B.C. Knight walked into the quaint dance club in downtown St. George, Utah unsure what he expected to find. Two of his security guys pretended friendship and flanked him, but kept it cool. The place was packed, which, truthfully, could go well or horribly wrong for him. It just depended on how many clubbers recognized him. Grateful it was already past ten-thirty, he walked in, keeping a low profile, and headed straight to the bar.

He was here to check into a drug rehab facility tomorrow, a thirty day, court-mandated stint. His agent was threatening to drop him if he didn’t get his act together. Even though he really wouldn’t because B.C. made him way too much money. He wanted a good time tonight, his last night before being committed to the rehab facility. B.C. looked around and saw an open seat, right at the end of the bar next to a pretty girl.

The girl was talking to the bartender and he could already see as he got closer, it wasn’t an intense flirtation. No, it looked very friendly and cordial. He even noticed how the girl had this…sweetness about her. She looked like she was sincerely laughing.

Goodness, sweetness, laughing, he could use that humor. Especially tonight, after all, he’d told himself this would be his last big hurrah, ever. Well, definitely the last one for a month. It felt like he was always telling himself this was the last night. For partying. For taking the pills. For…all other destructive things.

Unfortunately, recently this untruth had led to a traffic accident and an innocent woman getting injured. Then his agent had to scramble to keep the DUI out of the press because, according to his agent, he was about to play in the biggest movie of his life…if he could ‘keep his head down and put in his time.’

In the darkest recesses of his mind, he didn’t like keeping his sins out of the press. He didn’t like being here and going to some spa to talk about his troubles, Of course, he’d never tried rehab. Hadn’t had to, hadn’t been forced to until now. He was positive the whole touchy feely part of it wouldn’t suit him.

B.C. was, at heart, a military guy. He’d been in Hollywood the past six years. Somehow, he’d been chosen and plucked out of obscurity, when he’d tried out for a cologne commercial to help pay the rent. Next thing he knew, he’d found himself landing in a whole series of Raced and Wrecked, movies about fast cars and mafia and the FBI. He had a knack for it.

He was built for it. His passion was bodybuilding and running. It’d been easy to do when he was in the line of fire as an infantry guy and even easier when he’d come back to nothing and decided he wanted to make something of himself. Two tours in Afghanistan, seeing all the crap in the world made Hollywood living look easy.

His mother had been proud of him. His father had passed. He was grateful he’d been able to buy Mama the Malibu home she’d always wanted. Too bad his mother had let the money go to her head. He clenched his hand into a fist and tried not to think of the latest loser, pool guy husband she’d married in Vegas last week.

As he sat at on a barstool the bartender noticed him “Hey man.” The bartender was tall, blond. “What can I get for you?”

First, B.C. popped the pill bottle lid inside his jacket and looked around the bar, trying to make sure no one noticed. He had a couple more pain pills. He’d received a knee injury in battle, and then re-injured it about six months ago. The old wound wasn’t the problem anymore, B.C. knew that. Originally, the pills had made it possible to finish shooting the film, then they’d become a bad habit.

He pulled the pill into his fingers and stared back at the bartender, flashing him his movie star smile. “Shot of whisky please, and a mimosa for fun." He still had his sunglasses on and kept his head down. The two security guys with him stayed close. One stood on his right side and the other behind him, acting chill, swaying to the music.

Out of nowhere, the girl next to him slid over and whispered, “Better get the pill out of your pocket and take it.”

In a flash, he pulled his sunglasses off and stared into the most snarky green eyes he’d ever seen. Eyes that taunted and caught his jig but most of all eyes that saw him. He searched them and found them rough, full of emotion. “Who are you?”

She may have looked like she was having fun a few seconds ago, but right now she looked a little bit lit up herself. She was flushed. Dang, she was pretty. Her blonde hair was short with curly waves, and looked a bit out of the nineties. How much teasing was going on here?

“Take your pill,” she challenged. “You need the escape, right?”

He didn’t like that she knew this, so he did what he always did, distracted. “Honey, where would you go if you could go anywhere?”

For a second she didn’t answer, and then she looked confused. “What?”

“Anywhere?” He pointed at her. “In the world.”

She leaned back, taking in a breath. “You’re going to pay for it?”

He laughed. “Of course.” Yes, the distraction was working.

She let out a rippling laugh. “Fine, Movie Star. I’d go to Paris.” She turned to her glass of lemon water and circled it lightly with her forefinger. “It’s where Nana always wanted to go but never did.”

His heart clutched. Nana. Her grandmother? “Well, then you should go.” Taking his phone out, he pulled up his Delta app. “Let’s get your ticket booked.”

She looked at his phone then scoffed. “Really? Just like that?”

He nodded and pushed it to her. “Put in your details and you’ll have a ticket.” And she would. He’d done this many times at different bars in various places.

