Chapter 2
Blake
Blake Wilson shifted anxiously in the plush leather chair, his knee resumed its bouncing as he gazed out the large windows opposite him.
He was really doing this!
Why in the hell was he so nervous?
He tried to concentrate on the scenery outside, the Santa Monica mountain range and the famous Hollywood sign were in the background, but they remained unseen, due to the thick layer of smog that was blanketing LA on this Tuesday afternoon.
Fucking smog!
Another reason to move!
Blake sighed and reached for his phone again. He had been sitting in this office for the last 20 minutes and he was getting restless. It wasn’t like his manager to keep his biggest client waiting like this. Finally, the door opened and in walked Blake’s least favorite receptionist. “Mr. Wilson, he won’t be much longer. He’s just on a conference call. Can I get you anything? Anything at all?” Blake shifted awkwardly as the receptionist breathed out the last part.
“I’m fine, thank you,” he replied. This was the cue for the receptionist to leave, but she was still lingering. And staring at him in that way all women did, leering at him, running their eyes all over him, like they were willing him to fuck them. “I mean anything,” she tried again, this time she sounded nearly breathless. “I’m fine, thank you,” he repeated, more firmly this time.
Jeez, I get it, you want me to bend you over the conference table and fuck you, so you can tell all your little girlfriends about that time you fucked the movie star.
Being famous sure did have its drawbacks and, if he was being honest, the old him would have taken her up on the offer, but lately things inside him had been changing. He no longer wanted a quick hook-up with a random stranger, he wanted more…
“Well, you let me know if you want anything, anything at all,” the receptionist seductively whispered as she played with the first button on her blouse. When Blake didn’t react, she backed out of the room and gave him a slutty wink.
For the love of god! He wasn’t a piece of meat!
Blake resumed his knee bouncing as he waited for Darrell Hopper, Hollywood’s hottest agent, to show up.
This was going to be the first day of the rest of his life.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Blake, I was on a call with the office in London, how are you doing?” Darrell asked as he stepped into the office. Clad in an expensive Armani suit, with a huge gold Rolex watch weighing down his wrist. “Fine,” he replied as he watched the older Darrell take his seat behind the impressive glass and marble desk that was now separating them. “What can I do for you?” Darrell asked as he leaned back in his chair.
“I came in to tell you that I’m retiring from acting,” Blake replied in an even voice, on the inside it felt like his heart was hammering against his ribs. Darrell went to say something, then stopped, then looked at Blake. “WHAT?!!” he finally managed to shout as he jumped out of his chair. “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?!” He looked hopeful that Blake was just fucking with him. “Nope. I’m serious, I want out. I’m done with Hollywood,” Blake replied, and as the words left his mouth he could have sworn that a weight was lifted off his shoulders.
“Why in the hell would you want out? You’re on top! You’re the biggest name in Hollywood right now!! Brazen Hero has made over 2 billion dollars at the box office! The reason I’m late to this meeting is because I just got off the phone with fucking Nathan Yo, please tell me you know who he is? All his movies are cinematic gold. He has a script for you and from what he told me you could be in the running for an OSCAR! And you come at me with this fresh shit about quitting!”
While Darrell took a breath, his rant only strengthened Blake’s resolve. “I know Nathan Yo. He called me last week to discuss the project you’re talking about and I told him no then. My answer is still no. I’m out, Darrell.”
Darrell opened and shut his mouth. “But… but why?” was all he could manage to voice. “Because I’m 35, I’ve been doing this for the better part of 10 years, I’m tired, and I want to go home and achieve something meaningful with my life.”
“What’s more meaningful than making movies? 35 is the new 25, you’re just burnt out, take six months off and go lay on a beach somewhere and get your dick licked by some supermodels.”
Blake shook his head and tried not to shudder at Darrell’s description. A couple of years ago he’d been doing just that. Darrell was now pacing behind his desk and waving his arms around.
“I want out. I have no contracts with any studios or anyone at the moment, so this is a perfect time.”
Darrell shot Blake a sharp glare, he wasn’t going to let him go that easily and if he were honest, he wouldn’t expect any less than Darrell putting up a fight to make him stay. Darrell tried for another 20 minutes to get Blake to change his mind, his reasons got more and more outlandish. Blake pinpointed the moment that Darrell admitted defeat. He slumped back into his chair and let out a deep sigh. “You’ve been planning this for a while now, haven’t you?”
