Acting Up Read online

  Salt air filled her lungs. Cool, dry air. The rising sun glittered off the ocean as white-capped waves slammed against the shore. A beautiful, awe-inspiring view greeted her.

  Beautiful, but somehow wrong. The sun seemed harsher and the air too dry.

  Once, Addison had taken such comfort in this vista. Merrick had bought the place as a second residence and refuge from the city five years ago. The house was the one thing she’d fought to keep in the divorce. With a deep sigh, Addison turned and went back inside.

  She still loved her bathroom. Travertine marble countertops imported from Italy. A spa tub and separate glass-enclosed shower, with multiple shower heads. Opening the door, Addison flipped on the water. Her Chinese silk robe hit the floor, and like a heat-seeking missile, her gaze drifted to the full-length mirror. At some point, Addison had begun avoiding them in Covington Falls. Now she studied her reflection, wondering what the lack of two-hours-a-day workouts with her trainer, Jackie, coupled with fair bake-offs, had wrought on her decidedly not twenty-three-year-old body.

  A check of her backside brought forth a wince. Oh, Jackie would not be happy. Not happy at all.

  Lifting a hand, Addison touched a strand of her now golden-blonde hair. The color made her look younger and softer. The last vestige of Covington Falls would have to be left behind, too. Softness had no place in Hollywood. And it didn’t fit the new role Addison planned to take on.

  “God, maybe you could help me out here,” she whispered.

  A few hours later, Addison’s stylist reached for the same strand of hair. Jean-Lüc wasn’t the least bit sentimental about her new look, though.

  “What did you do?” he asked, face frozen in an expression of horror like a machete-wielding killer about to attack. “This is not Addison Gold.”

  “I had my hair done,” Addison said, feeling like a naughty child who’d broken her mother’s favorite vase.

  Jean-Lüc closed his eyes and swooned. Yes, swooned. There was no other way to describe it. “Do not tell me you let a local touch your head.”

  “It was either a local or color-in-a-box from Food Mart.”

  “Stop. I beg of you.” He moaned and held a hand to his heart. “Do you want to kill me?”

  “Actually, I kind of like the new color.”

  A string of French-laden curse words filled the salon.

  “I’m sorry I messed with your work, but I need you now,” Addison said, trying to reign him in. “I’m meeting with the producers of my new show for the first time on Friday and—”

  This news brought forth another explosion. Jean-Lüc’s attention shifted to Addison’s face. He clucked over the state of her skin after months of neglect and whimpered as he examined her hands.

  “Clara!” Jean-Lüc called out to his assistant. “We need the works here!”

  Addison was beginning to feel like one of Cinderella’s ugly stepsisters. “I thought I looked pretty good.”

  Decent even with the extra inches on her thighs courtesy of Caroline’s cookies.

  “Pretty good? Pretty good?” Jean-Lüc echoed, voice rising in volume and pitch. “You are Addison Covington, one of the most beautiful women in the world. You do not look pretty good. You look fabulous. Ravishing. Scintillating.”

  “Sorry.”

  Jean-Lüc spun around. “Clara. Move it, girl. We have serious work to do.” He paused and pointed at Addison. “You. Sit.”

  Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.

  ****

  “Well, don’t you look fabulous?” Sydney said, giving Addison a hug.

  Addison held on longer than necessary, but other than a brief glance, her best friend didn’t comment on the clinginess. Sydney led the way out to a multi-tiered terrace, where a table was set for lunch next to the pool. Water cascaded over giant granite stones into the reservoir below. The sound instantly soothed Addison’s frazzled nerves.

  Sydney repeated her visual inspection as she sat down. “I mean it, you look amazing.”

  “I should. Jackie’s been working me four hours a day, and I haven’t eaten a thing except wheatgrass shakes and barley water in five days.”

  “Sounds deadly,” Sydney said, with a pained expression. “Eat up. Can’t have you passing out during your big meeting tomorrow.”

  Sydney had prepared a salad with tiny shrimp, and Addison dug into the fresh greens with relish, happy to eat anything she could actually chew.

  “Jean-Lüc changed your color back,” Sydney said.

  Changed back and arranged in Addison’s signature chignon. Without conscious thought, she reached up and touched her hair. The shade still startled her when she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror, like an alien body snatcher had taken up residence on her head. Addison repressed a shudder.

  “It’s beautiful,” Sydney said softly.

  Beautiful, but wrong. Like everything else in L.A. “I’d forgotten how gorgeous your patio is,” she said, gazing around the terrace in a desperate attempt to stave off any heavy conversation. “Like an oasis.”

  “Addison, what’s wrong?”

  “Wrong? Nothing’s wrong,” Addison said, still practicing defensive avoidance. “I’m exhausted from trying to whip my forty-year-old body back into twenty-something shape. Plus, I can’t seem to get my inner clock back on Pacific Time.”

  The problem with friends is that they could spot deception a mile away. Sydney shook her head. “Honey, what are you doing?”

