Chapter 1 #2
Holt crossed his arms. “Subtle is risky, Stone. And the heroine? You think people will understand why she had a nervous breakdown during her biggest match?”
“Subtle is my style.” Wade had glossed over details and hoped he could get away with it. “Not every detail has to be front and center. The audience gets it, or they don’t.”
Holt frowned at the stragglers drifting toward the exit, their shoulders slumping. “We’ll wait on feedback. But this needs edits. Without a clear connection to her background, the message falls flat.”
Wade allowed a nod. He knew how to deepen the heroine’s story and expose her raw scars.
But that wasn’t just time-consuming—it was territory he wasn’t prepared to revisit.
He should’ve fought harder for the script’s emotional depth.
Should’ve pushed the actress to tap into her character’s pain.
But exposing her pain too closely might dredge up his memories, ones he’d prefer to leave buried.
“Depends on what needs to be edited, I guess.” He’d give him a different approach. “But I can’t promise I’ll add more than necessary.”
“Let’s talk this afternoon.” Holt shook his hand before heading toward the theater.
Discomfort coiled Wade’s stomach. Not knowing what to do was easier than knowing what had to be done but not wanting to do it. Vanishing from the press was his best option for now. His phone vibrated. Linc texted that their meeting venue had been moved.
Wade stifled a groan. Unsure he was fit to mentor anyone, he sure needed a distraction to get back on track.
Unfortunately, discussing the next steps with an up-and-coming actor couldn’t erase the preview debacle, and neither did the two meetings after—one with the casting team and another with the marketing team.
Three hours later, he retreated to his office.
The screen lit up, his phone vibrating with messages that spiked the faintest headache.
He swiped past them. Then a smile broke through his fatigue.
A missed call from Mom and another from Dad.
Most of the texts were from his siblings.
Seven out of ten had texted to wish him luck at the preview or to ask how it had gone.
No matter what Hollywood threw his way, he had a fortress in the family.
Ten of them, including Wade, were adopted.
The youngest, who came as a surprise, bumped the family from an even ten to a chaotic, perfect eleven.
Then his phone rang. He dismissed the call.
He wasn’t ready to open the preview’s wounds in the office.
His brothers were his best friends, and his evening calls to his siblings were sacred—Thursdays and Fridays—as were the Sunday check-ins with Mom and Dad, a system that tethered him to his roots.
Monday mornings had been when he spoke with his best friend, Albert.
He’d never hear Albert’s voice again, a reality that hit him like a physical ache, tightening his throat.
A knock interrupted his thoughts. Novi strode in, holding a box of comment cards.
“What’s the verdict?” He ran a hand over his face, bracing himself.
She glanced at the box, then at him. “How about we go over these later?”
His throat tightened. “Good plan.”
She set the box on the side table he used for spare scripts, notes, and trinkets from past productions.
Without demanding his time, she walked out and closed the door behind her.
Maybe he hadn’t missed the mark as badly as it seemed in the theater, but he wouldn’t know until he forced himself to read those cards.
At least he’d hired the right manager and agent.
He met Novi, an immigrant from Guatemala, at a premiere event—a less formal opportunity for actors to meet and connect with agents and managers.
While he could’ve selected plenty of experts, her authenticity, something beyond her eager enthusiasm, appealed.
He’d had her trained to be his manager too.
The fewer people for him to add to his agenda the better.
She was more advanced now at her job than she’d been thirteen years ago.
His phone rang again. Might as well answer. His family would keep calling until he gave them something. He grinned, answering with his usual joke. “Gianni’s Pizza, how may I help you?”
Silence. Then came a clipped, professional tone. “May I speak with Wade Stone, please?”
Wade blinked and checked the caller ID. An unknown number. How did a stranger get his private number? “This is he.”
“This is Guy Rhodeman, Mr. Albert Khumalo’s attorney.”
The words hit like a gut punch. It still hadn’t fully sunk in—Albert was gone. Just three weeks ago, his best friend died so suddenly. Wade’s grip on the phone tightened.
“Is it possible you could come to my office at ten thirty on Tuesday morning?”
A meeting with an attorney. Albert hadn’t told him he had an attorney, but of course, it made sense—Albert had a seven-month-old daughter, Bella.
Wade could still see her tiny face, the tyke cradled in her aunt Claire’s arms, innocent eyes wide at her father’s funeral.
Claire’s light-green and red-rimmed eyes haunted him too.
She must think he didn’t care, that he hadn’t thought about them every day since.
The ache he’d suppressed all these days spread, gripping his core and exposing the preview debacle as trivial.
Despite him avoiding her after their shattering, unexpected kiss at her graduation party and the intimate moment they’d shared while dancing at Albert’s wedding, a magnetic pull between them still drew him to her.
But giving in was a choice, and he had enough self-control to avoid misleading her or any woman who might fall for him.
“You’re still there?” Guy’s voice broke through the speakers.
“Uh… yeah.”
“Albert mentioned you and Claire in his will. We can discuss the details in my office. Can you make it Tuesday?”
“Tuesday. What day was today?” Time blurred between meetings and previews and now this. “Four days from now?”
“Yes. It won’t take long.”
“I’ll be there.” He didn’t have to think twice where Albert and his family were concerned. With a promise to email his address, Guy ended the call.
Wade rubbed his hands on his jeans, trembling. Why did Albert’s attorney want to see him? It didn’t matter why.
Dead or alive, Albert had been like a brother.
Whenever they called each other with a crisis, the other dropped everything, no questions asked.
Albert was his only close friend. Having so many siblings as best friends hadn’t left Wade much room to spread his wings in friendships.
He was friendly, that came with his job as an actor and businessman, but he took a long time to warm up to people who hadn’t been in his circle for years.
What about Bella? And Claire?
He’d promised himself he’d be there for them. Yet he’d let work swallow him whole, as though as long as he kept his distance, none of it was real. But the movie deadlines and other demands now faded into the background like ghosts he didn’t need to chase anymore.