“It appears I have another stalker.”
As I anticipated, the conversation around the kitchen table ceased. Not quite ready to provide more details, I plucked a particularly decadent-looking piece of sponge cake from the plate in front of me and took a delicate bite.
“Seriously?” demanded my childhood friend, Ally. “I leave Hollywood for, what, two months? And you get yourself another stalker? This town is insane.”
I was too busy savoring Ally’s baking abilities to smile. Her emotional response was to be expected. Born to an Italian family on the East Coast, she rarely held anything back. And that included her cooking—her food preparation skills bordered on sinful. Although I missed her like crazy now that she was splitting her time between living in Hollywood and New York, it was probably just as well when it came to my hips.
“Occupational hazard,” said Faith, like a stalker was no big deal.
“You would know,” shot back Ally.
“She would,” agreed Chloe. She was the final guest seated around my kitchen table at our impromptu gathering.
Faith and Chloe were actresses like myself, but despite both starting their acting careers as children, they couldn’t have been more different. Faith was mid-thirties and had been in the industry for almost thirty years, whereas Chloe wasn’t even twenty-one yet. Faith was tall, dark, and had an air of mystery about her. In contrast, Chloe’s petite frame, chin-length auburn hair and pale complexion gave her a certain innocence. I’d grown to consider them both trustworthy friends.
“OK, so if Lena has another stalker, that makes it five for her. How many have you had, Faith?” Ally asked.
“About that,” replied Faith noncommittally, picking a few crumbs off her lap, her scarlet fingernails gleaming like talons.
“See? Lena’s average,” said Chloe, looking pleased.
“How many have you had?” Ally asked her.
Chloe screwed up her nose, creasing a sprinkling of freckles. “Hmm. I guess I haven’t really had any.”
“Yet,” added Faith. “Your time will come. Even Ally’s had a stalker.”
Ally’s big brown eyes darkened. “Don’t remind me. Or Jacob. Whenever he gets paranoid I’m stuck with a big, muscly security guard. It stinks.”
Faith reached over and patted her hand. “You just don’t like being famous.”
“Damn right.”
Finishing my mouthful, I gave her a reassuring smile. “Well, it’s not only actresses that get to be famous. Being a talented fashion designer attracts attention.”
“And being Jacob Swan’s girlfriend,” Chloe pointed out, referring to Ally’s extremely famous actor boyfriend.
“Shh. Don’t remind her,” Faith said, “or she’ll run back to the East Coast and try to hide again.”
Ally pouted. “I’m not hiding. New York is where my studio is.”
“And Malibu is where Jake’s house is,” Faith shot back.
“Ladies,” I interrupted. “I, for one, am happy to have Ally back in town while Jacob is working on his latest film.”
Ally smiled at me. “And I’m glad to be here, except for this stalker news. So what happened?”
I toyed with the stem of my champagne glass. “I don’t really know,” I admitted, stalling for time. I’d been the one to bring the subject up but it didn’t make it any easier to get the words out. “It started with a few idle threats online.”
“Well, that’s boring,” Faith said. “How do you know it’s not just a troll? God knows there’s plenty of those.”
“Yeah, according to one troll, my acting abilities peaked when I starred in School Daze,” Chloe told us.
Faith’s lips curled in amusement. “What? Weren’t you, like, eight or something?”
“Nine,” replied Chloe. “Apparently it’s all been downhill since then.”
Faith let out a short, loud laugh. “Don’t worry. It’s about time for a comeback then. I think I’m up to my third one now.”
“That’s because you’re a senior citizen,” Ally joked, grinning at her.
Faith pointed a razor sharp nail in her direction. “Watch it, Valenti. Or I’ll cancel that order for the gown.”
“Don’t you mean pant-suit? I’ve always thought they were underrated.”
Chloe giggled, then her smile faded when she saw my serious expression. “Sorry. We shouldn’t be goofing off. This is important.”
