Chapter 15

Tamara

Jo’s door was closed when I got home, and loud music blasted from the other side. It was as distinct a “KEEP OUT” sign as any, but I didn’t want to leave it any longer before we figured things out. Jo and I rarely fought. It made me physically uncomfortable, like an itch under my skin that I couldn’t scratch.

I put on the kettle and made us both a cup of tea, then went to knock on her door. The music ceased and a second later she called, “Yeah?”

“Can I come in?”

A pause. “Sure.”

I opened the door to find Jo sitting cross-legged on her bed, her laptop laying on the pillow beside her. “I made you a cup of tea. Want to come to the living room so we can chat?”

“Sure.”

Jo followed me out of the room and sat down on the couch. I handed her a mug of tea and took a seat next to her, angling my body to face her.

“I want to hear why you dropped out of school,” I said. “I’m not going to interrupt. I’m not going to judge. I just want to listen.”

Jo pulled her knees to her chin and chewed on her tongue, watching me. “What’s the point?” she asked. “I told you already and you don’t get it.”

“How about I try to listen better, and you try to explain better, and hopefully by the end of it we’ll understand each other.”

Jo watched me, weighing her options, before she gave a short nod.

“Okay.” She cleared her throat. “Like I said, there was too much pressure. It started to really mess with my head.”

“Pressure from Mom and Dad?”

“Mostly, but the whole pressure cooker environment of the school wasn’t doing anything for me either. I was already on edge, and then at the end of the semester everybody just turns into these automated drones as they slog through finals. It sucks.”

“Mom and Dad just want what’s best for you.”

She shot me a caustic smile. “I know that. But did you or them ever think that maybe what’s best for me isn’t the university track?”

I sat back a little, taking a sip of tea. “What do you mean?”

“Ever since I was little, everything in my life has been leading up to this,” she explained. “It was always finish high school, go to university, get a job. I already had a hard time accepting that was what my life was meant to be, and then you got your big break and it just got worse.”

“I don’t understand,” I said. “Acting is my dream, and it’s far from the conventional job. I thought me putting my all into achieving my dream would encourage you to follow yours.”

“That’s the thing!” She threw her hand in the air in exasperation. “I don’t have a dream, Tam-Tam. I’m getting to the end of university and I still have no idea what I’m going to do with my life. Everyone else has it figured out, Mom and Dad seem to think I’ve got it figured out, when really I’ve been trudging through the past few years with my eyes closed, throwing myself into my studies as hard as I can in the hopes that something will spark and I’ll finally figure it out.” She lowered her hand and her voice a little, chewing her bottom lip in contemplation. “I guess I just realized one day that there are other ways for me to figure it out. And I want to do that. I want the freedom to decide.”

I had to admit that what she was saying made a lot of sense to me, but I still disagreed on a few points. Plus, it felt like I owed it to Mom and Dad to at least try to make her understand their point of view.

“Lots of people don’t have it figured out,” I said. “But what happens when you do find your passion and don’t have the education you need to follow it?”

“What passion would that be?” she asked in a flat tone. “Business management? I don’t think so. And what if I go back and waste all this time on a degree I’ll never use, only to fall in love with surfing or animal husbandry?” She reached for my hand. “Tamara, I’m not asking you to defend my cause to Mom and Dad. All I’m asking is for a little time, a little space, to sort out all the crazy things flying around my head without stuffing it full of university detritus. Can you give me that?”

She seemed so lost in that moment, her big blue eyes full of sincerity and emotion, that I couldn’t deny her a single thing. Especially when she made a good point.

“I’ll call Mom and tell her that you’re staying with me for the summer,” I said. “But after that, you’re on your own. You’ll either need to go back to school or prove to them that this time off is worth continuing. Okay?”

Jo flashed a smile. “Yes! Thank you!”

“And you can’t just spend the whole summer canoodling with your little duke,” I said, waving my finger at her. “You need to do some serious soul searching.”

“I won’t leave a stone unturned,” she said. “This means so much to me. Thank you, Tamara.” She put a hand on my shoulder. “I knew that I could count on you.”

