Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 109783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
The uneasiness between us settled as we chatted about Cameron getting a grip on small-town life.
“And you?” he asked. “How is retirement treating you?”
The truth was my agent, Danny, had been in touch every other day pestering me about my future. He’d warned me my performance in the last season of Young Adult had rumors whirring that I would be nominated for a BAFTA again next January. That I owed it to the show to do all the interview requests coming in. He’d been talking to my PR team who he said were inundated with queries. Of course they were. Tell people you no longer wanted something millions of folks would kill to have, and suddenly you were cool as fuck as well as an ungrateful brat and everyone wanted to talk to you about it. It took a minute, but after monologuing exactly how I was feeling, I think I finally got through to Danny.
“He’s going to back off?” Cameron asked.
“Yes. I told him I wasn’t going to change my mind about quitting acting. That the last few weeks I’ve been happier than ever. That he should focus his energy on other clients. He said he was sorry to hear it, that he truly believed I was one of his most talented clients, which was lovely, but that he’d back off. And I believe him.”
At least that was one thing I didn’t have to worry about anymore. Especially with so-called friends from the industry reaching out to ask if I was okay in a tone that most people usually reserved for the terminally ill. Some of them had started sending me articles that trashed me under the pretense of being concerned. I blocked them. Other friends were kinder, if not a little patronizing and disbelieving.
I turned off my Google Alerts and lived in absolute ignorant bliss.
The only downside was Jasper. One of the articles a “friend” sent was an interview he did where he pretty much insinuated that I was a diva who had ruined his chance to remain on a show he loved. Fans adored Jasper. I had no doubt my name was being dragged through the social media mud.
I had to admit, it made me cry.
Not because I was being vilified. I think I’d made peace with my inability to control other people’s gossiping ridiculousness.
No, I cried for a friendship lost. I cried because Jasper had betrayed me and because in his twisted, selfish mind, he did it because he thought me putting my mental health before the show was a betrayal of him.
After that, I deleted his contact from my phone.
Finally, my management team, whom I’d kept on to handle tying up my career, had reached out to let me know I’d received some disturbing death threats. I was sad to say it wasn’t the first time. When it did happen the first time, I freaked way the fuck out and had security accompany me everywhere. Since then, we just forwarded all that stuff to the police.
But my management company was concerned I was at home without protection. However, I felt the opposite. I felt safer in Ardnoch than anywhere. I told them to forward on the threats to the police as per the usual process. They kept a file of all the creepy emails, DMs, and letters, along with a list of dodgy characters who had revealed themselves and their stalker-like behavior. My security teams used to memorize that list before we went anywhere. I’d asked the team to forward the folder to me because it might prove useful, considering the cameras found in my London flat.
No. I hadn’t forgotten about that. I was just trying to compartmentalize that shit.
I stared at Cameron who waited for my answer about how retirement was treating me. “It’s good,” I replied simply. “Looking after Millie has been a nice change of pace.”
“Of course.” He nodded. “But you should remember you came home for yourself. You should concentrate on your writing.”
He said it casually, but there was a pointed sharpness to his tone. “I came home for my family. Millie’s family. I’ll take care of her for as long as she needs.”
His smile was soft. “You’re a good person.”
Hmm.
As if he sensed my uncertainty about his motives, Cameron leaned in to kiss me. He was a good kisser. I’d give him that.
Deepening the kiss, Cameron drew me against him, his hands smoothing around my waist and under my T-shirt.
The image of Fyfe standing half-naked in his bedroom flashed in my mind. I’d stupidly walked into his bedroom without knocking the morning Millie puked up her breakfast. Though I knew Fyfe was built, I’d still been stunned by how beautiful he was. Tight, sculpted muscle wrapped in smooth tan skin. He had a slight dusting of hair on his chest that narrowed downward in a happy trail. I’d seen plenty of men half-naked, men whose sole purpose in life was to look good on camera.