Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
Catch of the Day!
Ainsley’s Hockey Hero.
The Heart Draws a Hunk.
No Mystery Man here.
Ainsley and Parotti the Hottie!
A insley winced at the headlines of the online articles. “I can’t believe it.”
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Her mom’s brow puckered. Her parents were here in Ainsley’s apartment for a late breakfast as they always were after every event. Mom wanted all the gossip. Benson, Ainsley’s stepdad, came for the muffins Mom brought which Ainsley never ate. Too many calories in those things.
She appreciated their support, support they’d shown for as long as she remembered, ever since Mom had married Benson after Ainsley’s real father left when she was six. Benson might be her stepfather, but he was more Dad than her real one had been.
Louie strutted past, the plume of his creamy-colored tail waving like he needed attention. But she couldn’t give her Persian the attention he craved. Not with the way these articles—these photos—had framed last night. All that effort to promote such an important issue, wasted. All those hours starving herself to look good lost in all the noise about how she’d been swept off her feet by one Zac Parotti, and the supposed tug of war between him and Jason Streetley. Ugh. It was enough to make her scream. “Going to the White Night with Jason was such a bad idea.”
“Why?” Mom asked.
Ainsley tapped her phone. “All they’re reporting is me and Zac, and there’s next to nothing about the whole point of the fundraiser.”
“It is unfortunate that people so often prefer to focus on the trivial rather than what’s important.”
Thanks, Mom. “I feel so bad about it all.” So bad that when she’d returned home after the event that she’d made another anonymous donation to the White Night shelter, and had checked the real estate listings for the umpteenth time.
“If it makes you feel any better, the video of you and your dress was amazing.”
Huh? Oh. Well, yes, it was. Even if some greenies had got upset about how she’d been wearing feathers, of all things. She didn’t know what was worse environmentally: wearing real feathers from birds which had been collected but which some people seemed to think went against “animal rights”, or using artificial ones? She was inclined to think the latter—hello, plastic—but opening her mouth on issues like that guaranteed a storm she didn’t need.
Not when the TV execs and Rosie, her agent-publicist, wanted Ainsley to maintain her nice, sweet persona, like she never had a thought about real issues, and only thought about rainbows and cupcakes and four-leaf clovers and saving small-town festivals, just like the characters she portrayed in her movies. At least her new Christmas mystery series would stretch her a little more. Even if it was still a thousand miles off the kind of gritty role she’d really like to sink her teeth into. Which would likely cause her bosses at As The Heart Draws to have kittens. Or scorpions, and kill off her role once and for all. Which, now she thought about it, may not be such a bad idea…
“Ainsley?”
“Oh, sorry Mom. What was the question?”
“You were saying about you and Jason attending the event yesterday and how it wasn’t a good idea.”
That’s right. “Because now everyone thinks we’re some kind of couple. And we’re not.”
“What’s wrong with people thinking that?”
“Because I don’t like him that way. And he’s not a Christian.” His mouth had made that plain. And his roving hands. “And I really feel God is convicting me about going out with non-Christians.” Just like she’d said to Harrison Woods earlier this year when he’d asked Ainsley why Cassie James didn’t want to go out with him. Ainsley’s best guess had turned out to be right, as Cassie had later explained. And her words returned to her often. It was one thing to go out on a date; it was quite another to be seen with someone whose private life might hold questionable things that could turn around and bite someone down the track. She shivered. Like Baden.
“So why not find a Christian guy to go out with?” Dad asked.
“Sure. That’s easy. Do you know how many guys ask me out? None.”
“Oh, honey, that’s because you’re far too pretty for them.”
“It’s because they’re scared of me, Mom. I’ve even had one guy tell me so.” After he’d had one too many shots of Jack Daniels, but still, the fact remained. When people were sloshing alcohol on the table, they were often spilling the truth as well. And apparently, the truth was that she intimidated men. That they couldn’t cope with her fame and her pay checks, their insecurities such that they couldn’t deal with being the lesser-known partner in the relationship. That probably explained why they couldn’t stay in a relationship with her, or why guys didn’t ask her out to begin with. Apparently not all men were intimidated, however, like that sleazy dude who had tried to ask her out last night. He’d obviously had a few too many, which was another no, no on her list. Jason had at least proved valuable then.
“Then why did you go with Jason then?” Her father bit into his blueberry muffin.
