and as soon as she was settled in her hotel, she dialed it.
He answered on the first ring. “Katy?” His voice was so full of hope, she almost laughed.
“Hi.” Her smile sounded in her voice. “Guess where I am?”
“Hannibal, Missouri?”
This time she did laugh. “No, I’m on vacation from there.” She paused. “I talked to the studio travel department and booked a flight. I’m in LA.”
“Really?” The hope doubled. “So . . . have you made your decision?”
“Yes.” She didn’t want to keep him waiting a minute longer. “I’m taking the part. I have the contract with me.”
Dayne let out a shout, but almost as quickly he recovered. “You won’t be sorry. We’ll have a blast making this movie.”
“That’s what I figured.” She stared out her hotel room onto the busy boulevard below. “Have you had dinner?”
“Not yet. I’m still at the studio.” He hesitated, but it sounded like his enthusiasm was still building. “How about you come pick me up and we’ll go down to Paradise Cove—it’s a private beach. They film a lot of movies there.”
Katy felt a chill pass from her neck to her elbows. Was this how it would be? Together with him day after day, sharing meals and conversation? Building a friendship? Katy tried to gather her thoughts, but they were like fallen leaves in a windstorm. “That’d be great. What about dinner?”
“I’ll get us box picnics from the commissary.”
Katy was at the studio thirty minutes later. She stepped in through a back door and found Dayne where he’d been before—in the office down the hall. He beamed at her as he stood and held out his hand. She took it, and the resulting handshake made them both smile. “The car’s outside.”
He drove, but he kept the window up. “This is great. These rental cars throw off the paparazzi every time.” He grinned at her. “Life feels almost normal.”
Katy’s smile faded. “Is it that bad? The fame and attention?”
“Depends on how you judge it.” He adjusted his sunglasses and shrugged. “Day to day it isn’t bad. You get used to it.”
“They don’t really follow you everywhere, do they?” She was surprised at how comfortable she felt, driving down Pacific Coast Highway with Dayne at the wheel. “The paparazzi, I mean.”
He gave her a crooked frown. “Yeah, they do. Some of their high-powered lenses can see through windows into the darkest rooms of your house. You have to be on your guard all the time.”
The thought cast a shadow on the sunny feeling in her heart. “But that’s just for people like you and a few others. The biggest names, right?”
“Not really.” He rolled the window down now and leaned his elbow on the frame of the door. “If you’ve got a name or a face the public might recognize, they’ll follow you.” He grinned at her. “You know, in case they catch you scratching yourself or with your hair less than perfect.”
Her heart rate picked up, and she silently scolded herself. What was she worried about? God had led her to this decision, hadn’t He? Certainly she wouldn’t be of any interest to the paparazzi. “I guess it’s better to stay away from the gossip magazines.”
“Exactly.” He leaned back against the headrest, the sunshine on his face. He gave her a quick look. “You don’t read them, do you?”
“Rarely.” She laughed and stared at the Pacific Ocean off to their left. The sun sprayed a million diamonds across the water. “I guess I wouldn’t believe the garbage they print, anyway.”
“That’a girl.”
They reached a crest in the hilly highway, and Dayne slowed the car. The ocean was blocked from view at this point, and an exclusive tree-covered neighborhood lay spread out between the road and the beach beyond. A sign read Paradise Cove.
“This is it.” Dayne turned. At the security box, he p
unched in a code and the gate opened. He drove down a narrow asphalt drive until it ended in a parking area and a beach no bigger than a football field, surrounded by natural rock that jutted out into the ocean on both sides.
“It’s beautiful.” Katy pointed to a short pier off to the left. “I recognize that.”
He turned off the engine and leaned back. “It’s been in too many movies and television shows to count. It’s easy to get a film crew down here, and you can avoid the public almost entirely.” He looked at her. “Not the paparazzi though. They’ll use kayaks or hike in from the highway through a hole in the fence. Anything they can do to get the pictures.”
