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“Can we go somewhere today?” she asked. “I just need to get out and do something … anything. I have a serious case of cabin fever.”
Oliver understood. He was starting to feel the same. “I get it. Want to take a drive and see some fall colors?”
Her face lit up. “I’d love that.”
An hour later, they were in his Jeep, heading north along the Lake Michigan shoreline.
“So, tell me, Olly, did you always want to be a cop?”
His heart skipped a beat. He hated when people asked him that question because he really didn’t want to get into his reason for becoming a police officer. It was personal to him and not something he shared when he didn’t know someone well.
“Pretty much.” That was the pat answer he usually gave.
“How long have you been doing this?”
“Since I was twenty-three.”
“A really long time then.”
He looked over at her and found her smirking. “Are you calling me old?”
“I don’t know. How old are you?”
“Can’t you guess?”
She reached over and brushed her fingers against his sideburns, which sent a jolt straight through his body. “You’ve got a little grey going on here, so I’m guessing you’ve left your thirties.”
He did his best to recover from his sudden reaction to her touch. “Almost.”
“Thirty-nine then?”
He nodded. He knew from doing a little research on her when he’d been hired that she was thirty. Ten years was a pretty big difference. She probably thought he was ancient.
“You must like your job to be doing it for so long.”
He glanced over at her. “I do. I never imagined when I became a police officer that I’d end up a bodyguard for Hollywood’s princess, though.”
Adelia groaned. “I hate it when people call me that.”
“You do?”
“I know my parents are Hollywood royalty”—she made air quotes as she said royalty—“but I’m just a girl, and I have my own life, my own career, my own dreams. I hate being the little princess, born into this life I didn’t choose, everyone assuming I have everything handed to me.”
“Don’t you?”
She twisted her lips to the side. “Sometimes.”
When she looked over at him, he quirked his eyebrow in disbelief.
“Okay, yes, I’ve been given parts in movies because of who my parents are. I won’t deny that. But I’ve also auditioned just like everyone else and, believe it or not, have been rejected for roles I really wanted to play. I don’t always get everything I want like everyone seems to think.”
“What do you want most right now?”
Her eyes widened a smidge and her perfect lips parted as she looked at him. And then it was like her face lit up with excitement as she started talking nonstop. “There’s this story I really want to make into a movie. Margaret Bourke-White was this amazing woman, who was the first female photographer at Fortune Magazine and then Life Magazine. She was the first foreign photographer allowed in the Soviet Union. She photographed the Dust Bowl and the Great Depression. She was the first female war correspondent during World War II. She was there for the German invasion of Moscow. She went on air bombing missions. She even traveled with Patton’s army through Germany while they liberated concentration camps. She had this amazing life and never seemed to take no for an answer.”
“Sounds awesome.”
“She was. She passed away from Parkinson’s in the early 70s. But what a life. The moment I heard about her, I knew her story was one I wanted to pursue. I have a friend, a scriptwriter, who’s written the screenplay. But I’ve been trying to get this thing made for two years. We’ve had hiccups along the way, but I feel like it’s closer to becoming a reality. It feels almost within my grasp now. I’m trying not to hold my breath, though. Every time I get excited about it, something falls through.”