Chapter Nine - Blaire
CHAPTER NINE
Blaire
Have I had a few hiccups since leaving my home in Los Angeles? Undoubtedly, yes. But I’m out of my rancid clothes and freshly showered, my lovely little green room is a safe space from all that testosterone around here, and Lacey is on her way to pick me up.
A more thrilling task can finally begin. ‘Operation Find my Mountain Studs’ has officially commenced.
And this mission starts as all good missions should: by squeezing into leather pants.
I button the tight black leather pants around my waist and slip on a linen sleeveless blouse that looks simple and conservative in the front but dips low, revealing my tanned back. It’s understated for Los Angeles, but likely a bit adventurous for Solace Springs. I finish the look by slipping black Prada cowboy boots under the leather pant cuffs.
I grab my pale blue Chanel clutch and head out the garden door.
As much as I want to resent staying here, the place is paradise on earth. Wide open plains stretch out to jagged mountains. Every view looks like it’s been expertly picked out by location scouts to serve as the backdrop for some moody romantic western. It’s the kind of place that I imagine myself living in some alternate reality. I’d let my hair grow long and spend the morning planting vegetables that I’d actually be able to tend, without worrying where in the world I might need to work the next month.
That will never be me, even if I wanted it to be. But at least I get to play pretend for a little.
I scan the property as I walk to the dirt driveway, where Lacey said she’d pick me up. I’ve managed to avoid the guys since I finished my chores and I’d like to keep that streak going.
Lacey’s old blue Corvette rumbles up the driveway. It was our Gram’s old car, and it fills me with a pang of nostalgia. For a moment, I wonder if it will be Gram smoking a cigarette in the driver’s seat.
“Settling in nicely?” Lacey cocks an eyebrow as she reaches over and unlatches the passenger door.
“Let’s just say I’m ready for the honkiest-tonkiest bar you’ve got for me,” I say, sliding in next to her.
Lacey shakes her head laughing. “Be careful with those words, Blaire Evans. The people of Solace Springs can’t handle much more from America’s sweetheart.”
I know Lacey chose perfectly as soon as I step through the door. The Saddle is a Solace Springs’ classic. I’ve heard it referenced a dozen times by other people but have never been myself. The old wooden interior is simple but charming. Wooden booths line the edges of the tight space, but the dancefloor and stage are the real highlights. The floor is scuffed and well-worn as soon as the dancefloor begins, and it’s obvious why. There are about five couples line dancing to the band that plays on the stage behind them. The sounds of their cowboy boots hitting the floor are almost as loud as the music.
Lacey heads for the bar and I follow her, trying to glance casually around me to see if anyone notices me, but luckily, people are too absorbed in their own Friday night. Solace Springs never gives me any trouble when it comes to my celebrity status. Sure, they might not like me for other reasons. But for some reason, they don’t make a big deal like the rest of the world. And I’m hoping tonight it stays that way.
“Two beers, an order of bacon cheese fries, cheesy tots, and two burgers,” Lacey says before she looks back at me. “Anything else?”
I open my mouth to refuse and ask for a salad, but think better of it. I have no fittings or red carpet events to attend tomorrow. I’m going to eat a damn burger.
“Sounds good.” I take out my wallet. “But let me pay. It’s the least I can do.”
She shrugs. “I won’t say no to that freshly minted Hollywood money.”
I laugh as I hand over my card. Lacey makes me feel at ease because she’s never pretended that we’re anything we’re not.
“Okay, B, now the most pressing order of business,” she squeezes my shoulder as we make our way to an empty booth with our beers. “Is Mika Lane as sexy as he looks?”
I bite my lip, debating what to do here. I’ve been refreshing our names in my search bar every so often just to see if any news on a possible breakup is out. Nothing so far.
I want to tell her, but it’s kind of like showing how the sausage is made. Once I admit just how fake Hollywood can be, then she’ll see it everywhere. But when I hesitate, I wonder if I’m protecting Lacey or myself from revealing just how fake the world I’m a part of is.
