2. Oliver
OLIVER
Ibarely made it home before the gates were swarmed with the lowlifes of Hollywood.
Shouting, pointing their cameras. Hurling insults and innuendos.
Desperate for a reaction or “the shot” they could sell today for the rags’ pages tomorrow.
I was grateful for the thick iron bars and the security stopping them from getting to me.
Inside my bungalow, I sat down, letting my head fall back.
I lived modestly, by Hollywood standards.
I had bought this place with my first big payday.
I liked the privacy. The secluded pool and private gym on the grounds.
The house I grew up in would have fit in my living room now, but this place was small compared to many.
I kept it simple and open. Nothing over the top, but it was comfortable and spacious, with plush sofas and a massive TV over the rarely used fireplace.
The woman who’d helped me decorate used blues, grays, and whites, with lots of metal and glass to give it a masculine look.
I didn’t really care—it was simply a place for privacy. The only spot I could be alone.
The kitchen was fitted out with everything a chef could want, and my housekeeper liked it.
She cooked my meals and left them for me to reheat when I was home.
If I was away on location, she kept the place clean and made sure I was stocked up when I returned.
The microwave and I were fast friends. The fridge I liked, with its round ice cubes and cold water.
The stove and I rarely interacted unless I wanted scrambled eggs.
Those I could make without burning—most of the time.
I groaned, thinking about having to call Lillian and tell her I would be away for the foreseeable future. She enjoyed the cooking part.
I flipped open the file Annie had given me and scanned my instructions with a low laugh.
Annie meant it when she said I would be invisible.
The driver picking me up under the cover of darkness would be taking me to Vegas.
From there, I had a red-eye flight to Toronto.
I’d be able to escape the cameras and the questions far easier in Vegas than at LAX.
She’d arranged a rental car for me and included the information for the Airbnb I’d be staying at.
It was the top floor of a duplex not far off the main street of Richton.
I was given a combination to get in the door, and the owner of the property had included a helpful list of places to eat and shop at.
It didn’t fill a page—and I recognized some of the names.
I flung an arm over my eyes as memories I kept locked down sprang free. Growing up in a small town. A chance trip into the big city of Toronto, where I was discovered and offered a part in a TV series. Thrilled to be leaving the rural spot behind me.
Even though it meant leaving the girl I loved.
I had promised I would return for her.
It had been the start of all the promises I would break.
With a groan, I stood, banishing the thoughts.
It was the past. I had heard she, too, left Richton, something she’d wanted to do as badly as I had.
We had both moved on, and at least I wouldn’t have to face that ghost. To be honest, I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing her married, with kids, settled down.
She probably never even thought of me anymore, although deep down, I hoped she did.
God knew there would be enough other ghosts to haunt me in that little town.
I blinked in the early morning sun of Toronto as I navigated the heavy traffic on the 401.
My escape had gone well, thanks to Annie and her plans.
I had gotten through the Vegas airport quickly and had hidden in the first-class lounge until I got on the flight.
The older man seated next to me only cared about his snacks, free drinks, and bemoaning his losses, not who he was sitting beside, and scarcely even glanced my way.
The Toronto airport was too busy for anyone to notice me, especially with my baseball hat pulled low, and the girl at the counter didn’t even blink when I gave my name.
I had to admit, it was pleasant for a change.
Traffic thinned out once I was out of Toronto, and all too soon, Richton was up ahead.
I drove slowly down Main Street, observing the changes.
And the things that remained the same. The bank, the small grocery store.
The post office and liquor store. The flower boxes on the side of the road—I recalled those overflowing with blooms all summer, the small group of volunteers in the town tending to them religiously. My mother had been part of that group.
I noticed a new restaurant where the Sandwich Shop used to be. The sign, Kind of a Big Dill, made me chuckle. It was cute, and I would have to eat there one day. The new, expanded hardware store seemed busy enough for this time of day. Apparently, home renos and gardening were a hit here.
With a sigh, I turned off the street and down to Sand Avenue, pulling up in front of the house where I would be staying.
It was a two-story place, the side steps no doubt the way to my entrance.
Brick and stucco, it was well maintained, with a fenced yard out back and a long driveway that led to a garage.
It looked peaceful and quiet, which, in retrospect, was exactly what I needed.
I drove in, keeping close to the side, and got out of the car, stretching.
Between the upheaval yesterday, the long flight, and the drive, I was tired and planned on going upstairs and to bed for a while.
I pulled my suitcase from the trunk and headed toward the stairs, stopping when a voice came from behind me.
“Hello. You must be my new tenant.”
I froze at the lilting voice. The inflection in the simple words.
I knew that voice. I’d know it anywhere.
I turned, nothing preparing me for the woman standing a few feet away, her long golden hair blowing in the light breeze.
She still had a band of freckles across her nose and scattered on her cheeks.
The softest green eyes I had ever seen. Gone were the chubby cheeks of youth, replaced by high cheekbones on her face.
She was dressed in jeans and a sweater that hung off one shoulder, showing a birthmark I had forgotten.
But seeing it brought back memories. Kissing it.
Teasing it with my tongue as I explored her. As we explored each other.
She was curvy in all the right places, having matured into a beautiful woman.
And she was staring at me, a frown forming a vee between her eyes. I stepped toward her, unsure and cautious. She caught her lip between her teeth, an action so familiar after all these years that it made my chest ache. She always did that when uncertain.
I pulled off my hat and my sunglasses, meeting her gaze. Her friendly expression turned shocked, and she stepped back.
“Hello, Kassie,” I murmured.
“You,” she hissed. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Well, this was an interesting start to my break.