“I told you yesterday, remember? The studio basically made him, and because Rosie said it’d been too long since I was seen out with a man.” And an actress known for appearing as the lead for romantic movies and TV shows needed to “show” she had a personal life that supported that. And because she always did what her TV bosses and Rosie suggested, right down to consulting her agent before she got her hair cut, thus had begun a series of showmances and fake-dates for events. She’d yet to find a trustworthy guy she could consider as a romantic partner. None of the guys she’d ever genuinely dated in the past had truly cared for her, not really. And after Baden, she’d learned to mistrust the motives of men. So as soon as she’d started sensing they weren’t clicking or had ulterior motives she’d got in first and dumped them. She was the face of the romantic drama As The Heart Draws , so she wasn’t about to get her butt handed to her. She’d much prefer to do the butt-serving, thank you.
But Rosie had said there were now rumors circulating that she had so many dates because she was looking for new material. “It’s not quite tracking at Taylor Swift levels, Ainsley, and it’s not as if you’re writing songs about bad breakups. But there are questions about whether you’re using these guys for acting purposes, like to find the romantic rush or help with channeling the pain of a breakup.”
“Are you serious?” She would’ve laughed, if she hadn’t wanted to cry. “Didn’t you tell me that you thought I should be going on dates? So you’re saying I can’t win if I’m going on dates and can’t win if I’m not going on any, is that it?”
“I know. People are dumb—”
And Ainsley often felt like she was the dumbest of all, allowing herself to be meekly led by others’ suggestions.
“—but it doesn’t change what they’re saying on the internet. Ainsley, sweetie, you need to find a guy and settle down. Or at least find someone you can date for longer than a week. Three to six months would be good. A year or two would be better.”
“Are you saying I should date someone simply to stop internet rumors?”
“No! Of course not. Except dating someone long term would help your career.”
Which meant it would help her agent’s cut of Ainsley’s career.
“Look, I can probably find someone who’d be happy to date you for a few months.”
“Fake-date me, you mean,” Ainsley had clarified.
“Yes, of course. A business arrangement.”
Her heart shriveled. How cold and clinical and awful. What was wrong with her that nobody wanted to date her? Why couldn’t she find anyone who truly cared?
“Ainsley?”
“Sorry.” Her eyes closed. “I’m just not sure that’s a good idea. I’ve found that most guys don’t share similar values to me.”
Rosie had given a small sigh of exasperation, just like she had when Ainsley had first tried to share that her “good girl” persona stemmed from her Christian faith and convictions.
“We can draw up a contract and say this is what they can and can’t do, so it’s clear from the get-go what they can expect.”
“But who would agree to something like that?”
“Plenty of men.” Rosie reeled off a list of names. “All of them would kill for the exposure dating the great Ainsley Beckett would bring.”
Which meant all of them would have dubious motives, which meant they’d likely prove untrustworthy in other ways as well. She’d been stung by guys and their “tell-alls” before. “What’s wrong with me not going out on dates at all?”
“Oh, Ainsley. You’re such an innocent.”
She hated when she was patronized like that. Condescension always made her feel like someone had pushed her behind the knee, forcing her to stumble. But still, she had to protest a little longer. “If I pretend-date someone that long then I’ll practically be in my mid-thirties by the time a real guy comes along.”
“We’re not talking forever, but it does need to be a few months at least. Six would be ideal.”
Six months spending time with a man who was only into the attention, and not into her? “I don’t feel like I’m comfortable with this. I think I’d prefer to find a guy.” Someone who was a Christian, at least. Surely that had to be a better example to impressionable young girls than the serial dating she’d agreed to in the past. Ugh. She was so weak!
“Well, I know you Ainsley, so let’s say if you don’t find someone in the next month, I’ll be finding someone for you. Okay?”
Ugh. “Okay.” She hated herself.
“So good luck in finding him, and I genuinely hope you do find him soon, and can settle down,” Rosie had said, with enough warmth that Ainsley was inclined to believe her. “Just don’t go having babies too early, know what I mean?”
Oh, she did. When was the last time anyone had seen a pregnant lead actress on a Hallmark show? And her As The Heart Draws character was supposed to stay single on the show another season or two at least. Not that falling pregnant was possible when she couldn’t even find a potential husband because she couldn’t even get a real date.
How was she supposed to find a good Christian guy when all the guys she knew were either married or too scared to go out with her or thought she was promiscuous simply because she was an actress? She was trying to commit her love life to God and do things His way, but that was clocking along so slowly she might be eighty before she finally found a man who wanted to settle down with her.
She’d tried to explain some of this to her mom in the past, but it was messy. Made messier thanks to strained family dynamics due to Mack’s decided lack of interest in women, and her parents’ struggle to come to terms with their son’s lifestyle that was so contrary to what they believed. They loved Mack, and she did too, but they all struggled with the ramifications that were only one reporter away from blowing up big-time. Which was extremely ironic when the man most involved in Mack’s life was the reporter whose job it likely was to report such news.
