Chapter 1
Ellie watched the scenery through the window of the backseat, long stretches of swaying gold and fields of green. The pastures were dotted with livestock, hundreds, maybe thousands of them.
She couldn’t remember going such a distance by car without spotting even one human, yet just as the thought struck her, Ellie spotted a man plowing the far end of his field on a tractor.
The farmer spun a look over one shoulder as their town car passed, pinched the rim of his hat, and nodded in their direction.
The rear windows were tinted enough that she couldn’t be seen, but Ellie couldn’t help but nod in return.
In LA, you could barely get from one side of the street to another without bumping into dozens of people.
Here, you probably couldn’t bump into someone if you tried.
Similarly, while her hometown was packed with structures—high rises, restaurants, shopping centers at every turn—here, well, let’s just say one couldn’t stroll to their favorite deli or café.
Ellie felt like Dorothy after the twister; she was definitely not in Los Angeles anymore.
She let out a long, dread-infused sigh. She didn’t want to be stuck in this ghost town of a place away from everyone she loved.
Lately, hanging out with her friends, as self-absorbed as they might be, was the only thing keeping her sane, and now she’d be separated from them for heaven knew how long.
"I know this is hard for you, baby,” her dad said from the passenger side of the backseat, “but I hope you understand that this is what’s best for everyone.”
For everyone…that was the problem, wasn’t it?
She didn’t get to make life decisions based on what would be best for her, not as a child, not as a young adult, and most definitely not as a single, twenty-four-year-old woman.
It was always about the people who would be affected by her decisions—fans, casting agents, directors, and her managers, of course, one of which was her very own dad, who’d been handling her career since she auditioned for her first commercial.
Ellie sucked in a long, slow breath, willing it to stop her from lashing out. Dad would only use it against her, tell her how right the tabloids had been—she really was out of control, and it was a good thing she was headed to rehab.
“And in all fairness,” Dad continued, “you're the one who got arrested and put your movie deal in danger. If Geneva says this is what has to be done to save your image, then we best believe it.”
Ellie traced the handle of her designer bag, still unable to believe she’d been sentenced to such a fate, and that her dad and Geneva were so insistent she go along with it. Ellie didn't need a rehabilitation center; she needed an escape from the demands of her high-profile life.
"It sucks, okay?” her dad said. “I admit it, but we’re simply trying to save your reputation here."
"By confirming the rumors that I'm some drug addict who's lost control of her life? I took one stupid pill for the first time after saying no all the other times, and yet I’m the one who got busted.”
“A pill that could have been traced with fentanyl. Your first time could have been your last. Don’t you get that?”
Ellie sobered as she thought back on the class she’d been forced to take, the tear-filled testimonials about the dangers of such pills. Not that she’d been totally ignorant to it, but she ran in a very different crowd. Who knew that one of Bree’s suppliers would end up being an undercover cop?
“What made you do something so reckless?” her dad persisted. “Do you really want out that bad?”
The answer struck her with chilling certainty. Yes, she did.
When she didn’t speak up, Dad continued.
"Listen, the arrest aside, you’ve been spending a lot of time in the party scene, and we’ve got the tabloid pics to prove it.
How else can we salvage your reputation?
You'll be blacklisted in Hollywood for breaking a contract for a role most women would give their right arm for. But if we can put a twist on this…” He waved a hand through the air and squinted his eyes.
“We’ll create new headlines: ‘Ellie Blaire—overcomer—has cleaned up her act and is ready for the big screen once more.’” He shrugged. “Everyone loves a redemption story.”
Ellie kept her face flat.
“Once you’ve put your time in, you’ll be ready to get back into it."
Ellie groaned. “I don't know why you think this is some phase, Dad. I don't want to get back into it. I'm sick of doing this. I just want to have a normal life."
"Well, now you sound like your mother talking. Just let all your talent go to waste while you go off, make babies, and live some blasé life."
Ellie glared at him. "Blasé to you,” she corrected. “Luxury to me.”
“You think your mom’s living in luxury despite the fact that she abandoned her firstborn?”
Ellie ignored the low-blow. It wasn’t Mom’s fault that her ties to Ellie made it nearly impossible to give Ellie’s half-siblings a normal life.