“It’s alright,” I said. “Your reactions are actually quite comforting. It makes me feel like it’s not that big a deal.”
“You don’t know that,” Ally said, her focus back on me. “Please tell me you’re having someone look into it.”
I stifled a sigh. “Unfortunately, yes.”
Ally shot me a puzzled look. “Why is that unfortunate?”
Chloe answered for me. “Marc Romero.”
I closed my eyes and let out the sigh. “Like I said.”
“I don’t know what you’re complaining about,” Chloe said. “He’s hot.”
“He is not hot,” I corrected. “He’s socially stunted, rude, abrupt and a major pain in—”
“The ass?” Chloe finished for me. “He’s got a nice one of those too.”
“I haven’t noticed,” I said firmly.
“His ass is quite nice,” Faith said. “What is it with you two, anyway?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You’ve got this whole love-hate thing going on.”
I pushed my glass away distastefully. “Well, we certainly have a well-refined dislike of each other, I can tell you that much. I don’t know where you got the love bit. That’s laughable.”
“I don’t see you laughing,” Faith said, raising a dark eyebrow.
“Does that mean the rumors on-set are true, then?” Chloe butted in. “Romero will be hanging around?” Chloe was playing a smaller role in the film I was currently starring in.
“Not if I can help it,” I muttered.
Chloe frowned. “I don’t see how you can get out of it, Lena. After the incident in your van—” She winced, then shut her mouth.
“What incident?” Ally demanded.
Chloe’s blue eyes rounded in dismay. “I’m so sorry, Lena, I didn’t mean—”
“Tell me!” Ally shouted, banging her fist on the table and making us all jump. If I didn’t come clean soon, her protective tendencies meant she was liable to start throwing food.
Chloe looked down at her lap, while I faced Ally. “It’s nothing. Someone got into my caravan while I was on-set, that’s all.”
Ally narrowed her eyes at me. “And what? Baked you a cake? Hid and waited so they could attack you? A bit more detail please, Lena.”
I reached for my glass again, but didn’t drink from it. “They didn’t hurt me. They were gone by the time I got back.”
“Then how did you know someone had been there?”
Chloe met my eyes again, her peaches-and-cream complexion dangerously pale.
I gave her a sympathetic smile, as if I wasn’t the one who had been the victim, then reluctantly met Ally’s eyes. “Because he left semen on my bed.”
Ally’s hand flew to her mouth, and even Faith appeared shocked, muttering a curse under her breath.
My mouth felt parched after my admission, so I brought the glass to my lips and forced myself to drink. The bubbles tickled my throat as it went down and I coughed.
Ally looked close to tears. “God, Lena. Do they have any idea who it was?”
“Not yet. Marc’s looking into it.”
Chloe nodded. “That’s why they want Marc on-set. So he can investigate and keep an eye on Lena.”
“Who’s they?” Ally asked.
“The production team,” I said. “They don’t want to take any chances, particularly if it’s someone we work with.”
Ally jumped up. “Damn it, Lena. Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Wait. Don’t answer that. You didn’t want me to worry, I know.” She started pacing the length of my open-plan kitchen. “It’s got to be some sort of intimacy stalker. You know, to do something like, like . . . that. Or an incompetent suitor, I suppose that’s plausible too . . .”
“What the hell’s she talking about?” Faith asked us as Ally continued to do laps of my kitchen.
“I think she researched stalkers when she had one,” I told them, then twisted to face Ally. “Stop it, will you? It won’t do any good. You and I both know it could be anyone.”
Ally threw up her hands in defeat. “I know! The world is full of crazy people who are drawn to celebrities, it’s ridiculous.” She stopped pacing and her practical sneakers squeaked on the tiles. “Can you get the . . . the substance tested to try to identify them?”
“They’ve already done that,” I told her. “They tested what was left behind for DNA and were able to get a sample, but because there’s no suspect they can’t link it to anyone. They’ve run it against the criminal database as well but nothing came up.”
