Scandalous (6 page)

Chapter Eleven

Beth

I’m running late, which is a normal occurrence for me, but turning up late for your first meeting with a potential employer is not a good look. Thank God we know each other and he’s already aware of my inability to keep track of time.

When Cameron called me to arrange a coffee date to go over the details, I didn’t hesitate. Even after my argument with Roman the previous night, I refused to let anything stand in my way—especially when he couldn’t give me a good reason for not wanting me to do this.

I practically run inside the small coffee shop off Fifth, where we arranged to meet. Cameron waves from a table near the back, the friendly smile on his face instantly relaxing me. Right away I remember how well we got along during the last filming, and how this probably won’t be any different.

“Beth,” he gushes, standing up as I approach the table. He wears a powder blue business suit that only he could pull off. His blond hair is perfectly styled and I’m sure I can see traces of makeup on his flawless skin. “You look amazing.” He leans over and kisses me on the cheek, taking my hand in his.

I smile and sink into my seat, breathless from either the excitement or jogging the last few blocks here to avoid being late. “I’m so excited about this,” I admit. “I was up all night reading the screenplay, and I’m in love with this story.”

“I’m so glad to hear that.” He grins. He pushes a latte across the table toward me. “I hope you’re still drinking the same? I took the liberty of ordering for you. They get quite busy in here just before the lunch rush.”

I grin and reach for the drink, secretly pleased that he remembered how I take my coffee. The second the hot liquid moves down my throat, I feel myself relax. I was in such a hurry this morning that I had to forgo my usual wake-up coffee—something my body was not happy about.

“So,” I begin, my heart racing. “What now?”

“I wanted to talk to you about the filming schedule and timeframe we will be working from so you can decide whether this fits where you are at the moment. Are you still taking a break from your music?” he asks.

I nod. “Indefinitely.” I swallow hard. I avoid talking about my music career wherever possible because it resurfaces too many bad memories. I’m not sure I can ever go back to that, or that I even want to. That part of my life is over. I’ve moved on. Or at least, I’m trying to.

“Okay, good. So this is what we are thinking.” He slides a folder across the table to me.

I reach for it, my hands shaking. I blush, embarrassed at how nervous I am. I know Cameron and I know show business. I guess that proves I’m only human. I’ve experienced many things that lots of people could only dream of in my life, but there are still things that have the ability to make me feel like a kid at Christmas.

Starring in a blockbuster along some of the hottest names in film is a dream come true. I only wish Roman was as excited for me. My happiness falters for just a second as I think about him.

I need to do this for me.
This is my way of getting back a little of the independence I’ve lost. I feel like at the moment all I’m doing is going through life waiting for things to happen instead of making them happen. I can’t blame Roman for not understanding that, because he doesn’t know the true extent of my anxiety. Who knows, maybe I
should
tell him. Maybe then he would understand why this was so damn important to me.

Pushing thoughts of him out of my head, I focus on what’s in front of me. I need to think clearly right now, and all he is going to do is cloud my judgment.

I quickly scan through the locations and dates, nodding my approval. Not that anything would be a deal-breaker for me accepting this role. I’d move to the other side of the world if they wanted me to. Then again, London pretty much
is
on the other side of the world.

“This all sounds great,” I say, snapping the folder shut. “Honestly? I can’t wait to start this. There’s no point skirting around it. I’m one hundred percent in if you’ll have me.”

Cameron clasps his hands together, his mouth breaking into a grin. “I’m so pleased to hear that. So, officially, filming won’t begin for another month, but we want to get all the cast and crew together in the next few weeks for some promotional shoots. Probably on location.”

“That sounds great,” I say, unable to wipe the smile off my face. “I’m so thankful for this opportunity, Cameron. I can’t thank you enough.”

He laughs as he stands up, sticking his hand out for me to shake. “Don’t thank me, Beth. You earned this.”

**

As I walk through the front door, I notice the envelope sitting on the welcome mat. Bending down, I pick it up, turning it over in my hands. I don’t recognize the writing, but my name is scrawled across the front in black ink. I tuck it into my bag and continue inside, carrying my armloads of shopping with me.

I discard my purchases on the bed and flop down beside them. Slipping my shoes off, I gently massage my tired feet. Four-inch stilettos probably weren’t the best idea for an afternoon of shopping, and I’m sure I’ll be paying for it for the rest of the night.

