Family (3 page)

Don’t ever forget that.”

Their conversations were deep and meaningful, bouncing between serious discussions about God and silly, fun talk about the upcoming CKT performance of Narnia.

“How do you feel about taking a breather from Hollywood and playing Aslan the lion?” she’d asked him a week ago. “For the life of me, I can’t get my lion to roar. He’s just a nice big kid, happy to be there. Like Gomer Pyle wandering around the stage yucking it up and aw-shucking it with every other character.”

Dayne laughed. “Sounds a lot better than my recent gig.”

Something was changing between them, strengthening their friendship and making them both dizzy with possibilities. On the good days, anyway.

On the bad ones, Katy would go to the local market and pick up a tabloid. Always there was something about Dayne-if not on the cover, then inside. Rumors about who he was seeing and who was falling for him, talk about a mystery woman meeting him at the beach or driving with him along Pacific Coast Highway. She wanted to believe that maybe the woman they were referring to was her. But she had her doubts. After all, she hadn’t been back to Hollywood since January.

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Katy never mentioned what she read. But it made her think. Whatever was happening between them couldn’t possibly turn into a normal relationship, the kind that her friends Ashley Baxter Blake and Jenny had with their husbands.

Even so, their recent conversations were wonderful.

“You won’t believe what happened,” he told her. The emotion in his voice was raw. “I met my birth father. Sat down on a bench beside him and talked with him for an hour.” He paused. “You’re the only one I’ve told.”

Dayne still didn’t mention the man’s name, where he was from, or any of the details, but the difference in him after that was undeniable. He seemed stronger, with a confidence that came less from who he was than what he was becoming on the inside. A confidence that grew from somewhere inside his soul.

Between the news about his birth father and Dayne’s growing faith, Katy considered the changes nothing short of divine, the sort of work only God could’ve brought about.

She had shared the details with Rhonda and Jenny, and she wanted to share them with Ashley. All three of her friends had’

been praying and for the most part gently suggesting that Dayne couldn’t possibly be the right person for her. But now … now\

even Jenny was beginning to wonder.

There were issues to be resolved, of course. The greatest were the paparazzi and the fact that Dayne needed to stay in LA until he finished his current contract-five more movies with the studio backing him. Katy had no idea how either of them could survive being apart that long, not if their recent conversations were any indication.

The simple fact was this: the longer he talked to her, the more he shared about how God was working in his life and how he was taking walks along the beach every morning praying for her, the more there was no denying her feelings.

She was falling for him harder than ever before.

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The plane landed, and Katy gathered her bags and rented a car. She could hardly wait to see Dayne. It had been two months since they’d been together.

She checked into her hotel and waited until the right time. According to Dayne, the paparazzi had been quieter lately. He wasn’t hitting the nightclubs, wasn’t showing up at the usual restaurants and haunts.

“My old agent told me this would happen,” Dayne had told her on the phone last night. “He said photographers stay away from Christians.”

“But do they know?”

“I’m not sure.” He paused. “Maybe it’s something they sense. I’m being too well-behaved. Not that they’ve lost all interest. They’re still taking a hundred pictures of me every day.”

“A hundred?” The thought was more than Katy could comprehend.

He chuckled. “Down from a thousand.”

Katy had been tempted to say something about the tabloid rumors she’d seen, but she kept her thoughts to herself. He owed her nothing. If it was true about the time he spent with other women, with his leading ladies and supporting actresses, then she prayed that God would show her. That way she could share a friendly week with Dayne and let him go-for good this time.

Until then she had to believe the tabloids didn’t know what she knew, that Dayne was becoming someone they wouldn’t even recognize. And tonight she would see those changes firsthand.

Dayne had asked her to meet him at the beach. It would be safe, he said, because the photographers hadn’t been lurking in the bushes near his Malibu house as often, and he thought they could escape the paparazzi easier tonight than after the trial started. They wouldn’t know about her until tomorrow, and 11

they wouldn’t know the details until she testified Tuesday or Wednesday. At this point the paparazzi had no idea who she was.