Blake answered with a sharp nod.
“Where are you going to go?” Darrell asked.
“Back home.”
“To that backwater, one-horse, tiny ass crack of a town you’re from?!” Darrell looked shocked.
Blake smiled as he pictured Encounter Bay, the rolling sand dunes, the turquoise water, the white sand, the salty breeze, and all the locals. Hell, at this point he even missed Batty Betty.
“I guess I’ll get the team to put together a press release and call and tell all the agents,” Darrell said begrudgingly.
“I’d rather you didn’t, I just want to fall off the face of the earth, I don’t want my hometown overrun with paparazzi.”
Darrell shook his head. “If you do that, people will hunt you down even more than they do now! You’re the hottest actor in Hollywood. You don’t think they’ll notice when you drop off the face of the earth??”
“I’ll be yesterday’s news in no time, the tabloids will find someone else to write stupid shit about.”
“I strongly suggest you have a press conference and tell the public you’re retiring. If you don’t, they’ll hunt you harder than an A lister in rehab!”
Blake shrugged his shoulders.
“It’s my decision.”
Darrell held his hands up in the surrender position. “It’s your funeral. Don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”
Blake stood up, and so did Darrell. “Thanks for everything Darrell. If you’re ever in Encounter Bay, Texas, look me up.” Darrell shook his head as he gave him a strong handshake. “Please consider the press conference.”
He nodded as he released Darrell’s hand. “I’ll think about it.”
“I’ll try my best to keep them all guessing, I don’t know how long that will last,” Darrell added.
“I’ll keep the email address you have, but I’m getting rid of my phone.”
“Good luck Blake Wilson, you’re going to need it.”
“Thanks for being the best agent in town.”
Blake turned and walked from Darrell’s huge office.
He was free. Turning his back on Hollywood was the most terrifying and liberating experience of his life.
◆◆◆
Blake smiled as he rolled down the dark tinted window of his over the top SUV, pressed in the keycode for his gate, and parked in the garage. He made his way into his colossal home and slumped on the cool black leather couch.
Holy shit, he had done it.
He had quit.
This had been three years in the making.
He wasn’t happy.
There, he admitted it, and if he was honest, he hated living in LA. He was over the glitzy parties, the shallow glamorous people, and the paparazzi.
Blake leaned on his side as he wrangled his phone from his tight black jeans. It was probably time he let his Mom know he was coming home for good.
“Hello?” came his mother’s cheery voice down the phone.
“Hey, Mom,” Blake replied.
“What’s wrong?” she asked and Blake could hear the concern in her voice. He swallowed, it was now or never, he just had to spit it out. “I was thinking about coming home. I’m over LA and acting,” he said, feeling anxious about telling her but happy at the same time. “Coming home for a holiday?” she asked excitedly. “No, to live Mom, but don’t tell anyone that!”
“This is a shock, let me sit down.” Blake heard his mother rustling around. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? I thought you loved acting.” Blake sighed, how could he explain himself? To the outside world, he was living the dream.
“Nothing’s happened. It's just… there has to be more to life than getting up at 4 in the morning and hitting the gym for three hours, watching what you eat every day, long days on set, and having the paparazzi always taking my picture or the tabloids printing blatant lies about me. I want my simple life back Mom, the one where I was just Blake Wilson, beach bum.”
“Oh honey, if you’re that unhappy, then you should come home, there’s nothing that says you have to keep on acting just because you’ve found some fame. Life is what you make it, Blake.”
He nodded at his mother’s words. She was right of course, he could do what the hell he wanted. He never really got into modeling and acting for the money, but as it stood now he had enough cash to live comfortably for the rest of his life and then some.
“Okay Mom, I’m moving home,” Blake said as a huge smile spread across his face. He held the phone away from his ear as his mother screeched excitedly. At least she was going to be happy about his move.
◆◆◆
Blake smiled as he set another box down and caught his reflection in the huge floor to ceiling windows that ran along the vast length of his house. It was the first time in a long time he had seen himself look genuinely happy. Hot of course, but happy.
For a while, he had been happy here, living the dream, making the transition from model to actor, and doing it well. He was now so in demand that he no longer had to audition for roles. His latest action movie, Brazen Hero, grossed over 2 billion dollars worldwide and had become the most successful action movie ever. While Blake loved every minute on set filming all of the action scenes, he had to go home every night and ice his whole body, just so he could walk the next day. He was getting too old for that shit.