I spend the next half-hour trying everything on—something I don’t do in stores. Things never look the same when you get them home. You can think you will like the hottest thing on earth in the confinement of a tiny change room, but when you leave the store it’s a whole different story. I’d much rather just buy and then try. If I can be bothered, I’ll take back what I don’t like. Otherwise, I’ll just dispose of them in a Goodwill bin.

Once I’m satisfied, I make my way into the kitchen to prepare dinner. I’m not much of a cook, but I do know my way around the kitchen. Roman usually does most of the cooking, but lately he’s been working later and later, and after our fight, who knows when he’ll be home tonight.

I pull out my phone to check the messages from him. Nothing. I shrug. Oh well, his loss. He won’t get to experience my once-in-a-lifetime creamy salmon pasta.

I haven’t told Roman about my meeting yet—mostly because I know it will probably just start another argument. I don’t see what his problem is. How would he like it if I turned around and told him I wanted him to stay away from the club? Whether it’s singing or acting, what does it matter? I’ve got to make a living, because I refuse to depend on him—or anyone else, for that matter.

I heat my frying pan and gently lay in my fresh fillet of salmon. Once it’s golden, I carefully turn it over, giving it a minute on the other side before resting it on a plate. Next I check my pasta, which has been gently simmering about five minutes. Perfect. I throw together some garlic, fresh herbs, a little bit of chili, and some cream, and gently flick the salmon through the sauce before finally adding the pasta. My mouth waters at the smell of my creation. Even I’m impressed. Here’s hoping it tastes as good as it looks.

I flick the TV on and set my dinner down in front of it. It’s delicious. I only wish someone were here to share the experience of what might be the finest meal I ever cook. I think about calling Coop, but then decide against it. A, because I can just imagine Roman walking in on us laughing, and B, because I’m not convinced that our friendship is just friendship to him. I don’t want to encourage him, but at the same time he’s my best friend—and with Roman being so distant, I’m at a loss with who I can talk to. I slouch back on the couch and sigh. I hate feeling alone. It’s hard work trying to please everyone.

**

My neck is killing me. I groan and reach up, gently trying to massage out the kinks caused by falling asleep at an awkward angle on the couch. The TV is blaring, and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim room. I fumble for my phone and see that it’s nearly three a.m. Shit. I’m surprised I slept so long, and am even more surprised that Roman didn’t wake me up.

Gingerly, I get to my feet and walk down the hall toward my bedroom. I peer inside, only to be greeted with an empty room, the bed still perfectly made up. It’s obvious he’s not home yet. Or maybe he decided to stay at his place. Anger seeps through me. Is it too much trouble to send me a message?

Fucking hell.

I flick on the light and storm over to the bed, throwing myself onto it. I’m beyond annoyed. It’s just then I remember the letter from earlier today. Sitting up, I reach for my bag and rifle through it until I find what I’m looking for. I gently ease the envelope open and pull out a handwritten letter. What the hell is this? Who writes letters in this day and age? Curious, I begin to read.

Dear Beth,

I struggled for a long time with what the best way to do this was, and in the end I opted to write you a letter because I wanted to give you time to digest what I’m about to tell you without the pressure of me being there.

You have no idea who I am, but I know who you are. Regardless of what you might think, every day for the past 21 years I’ve thought about you. I’ve wondered what you were doing, what kind of person you were. I look at how much you’ve achieved and I’m beyond proud of you.

So many times I’ve wanted to contact you and I’ve talked myself out of it, sure that you were better off without me in your life. Maybe you are. Maybe I shouldn’t be contacting you, but I can’t help myself any longer. I need to know my daughter. I need to know who you are. I need to make up for the years that I missed.

Leaving you was a hard decision, believe it or not. I thought cutting myself out of your life was the best thing for you, no matter how hard it was for me. I hope you can understand and forgive me. I’d love the chance to get to know you.

When you’re ready… If you’re ready, I would love to see you.

Yours,

Your Dad, Carlos.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.
My heart races as I struggled to breathe. This has to be a joke. After all these years he thinks he can waltz back into my life? After what he did to my mother? I went through hell because he deserted me. He chose his fucked up life over his own daughter and I can never forgive him for that.

I read the letter again, the words not sinking in. I can’t let myself believe this is actually happening. I refuse to open myself up to getting hurt. It’s happened too many times before and I just can’t let it happen again. Angry, I shred the letter as wet tears roll down my cheeks.