“Honey.” Her father put down his mug of coffee—another thing Ainsley never drank—and eyed her seriously. “You know we love you, and you know that we believe God has the right man out there for you. So keep trusting Him.”
“Sure.” It’d just be nice if He’d hurry up and show her what to do. Finding a fake-date for several months didn’t seem like it. Not that she’d be sharing any of that conversation with her parents.
Her mother pushed away her plate. Ainsley eyed the remaining blueberry muffin wistfully. But a moment on the lips, forever on the hips, and doubly so for an actress. Which was why her parents would be taking the leftovers away, much to her father’s not-so-private glee. “Now, I’m just going to send that Glam Guru video to Aunty Win. You know she always loves to see you all dressed up.”
“Okay. Tell her I said hi.” Aunty Win was the reason she and her brother had both gotten into theater, before Mack had discovered his tastes leaned closer to set design and production, among other things. Still, their aunt’s roles in 90s sitcoms meant she understood the industry and was always supportive, and more so as Ainsley had gotten roles in recent years. Aunty Win was always a soft place to land, someone Ainsley could be real with and relate to. The fact she owned a property on Thetis Island where they would soon be filming the Hallmark mystery show was just a bonus.
As her mom busied herself with technology, asking Ainsley’s father for his glasses to see, then his help in attaching the video to an email, Ainsley flicked back to the video that the Glam Guru had posted on his Instagram of his favorite looks from White Night. She had lines to rehearse later, but right now she wanted to linger a moment longer in the glamor of last night.
It was gratifying to be included in his top two, even if she’d never score first because of the big names who regularly visited Vancouver, like Blake Lively, Cobie Smulders, and Rachel McAdams. Which actually meant coming in second was pretty good.
She watched the video again, the way the camera zoomed in as she pivoted, the way her look of intensity softened into her usual smile. That had been fun.
In the background she could see other celebrities waiting, including—wait, was that the Zac guy? He’d had his arms crossed, watching her, like he was amused by her or something. Which was weird, as he’d virtually run away from her as soon as Jason flung his arm around her all caveman-like. Maybe he’d thought—like half the world apparently did too—that she and Jason were a thing. She sighed. Which was a shame, as he was nice, and truly had been her hero on the evening, saving her from a fate worse than death—a tumble to infamy down the stairs.
Dad had been stunned when Mom had told him who had saved Ainsley’s dignity. “You mean the Zac Parotti?”
Ainsley had shrugged. “Look, I didn’t know who he was at the time, but I’ve since had half of Canada tell me he’s apparently some hockey star.”
Her dad had groaned. “I don’t know what I did wrong with you so that you don’t know much about hockey. You do remember that Vancouver won a few months ago?”
“Won what?” She’d kept a straight face.
He looked at her a second then chuckled. “Sometimes I forget just how good an actress you can be.”
“Like I could forget the way the city partied for days.”
She’d been in Alberta filming, but the joy had spread to the next province over. People were glad to finally see the Stanley Cup return to a Canadian team.
She glanced below the video, smiling as she recognized some fan names among the comments. Then bit her lip as the comments about her feathers appeared. Oh well. She’d learned long ago that she wasn’t going to please everyone.
She shared the video to her Instagram—a girl had to post regularly to keep a high profile, and fans loved this kind of thing—then allowed an hour for comments, before she’d switch them off. That usually allowed time for her top fans to post something nice, before the bots alerted the trolls to post the negative stuff.
She replied to a few of the comments, then watched the video again, pausing it when she caught a glimpse of Zac in the background.
Her heart skipped a beat. He’d seemed down to earth, especially with that comment about her shoes. Then later, just sticking out his hand like that was normal to be introduced that way, like he wasn’t impressed by her or tongue-tied or looking at her chest or anything.
In fact, in that moment when he caught her, he’d been the perfect gentleman, eyes fixed on hers and nothing else. There’d been a feeling of safety in his arms. His muscly arms, she noted, pinching out the screen to zoom in.
Hmm. With his Tom Cruise looks from his original Top Gun days, the man’s looks were appealing, and his forthright manner was refreshing. If she had to date someone, she could do worse than him. Except…
Her nose wrinkled. He probably wasn’t a Christian, so that was that. Her dad would’ve said something if he was, and if a season ticket holder didn’t know, then there probably wasn’t anything to know.
Dad had mentioned a few other Christian hockey players over the years but never mentioned Zac Parotti as one of them. Which made it clear. God was going to have to find a man for her another way.
* * *
Logan moved close, and Zac swerved out of the way, so Logan thumped the plexiglass instead of him.
“Dude, what is wrong with you?” Drew called.
Logan muttered something and skated off, leaving Zac to exchange glances with Drew and the coach.
“Is there something I need to know about?” Coach asked.