“Besides, we need to talk about that, about how you’re going to handle them,”

Dayne had said. “You need a plan, Katy.”

Now that the trial was only twelve hours away she believed him more than ever.

The weather was warm as she headed to the beach in her rental car that evening.

She had changed into capris and a formfitting tank top under a pale blue, long-sleeve blouse, the kind that tapered in at the waist.

Twenty minutes later she found a spot in the parking lot at Malibu Beach, not far from where the paparazzi had tried to catch her last time she was here. She looked around the way Dayne had told her to-in case there were transients or photographers, anyone who appeared suspicious. In that case, she was supposed to drive down the road and pull into his driveway. He would open his garage, and she could park inside. But if the paparazzi saw her, they wouldn’t be able to go out on the beach. The photographers would be desperate to know the identity of Dayne’s visitor.

Okay, she told herself, don’t be nervous. They were just a couple of friends getting together to talk. But no matter what she told herself, as she stepped out of her car, the truth was as clear as the hint of perfume she left behind her.

Katy moved quickly, glancing around. People were scattered across the parking lot, loading beach chairs into the backs of cars and packing up for the day. A few surfers washed their boards beneath the outdoor showers along the bathroom building. But no one was watching her. She reached the sand and surveyed the beach. The shoreline wasn’t as empty as it had been in January. A few families played near the surf, and an occasional couple sat together, facing the sea.

The sand felt warm as it pushed over her sandals and between 12

her toes. She wished she could stop and take them off, but Dayne had told her to keep walking. She reached the damp shore where the sand was more compact, and she turned left. She was maybe ten yards into her walk when a guy hurried down the sandy slope toward her.

Just as she was about to pick up her pace, the man spoke in a loud whisper.

“Katy … it’s me.” Dayne appeared from the shadows and fell into step beside her. “Keep walking.”

The feel of him next to her heightened her awareness, made her notice everything about him, how tall and strong he was beside her and how good it felt when their arms brushed against each other every few steps. “Are they out, the photographers?” She tried to keep her eyes straight ahead, but she couldn’t help catching glimpses of him. Strange how being with Dayne in public was like playing a role, like reenacting the scene the two of them had rehearsed for Dream On almost a year ago.

“No.” He gave her a quick grin. “But I couldn’t let you walk the beach by yourself. The beaches are busier this time of year.” He slipped his hands into his shorts pockets and kept moving. “I watched you park, made sure you were okay.” He looked over his shoulder. “I’m not taking chances with the paparazzi.”

“Oh.” She kept her voice low, but she allowed a glance in his direction. “I’m glad.”

They kept a steady pace, and after a few minutes Dayne slowed. They came to a stop a few yards from the stairs leading up to his house. He scanned the darkening beach in both directions, then turned and faced the surf. There were no signs of people anywhere near them. He took a deep breath and smiled at her.

“I think we’re alone.”

She kicked off her sandals. “Mmmm. The sand feels so good.”

He met her eyes and then looked back at the moonlit surf. “Not as good as seeing you.”

He was keeping his distance on purpose; Katy could feel that 13

much. The threat of photographers ruled everything about his public moments.

She breathed in the salty ocean air and worked her toes deeper into the sand. “I can’t believe I’m here.” She angled her face, finding his eyes again. “Something about you is different.”

“Different?” He grinned and kicked a bit of sand at her foot.

“In a nice way.” She straightened and let the breeze wash over her. Everything about the ocean felt wonderful, especially after a day in an airplane. “I think it’s your eyes.” She felt shy telling him this. “It’s like I can see Jesus there.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She stared at the surf. Her heart was pounding harder than the waves.

Over the phone she had felt things changing for both of them, growing deeper, stronger. But here … in person, the force of the attraction between them was enough to knock her to her knees. It was all she could do to hold her ground.

