Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Penn is still as a statue, staring down at the ground with a clenched jaw, when I turn and run back to set, tears streaming down my face and a horrible churn in my gut telling me I’ve just made a horrible, irreversible mistake.
CHAPTER 11
Penn
I’m destroyed.
The last two weeks have been a pitch-black hole and I’ve been operating blindly, trying to be a father, trying to do my job, trying to remember how to get up, function and breathe without the possibility of Jenna walking back through my door.
She’s gone.
She blew in here, rearranged the geography of my heart, my soul, and left me bleeding out on the floor. Nothing looks the same. Nothing feels the same, now that I’ve felt her breath on my skin. Now that I’ve been the object of her trust. She let me into her world and now, I’m locked out in the fucking cold. I was a fool to think our relationship would end any other way.
She’s a nineteen-year-old bombshell on her way to meteoric fame.
Did I really think she’d saddle herself with a scarred vet on a humble salary?
That was never going to happen. Not in reality.
I need to be grateful for the small amount of time I was allowed to exist in her orbit. I need to count my blessings that I’ve had a woman like that look up at me in the dark and whimper for me to kiss her, to stop her world from spinning too fast. To anchor her, even if it was just for a little while. Even if it was only temporary.
I don’t realize I’m staring into space until Erin shrieks my name from the living room.
“Dad! Jenna is on television!”
My feet carry me in the direction of the living room before I make a conscious decision, heart slamming into my jugular. Seeing her face might be the absolute last thing I need right now, but I also need the sight of her like goddamn oxygen.
And there she is.
Walking down a street in Los Angeles, carrying a brown paper bag on her hip.
Loose, low-hanging jeans and a white tank top. A ponytail.
I don’t expect the dark circles under her eyes. I don’t expect the haunted expression. Don’t expect her to look so lost and confused when the reporter sprints up to her with a camera on his shoulder, firing off questions like bullets, making Jenna jolt.
“Jenna Fairchild! Deadline just announced your new starring role in the Muse trilogy. Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” she murmurs, looking a little dazed. Pale.
Has she been sleeping? Eating?
Where has the color gone from her face?
“This is going to be quite a departure from Hey Betty. You’re going to be playing a sexy assassin. How far are you going to take this new foray into more adult roles? Are there any love scenes in your future? What about nudity?”
“Um. I’m just out trying to buy some groceries.” After a beat of silence, she sets her shoulders and looks the reporter in the eye. “And you shouldn’t be asking me those types of questions. They make me uncomfortable.”
“Right.” He laughs off the admonishment.
But me? I’m so proud of Jenna, my chest could burst. Moreover, I’m so proud that Erin got the witness the moment Jenna stood up for herself.
“You’ve been silent about your recent trip to the mountains, but the picture of you and a mystery man are still circulating. Could you shed some light on his identity?”
“Are they talking about you, Dad?” Erin wants to know.
“Yeah, honey. They’re talking about me,” I mutter distractedly, because I’m too busy witnessing Jenna’s reaction. The bag of groceries slips down her hip a little and it seems to cost all her strength to drag it back up.
“It looked like you were getting pretty cozy with the man in flannel,” urges the reporter in a voice dripping with innuendo. “Was he a fling or something more serious? People are dying to know.”
Just when I think Jenna isn’t going to answer, she whispers, “It was serious. He was everything to me.” A hard swallow. “He still is.”
And then her bottom lip wobbles and she looks directly into the camera, ever so briefly, one flash of those green eyes ripping me wide open.
Crumbling my world around me.
“How do you feel about moving to LA, kid?” I rasp.
Jenna
One month later
“Cut!”
There’s a round of applause from the crew, and I let the tension of the scene melt away, drooping my shoulders.
“That’s a wrap for today, Jenna. Well done. Can’t wait to review these dailies.”
Forcing a smile, I say, “Great. See you tomorrow.”
I did it.
I landed the role of a lifetime.
I’m surrounded by a cast of people my own age that invite me out every night to the Château Marmont or whatever club they’ve decided to frequent. I’ve gone a couple of times, but I can’t do anything but sit in the corner, numb, my drink untouched in front of me.