I wanted a drink. It wasn't an option, but I wanted it anyway.

I'd spent the first two and a half years after Maya’s disappearance, trying to climb out of the hole I'd dug for myself, but I'd failed so many times, it was a wonder I’d even kept trying.

The first six months––when it had hurt the most––Mrs. B had done her best to make sure that there were always something cooking to fill the hole in my belly. She kept me straight.

But then one morning, I walked into the kitchen and found her lying still on the floor.

I think what little had been holding me together snapped when I knelt and touched her cheek. Felt the cool skin under my fingers.

She’d been the one person who’d been there, trying to understand.

Gone.

Then, two years after I’d discovered Mrs. B on the floor, I found myself standing at the foot of her grave. I hadn’t been sober when I got there. I’d lost my keys. I ended up just sitting down and talking, then crying, then talking some more.

I hadn’t had an acting job in over a year. Nobody wants to hire a drunk bum who can’t remember his lines or forget to show up. My dad had trouble getting work not long after Mom died, and I began to understand why things were so hard for him.

But I couldn’t just give up.

Some part of me kept thinking Maya might still be out there.

That she might still be okay.

That was what I’d told Mrs. B.

And like she was standing there, I swear I heard the old woman’s voice say, then maybe you should straighten yourself out, Glenn.

Of course, she was right, so, six months ago, I'd finally did something about it.

It had taken every bit of my willpower and for the past five months, I’d been sober.

And two months ago, I’d walked into Peter’s office and told him I wanted my life back.

He’d accepted to help me under the condition that I wouldn’t question him and his methods.

I still wasn’t entirely certain I liked the methods though.

“Glenn!”

I looked over at the knock-out gorgeous woman who was calling me. Her long red hair was swept up into an elegant knot, baring the curve of her neck, and her dark eyes smiled up at me. But the smile wasn’t genuine.

There wasn’t much of anything about Kimberly Larkin that was genuine.

“Yes, Kimberly?”

She reached out a hand and placed it on my arm. “The children want to know if you’re going to do the fireworks with them.”

Her eyes seemed to shout nooooo.

But the two of us had been given explicit instructions from Peter.

The children who lived at the orphanage in the southern part of L.A. didn’t really get to do much in the way of the holidays, and Peter had gotten wind of the picnic they were holding for the kids. We were out here to show support and have our pictures taken, and make sure residents around the city—and the whole damn state—knew there were kids who needed homes.

Looking away from Kimberly, I met the hopeful eyes of a little girl staring at me.

“I love fireworks,” I said to her, managing to smile. In all honesty, I could care less about the festivities taking place, and being here with coolers full of beer and servers wandering around with cocktails was enough to have me grinding my teeth.

But, I’d rather be around kids and fireworks, than having a one-on-one with Kimberly.

The two of us had been pretty much pushed together by Peter. She had developed the reputation of being a pit viper—and I could see why.

I was trying to rebuild my career that had gone down in flames. Why in the hell Peter thought two fucked-up individuals like us could make the public love us, I had no idea.

But then again, I had promised not to question his methods and I stand by my word.

As the girl with the solemn eyes continued to watch me, I crouched down in front of her. She had freckles all over her nose and thick, curly hair that somebody had tried to tame into submission with a bow. “You’ve got pretty hair,” I told her.

She went pink. “Miss Carol says it’s a nightmare.”

“Miss Carol is probably jealous because she doesn’t have pretty hair.” The girl smiled now, a real smile that displayed a gap in her teeth. “Looks like somebody had a visit from the tooth fairy.”

The smile dimmed then. “The tooth fairy doesn’t know how to find me.”

My heart broke a little for her and I wanted to kick my own ass. Stupid moron. “She can’t find you, huh?” Shifting around until I could dig into my pocket, I pulled out a few bills. “That’s awful. You know…being in the movies, you get to know a lot of people. I got connections. I’ll see if I can figure out a way to let her know where you are. In the meantime, though…” I pushed the bills into her hand. It was five bucks. At this carnival, it would stretch forever. Plenty of the booths were free for the kids to play, but there were things that cost money. “Why don’t you find your friends and see if you can’t spend some of this? I’ll square up with the tooth fairy if I ever track her down, okay?”

“Wow!” She stared at the money with wide eyes, then looked at me. “Thank you.”

She hurtled off as though she feared I’d take the money back. That smile of hers lingered with me as I stood and met Kimberly’s eyes.

“You’ve done your good deed for the day, darling.” As she spoke, she plucked a cigarette from her clutch and held it to her lips. “Can we go?”

She leaned forward slightly, her intent obvious.

Without batting a lash, I said, “I don’t have a lighter. I quit smoking, remember?”

“Damn.” She fumbled her clutch open and stared inside. “I didn’t bring mine. It ruined the line of my purse.”

The glare she shot me made it clear that was my fault. I shrugged, turning to skim the crowd, smiling absently when people waved or met my gaze.

“Now that I can’t smoke—and I promised Freddie I wouldn’t drink—can we please go?” Her voice pitched an octave higher at the end, making me grind my teeth just that little bit more.

“I promised Peter I’d stay until the end.” I lifted a shoulder when she started to grumble under her breath. “Hey, we said we’d come. We’re here. It will be over soon.”

She moved in closer to me then, eliminating all but a few inches between us. With her hand on my arm, she stared up at me. “Will you at least spend the night and make one thing about this day worth it?”