Home Bound (2 page)

Yeah, I did. But I didn’t have to like it. “Whatever. So...what? She needs someone to stand by her door and make sure her adoring fans don’t bother her? I’m telling you now, if she has one of those stupid, tiny, yappy dogs, I’m not carrying it!”

“Somebody’s been watching too much TMZ,” Declan snickered.

“Fuck you.”

“Okay, let’s reel it in here,” Levi interrupted. “It’s not just a simple case of needing a bodyguard. She already has one. The problem is...things are getting through to her that shouldn’t be.”

“Like what? Publisher’s Clearing House bogging her down? Fan mail that she doesn’t want to deal with personally?”

“Threats,” Sebastian said firmly. “Things have been happening while she works, and things are showing up at her house that are suspect. We’re definitely dealing with a stalker situation, and her staff isn’t getting anywhere. She’s scared and she needs the best. That’s you, Cole.”

“Flattery isn’t going to help here,” I growled, hating every detail about the case already.

“I don’t give a shit about flattering you, asshole. I care about Evangeline.”

“
Evangeline
? Are you shitting me? That’s her fucking name? Who does that to a kid?”

“Look, forget about her name,” Levi said with some exasperation. “She’s going to be in Baltimore filming a movie, and you need to be there to secure the set and see if you can find what her security team is missing. Obviously they’re not on top of it like they need to be, and that’s why things have escalated to this point. Evangeline is starting to get freaked out. Her safety is our top priority.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No. There’s nothing for you to say here,” Levi said in a tone that I knew meant he was done listening. “It’s a case that needs to be kept out of the press because we don’t want a media circus, and I know that’s right up your alley—keeping things out of the spotlight. I need to know that you’re committed to this, Cole. No fucking around.”

“I’m not going to put up with some diva and her crazy-ass demands,” I said. “I’m not making sure her dog has a raincoat or...or...or she only has blue M&M’s in her candy dish or that her dressing room smells like fucking sunshine. As long as none of that shit is in my job description, we’ll be fine.”

Although I couldn’t tell who it was, someone chuckled. “Fine. We’ll be sure that all of those things are clear. She arrives in town Tuesday. That gives you a couple of days to get yourself together and do a walk-through of where they’ll be filming. Sebastian has the file with all the pertinent information.” Once he was done, Levi turned toward the nursery and once again motioned for the nurse. “Now if you guys will excuse me, I’m going to see if my wife is awake so we can have some time together with our son. Feel free to come back up in about an hour. I’m sure she’d love to see you.” And with that he was gone.

Sure, he gets to walk away and toward his perfect life.

Bastard.

“The file’s out in my car,” Sebastian said, coming up beside me. “Why don’t we go down to the cafeteria and grab some coffee and talk a little more about the case before coming back up here.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to flip him off and leave. After all, I didn’t ask for this, and I certainly wasn’t in the mood for it. Just like I wasn’t in the mood to come back up here and make goo-goo faces at a baby. But I liked Harper. Plus, Gavin was like a brother to me, so I kind of felt obligated to do it.

Do it for
me.

Yeah, yeah, I said to myself. I’d do it. I’d hate every second of it, but I’d come back up here and do what was expected. I’d even try to look like I was enjoying myself by plastering a smile on my face. Maybe I’d stop in the gift shop and buy a teddy bear or flowers or some shit to really hammer the joy home.

But once I left here today, I’d consider my obligation filled. They all got to leave here—Declan, Sebastian and Levi—and go home to their happy little lives, while all I had to go home to were empty rooms and memories.

And to start my research on some pampered diva with an over-inflated ego who was probably just mistaking an adoring fan for something more dramatic. Probably a publicity stunt, no matter how much she claims she wanted it kept out of the press. Well, she was in for one hell of a surprise, because once she got a look at me and heard what I had to say, she’d realize that I was not a babysitter to the rich and famous, and I didn’t do coddling.

And I certainly didn’t care about making a scene.