Again the thought of such a constant interruption grated on Katy, but she changed the subject. No point borrowing from tomorrow’s troubles. Besides, one film wouldn’t make her a target. If she didn’t want to do more than that, she didn’t have to. She scanned the small beach and saw no sign of other people. Dayne was right. Good thing they had her rental car. At least this evening he wouldn’t have to worry about photographers.
“All clear?” Dayne grabbed the two picnic boxes from the backseat.
“Looks like it.” She chuckled as she climbed out and shut the door. “Now you’ve got me paranoid.”
“That’s the whole point; you can’t be paranoid. You’ve gotta roll with it, not let it bug you. Sometimes I smile for them—takes the fun out of the chase.” Dayne led the way down toward the sand and stopped at a picnic table on a small patch of grass. “How’s this?”
Katy took in a full breath and tilted her head toward the sun. “Beautiful.” She looked at him. “Sunset on a private beach? Are you kidding?”
She took her spot opposite him, and for a moment she thought about praying for the meal. But she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Instead she uttered a quick silent prayer and opened her picnic at the same time he did.
“Turkey sandwiches, chips, and fruit. Nothing special.” He smiled at her across the table. “Okay, Miss Katy Hart, so tell me about your decision. What swayed you?”
“God.” She met his eyes and held them. “I couldn’t have come if I didn’t feel I had His blessing.”
Dayne still had the sunglasses on, but she could see him studying her all the same. “You’re serious?”
“Very.” She tried to see beyond the surface of him. “Haven’t you ever had that kind of faith?”
“Not really.” He took a bite of his sandwich and gazed at the ocean for a few moments. Then he looked at her again. “My parents were missionaries.”
Katy had to hold on to the bench to keep from falling off at the news. Dayne Matthews’ parents were missionaries? “Are they overseas?”
“No.” Dayne took a breath and sat up a little straighter. “They died in a single-engine plane crash over the jungles of Indonesia when I was eighteen.” The muscles in his jaw flexed, and for a moment he didn’t talk. “I was an only child.”
A somberness hung in the air between them. “Where were you? When the plane crashed.”
“I was a senior in high school. I grew up in a boarding facility for missionary kids.” He let out a bitter chuckle. “In my life, God’s always won out. Every time.”
Understanding dawned in Katy’s soul. No wonder Dayne didn’t talk much about faith. She wanted to ask him more questions, how he felt about growing up away from his parents and how he managed without a family. But it didn’t seem like the right time. Besides, the answers were as obvious as the tone in Dayne’s voice. He felt terrible about it.
“It’s okay.” He grinned at her and opened his bag of chips. “That was a long time ago. I’m fine.”
“Good.” She hesitated, then bit into her sandwich. There had to be other things they could talk about. “Thanks for bringing me here. It’s wonderful.”
“I wanted to look in your eyes and hear it from you.” He pushed his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and peered at her. “You’re really gonna do it?”
“Yes.” The happy feelings were back. Whatever Dayne held against God, she could talk to him about it later. They’d have almost two months together during filming. She’d simply pray for a chance to talk to Dayne, and maybe in the process he’d find his way back to the faith his parents had taught him. It was one more reason God must’ve allowed this opportunity.
They finished their sandwiches, talking about the beach and the films that had been made here.
When they were done eating, Katy pushed her box away and studied him. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
“Sure.” Dayne folded his box and stuffed it into hers. “Ask.”
“I might not read the gossip magazines, but everyone knows your reputation, Dayne. Are you seeing anyone right now?”
“Nope.” His answer was quick and sure. “I’m tired of ten-minute Hollywood relationships.” He rested his forearms on the table. “I’d rather be alone.” He angled his head. “What about you? I asked before, but any true loves back in Bloomington?”
Katy thought about Heath and smiled. “No. Nothing serious.”
“That’ll make it easier when we film.” Dayne’s voice was quieter than before, barely audible over the ocean breeze. “People outside the business have a hard time understanding the hours we put in.”
Dayne stood and reached out across the table for her hand. “Come walk with me, Katy. Tell me more about yourself.”