She held his gaze, and then pointed at the bartender. “Could I buy my cousin a ticket too?”

Cousin. Well, that sounded better than boyfriend. He flashed a smile. “You bet.”

She looked at his phone, then back to him. “Is this what you do? Buy everyone off, Movie Star?”

This, he hadn’t expected. It actually kind of jolted him out of his movie star numbness. He turned and slipped the pill into his mouth, not waiting for water.

She let out a sigh. “There ya go.”

He turned back to her. She was looking at the bottom of her lemon water, definitely playing forlorn.

The dreadlock, bartender was back.

She flashed a grin at B.C. “Hey, Cuz, this movie star idiot says he’ll send us both to Paris if that’s what we want.”

“Really?” Her cousin looked him up and down then flashed a smile back to the girl. “What did you do—let him smell some of Nana’s love potion?”

She rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Kevin, c’mon, don’t bring up Nana like that.”

Kevin was back with a whiskey, plunking it down in front of B.C. “B.C. Knight. The Raced and Wrecked movies.” Kevin flashed another grin. “I love those movies.”

The girl let out a sad pfft. “I hate those movies.”

This made him take even more note of the girl. It wasn’t a common thing for someone to tell him they didn’t like his movies. He frowned at her.

She smiled like she knew exactly what she was doing.

Kevin tapped the counter in front of him. “You okay, dude?”

There it was. The extra attention usually felt off-putting, but this guy acted like he actually cared. For a flash of a second, he didn’t like it and didn’t like that there was clearly something going on with this chick and him.

“Fine.” He slugged the drink back and jammed it down, hating and loving the feel of whiskey burning down his throat. “I want to buy you both tickets.” The need to do it was overwhelming. Make her see that he could do it.

The guy she’d called Kevin lifted his chin a notch. “Thanks, but we gotta take care of some stuff here. No Paris for us.”

The girl swung her gaze back to B.C. “Yeah, do you know what it’s like to have someone you love die?”

He was caught off guard by the question.

She shook her head and he noticed her eyes looked very bloodshot. They misted with emotion. "‘Cause it sucks.”

He thought of the way she’d said her Nana would want to go. “I’m sorry.”

She let out a dithering laugh and glowered at him. “Yeah,” she looked away. “I’m sorry, too. Do you know who’s not sorry? My boyfriend.” She gave B.C an accusing look. “Oh, he couldn’t make it to Nana’s funeral because he’s in Africa saving the world.”

B.C. gathered that she was a tad bitter.

Kevin put his hand over hers. “Kira, do you want me to call an Uber to take you home?”

Yanking her hand back she shook her head. “No.”

“Is she drunk?” he asked Kevin.

She only had water in front of her.

Letting out a loud laugh, she turned to him. “Drunk? You think I’m drunk?” She sputtered and then fell into hysterical laughter. She looked crazy, that’s how she looked. “I don’t even drink.” She laughed again.

He didn’t respond.

Kevin shook his head. "It’s just been a hard day.” He poured her more water.

For a few seconds no one spoke and B.C. could feel their palpable grief coming off in waves. He’d always been able to tap into emotions. Sometimes it was to his detriment. He pushed those emotions away. “So, what’s there to do tonight?”

The girl next to him, the one still giving him the kind of look a cop would give an inmate, shrugged. “Nothing for your types here,” she said, sounding even more drunk and self-deprecating. “Go buy someone else a ticket to Paris.”

Kevin turned an accusing stare on him and he didn’t understand why he felt like an idiot for actually offering to buy someone a plane ticket. It made him feel defensive. “Hey, I will pay for it.” He hated sounding like he had to convince them.

“Like I would turn over my personal information to you.” She glared at him like he was some creeper.

Her mood was giving him whiplash. He scowled at her. “Fine.” He waved at Kevin. “I need the bill.”

Kevin seemed to hesitate, but B.C. made a moving gesture in the air to hurry him up. “It’s fine. The bill please.”

Kevin printed the bill and put it down. As B.C. signed the bill, he gave Kevin a five-thousand-dollar tip. Then pushed it over to him. “There, now you have enough money to take you and her.” He shook his head, not believing he was doing this. “To Paris. Have fun.”

The bartender had the nerve to pick up the receipt, study it, and then rip it up. “No way. Not doing that.”

The girl shook her head and crossed her arms, glaring at B.C. “Why would you do that?”

These people were insane. Were they actually mad at him for giving them money? “I just tipped you five thousand dollars dude, so you could buy the tickets yourself.”

Both of them glared at him.

Kira shook her head and he thought he saw tears in her eyes. “You just don’t get it, do you, Movie Star man? You can’t buy happiness. You can’t …” she looked away and then turned back to him, angry, a tear running down her cheek. “You can’t count on anything! Ever!”