“Ugh, well…” I start .
“I knew it.” She snickers and takes a sip of beer.
I cock my head at her, waiting for an explanation.
She swallows and laughs. “How are you the one that made it as a big actress? You can’t hide a damn emotion on your face.”
“I-” I start to protest, but instead I start laughing.
“I could tell you and Mika were bullshit all the way from here. You never looked remotely interested in him in any of the pictures or videos.”
I sigh in relief. “You have no idea how good it is to hear that. Everyone has been so obsessed with this relationship and I’m here wondering if real love exists at all. Because if people get so excited about my relationship with a man I’ve only ever kissed when hundreds of cameras are there to capture it, then I’m not sure I trust anyone’s take on the matter.”
“No. I know real love when I see it.” She shakes her head. “And that was not it.”
“He’s a perfectly nice guy.” I shrug. “But we both grew up as child actors. It’s like trying to save a drowning person by throwing another drowning person next to them.”
“Mm,” Lacey looks reflective now as she observes me. “And is that why you came back here? Because you feel like you’re drowning?”
I take a big breath. “Wow, Lace, I’m barely two sips into this beer and we’ve already covered dick and desperation.”
“Dick and desperation.” She grins. “Sounds like my memoir.”
I laugh. “I’ll write the follow-up,” I say, lifting my pint glass in cheers. “Dick and Desperation: The Sequel.”
Our glasses clink, but she looks at me with skeptical eyes.
“Come on B, how desperate can you really be?” She says before taking a long drink.
I swallow and audibly hum in approval at the fizzy refreshing sip. Damn, it’s been so long since I’ve had a nice cold beer.
“I’ll tell you exactly how desperate,” I wince. “I’m out here risking my own safety by being in public without bodyguards because I’m hoping to find three guys that I’m obsessed with but have only ever talked to on the internet and, to make matters worse, have actually blocked me.”
Lacey chokes on her drink and covers her mouth to prevent herself from spitting all over the table. Her choking eventually turns into laughing.
“I’m sorry. What?” She finally composes herself enough to ask me.
“I like to meet people on the internet. It’s a thing.” I shrug. “So I joined a chatroom and I got along with three guys in it. I don’t know where they live in Wyoming exactly, but somewhere nearby here because they like to go hiking at all the local mountains. We’ve been talking for a really long time and there’s a part of me that feels like maybe…”
My cheeks are red hot now. It’s one thing to admit I met someone on the internet. It’s totally different to admit that there are three men I met on the internet.
“Maybe there’s something real between us.”
“Damn,” Lacey says. Her face is hard to read. “That’s…”
“Desperate?” I offer.
She offers me a soft smile and shakes her head. “No, B. It’s sentimental. More sentimental than you usually are, I’ll be honest.”
“Yeah,” I nod. “Sentimental isn’t my thing. I know it’s a long shot. I guess a part of me is hoping I’ll see them and just know.”
“So you really have no idea who they are?” Lacey asks.
I shake my head. “Nope, but let me know if you know three guys who love to spend time in the mountains.”
Before Lacey can respond, a tall thin man appears at the end of our booth. He looks around my age, maybe a bit older.
“Evening ladies,” he tips his head in my direction. “Would you be kind enough to join a guy like me for the next dance?”
Lacey kicks me under the table, and her message is clear. For all we know, this could be one of my internet boyfriends. He’s not necessarily noticeable with a plain face and a casual blue t-shirt, but he doesn’t have any glaring red flags. And I came here with the full expectation that I might not be physically attracted to my internet crushes at first, anyway. That doesn’t change my interest in them.
“Yeah, sure.” I smile politely and slide out of the booth.
He shakes my hand firmly. “Wyatt,” he says, but before I can answer, he is taking my outstretched hand and dragging me towards the dancefloor.