She stood and put her fingers in his. They tossed their trash in a nearby bin and walked slowly out onto the sand. Halfway to the shoreline, they stopped and stared at the water. Katy felt a chill run down her arms. She wasn’t sure if it was from the cooling temperatures or Dayne’s nearness.
The fact that they were holding hands was merely his way of being her friend; she was pretty sure. Still, she had to bite the inside of her lip to remind herself she was really standing here on the beach holding hands with one of Hollywood’s leading men.
Dayne was telling her something about the movie, about a direction Mitch Henry wanted to take in a certain scene. But Katy couldn’t focus. All she could think about was the statement he’d made earlier. About how being single would make it easier when they filmed. She was crazy to think this, but something wild and frightening told her his words held a double meaning, that being single might be easier not only because of the hours they put in.
But because of whatever the two of them might find together.
Dayne had never felt this way before.
With Katy’s hand tucked in his own, he felt like the recipient of a great and precious treasure, something rare and delicate that could be gone in a moment’s time, a gift that could be taken from his life as quickly as it had been given.
It was almost eight o’clock, and the sun was setting. They talked about his rise to stardom, how quickly it had happened. “I never planned on being a star.” He led her a little closer to the water and pulled her down beside him on the sand.
“I guess no one plans for it.” She pulled her knees up to her chest with her free hand. “When did you know? I mean, that there was no turning back?”
He gazed up at the dusky sky. “I was maybe twenty-eight, twenty-nine years old. I’d been busy making one film after another, getting a bigger role each time. I went out to dinner with one of the biggest names in the industry, an older actor.” He paused. “That night I must’ve signed two dozen autographs, and the old guy was recognized maybe three or four times. When the dinner was over, he looked at me and said, ‘Dayne, my boy, you’ve arrived.’” He glanced at Katy. “Nothing’s been the same since.”
She told him about her past, her dream of acting in the movies, and her relationship with Tad Thompson. “He was the only guy I’ve ever loved.”
“What happened to him?” The last time they talked, the afternoon at Pepperdine University, Dayne had guessed that her departure from acting had something to do with a guy. “Was he in the business?”
Katy hesitated. Then she told him about Tad and her going off to college and Tad??
?s success in film.
“Now that you mention it, I remember him. I think we met at a party once or twice.”
She didn’t look surprised. “So you knew about his death?”
Dayne squinted, trying to remember. Then the details came back to him. “Drug overdose, wasn’t that it?”
Katy nodded. The sun had set now, and darkness washed over the beach.
“The wild party life you talked about before.”
“Yep.” She rested her chin on her knee. “Poor Tad. He got in too deep and didn’t know how to get out.”
“I’m sorry.” The pieces were all coming together. Of course Katy had walked away from acting. She associated the loss of her boyfriend with what she perceived to be the Hollywood lifestyle. “He got caught up with the wrong crowd; that’s all.” Dayne gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Not all of us are like that.”
“I know.” Her eyes still held the memory of sadness, but the corners of her lips lifted some. “That was a long time ago.”
The wind off the ocean was chillier now. Dayne stood and helped her to her feet. “We better get you back to your hotel.” He wanted to ask her back to his house, sit beside her in his warm family room, and watch a movie. Maybe even her pilot. But she wouldn’t go, not when they barely knew each other.
“This was nice.” She looked at him as they walked. The moon was little more than a sliver, the parking lot and the houses a couple hundred yards beyond shrouded in darkness. Still, he could see that her eyes shone. “I’ll come to the studio tomorrow, and we can go over the contract with Mitch.”
“Sounds good.” Dayne slowed his pace, and as they reached the grassy patch near the picnic table, he turned to her. Suddenly, with the steady sound of the waves and the whisper of a breeze in their hair, he couldn’t resist. He took a step closer to her, leaned in, and kissed her. Not the passionate kiss he might share with Kelly Parker or a handful of his recent leading ladies. Rather, a kiss that spoke of uncertainty and interest all at the same time.