My eyes widen as I realize something: he knows where I live. That letter wasn’t mailed, it was hand-delivered. Has he been watching me? I shudder, crossing my arms over my chest. Of course he has. I run to the front door to check that it’s locked. I have to get out of here.

Shaking, I grab my phone and dial the only person I know will answer.

“Beth?” Coop mumbles. “Are you okay?”

“No,” I whimper. “Can you… I need to get out of here. Now.”

“Sure,” he says, sounding much more awake than he did a moment ago. “Give me twenty minutes and I’ll pick you up. Are you at home?”

“Yes,” I sniffle, wiping my eyes. “Thanks for this.”

Hanging up the phone, I reach for my duffel bag and begin shoving some essentials in there—a few changes of clothes, toiletries, chargers. Instinctively, I turn around and pick up the tiny pieces of letter, shoving them in the bag too. I zip up the bag and quickly change into a pair of sweatpants and a sweater. I grab my hoodie and throw that on too.

Chapter Twelve

Coop

She races out the front door the second I pull into her driveway. I have no idea what’s going on, but she looks like shit. Her eyes are red and puffy and her hair is a tangled mess. I wait as she throws her bag on the backseat and jumps into the car.

“Where do you want to go?” I ask.

“Anywhere,” she mumbles, waving her hand. “Just drive. Go.”

I nod, insert the car into gear, speeding off. My first thought was she had a fight with Roman. Why else would she call at three in the morning? I swear to God, if he hurt her I’ll fucking kill him. My grip tightens on the steering wheel as I try to contain my anger.

“What happened?” I ask gently after a few more minutes. She still hasn’t said anything and I’m worried. I take the first exit onto the freeway. It’s pretty quiet, as you’d expect this time in the morning. It’s a cold and overcast morning, and even with a jacket on I’m freezing. I reach over and crank up the heater.

“I can’t… Can we not talk about it?”

“Sure,” I say. “But I need to know if you’re okay.”

I’m worried. I haven’t seen her like this since the attack. My throat constricts as guilt again begins to consume me. Am I ever going to get over not being there for her? It seems no matter what I do the guilt is still there, eating me up.

“I’m fine. I just needed a friend, okay?” she asks and I shrug. Something tells me I’m not going to get much more than that out of her at the moment.

She reaches forward and fiddles with the radio until she finds a station playing crappy pop music. Sighing, she leans her head against the window, quietly wiping away a fresh wave of tears that are threatening her eyes.

I head to the first place I think of: my sister’s cabin in the woods. It’s weird taking Beth to the place where Mia and I hooked up, but I can’t think of any other option.

God, Mia.

In the last few days we began talking—like really talking. It actually felt like we were getting somewhere, that maybe our relationship could be saved. I glance over at Beth, my jaw tensing. I could only imagine what Mia would think if she knew I was with Beth. That once again I had dropped everything to come to her rescue. I reach over and turn up the radio, trying to drown out my thoughts.

The rest of the drive goes by quickly and uneventfully. Before long, I’m pulling into the driveway of the cabin. It’s just as beautiful as I remember it. Beth, who had fallen asleep about halfway into our trip, stirs and opens her eyes.

“This place is nice,” she mumbles, rubbing her eyes. She unclips her seatbelt and opens the door, reaching into the back for her bag.

I get out too, yawning as the cold air hits my face. “Yeah, it’s my sister’s. It was the only place I could think to take you.”

She turns to me and smiles. “Thanks for this, Coop. I always seem to be running to you for help.”

“I’m always gonna be there for you,” I murmur. I slam my door closed, making her jump. “Sorry,” I say sheepishly. “Let’s get inside, huh?”

I take her bag from her and walk up the stairs to the front door. The keys are where I thought they would be. I unlock the door and let Beth inside, dumping her bag on the floor before going back outside to turn the power and water on. The sun is starting to come up. I look out over the perfectly still lake. A thick layer of fog hangs in the air, and in the distance I can hear birds calling. I can’t ignore how romantic the setting feels or the question that keeps running through my mind.

Why did I bring her
here
?

Walking back inside the cabin, I find Beth curled up on the couch covered in a blanket to try and keep warm. I grab an armful of firewood and start lighting the fire. Beth watches me, though she seems lost in her own world.

“Cheer up. Your life can’t be worse than mine.” My comment earns me a smile. Rocking back on my knees, I stand up and survey my work. The fire is crackling away nicely. I walk over and sit down next to Beth. “You want to talk yet? You have to tell me what’s going on eventually.”