Evangeline

A
small group of preteen girls squealed as I got out of the chauffeured car and tried to hurry into the back door of an old apartment building in downtown Baltimore. The building had been vacant for more than a year and had been leased for the next month to use as the primary set for my new film.

The group of squealers was a normal collection of my fans—maybe eight or ten fresh-faced girls thrusting out various objects for me to sign. My assistant, Cali, had told me on the ride over that the location of the film set had been leaked on one of my fan sites, but only the die-hard fans would manage to talk their parents or older siblings into hauling them over here before eight in the morning.

The girls didn’t bother me particularly today, except I had a headache, and the high-pitched squeals didn’t help.

I’d been the star of a popular teenaged cable show all through my teens—singing and dancing and over-acting my way through the life experiences of a girl who stumbled clumsily into Broadway stardom—and it was hard to shake that image and the fans that came along with it.

It might actually be impossible, although I was trying.

I signed autographs for a minute, keeping the fake, bright smile on my face, until Cali said we had to get inside, and I breathed a sigh of relief when the noise was shut outside.

I needed coffee and ibuprofen and a little quiet, but I was likely to just get the first two.

“Evangeline. There you are.”

I turned to see Jimmy, my long-time manager, walking over from the donuts laid out on the craft service table. Twelve years ago, when my parents had hired him in the hopes that I would become a star, he’d had such a laidback and paternal air that I’d immediately liked him, and nothing had changed in the intervening years.

“Everything okay?” he asked, studying my face.

I hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, and it probably showed on my face. “I’m fine. A headache.”

Cali jumped into action to get me some pills while Jimmy glanced around the old, no-frills building—a far cry from the Hollywood studios I was used to. Most of the interior shots for the film would be done here and in an alley just outside, and then we’d film on location throughout Baltimore for the rest of them.

“What do you think?” Jimmy asked, still watching my face. He might act laidback, but he was the most observant man I’d ever met.

I shrugged. “I’m not looking for luxury here. I’m looking for a change.”

“Well, this is definitely going to be a change for you.”

I’d agreed to a role in this gritty independent film because it was totally different from everything I’d done before. After the cable show ended, I’d made a couple of albums and toured the country, doing major concerts and appearances. Then I’d starred in a movie—a big-budget musical—and then done a prime-time sitcom that had been canceled after one season. I could have done another musical or an over-the-top romantic comedy that traded on my teenage reputation, but I wanted to be stretched, to prove to the world that I could do more than dress in purple and belt out a peppy song. So when I was offered the role of a good girl who gets pulled into a bleak world of drug addiction and crime when she falls for the wrong guy, written by an edgy screenplay writer who was getting increasing acclaim, I decided to go for it—since no one in the world thought I could do it.

Maybe I couldn’t do it, but I was sure as hell going to try.

Cali came back with pills for my headache and a bottle of water, so I gulped them down and asked for coffee.

“So everything was all right last night?” Jimmy asked.

I knew what he was asking. “Yeah. No incidents.”

“Incidents” was how we referred to the threats I’d been getting—notes, packages, a couple of phone calls. I’d been hoping they would stop when I came to Baltimore, assuming the asshole was located in LA. But the night I’d arrived, I’d been delivered a dead rose, so whoever was doing it wasn’t discouraged by the distance.

That was when I’d called Sebastian.

“That’s good. It doesn’t look like you got much sleep, though.”

“I didn’t. Too on edge. But maybe I’ll look more in character for this role—with the blood-shot eyes and all.”

“Your eyes aren’t blood-shot,” Cali said from beside me. “You look beautiful.”

Cali would have said that whether it was true or not, so the words weren’t particularly encouraging.

I was blessed with good skin, vibrant red hair, and a slender, shapely body. I didn’t really think I was particularly special in the looks department, but I was often included on lists of beautiful people or hot actresses. Today, however, was definitely not my most attractive day.

“It doesn’t matter. You won’t be shooting anything today anyway.” Jimmy was moving me toward a room that had been made into a dressing room for me. “You need to take care of yourself, though.” He glanced over at Cali. “Get her a massage or something for later today, will you?”

