Chapter 2
CHAPTER
TWO
Stephan
T he city of Emporia, mecca of movie magic, spreads out before me from my home in the hills.
My agent talks as I sip my bourbon, and I cut her off. “I don’t want that role. I want some meat, something good. Fuck, I’ll even do theater.”
Clea bounces her foot as she sits cross-legged on the cream leather sofa opposite mine. Clea sighs into her seltzer. If we weren’t such good friends, I’d fire her ass. But the woman is not only loyal, she’s a shark.
“You know, Stephan, most actors look at theater as something to be revered.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
She pins me with a look. “I’m not here to talk about the role or what you want next. I’m here about your favorite co-star.”
“Felicity? ”
“She wants the next set of fluffy roles?—”
“Felicity Fine can go?—”
“She wants to. And she wants to use these films. She’s ambitious, too.” Clea taps a finger against her glass.
“I’m aware.”
“You slept with her way back, and you both have huge fanbases. But you’re getting a reputation. You drink too much. You’ve been arrested for driving under the influence?—”
“One drink?—”
“And one line too many?” She starts ticking things off on her hand. “There’s the Omega you had the affair with who was meant to mate with that politician?—”
“She hated him. They weren’t a match.” We weren’t a match either, but it was dangerous fun.
“She was an Omega?—”
“No one,” I tell her firmly, “cares about that stupid hierarchy here like they do in high society.” Like they do on fucking Sabine. “True mates happen, but it’s not all by the damn book. The Council?—”
“Image matters.”
“Is that all?” I ask, going for bored.
“Felicity wants certain things.”
My stomach plummets. “Like what?”
“You to do the final movies in the series.” Clea flashes a smile. “You’re Asher St. James and Felicity Fine. Money in the bank. But she really wants a career push, a change of roles.”
I pour more bourbon in my glass. “So tell her to back out and take on other roles. Like I want to do. ”
“I’m not her agent. Felicity wants your agreement to do those films and then wants you to step back to give her limelight time,” Clea says, standing.
I snatch up my drink and stand as well. “But you know her needs. She asked you for, what? Hiatus from me? I’ll do that , but not the films. Take that back to her.”
“You want meatier roles, right? She has dirt and wants things her way, so this is what we do.” Clea smooths her black dress. “Postpone the movies till next summer. Announce you need some personal time, thinking time, attrition time this summer for all those bad behaviors. That’s just built-in press for you. You’re from Sabine, right?”
“Yeah, so?” My aunt wants me to visit and, knowing her, she has likely told the entire island I’m coming back. Which I have no plans to do.
“Go for the summer, say you’re taking a break and laying low because of some things you aren’t proud of.”
Anger flares. “Why the fuck would I do that?”
“Because like I said, Felicity wants more limelight and she has dirt on you, Stephan. She wants you to do those films, then you step back and let her broken heart?—”
“One fucking date, Clea. Nothing’s broken but a nail.”
She goes on as if I never spoke. “If you don’t give Felicity that chance, then she’ll announce you not only broke her heart, but that you did it after getting her pregnant.”
“That I what ?” I nearly choke on the word and keep away from memories that start to crowd.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll get things sorted.” Clea takes a breath. “I can get you out of the films later, but you have to take the summer, get the fuck out of Emporia so she owns it. No statements from you, nothing. You have some contrition time away on the lovely Sabine, she can wallow in her pain. I’ll make sure your career grows as well. She’ll just have first crack at all the gossip pages. I can hire a PR coach for her. Give her all the gossip pages, her way.”
“Absolutely not. I won’t be blackmailed.” I grind my teeth, then I look up.
“Really? Because the thing is, Felicity must know someone from Sabine. Because she knows .”
A darkness spreads through me, and I don’t move. “Knows what, Clea?”
“What do you think, Stephan?”
I nod slowly. “Be very specific in what it is she knows.”