She lowers her gaze, a sad smile on her face.

“I got a letter from my Dad. I kind of freaked out.”

“Not surprising,” I reply. Wow. I knew enough to know he had never really being on the scene for most of her life. “What did he say?”

“The usual crap you’d expect. He’s sorry and he wants to get to know me.”

“Heavy,” I murmur. “No wonder you freaked out.”

“I called you because I got scared. The letter was hand delivered, which means he’s been to my house. I wasn’t ready to deal with that.”

“And Roman?” I ask.

“I have no idea where he is,” she laughs bitterly. “We haven’t been getting along great lately. Kinda like you and Mia, I guess.”

“Mia and I have actually been working things out,” I mumble.
Though if she finds out I’m away with Beth that will change.
“I fucked things up, but I’m doing my best to fix them. I just hope I’m not too late.”

Beth eyes me for a second before she responds. “So, you’re sure that’s what you want? A life with Mia?”

I nod. I am sure. It’s like I’ve finally figured out that relationships were hard. They don’t just work without putting effort in. Mia is a great girl and I love her more than anything.

“After Ivan, I blamed myself for so long for not being there for you. I still do.”

“But there wasn’t anything you could’ve done,” she protests, reaching for my hand.

“I could’ve been there for you. I swore to myself I’d never let you down again, and I think it became an obsession. I shut everything else out so I could make sure I was able to protect you if you needed me.”

“I don’t need you to protect me, Coop. I just need you to be my friend,” she says softly. “I’m glad we had this talk. I was worried about you.” She leans over and hugs me. I kiss her cheek.

“So, you and Roman? What’s going on there?” I ask, curious.

She groans and slumps back in her seat. “Oh I don’t know. Everything? He’s so secretive. Late nights, moody…if I didn’t know better I’d be worried that he is cheating on me.” She turns to me and narrows her eyes. “I even caught Scarlett trying to mount him.”

I snort, which earns me a glare. “You’re kidding me. What did you do?”

She shrugs. “He told me she came onto him, and I believe him. She’s a skank. I want to punch a hole in her face,” she growls. “I just wish I knew what was up with him.”

“I’m sure he’ll tell you when he’s ready,” I say. “I’m just going to give Mia a call and let her know I’m okay.”

I walk through to one of the bedrooms, closing the door behind me. I send a text to Mia, then scroll through my contacts until I find Luke’s name. I’d forgotten about him until I’d heard Beth speak about Roman’s odd behavior.

“Hey dude, I was like just about to call you.”

I chuckle at his enthusiasm, wondering what gear he was on at the moment.

“Any information on my friend?” I ask hopefully.

“Sure do! He’s a dick.”

“I knew that much,” I say, my voice dry.

“No, as in he’s moonlighting as a private detective. He’s had lots of contact with a guy named Carlos over the last month. Maybe a client?” he suggests. “I can send you through all the information I have if that helps?”

“Great, thanks man,” I say. I hang up and check my messages for a reply from Mia. Nothing. I sigh, running my hands through my hair as I think about what Luke told me.

Do I tell her or not? If she finds out I had someone follow Roman she will fucking kill me. On the other hand, if she finds out from someone else, the consequences will be so much worse. I’m over lying. To everyone.

Taking a deep breath, I walk back out to the living room. Beth smiles at me. Her head is resting on the arm of the sofa and she’s stretched out. She looks exhausted. I hesitate, and she picks up on it immediately, sitting up.

“What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

“You know I love you, right? Anything I do is only because I worry about you.”

She groans and covers her face. “God, what have you done, Coop?”

“I had a private investigator follow Roman.” She groans again. I quickly continue. “I was just worried about you and how little you knew about him.”

“So what did you find out?” she asks in a dry tone. I breathe out, relieved that she isn’t angry. If anything, she seems amused.

“Not much. He works as a private investigator. That’s about it,” I say sheepishly. “I know it was stupid and I should’ve stayed out of your business. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” she warns. “So, that was it? Nothing else?” she asks.

“Just a lot of contact with some dude named Carlos Ferreir,” I shrug. Her eyes widen and the color drains from her face. “Beth?” I prompt. That name obviously means something to her.

“Carlos Ferreir?” she repeats. “Fuck.”

“What is it?” I ask, concerned.

“Carlos is my father.” She closes her eyes, her head dropping to her hands. “Why is Roman working for my father?”