Cali nodded and started working on her ever-present phone.

I sighed. I wouldn’t mind a massage, but it wasn’t really going to fix anything.

I had some sort of stalker who kept sending me increasingly nasty threats. It made me feel sick, exposed, completely vulnerable. And if this film was a flop, I’d have to go back to singing for the teeny-boppers, since it would be a sign I wasn’t really equipped to do anything else.

And all the massages in the world weren’t going to change either of those things.

***

I
was finishing my coffee in the dressing room a few minutes later when my phone chirped.

Cali usually took possession of my phone while I was working, but I grabbed it before she could snatch it away.

Sebastian’s name popped up with a text that said simply, “He’s on his way.”

Irrationally, I felt a little better.

I’d grown up with Sebastian. Our families had been friends, and we’d gone to the same exclusive schools since kindergarten, although he was two years older than me. We’d even dated some as teenagers, when I was back home in D.C. between filming seasons.

Nothing had ever been serious between us, but he felt like family, and I was glad I’d made the decision to contact him about my problem. When he’d gotten out of the Marines, he’d started up a security firm with some of his buddies, and I couldn’t help but envy the way he’d broken away from the pressure of his family and made his own way in the world.

That was what I wanted too—to not give into the demands of everyone around me, who wanted me to be a perky princess who made everyone a lot of money. I wanted to really be
me
. Just me. If Sebastian could do his own thing, then maybe I could too.

It was just taking me longer.

“Sebastian’s guy is on his way,” I told Cali, who was waiting expectantly for me to report. “Maybe you can go catch him when he arrives and bring him back here.”

“Sure. Malcolm says he’s an asshole.”

“Well, Malcolm isn’t going to like him no matter what, since he thinks he’s treading on his territory. I can explain that I just want someone else to help with the stalker situation, but Malcolm is still going to think I don’t trust him.”

“Do you trust him?”

I shrugged. “I think so. He’s always done a fine job. I just don’t know why they can’t get control of this guy. Another person on the job can only help, so Malcolm is just going to have to suck up his hurt feelings.”

“Should I tell him that?” There was almost a smile on Cali’s face.

“Please don’t. Just go wait for this guy, will you?”

Cali nodded and left the room, and I went to stretch out on the small couch against the wall. The day hadn’t even started, and I was already exhausted. I wondered if anyone would notice if I just collapsed on the couch and took a nap.

My head felt a little better when I closed my eyes.

A few minutes later, there was a tap on the door, and I opened my eyes slowly, not wanting to jar the headache back.

Cali opened the door—she was used to not always waiting for a response—so I hadn’t even turned my head when there were two people standing in the dressing room.

Cali was one.

And the guy was another.

When Sebastian said he had a buddy who was better at security than anyone he’d ever known, I’d expected the man to be kind of like Sebastian. Clean-cut. Articulate. Maybe even handsome.

This guy wasn’t any of those thing.

He was strong, with impressive shoulders and suppressed power in his stance. But he looked rough, unshaven, with a square jaw and steel gray eyes that were strangely challenging.

He didn’t look anything like Sebastian. He didn’t look anything like the guys I was used to seeing.

He looked like he belonged in this dark, gritty, crime drama I was acting in now. He could have been the lead.

All of this flashed through my head in the few seconds I blinked at him, until I realized I was supine on the little couch in my leggings and tunic-style top, which was presently riding up too high.

Pulling myself together, I sat up and smiled at him—my normal, friendly smile with which I always greeted new people. “Hi. I’m Evangeline. Thanks for coming out.”

The guy gave a grunt that might have been a word—but not an identifiable one.

Feeling annoyed that he couldn’t even stretch himself enough to smile, I stood up, wincing slightly when my headache came back with full force. I reached a hand out to him, a gesture he was forced to return in order to shake my hand.

His grip was strong, warm—almost uncomfortably firm. It felt just as challenging as his gaze did.

“So Sebastian gave you the background and everything?” I asked, deciding that getting down to business made the most sense, since this guy clearly didn’t want to be friendly.