“Nope.”
“Logan got a little ticked at Zac last night when he caught Ainsley Beckett.”
“Caught Ainsley—wait. Are you going out with Ainsley Beckett?”
“No.”
“My wife loves that show she’s on. If ever you see her again, let us know, okay?”
“Sure.” Like that would ever happen.
Drew grinned as they skated to the opposite end, near where Chris was saving shots. “Can you imagine how crazy that would make Logan if you did go out with her?”
His lips twitched. “That’d almost be worth it.”
“Come on. You saw the woman. She would be worth it. She’s hot.”
“And she has a boyfriend, so no can do. Remember?”
Drew dropped a word Zac no longer said, even though he wholeheartedly agreed with the sentiment. It’d be nice to live in a parallel universe where he could date whomever he wanted without worrying about their motives, unlike every other woman he had dated, ever. But he didn’t, so he couldn’t, so he’d remain dateless while trying to figure out how following Jesus was supposed to affect how he conducted relationships. Which he suspected probably meant no sleeping with them on the first date. Or maybe even waiting until they were engaged.
“Parotti!”
He blinked, refocused on the training session. Thank goodness today wasn’t a game day. Last night had messed with his head far more than he realized. Which meant proving to the others here—and himself—that he was just fine, thank you. That no woman was going to steal his laser focus on the prize: scoring as many goals as he could so they could win Lord Stanley’s Cup two years in a row.
By the time he returned to the dressing room, most of the others had changed and were laughing, talking, checking out their phones.
“Hey, look, he’s back.” Nikolaj Zamberg, their backup goalie, gestured him closer. “We saw the clip.”
“What clip?”
Nik showed Zac his phone: Ainsley’s near fall, and Zac’s near-instant save. “Smooth moves, man.”
“Parotti for the win!” Someone else jeered.
“She’s got a boyfriend, and I don’t trespass.”
“Good man,” Chris said.
“Hey, I’d be okay to trespass when she looks like that.” Nik held out his phone again.
This time the clip showed Ainsley in full glam diva mode, the camera swooping in fast then slow, highlighting every perfect feature that had etched into his brain, and chased him through his dreams. He didn’t want her filling his mind like this, so he’d tried to pray it away, but here she was. Again. Looking deep into the camera—into his soul—and looking sultry, before smiling and looking like the girl next door.
“Look, she’s pretty, but she’s not my type, okay?”
“Yeah, cos we’ve all seen over the years that you prefer going out with the ugly ones,” Logan jeered.
There was no way to answer that without Zac coming across as arrogant or cruel, except, “I thought we heard last night how it’s up to all of us to respect women. And that includes how we talk about them in situations like this.”
“Dude, did you learn nothing from that video we did a few years back?” Chris scowled at Logan. “Talk like that one more time and I’m reporting you.”
“Don’t get your panties in a twist.”
Chris stood, the lack of goaltender gear doing nothing to stop the fierce bigness of the man. “Watch your mouth. Don’t speak like that again.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Logan gave a two-finger salute and sauntered away, and immediately the tension in the locker room dropped a hundred notches, even as his teammates’ mutterings continued.
This was so stupid. This tension was no good for team harmony, and so foolish anyway, especially when it all stemmed from an impossibility.
Zac nodded and exited—he had an appointment with his trainer in thirty minutes—and ignored the women screaming his name as he walked with Chris to their cars. “Look, I really don’t want this to escalate. Logan’s clearly got a problem with me, but it’s starting to affect things in there.”
“Which is why you need to say something to the coach.”
“I don’t like to tell tales.”
“If you don’t, I will. Logan’s trying to undermine you.”
“Like he can.”
From Chris’s pinched brow, that comment had come across as more arrogant than he intended. “I don’t mean to sound like a tool. I just mean that people don’t respect Logan now, so why would they pay attention to anything he has to say?”
“You just need to be careful, okay?”
“Sure thing.”
Chris relaxed. “Now, are we still on for dinner tonight?”
Dinner at the Thomas residence followed by an online Bible study chat. “Sure.”
“Good. See you at my place at six.”
Zac nodded, pivoting as his name was called.
“Dude, you forgot your phone,” Drew called, hurrying to give it to him.
“Huh?”
“It was on the bench.”
“That’s weird. I thought I had it with me.”
“You got it now then.”
“Thanks.”
“Gotta go.” Drew winked and rushed away.
Okay, well that was weird too. Drew normally liked to shoot the breeze, but maybe he also had an appointment to get to or something.
Just like Zac did tonight. When he’d meet with the other guys who were part of the Northwest Ice online Bible study group, and maybe get some clues and figure out just what he could do about this stubborn attraction to a woman he’d met last night.