Mom remarried shortly after the divorce; she and Brent had four kids together after that.
And with every year that went by, Mom grew more distant and more protective of her new family.
She’d never agreed to put Ellie in acting; she didn’t want her kids to be in the spotlight like that.
She was protecting the only ones she could.
Ellie understood. And the fact that Dad had a dangerous history of his own lessened the sting; Mom was probably avoiding him more than she was Ellie.
Still, part of her wished she could do what Mom had done. She wanted her name to swiftly fade away like a shooting star—making room for new ones while she slipped into the shadows. A deep longing burned through her. “I don't know if I'll ever be able to enjoy anonymity now."
"Absolutely, you won't,” Dad said proudly. “I made darn sure of that. And so did Geneva, for that matter. You should be grateful."
Grateful. That line got her every time, didn’t it?
Had her feeling guilty for not loving all the things that came along with a career like hers, even if she’d stopped wanting the career after she turned thirteen.
Wanted to leave Dad too, move in with Mom and Brent, and watch her younger half-siblings grow up.
A familiar sense of pressure closed in on her, heavy from every angle.
It was the exact pressure she’d attempted to ease while taking that one little pill.
And yes, Ellie had considered that she could wind up being one of the unlucky ones who had a bad reaction or got a laced drug, but even that—when compared to the mounting weight on her shoulders—hadn’t seemed all that bad.
Even in recollection, it scared her. The realization that she’d sunk to such a low.
Ellie’s chin quivered as tears welled in her eyes. This sentence to the rehab clinic was sure to be a pain, but even worse, she dreaded life beyond the served time; whether she was in the program or out, Ellie was trapped. Trapped in a life she didn’t want anymore.
"Aw, come on, baby." Her dad patted her back. "You like acting, remember? You used to beg me to take you to the casting calls so you could show them what you got. You’d practice your lines for days. We’d do it together, just you and me."
Ellie turned a sharp look at her dad. It was like they were looking at the same picture and seeing two entirely different things. "Yes, I wanted to be on TV, and you helped me get there, but I was eight years old, Dad.”
“I helped you well beyond that,” he said.
“Yes, but I don’t want it anymore. Do you want the same things you wanted when you were eight? Would you like to be held to the hopes and dreams you had back then for the rest of your life? Forced by some dictator dad managing your career without you in mind?"
"You were an adult when you signed your latest contract."
Ellie shook her head. "Barely, and that was six years ago.
And why did you insist I sign an eight-year contract the day I turned eighteen?
I was still a teenager. If you had been thinking about my best interest, you would have warned me against that.
Even now, you should be helping me get out of it, not pressuring me to stay in it. "
"I don't want you to have any regrets, Ell. What kind of father would I be if I let you throw your career away because you're getting bored with it?"
Bored with it? That’s all she needed to hear. Her mind whirled with possibilities, routes she could take to free herself in a different way. Perhaps with the help of this forced distance from her dad, she could start entertaining those routes.
As soon as Ellie entered the program, she'd be forced to relinquish her phone, leaving her without access to the outside world besides an occasional Zoom call if her facilitator okayed it. Perhaps Ellie could ask the facilitator not to okay calls with Dad.
She’d begged her manager Geneva to come along, and though she’d promised to consider it, Ellie doubted the Hollywood fashionista would be willing to give up her posh lifestyle for time on some Montana ranch.
“This really is going to be the perfect place for you, Ell,” Dad said, his tone chipper once more.
“Your character in How Our Story Ends is a country girl. They’re shooting it on a Dallas cattle ranch, even.
You’ll be getting right into the western spirit and in touch with your upcoming character, Melody. ”
A hot streak of desperation tore through her center; Ellie had hoped to get through to Dad during the drive. To help him understand how badly she wanted out. But here they were, just miles from their destination, and he was insisting she finish out her contract.
Ellie gritted her teeth. Perhaps if she hinted at the course of action she wanted to take, he’d sing a different tune. She scrutinized the words before she said them, already knowing how they would land. This was more than mere words; it was a threat—one Dad wouldn’t dismiss so easily.