“Oh man.” Ally ran her hands through her shoulder length brown curls and dropped down on the seat next to me. “Aren’t you worried? You don’t seem worried.”
“You know me.”
“Yes, I do.”
“We all do,” said Faith. “You save up all your drama for the cameras.”
I managed a tight shrug. “I can’t do anything about. I just have to get on with things.”
“And let Marc do his job,” Chloe added.
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“That’s Lena for ‘I’m pissed off,’” Faith said.
“I’m not pissed off.”
Faith cocked her head to one side. “Alright, you’re not pissed off. You’re unimpressed.”
“A bit.” I felt my skin prickle with imaginary needles at the memory of walking into my trailer. The truth was, I was still too sickened by the whole ordeal to feel truly pissed off about having Marc Romero involved.
“Well, we’re angry,” said Ally.
“Real angry,” Chloe agreed and reached over to take my hand. “But not about Marc. And I’m so glad I’m starring in this movie with you. I can keep an eye on you.”
“I’ll be fine,” I told them, determined to put the subject to the back of my mind. If I thought any more about it, I’d feel so sick I wouldn’t be able to enjoy Ally’s treats. I stood up. “Now, who wants a top-up?”
*
By the time my friends left it was close to dinnertime. A few months ago, Ally would have stayed and cooked some more delicious, fattening food for us both. Since she met Jacob she was keen to spend as much time as she could with him. Between the hours spent setting up her new fashion label, Allegra Valenti, and Jacob’s hectic shooting schedule, it wasn’t always easy. I was pleased their relationship seemed to be working out, though. At least someone’s was.
I sighed and finished putting the last of the dishes into the dishwasher. My cook, Melina, had been this morning and left me dinner ready to heat, but I didn’t feel hungry after Ally’s food. I briefly contemplated doing a workout session in my state-of-the-art home gymnasium, but couldn’t muster the energy.
Instead, I walked around the island bench to the French doors overlooking the garden. My heels echoed on the tiles, reminding me I was alone in the house. I was a person who enjoyed my solitude, but lately the house had become too big. If I was honest with myself, it had always been too big. When I’d first viewed the expansive estate, I’d even said so, but my soon-to-be ex-husband had insisted.
Looking out the window, I noticed the trees sat still in the dusk, like they were watchful and knowing.
I’d never had a man insist on spoiling me, not even my father, so I’d relented. Now all I wanted to do was sell the damn house and get away from the long hallways and empty rooms.
And I would, I promised myself, but not yet. The time wasn’t right. When Ally’s stalker had targeted her she’d been staying with me and I’d been forced to increase security. Now I had someone in the gatehouse twenty-four-seven and the latest technology keeping me safe. With a stalker of my own to worry about, the most logical thing for me to do would be to stay here until Marc found out who they were. If the brooding security specialist had anything to do with it, he’d probably suggest I not leave the grounds until then. But I had a movie to film.
And I’d be damned if I would stay holed up here like a prisoner in my own home.
My phone buzzed on the table behind me and I walked over to pick it up. It was the devil himself.
Hey Princess. I’ll be picking you up to take you to set in the AM. I’ve cleared it with Jay.
I groaned because I knew no one could hear me, and typed a reply.
Jay was obviously too scared to tell me because you know what my answer is.
Jay was my head of security—and the prospect of him being scared was absurd. The burly forty-something African American had served in Afghanistan before I’d hired him. I had a team of bodyguards at my disposal to watch over me, but I always felt safest when Jay was by my side.
My phone buzzed again.
Doesn’t matter what your answer is. I’m picking you up at 5.30am.
I momentarily considered not answering, but typed another message.
Make that 5am. I have hair and make-up.
I put the phone back down on the table with a satisfied smile at my white lie, not expecting a reply. I had no idea what it was about the man, but he brought out the worst in me. In the industry, I was lauded for my professionalism and hard-working attitude, but if he was going to call me a princess, I might as well act like one.
For the sake of my reputation, I hoped he found the stalker sooner rather than later.