  Addison so did not want to deal with an interrogation right now. Maybe if she played obtuse, Sydney would back off. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Syd didn’t give up, though. “Why are you here?”

  “I’m having lunch with you.”

  “Not cute.” Her eyes narrowed. “Your eyes—”

  “What? There’s something wrong with my eyes now? I had injections. Did the doctor mess up?”

  Sydney ignored the smokescreen. “For months I watched the light fade from your eyes while Merrick stripped you of your soul. When I saw you a couple weeks ago in Covington Falls, it seemed like you’d been reborn. Your eyes sparkled. You laughed. You smiled. And not one of your habitual I’m-holding-it-together smiles.”

  There didn’t seem to be any use pretending she was fine. “What do you see now?”

  “Emptiness. Sadness.”

  “Well, of course I’m sad,” Addison said, the not-at-all-feigned exhaustion making her snap. “Believe it or not, leaving just about killed me. I feel like I disappointed a lot of people. My aunt. Aaron.”

  “What about Ethan Thomas and his sons?”

  “Yeah.” The picture of their brave little faces as she drove away would probably haunt Addison for the rest of her life. “Can’t say I enjoyed breaking their hearts, but there was no choice.”

  “There are always choices.”

  “No. My life is here. My new job is here. My career. This is what I want. What I’ve been working half my life to achieve.”

  “Are you sure this is still what you want?”

  “Of course,” Addison said, though she couldn’t quite meet Syd’s knowing eyes.

  “Who are you trying to convince?”

  The fork clattered to the plate as Addison’s temper flared. “What’s with the third degree, Sydney? I admitted it was hard to leave everyone. And before you ask, yes, it was hard to leave Ethan, too. I could take out my shredded heart and show it to you if you don’t believe me.”

  “I only want you to be happy,” Sydney said, eyes filling with tears. “I want you to have a full life with someone who loves you.”

  “Well, maybe we don’t all get to have a fairy tale life,” Addison snapped. “Maybe it has to be enough that I get to do what I love. How many dreamers are there in this town who will never see their name on a movie or TV screen? I’m a million-to-one odds.”

  “But why does it have to be one or the other? Why can’t you have it all?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, a little thing called distance.”
<
br />   Sydney snorted. It was elegantly done, but snorting nonetheless. “Excuses. Have you done what I suggested? Have you been praying?”

  “Yes, I have, and oddly enough God hasn’t magically transported California three thousand miles to the east,” Addison said. “Or maybe I should pray He’d just relocate Covington Falls? I imagine it would be easier for God to move a small town rather than a whole state.”

  “Ha, ha,” Sydney said, rolling her eyes. “I meant have you prayed and asked God to reveal His plan?”

  “He’s been pretty silent there, too.”

  “Maybe He hasn’t been silent. Maybe He’s nudging you toward something and you’ve been too stubborn to listen. Maybe there’s a reason you’re so unhappy and feel uncomfortable in your old skin.”

  “Don’t say my and old skin in the same sentence ever again.”

  A shrimp sailed across the table and bounced off Addison’s cheek.

  “Are we starting a food fight now?” she asked, gazing at her best friend in astonishment. “Real mature.”

  Another shrimp lodged in her chignon.

  Addison shook it off. “What is with you?

  “I’m trying to get you to listen,” Sydney said. “You’re like that man in the flood.”

  “What flood?” she asked in bemusement. “You mean like Noah in the big boat?”

  “No, it’s a joke. There’s this man stuck in the middle of a terrible flood. Finally, the only place for him to go is the roof. He prays to God to help him. No sooner does he stop praying when a man in a canoe goes by. The guy in the canoe pleads with him to get in, but the man says, ‘I’m waiting on God to save me.’ Then a woman in a speedboat comes by. Again the man refuses to go. Finally, a helicopter flies over. They want to send down a rope, but the man still insists on waiting for God. Finally, the waters cover the man’s house and he dies. When he gets to heaven he complains that God didn’t save him. And God replies… ‘I sent a canoe, a speed boat, and a helicopter to save you, but you wouldn’t get in any of them’.”

  “You think I’m like the guy on the roof?”

  “Yes. You keep waiting for a big sign, all the while ignoring what your gut is telling you.”

  Instead of a biting retort, a choked sob erupted. “Syd, I’m so confused,” Addison said. “I don’t know if this is guilt or loneliness or simply anxiety over my new job, but I think I need a burning bush.”

  Sydney reached for her hand. “Then let’s pray God will give you one.”

  “I don’t think He does that anymore.”

  “Maybe not a literal burning bush, but some sort of sign. God wants you to have it all, Addison. You deserve a full life, and if you’re too scared to listen to your inner voice, then we’ll have to pray for a loud bang.”

  For the first time in a week the knot in Addison’s stomach eased. “Okay. Let’s pray then. A big, burning bush.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Who didn’t love a party?