He was confused at the anger directed at him.

Kevin took her hand. “Why don’t you chill out, Cuz. Wait twenty minutes and I’ll take you home.”

She rolled her eyes and picked up a glass of lemon water, sipping from it. He noticed her eyes fluttering and a tear leaked out. “Nana is gone. What’s the point of anything?”

Taking in her black dress, he wondered when the funeral had been. He cleared his throat and turned to face the club. He couldn’t deal with other people’s problems he had enough of his own.

Keeping his energy close, he didn’t want to draw attention to himself. He looked around and casually, took another pill out of the bottle in his pocket and popped it into his mouth. He couldn’t exactly pop any tomorrow, could he? With his other hand he picked up the water that the bartender had put down and sloshed it back.

Dang. Loathing and regret washed over him. Did he want to take these pills? Well, tomorrow he wouldn’t have a choice any longer. Wouldn’t have the choice to stay clean.

He covertly looked at the girl, who stared at the bar counter, looking forlorn. Man, she was manic. He got that, but he wanted to stay away from that tonight.

His mind flashed to the rehab place. Part of him had already been doing scenarios in his brain, how hard would it be to get more pills? Sure it was a ritzy rehab place. Wasn’t there always someone willing to get them for you? The other part of him, the disciplined part, wanted to tell the whole drug use thing to screw off. He was done. He hated it. Again, he heard a muffled sound from the girl.

She was crying. The cute, snarky girl who’d seemed to know that he was about to pop a pill in his mouth, which he just had, was bent over her ice water and looked bad. “What are we gonna do, Kevin? What are we gonna do?” She muttered to the bartender.

The bartender leaned over her, whispering what sounded like soothing words to her.

Once again, B.C. thought about the fact that he didn’t need someone else’s problems. He could barely handle his own.

Actually he couldn’t. He turned and stared at the people on the dance floor and wondered if he could take the risk and went out and danced. Did he want to dance? He started thinking about being confined in that new ritzy rehab place.

The song instantly changed to an old eighties rock song.

Before he knew what was happening, the crazy chick was standing in front of him giving him an angry look. “Want to dance?”

Dumbfounded and totally unprepared he held back. “Uh, I don’t want to draw attention to myself.”

Her face went into a wide grin, her green eyes taunting him as she leaned in. “Sissy.” She rushed off, grabbing another guy from the side and pulling him out onto the dance floor.

B. C. wanted to point out she was the one acting totally manic.

The guy she was with wasn’t bad looking. He had a cowboy thing going complete with the hat, belt buckle and stupid smile.

It was annoying. B.C. found himself thinking of ways he could easily take the guy out MMA-style, making his blood start pumping faster. The blonde’s tight black dress held in all the right places and the heels didn’t hinder her moves in the slightest. She was wild at the moment, trying to make the cowboy do some moves to the music with her. Clearly, the guy was an idiot and didn’t know the moves. She was far better than him and trying way too hard to make it work.

B.C. turned back to the bartender who met his eyes and shook his head. “I gather you guys have been through a hard time, but is she ok?”

The bartender's lip curled into a frown, but then he relaxed and wiped the edge of the counter where he was. “Funeral today. It’s been hard on her. She came home from school last week, hoping to spend the summer with Nana.” He shrugged “Our Nana raised us, but out of nowhere she had a heart attack and that’s that.” The bartender’s eyes stayed on the girl.

B.C. who hadn’t felt interested in honestly anyone’s lives in a long, long time asked him, "What’s your full name?”

The blond, grunge guy’s lip twisted into a half smile and he put his hand out. “Kevin Moonwater. Nice to meet you.”

B.C. shook his hand. "B.C. …”

“We’ve established who you are.” Kevin acknowledged him. “I also love your super hero ones. I don’t know how you play Blackhawk so well, but you do it. I’ve gone to all three of those in the theater and to all of your war movies.” His eyes flashed back to him. “I read an article on how you saw a lot of crap on your tours over there, was it…did it help you act in those movies?”

Under different circumstances, B.C. wouldn’t have even held or carried on this conversation, the one that perennially turned into an interview. Not the one about being in war. He hated that question. His eyes scanned back to the girl out on the dance floor looking wild and vulnerable and crazy and free. He was suddenly more interested in this whole situation than he'd been in anything for months. “It was hell,” he said dryly. “I don’t know if I’d say it was worth it for a movie roll, but, I like being in movies.”

Yes, the pills were taking effect. He felt all the edginess gather inside him and dissipate into the bass of the music. He could breathe easier and he felt something loosen inside of his chest. Like the grip that had been there squeezing was letting loose. He picked up his water and took another sip. At this moment, all drugged up, he actually felt more like himself than he had in long, long time.