Okay, not a great start. But maybe I’m misunderstanding him.
The band is playing a sped up version of a country song I recognize from the radio. The dancefloor has gotten even more full of couples seamlessly doing the two-step. It’s been a while, but Gram made sure Lacey and I knew how to “dance like cowgirls” as she would say.
But Wyatt doesn’t ask me if I know how and instead he pulls me in tight against him. If I’m expecting to feel a spark, then this is not it. In fact, it’s whatever the opposite of a spark is. A damp dull thud. His hands are clammy as they find their way to my bare back.
I look up at him to see what his intentions are with that bold hand placement, but he’s not even looking at me. Instead, his eyes glance nervously behind me.
I turn to see what he’s looking at and notice a group of guys with their phones out, waving their fists in the air like Wyatt has just crossed a finish line.
My heart drops. That explains why he didn’t even ask me my name. He knows who I am, and this is just a game to him. I thought the people of Solace Springs wouldn’t treat me like a freak show. But things change and this town doesn’t seem to be on my team anymore.
I step back to get out of his slimy grip, but instead of letting me go, he grips me harder.
“What the hell?” I lift my hands off of him to try to push him away.
“Please,” Wyatt looks at me now. “My friends bet me a hundred bucks that you wouldn’t dance with me for a whole song.”
I push to get away again but he doesn’t budge. In fact, I think he’s locked his fingers together behind my back.
“I’m not some bet, you ass-”
But before I can finish, Wyatt is splayed out on the ground, covering his head with his arms in a defensive position.
I do a double-take trying to understand what the hell just happened.
Colt is standing tall next to me. His shoulder brushes mine and I hate how just that small contact feels like the sky at a 4 th of July picnic. Now, that’s a spark,
But I sober up immediately when I see his face. He’s staring down at Wyatt like he’s a cockroach he needs to stomp out.
“Colt,” I grab his forearm to stop him as he takes a step forward. “It’s fine. Just leave it.”
His dark eyes turn to me, rage twisting his usually placid face into a scowl. And despite that, he still looks so damn handsome.
“It’s not fucking fine.” He says darkly.
I open my mouth to protest, but movement over his shoulder catches my attention.
Oh god. Did I just trigger a bar fight?
I step to the side to see what we’re dealing with. It’s not a fight, though. It couldn’t possibly be called that because one party clearly has the upper hand. Briggs’ giant stature hovers over the guys who just had their phones out to capture Wyatt and me on camera. His hand is lifted over their heads as they jump up and try to grab something from it. His other hand blocks off one of them from getting to Reese. Meanwhile, Reese is on the other side of Briggs, going through a phone. I look back up at Briggs’ hand. Phones. That’s what is in his hand.
Maybe they’re deleting the photos or videos of me, but maybe they’re not. I don’t pay them to protect me, so I can’t guarantee there would be a damn reason for them to care enough to create this much chaos.
I look between Colt, Briggs, and Reese and the mayhem that’s erupted. It’s all because of a stupid decision by me.
Embarrassment floods through me, making my skin hot. Why can’t I just take care of myself for once in my life?
I look back at Colt, who now has his cowboy boot pressing Wyatt’s arm to the ground. The same arm that just held me against him. Wyatt looks up with pure fear in his eyes.
“What the hell is happening?” Lacey comes to my side.
This seems to snap Colt out of it. He shoves Wyatt’s arm away with his boot.
“When a lady says no, she means no,” Colt sneers down at him and turns away.
“Look at her shirt!” One of the men who is being corraled by Briggs and Reese shouts. “That ain’t no proper lady!”
“What was that?” Reese says as he holds their phones over a pitcher of beer.
“I mean, uh,” the man stutters.
“Not good enough,” Reese says with finality and drops the phones into the pitcher.
He paces away from them, leaving them fighting each other to fish their phones out. He nods to the door.
“Now let’s get the hell out of here.”