Chapter Thirty-Three
R ight before breakfast, I’d placed an order for a curated selection of clothes to be delivered straight to the house—the magic of online shopping.
Not long after it arrived, Willa was dressed in the T-shirt, shorts, and hiking shoes we’d picked out together. They all fit well, too, considering. She really did look adorable in anything, even with her hair tied back the way she had it now.
With our sunglasses on and water bottles filled to the brim, we set off on a hike up the pathway starting just behind my home.
Of course, I had been tempted to lead Willa back to my pool and reenact last night, take her again, after making love to her all night, but I didn’t want to scare her with my insatiable appetite.
Doing more to her, taking her through a session, would always be in the back of my mind. But for now, I had to slow this down, whatever this was, even as my heart warned it was my one chance at true happiness.
If only my head didn’t try to scare me off the idea with thoughts of inadequacy. It wasn’t like I didn’t have more money than I could spend in three lifetimes. No, it was because to me, she was simply perfect.
Willa had a remarkable blend of grace, compassion, and effortless style; she had captivated me completely.
Inside my mind-palace, I had created a thousand white marble Taj Mahal’s for her.
Too soon , my heart whispered. Hold back, before the earth-shattering pain of losing her finds you. Enjoy the illusion of an us.
There was always time for the truth to come to the light, but for me, the time was now…
With her.
The woman who had proven she deserved to know my secret and would handle it with the utmost care.
The dirt path led us on to a mixture of nature’s scenic and serene views but also featured the buzz of L.A.’s cityscape.
Hand in hand, Willa and I hiked the rugged trail, each step pushing us higher, accompanied by the fresh scents of pine and earth, a refreshing start to the new day.
Another day that she was part of my life.
For the first time in forever, the world stopped spinning on its axis, as though trying to shake me off. It was a peace I’d seen others experience but had never felt it myself.
Until now.
We crested a ridge, the city sprawling out beneath us. Both of us took a moment to pause and take in the iconic Hollywood sign rising against the sky—a towering reminder of dreams and the endless magnetic pull of Los Angeles.
“That sign is iconic,” Willa said, raising her sunglasses for a few seconds and then lowering them against the glare.
For me, it brought mixed emotions, a reason for wariness, because I knew that behind the veil lurked a darker side of Hollywood.
At the same time, I respected how tourists garnered happiness from visiting.
We made our way down the ridge until the massive letters were left towering behind us, having passed by the metal framework that was more visible up close—a stark reminder of the triviality behind it all, the fakeness, a facade to entice. A symbol of dreams, but not everyone drawn to this town was strong enough to withstand the weight of their dreams.
We sat on the grassy bank beside each other, huddled close. Before us, the distant city glinted with the vibrancy of morning. Down there lived the real creators—the writers, makeup artists, set designers, and more. The carpenters who built the sets and brought them to life. The true worker bees, the unsung heroes who made it all possible.
“Have some more water.” I pointed with my bottle toward hers. “Hydrate.”
She gave me a cute smile and gulped some down.
Then Willa rested her head against my shoulder. It felt cozy and natural and all kinds of right.
She sighed. “How often do you walk this way?”
“A few times a week. Though usually in the other direction.”
“This view is fun.”
I smiled at her. “Someone very special brought me here when I was a kid.”
“Oh, who?”
I looked off toward the valley.
“Greyson, does this have anything to do with your secret?”
The same one that Jewel was trying to sniff out.
I nodded. “It’s time.”
She studied my face. “You’re sharing it with me.”
“Yes.”
Willa pushed up onto her knees, her face flushed. “Why me?”
I reached for her hand and pulled her back down to sit beside me. “You need a story to propel your career. I need my truth to be revealed with compassion.”
“Greyson, I don’t think I’m the right person—”
“You’re exactly the right person, Willa.”
“Only if you’re sure.”
“My secret can’t be tied to shame, only to love—the quiet strength of my mother. A heartfelt truth that honors her with grace. Not for the scandal it elicits, but for the beauty of her. Her unwavering dignity. I want to honor a woman whose life was courageous and deeply human. She deserves her truth to be handled with care. Not as a spectacle, but with the same sincerity she lived by.”
“The woman in that photo frame, she wasn’t your mom?” Willa asked.
“No.”
“She wasn’t around when you were young?” Willa’s eyes watered, her empathy reflected in her fraught expression. She had deduced that from the lack of photos.
“My mom didn’t abandon me,” I said. “She protected me.”
“Was that house hers?”
“Yes, for me, it became both a sanctuary and a curse.”
“Your childhood home.”
“I grew up there, but under pretense.”
Listening intently, Willa’s hand reached for mine and gave it a squeeze. “The middle-aged couple in the photo?”
“Guardians.”
“You have no photos of her displayed.” Willa drew in a sharp breath. “Because that would reveal her to anyone visiting.”
“Exactly.”
“I sensed something in that photo,” she admitted. “The distance between you and your guardians. Am I right?”
“Ed and Oakley Grantchester. They were kind. Even gave me their name. Took good care of me. But they were paid to do it.”
She cringed. “They adopted you?”
“No. They just had power of attorney.”
A look of realization crossed her face. “I have to be honest with you, Greyson.”
“Okay.”
“My cubicle is next to Chloe’s. The journalist who tried to seduce you.”
“That’s no coincidence.”
She squeezed her eyes shut.
“Do you know what she has on me?”
“During her research she found no birth certificate for you.”
“Because I don’t have one.”
“Chloe was right, then.”
Chloe was getting close, though how much she knew was a mystery. I was the last person alive who knew about this—other than Cameron.
“Didn’t you study in England?” she said. “How did you get a passport?”