For a couple of minutes he heard Kevin helping other customers. Yep, he liked the fact the place was packed. It did give him a bit more anonymity.

The song changed and he watched Kira run her fingers through her blonde hair and go to another guy, tugging him out. Obviously, it looked like they all knew each other, because this guy took her into a slow dance, and had a sad look on his face.

B.C. nursed his drink, still keeping it low, waiting and watching her. She was gorgeous. Graceful. She looked loose and free, but he could see her start doing what seemed like ballet moves or turning around the man in ways he wasn’t really prepared for. Not a tango, but she could dance. Holding onto the guy she put her leg up and did a fast twirl.

B.C. was mesmerized by her. He turned back to Kevin. “Is she a dancer?”

Seeming a bit taken off guard, Kevin hesitated, looking at her. Right at that moment she lifted a leg, kicked and did a turn around the guy. He sighed. “She was…don’t know if she’ll be going back to Julliard or not. Nana passed the ranch to both of us.”

B.C. turned to face Kevin. “You own a ranch?”

Kevin shrugged. “I guess I do now. Death comes when you’re not expecting it, right?”

B.C. thought of all the death that he’d been around. Kevin didn’t know the half of it. The worst was carrying his buddy out of that war zone and watching his life seep out of his body. It was…ugly. It could wreck a man mentally if he didn’t have a place to store it. So B.C. stashed it back into the box where it belonged and made a command decision. He took off his hoodie.

Another song had started.

A country song. He was tired of watching a woman who clearly owned the dance floor, not have the right partner. In five steps he was out to her, the guy she’d been dancing with had been leaving, but stopped.

“Can I have this dance?” B.C. was already taking her hand.

She stopped, looking lost for a moment. A look that B.C. recognized and identified on some level he hadn’t allowed himself to go to for a very long time.

“Kira, want to dance?” He asked, again.

She blinked and a wicked glint came into her eye. She squeezed his hand and asked, “Think you can keep up?”

The song was full of hee haw, country energy. B.C. didn’t want to spoil her fun and remind her that he’d been trained only two years ago for a whole cowboy role. He was a country western music star, complete with line dancing and country two-step. Easily he turned her into some complicated moves.

She kept pace. He’d known she would keep pace and now she grinned up at him like he’d just won her a stuffed bear at a carnival. “That’s right, you played ‘Man of Thunder’ didn’t you?” She laughed and although it sounded inflated, he could definitely tell this was part of her manic mood talking. He spun her some more and liked feeling…free. If only for a second, with this woman he began feeling something that had eluded him for a long time.

She laughed and not only mastered the moves he was throwing at her, but took him into variations.

“Are you sure you’re not lit up?” He asked when she hoisted herself into his arms and commanded him to twirl her.

She laughed even harder and he found himself thinking she looked magical at the moment, above his head, her chin up, her hands back. Perfect.

He brought her down and they continued into more steps.

She slowed their steps into a two-step. “I have to admit, I hated the first Raced and Wrecked, haven’t seen the rest. In fact, the worst scene was the scene in Brooklyn when you pretended to be in the mob and you were doing that horrible accent.”

Holy…what? Abruptly, he stopped dancing. “You really hated my movie?” Now she was criticizing his accents?

She laughed again and pulled him into another round of moves. It seemed like it made her happy to see him so upset. “Chill out, Movie Star.”

He found himself having to concentrate on the moves again, he lifted her into the air and she swept each side of his body. He then held her straight up in the air. The whole place was clapping and laughing and when he put her down, he felt the flashes of cameras start.

Another wicked glint was in her eye. “I thought the great B.C. didn’t want to be recognized this evening.”

The way she said it. The way she taunted him with it made him smile. The way his heart raced, this woman was intense.

Another song came on, an eighties hair-band song and he found himself throwing himself into the moves with her. It felt amazing. She was in it to win. Her body jerked and her hair spun and hit him in the face, making him laugh.

The thing B.C. liked about this woman was maybe she was a bit crazy tonight, but she wasn’t treating him like B.C. Knight: Movie Star. She was just having fun.

The song ended and there were people beginning to moving in on him. Luckily, his security guys were there, keeping people at bay.

It wasn’t bad, not like the clubs in LA or various places he’d been.

They went back to the bar and Kevin had waters for them. He had a smile on his face and spoke to her. “Got yourself a partner who might be able to keep up with you.”

She laughed and drank the water. “Maybe.”

Kevin gave her a sincere look. “You have to go back to school, Cuz, that’s nonnegotiable.”

This made the smile on her face disappear. She held Kevin’s eyes then shook her head.

B.C. didn’t know what had just happened, but even in his numb state, he could clearly see something had.

She plunked down her water and glared at Kevin. “I’m going home.”