I chuckled and rolled my eyes. “You already won me over. There’s no need to lay it on so thick.” I checked the time on my phone. “Mom should be up now. Do you want to stick around to hear this or...?”

Jo retracted her hand. “I’m going to go back to my room.”

We both laughed, and once her door was closed I dialed my Mom’s number and held my breath.

“Tamara!” she answered. “Please tell me your sister is on a flight back home.”

“Erm, no,” I said. “She’s actually going to stay with me for the summer and work some things out.”

“Things?” she said, as if the word tasted sour on her tongue. “What kind of things could she possibly have to work out?”

“Trust me, Mom, this will be good for her.”

“How could throwing her future away possibly be good for her?”

I closed my eyes, wincing. “Like I said, you’ve just got to trust me. She’s going through a lot and I think it’ll be best for everyone in the long run if she takes a little time to breathe.”

Mom didn’t like that, and fought me on it for another solid five minutes before reluctantly agreeing not to come over and drag Jo back home herself. After we ended the call I dragged myself to my bedroom, exhausted even though I’d done barely anything all day.

I collapsed onto my bed with a happy sigh and, with thoughts of Alexander bouncing through my head, slipped away into a cozy nap.

The next morning, I arrived on set refreshed and recharged. I smiled at everyone I met and practically skipped from my trailer to the costuming department. Even standing still for half an hour while they stuck pins in me did little to tarnish my mood.

Then, of course, I had to walk outside and see Michael.

The fact that I’d started running into him so often seemed suspicious. We’d done a pretty good job of avoiding each other since the breakup, but now it seemed every time I turned a corner he was there.

I was on my way to the refreshments table for a quick coffee before makeup when he found me.

“Tamara,” he said airily, cozying up beside me. “How are you?”

I finished stirring sugar into my coffee and cast him a sideways glance. “Fine.”

I thought my tone made it clear that I wasn’t interested in chatting, but apparently I was wrong.

“What did you get up to on your days off?” he asked. “Spend some time with your sister?”

I turned to face him, frowning. “How did you know Joanne’s here?”

“People talk,” he said with an easy smile. “They talk about all sorts of things.”

For something he said so casually it sure sounded like a threat. But what could he be threatening? Did he know something about my relationship with Alexander? Did he think he knew?

I grew uncomfortable under Michael’s intense stare and shifted my gaze to my cup. “I should get going.”

I passed him, but he stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. Hot coffee spilled over the side of my cup. If I’d known I was about to be accosted by my ex-boyfriend, I would have taken a lid.

“Oh, shit,” he said. “Sorry about that.” Michael grabbed napkins from the table and started to blot my hand, his touch lingering just a little too long.

“I’ve been thinking, you know.” He kept his voice quiet, smooth. It was the voice he used to use when we made love. It was also the voice he used when we made love on screen. “About us.”

I pulled my hand from his grip. “There is no us.”

“I know.” He winked. “That’s the problem.”

“Oh, brother.” I rolled my eyes. “Michael, you can’t be serious. I already told you…”

“You think about me too. I know you do. Plus, the fans are practically begging for it.”

“The fans don’t know how wrong we were for each other,” I muttered. “Though if they paid attention they would.”

This didn’t faze him in the slightest. His smile made it seem like we were flirting, exchanging sexual-tension laden banter when really I was dying to break away. It was moments like this that made me wonder if Michael’s affection for me was ever genuine, or if our whole relationship was some sort of heartless publicity scheme on his end. It twisted a knife in my already sore wound.

“Come on, Tamara,” he said. “We had some great times together, didn’t we? What reason do you have not to give it another shot? It’s not like you’ve got anyone else.”

My mouth fell open in affront. “So now I need to have another guy not to want to get back together with the guy who broke my heart and hung me out to dry?” Shaking my head, I turned and walked away.

Anger pulsed through my veins, but it served me right for pausing to talk to him when I should’ve gotten out of there tout suite the moment he sidled into view.

If Michael’s fans knew what he was really like, would they still worship the ground he walked on? He wasn’t always so bad, but as soon as fangirls from around the world started pumping air into his already too-big head he became insufferable.

And all I could do was hope that the writers would have a fit of mercy and kill him off.