Page 48 of The Starlet
Bradley:Please, don’t shut me out. I need you, Elena. Meet me for a drink tonight so we can talk.
The tears start forming in my eyes again, and I blink them back. I need to get my head in the game. Tonight is the night, and I need to be sober to make it though.
Me:I’ll see you tomorrow. We will talk then, and I’ll explain everything.
I drag myself out of bed to take a shower and get ready for the day. I don’t want to risk running into anyone, so I’ve decided to stay in and watch movies today. Justine knows not to bother me, although I didn’t tell her why. She didn’t press the request, but I know she’s curious. She must think I’m throwing some celebrity hissy fit or something.
Sitting on the couch, I pull a blanket up over my lap and turn on Netflix, looking for something mind-numbing.Keep Her Hiddenis the first movie that pops up in my recommended list, and I click play. I stare at the screen. I see the pictures moving and hear the words spoken, but I don’t comprehend any of it.
My mind is too wrapped up around Brad and tonight’s meeting. At some point, I fall back asleep, and when I wake, it’s four in the afternoon. I sit up fast and inhale deeply.Fuck.I wasn’t supposed to sleep this long. The sun is still shining through the windows.
I have several missed calls from Brad, and I can’t bring myself to talk to him. So, when my phone rings again, I ignore it and send it to voicemail.
* * *
Six fifty-eight.It’s officially only two minutes before he arrives. Brad called only once more before stopping. I hope he doesn’t show up again tonight. That’s the last thing that I need. Jimmy texted me when he arrived, so I know he’s outside listening in with Detective Greene. I feel a little better knowing, if things start going south, I have back-up.
My doorbell rings, and I think I might vomit; my stomach is tight and in knots. I have no way of contacting anyone to let them know I need help. I just hope they are listening to the conversation. I’m still in yoga pants and a tank top. My hair is piled on top of my head, and I have no makeup on.He can see me how I really am.
I take a steadying breath and open the door to come face to face with the man who has given the public access to some of my private moments, and has made me feel unsafe in my own home. A wave of anger flashes through me, and I push that feeling aside so I can really get a good look at him.
He’s not too tall—five-nine or so. Just a few inches taller than me. He has light blond hair that curls at the ends and honey brown eyes hidden behind large hipster glasses. His lips curl into a smile, showing a straight set of teeth. He’s wearing a t-shirt and fitted jeans with sneakers.
He looks like everyone else that could have been on set. I tilt my head to the side as I rack my brain trying to figure out how I know him.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” he asks, motioning toward the house.
I take a step to the side, holding the door open wider, and allow him to walk past me. I shut the door and watch him as he walks into the kitchen as if he owns it.Did I see him in Vancouver? At the club?
He turns and holds a bouquet of wildflowers up in my line of vision. I blink in surprise and clear my throat.
“Thank you. There’s a vase under the sink.” My voice is raspy and wavers a bit when I say sink. “Let’s sit in the living room so we can talk.”
I sit on the edge of the couch cushion and keep my spine straight. He finishes filling the vase with water and the flowers, then sits in the chair next to me, relaxing into the seat as he places his ankle on top of his knee and rests his hands there.
“You said you wanted to talk. I seem to be doing most of the talking so far.”
“Right.” Can he hear how fast my heart is beating? I now understand what Edgar Allen Poe was thinking as he wroteThe Raven.“What’s your name?”
“I told you, call me Jay.”
I nod. “Why?”
“Why call me Jay?” he teases as a smile tugs at his lips.
“No. Why are you doing all of this? What do you hope to get out of it? Why me?”
He strokes his chin with his right hand and then rubs his hands down the front of his pants. “I’ve known since the moment I met you that we belong together. I needed to find a way to get you to notice me. Do you know I’ve been a part of the crew for three of your movies?” He holds up three fingers to drive his point home. “Not once have you ever glanced in my direction. Even when I talked with you, you seemed to look through me. I needed to make youseeme.”
I fight the tears that sit just below the surface. My face is flushed, and my cheeks feel hot. My voice raises in anger. “So, you decided to stalk me to get my attention? Do you understand how crazy that sounds?”
“I’m not crazy.” His voice comes out calm, almost soothing.
“Yes, you are! Why not try to talk to me like a normal person?” I stand, needing to be taller than him.
“You’ll see it my way soon enough.”
The front door busts open, and I whip my head in that direction as Bradley comes charging in.