“A lawyer presented a birth affidavit for me. That’s another way to get a passport.”
“You don’t have to do this.”
I turned to face her. “You mean, I should keep this buried?”
“Yes, whatever it is. Maybe that’s okay.”
I brought her hand to my lips and kissed it tenderly, sharing that I was entrusting her with my precious history.
“I have few memories of my mom. The only place we saw each other was in that house. And of course, here. At night. When the tourists had left.”
“She didn’t live with you?”
“She stayed over, sometimes.”
“And your dad?”
I gave a wry smile. “Atticus can’t understand why I don’t leave. I’m sure he’ll understand the reason now.”
“Why didn’t you tell him?”
“I’ve only ever told one man, and that’s Cameron.”
Willa’s face lit up. “He’d guard that secret with his life.”
“We’ve talked about it. He was the only one I could trust.”
“He has a few secrets of his own, I’m sure.” She nudged my arm. “I will never use this to further my career. That’s a thing I refuse to do.”
“If it comes out, I want it to be you.”
“You stayed in that house because it’s all you have left of her.”
I smiled at a fond memory. “She wore Chanel No. 5.”
A woman kneeling before me, having brought toys, and the kind of warmth I often craved. Her hugs brightening my day and offering the love I needed.
The woman who kept my loneliness at bay.
“I was homeschooled. No friends, which made me kind of quirky.”
“Oh, Greyson, I don’t find you like that.”
“Yes, you do, but it’s fine,” I said cheerfully. “I have friends like Jake and Atticus and Cameron, and they get me.”
“And you have me, too.” Willa’s gaze narrowed. “Why did your mom not live with you?”
“It wasn’t because of her financial circumstances. Or because she couldn’t raise me. It was more complicated.”
“She continued to visit?”
“Now and again.”
“She couldn’t be seen with you?”
I nodded. Willa was probably wondering if she was a married woman.
“I never needed for anything,” I explained. “Toys, clothes, food, she spoiled me.”
“She sounds lovely.”
“I have hours of footage of her.” I turned and glanced back at the Hollywood sign.
Willa caught it. “You’re not talking about home video, are you?”
“I was kept hidden from the world because of who she was.”
Willa gave me a puzzled look.
“Photos of us together were taken in front of the same trees that are there now. Same pool.”
Willa let out a sigh of empathy, realizing the truth. It was the same pool where that awful tragedy happened.
Her comforting smile was full of kindness and understanding.
“I still have her Blancpain, a Ballerina watch. It was given to me afterwards. After she died.”
“How old were you?”
“Nine.”
“How did she die?”
“It was because of my father. Jewel has no idea what she’s going after.”
“How do you mean?”
“She knows there are secrets surrounding my birth, only not quite this compelling.”
“Greyson, who was your mom?”
I was on the brink of letting everything spill out—to a journalist, a woman I considered a friend, and someone I hoped would remain in my life. Yet, I knew it was still a risk.
“Celeste Starling.” Her name sounded sweet on my tongue, like it always did.
Willa stiffened, inhaling sharply. “I think I understand now.”
I picked at a blade of grass, waiting for Willa to continue.
She visibly shivered. “Celeste Starling was rumored to be dating the French Prime Minister at the time of her…” She paused, slowly putting the pieces together. “Greyson, was he your…?”
“Mom didn’t want anyone to know he was my dad. Especially him.”
“Why?”
“He was married. His career was in a fragile state, and he was known to be unkind to anyone who got in his way.”
“She protected you from him?”
I gave a steady nod.
“Celeste was rumored to have died under suspicious circumstances.” She put a hand over her mouth, meeting my gaze with a questioning look.
“Yes,” I answered.
“Are you saying…?”
“That he found out about me? Yes.”
“No, please, not that.”
“What he didn’t know was that my mother’s housekeeper was there the night of her death, hiding in the other room. Edith was present when his men made a visit to Mom’s Silverlake home. They drugged Mom, trying to get her to give up my whereabouts.”
Willa swallowed hard, unable to hide her horror at this heinous act.
One my father had gotten away with.
“You’ve had to live with this?” she whispered. “How?”
I let out a sigh. How had he done that to someone he had professed to love, how had she been brave enough to withstand their torture, how had I endured this for so long?
I stared at my hands. “She protected me.”
“How did you find out?” she asked softly.
“Overheard the conversation. Ed and Oakley believed I was outside playing, but I was in the kitchen, listening.”
She shook her head as though to shake off the sorrow. “Did they ever realize you knew?”
“Yes, because I cried that day, was unconsolable. Oakley sat on the edge of my bed and told me this could never be shared with anyone.”
“You’d become too well known. When anyone talked of your mom, they’d mention you, too.”
“I don’t want Jewel to use my past against me.”
“I appreciate you sharing this, but there is no way I would tell even one soul about any of it.”
“It would help your career.” I shrugged. “Something like this would put you in the spotlight.”
“At your expense.”
“If not you, Jewel will expose the truth and massacre my mom’s memory.”
Willa wrapped her arm around mine. “Your mom deserves to rest in peace. She deserves to keep her secret. So do you. We must guard against this ever coming out.”
“Not sure I can.”
“We can try.”
“You know, if you want to be a successful journalist, you might want to sharpen that ambitious streak.”
She looked shocked. “Tell me you know that’s not who I am.”
“Maybe we can help each other.”
Willa looked over her shoulder at the Hollywood sign. “Best friends are made in the quiet battles.”
“Are we back to being just friends, Willa?”
She leaned in close. “Lovers, then.”
“Lovers who are fiercely loyal?” I asked, trying to fathom it. “I’ve never had that with a woman.”
“That’s because you’ve never had me,” she said.