I listen to what she tells me, all in hushed tones and heartbreak. She knows my past—the part of me I’ve been trying to forget.
Fuck. My skin starts to crawl. It’s not Clea repeating it that bothers me; Clea knows. Some of it. But Felicity—fuck knows how she got her grubby fingers on any of this—is a different matter. But I shut the memories of that part of my past down.
“How do you know she hasn’t said a word?”
“It would be everywhere.”
Okay, okay, how bad could this be? “It’ll blow over.”
“This is up there, Stephan, and stuff like that doesn’t blow over. Your past will be dug all the way up. Full exhumation.” She goes to the bar and adds gin to her seltzer. “They’ll talk to the family, to enemies, so-called friends.”
“This is Emporia. ”
“They like scandal just as much as they do on Sabine. You know that.”
I shrug.
“Pretending this is nothing might work on someone who doesn’t know you, but…” She comes right up to me. “I know you.”
“It’s a sad fucking story, at the heart.” I grip my glass. “And it’s ancient history. I’ll survive and get roles.”
A film of filth sticks to me at that.
“Stephan, I’ll be real. Others out there don’t know who you are, not really. Just a really pretty face from Sabine who can act. The Monarch won’t be happy.”
No, she’ll be pissed.
In fact, this very much is something that could kill my career dead in the water and no second coming to be seen, courtesy of one old woman.
“You know how powerful she is. Sabine may be enough to distract her during the Season, at least, but since you’ve been on her shit-list before, you’ll be smack dab in the line of fire if you cause a stir again. She’s the one who’ll bring you down.”
I take a swallow. “Only if this gets out,” I clarify, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. “Can we trust Felicity?”
“I’ve got ironclad NDAs ready,” Clea says. “I’ve got lawyers and some sharp-clawed Alphas ready to have words with our starlet. She hasn’t breathed a word of her so-called relationship or break-up yet. She wants what you do, meatier roles, and sympathy for her going through an emotional wringer will make women empathize and men want to pick up the pieces.”
Her words sink in .
“She’ll use you to get there.” Clea’s serious gaze cuts into me. “So we should control how. She’ll only talk if you don’t play ball and let her say all the carefully crafted things I’ll coach her on. Got it?”
Oh, yeah. Got it. “Shit. So if I don’t go?”
“Say goodbye to any chance of expanding your reach as an actor. Hell, say goodbye to your career altogether.”
I stare at her some more. Looks like I don’t fucking have a choice here. “Fine, I’ll pack my bags.”
It’s night, late, when my helicopter touches down in the countryside at the family estate.
Fucking Sabine. The last place I want to be.
Too many memories. Too much everything.
But at some point, carefully crafted shit will hit the fan. I should have let the career go. Gone into producing, directing, something like that. The screenplay in my bag is the meaty something else I want to do.
I’ve got other scripts, but that one…it’s my baby.
I get in the car waiting for me, and when we reach my aunt’s place, I let myself in. She’ll never forgive me if she’s not my first port of call. I’ll go to my townhouse after.
Of course Penrith’s up and waiting for me.
“Stephan!” The smile on her face is one of love and devotion, the one I remember from childhood and miss. She may be up there in age, walking with a cane, but none of it seems to be slowing her down.
I sweep her up, hug her tight. “Pen,” I say. “Are you happy I finally came back to this god-forsaken place? ”
“Like you had a choice?” She laughs, pats my cheek, and it makes me wonder if she means that as a joke or if she knows more than she’s letting on. Pen’s known for seeing things others don’t usually see. “How long are you here for, darling?”
“Only the summer.” Then I look at her. “How’s the battle-ax?”
Her smile falters. “You need to see her, you know. She won’t be happy to find out you’ve snuck onto the island without saying hi.”
As if that devious woman ever just wanted to do something as innocent as just say hi.
“No way,” I say. “Not even if hell freezes and the demons become angels.”
Penrith smiles again. “Oh, Stephan. You haven’t changed at all.”