For nearly a minute he said nothing, just stood beside her, the ocean wind washing over them, their elbows touching. Then he groaned. “I can’t stand this.”

He didn’t have to explain what he meant. Katy felt it too. Being together this way and not at least hugging wasn’t natural. She breathed out, tried to steady herself; then she lifted her eyes to him.

At the same time, he turned and faced her. “Katy …” He reached for her hands, wove his fingers between hers, and once more-very carefully-he looked around. Then he did what they were both dying to do. He slipped his arms around her waist and drew her into his embrace. “I feel like I’ve waited forever for this.” He brushed his cheek against hers. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Her hands wound around his neck, and she let herself get lost in his eyes. They shone with a love that could only have come from God. Mixed with the hint of moonlight reflecting off the water, the nearness of him was more than she could take. She let

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herself be pulled in closer, and she rested her head against his chest. “Why is it-” she looked up and let the light from his eyes wash over her-“I never feel complete until I’m in your arms?”

At first he looked as if he might answer her, but in the time it took him to blink, the air between them changed. He brought his hands to her face, and with the most tender care he touched his lips to hers.

But just as the kiss began, just as she was remembering how wonderful it felt to be in his arms, there was a movement in the bushes, a rush of feet, and the clicking of cameras.

Fear and adrenaline mixed and flooded her veins.

In a blur of motion, two men appeared from behind the bushes beneath Dayne’s home-one of them the same as last time she was here, the other one much younger.

Katy held up her hand, but it was too late.

The men blocked their way to Dayne’s staircase and began taking rapid-fire pictures.

“Put your hand down,” Dayne whispered to her. He used his body to shelter her, pulling her close, wrapping his arm around her, as he hurried her around the photographers to the door that led to his stairs.

The cameras didn’t stop clicking until Dayne and Katy were inside the private staircase. Even then the men banged on the seven-foot-high gate. One of them shouted, “Tell us her name! Come on, Matthews. She’s not an actress. Just tell us who she is.”

The other one chimed in. “She’s the mystery woman, right? The one who’ll be at the trial tomorrow?”

Only then did Katy fully realize what had happened. The paparazzi had figured it out. All along she really had been the mystery woman. The photographers were desperate for the identity of the woman Dayne had been with back in January, and in the process they’d kept the story alive. They might not know her name-not yet. But the pictures they’d taken tonight would 15

show her entire body-her face and her surprise-and the fact that she had been locked in an embrace with Dayne Matthews

And that could mean only one thing: Life as she had known it was about to come to an end.

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Dayne thought about going after the photographers. As he and Katy stood there on the steps, hearts racing, hidden by his private fence and gate, he actually considered pushing his way out to the public beach, seizing their cameras, and removing the memory chips from inside. That’s all he wanted. The memory chips.

Then he and Katy could pretend they hadn’t been caught kissing on the beach, and the world would never have proof that the two of them were anything more than associates.

But the thought left him as soon as it came. The cameramen were still banging on the gate, shaking it, threatening to tear it down. He searched Katy’s eyes and whispered, “You okay?”

Her face was pale, but she nodded and pointed up the staircase. “Please, Dayne .

. . let’s get out of here.” She kept her voice too quiet for the photographers to hear-especially above the noise they were making. But as she spoke, her teeth chattered. She was shaken, no question.

How could he have been so careless, meeting her on the beach? So what if the paparazzi had laid low? They knew the

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trial was about to start, so they’d taken a gamble that maybe-just maybe-the woman who had been on the beach with Dayne at the time of the attack might come around a day early. They’d been right and he’d been wrong. And now Katy would suffer the consequences.

He felt his heart settle somewhere in the pit of his stomach. “Come on.” He put his arm around Katy and led her up the private outdoor staircase to his secluded deck and into the house. They moved past the kitchen table and into his living room, and then they dropped onto his leather sofa, breathless.

Anger had its claws around Dayne’s throat. “That’s so wrong.” His teeth were clenched, and he barely squeezed out the words. “How can they live with themselves?”