  Music. Balloons. Great food. Good reason to celebrate. A large portion of Covington Falls’ citizens had turned out to celebrate Julia Richardson’s birthday.

  “So, Bro… how are you these days?” Jake asked.

  Unfortunately for Ethan, that large portion of citizens also included nagging family members.

  “I think he’s starting to look pale and sickly,” Matt said.

  Two someone’s nagging only ratcheted up the level of torture. Ethan tried to ignore his brothers as they sized him up with equal parts pity and worry.

  “Yeah.” Jake folded his arms as he completed a head-to-toe inspection. “Definitely wasting away. Have you lost weight?”

  “Are you eating right?” Matt asked.

  The problem with blood relations is that they thought sharing some DNA gave them license to stick their nose into your business. Avoiding said blood relations only invited more scrutiny.

  “I’ve already got one mother,” Ethan said, eyeing them both with disgust.

  “Who do you think sent us over here?” Jake asked, jerking his chin in the direction where their mother stood amongst a knot of guests trying not to look like she was watching. “She’s worried, too.”

  “Well, you can all stop it,” Ethan said. “I’m not going into decline. I’m fine.”

  Jake and Matt shared a silent who-is-he-kidding look.

  “Denial,” Jake said.

  Matt nodded. “Delusional.”

  For the first time since his college days, Ethan contemplated getting falling-down drunk. Passing out and waking up with a killer hangover might be worth it if it meant escaping the Thomas family inquisition. The last thing he wanted was to talk about Addison. Or think about how her absence had left a giant gaping hole in his life. All the joy and optimism. The sense of returning to the land of the living after two years of darkness.

  “I think Melissa is trying to climb up to the tree house,” Ethan said, pointing to where his three-year-old niece had already pulled herself up past two wooden planks hammered into the side of the tree.

  Stifling a curse, Matt hurried off to rescue his youngest child, and before Jake could get in another jab, Ethan made his escape.

  Daredevil kids aside, Grace Graham’s back yard had been transformed into a nighttime wonderland. Twinkling white lights had been strung from tall poles and tiki torches surrounded the perimeter. Meredith and her wedding band were set up behind a temporary dance floor, which had remained full most of the night.

  Tables laden with enough food to satisfy three starving football teams were lined up in the grass. Apparently even more food was required, however, because as Ethan approached the porch, a woman walked through the screen door carrying a vegetable tray. The platter joined about a thousand pounds of other homemade dishes from glazed hams, roast beef, and barbecue chicken to casseroles of all sizes and descriptions. A second table was loaded down with desserts.

  Ethan moved to fill up a plate, but before he could eat a bite, Seth interrupted.

  “Just the guy I need to help me with the cake,” Seth said, throwing an arm around Ethan’s shoulders.

  “You need two people to carry a cake?”

  “Did you miss the hoard out here?” Seth asked, gesturing to the crowded yard.

  Ethan hadn’t missed it. Or the fact that a good number of the hoard wanted to rehash his doomed relationship with Addison. Fetching the cake meant a brief escape at least, so he followed Seth willingly.

  An enormous chocolate cake rested on the table. Sarah stood over the gigantic confection, lighting the candles.

  Ethan whistled through his teeth. “Your girlfriend is popular.”

  “Very,” Seth said, before glancing over at his stepsister. “Is it ready?”

  “The question is, are you ready?” A mischievous grin lit up Sarah’s face. “I’ve been waiting for this since the day Julia showed up.”

  Ethan eyed the two in bemusement. “What’s going on?”

  “Life changes, my friend,” Seth said, with a smile. “Let’s get the cake out before the icing melts.”

  Still in a state of confusion, Ethan helped load the cake onto a rolling cart. Then he and Seth maneuvered the cart outside and down the stairs. A signal from Seth and Meredith’s band kicked into an up-tempo version of “Happy Birthday.” As Ethan and Seth approached the dance floor with their chocolate-laden burden, the light from one of the torches reflected off something sparkling around the bottom of one of the candles.

  Before Ethan could process exactly what the shiny object was, they reached Julia. The birthday song ended, and Julia obligingly blew out the candles.

  It took some effort, but she managed to get them all out in one breath.

  Except one candle sputtered back to life. The one candle with the shiny object around it.

  Julia rolled her eyes at Seth. “Funny.”

  “Blow it out,” Sarah called out.

  On a grumbling sigh, Julia leaned over to blow again. Then she stopped and a sharp gasp of surprise echoed across the
yard. “Oh…”

  Ethan knew exactly what the object was now.

  “What did you do, Seth Graham?” With a trembling hand, Julia reached for the candle, using it to scoop up a diamond ring. The precious gem twinkled in her palm as she stared down at it in wonder.

  Another sharp gasp went up, but this time the sound issued from the guests gathered around the dance floor.

  Seth took the ring and went down on one knee. “Julia Richardson, will you marry me?”

  Eyes misty with unshed tears, Julia stared down at the diamond. “What if I said no?”