It was time to go. He was burnt out, needed a break, and was going to go out on top and return to a normal life. From there he could figure out what he wanted to do. He craved a simple life, all the way to his bones.
At the moment, he couldn’t go anywhere without a team of girls chasing him down for selfies.
Like, literally. Lucky he was in good shape and could outrun them. Just last week he had to dart into a dry cleaner's just to get away from a mob of about 20. Then there were the paparazzi.
They hounded him. There was a team of at least 3 stationed outside his front gate 24/7.
For a while, Blake loved the attention, enjoyed taking selfies with teenage girls and talking to the paparazzi, but after spending the last 10 years in Hollywood, he was done.
There were only so many nightclub openings or glitzy parties you could attend before you saw through the whole LA scene for what it really was, which is fake.
The women were fake and their hair, tits, noses, chins, asses, and laughter were all an illusion. They were either after a story to tell their friends, how they banged the movie star, or worse they wanted a fairytale ending with the ring, the dress, the ten-page magazine spread, the reality TV program, and all.
The most shocking part was that the men were not far behind in the fake stakes, just as plastic and twice as bitchy as the women.
Everyone was fake friendly and were only out to line their pockets or sell your picture to the tabloids. Yep, it was time to get the hell out of LA.
Encounter Bay was a little coastal town in Texas on a little bay with a massive sand bar which made the ocean look turquoise. The sun heated the shallow water there, making it so warm to lie in that it felt like a tropical island, it was one of America’s best-kept secrets. Blake swore he could smell that salty sea breeze just thinking about it.
It kicked the ass out of any of California’s famed beaches.
He missed the relaxed lifestyle, the people of Encounter Bay, the little community they had there where everyone helped each other and they were all in each other’s business. Hell, he even missed Batty Betty. Blake chuckled to himself as he thought of the arthritic waitress who was still rocking a beehive.
He missed the sprawling mansion backing onto the coast that was his parents’ home. Blake came from money, so he never really got into modeling and acting for the money. When he was 22, he was down at the beach one day when an older lady approached him and asked him if he’d ever considered modeling as a career. He smiled politely and taken her card, then laughed with his buddies at the thought of being a dickwad model. But he called her after the mishap with Violet happened, at that point in time he needed to get away from Encounter Bay, he needed to put distance between them. Moving to New York had been an enormous change for Blake, it was a long way from the coastal Texas town he loved so much. Being a model was easy, turn this way, smile like that. He landed major ad campaigns and even made it to a billboard on Times Square. Fame was something he hadn’t really thought about, and then all of a sudden there were women young and old throwing themselves at him. And soon Violet and Encounter Bay were a distant memory. Blake had been lured by the beautiful women and the glitzy parties, he spent the majority of his 20s traveling the world and getting it on with hot women.
In his 20s that was the ideal lifestyle, but now that he was 35 it was time to grow up a little and decide what the hell he was doing with his life. Before the modeling, he planned on working for his father, but that dream was no longer possible because he sold his business when he realized that neither Blake nor Sophie was interested in it, and his Mom and Dad were now happily retired.
What he did know was that he longed for a quiet life, one away from the spotlight living in his favorite sleepy Texas beach town. Where he could raise a family. Going home was always in his plans, though. At first, he was only going to stay a couple of years in New York until Violet was old enough and their 5-year age gap didn’t seem that bad. Somehow, he had gotten sidetracked into acting. He just hoped he wasn’t too late, Violet Stone was his.
Blake felt his heart skip a beat as he thought about his Violet. He kept tabs on her over the years, filing away the bits of information he got from his mother and sister. He hadn’t seen her in person since he left all those years ago. He had been home many times, but Violet was always elusive, always managed to stay hidden. In the beginning, he had cleared his schedule to go to his mother’s parties and special family occasions in the hope that he would run into her. But she was never there and Sophie always had an excuse ready as to why she wasn’t there. He could tell it hurt Sophie that Violet was missing out on the things that were important to her. Blake couldn’t help but feel guilty, he knew he was the reason she wasn’t there. He realized that she was avoiding him, so he stopped attending his mother’s parties. He didn’t want to make Violet's life hard.
Over the years, he had heard that she’d been with a few different guys, but they never worked out. Sophie would occasionally post photos of the two of them on social media and those images seemed to spur on his desire for her. She was a stunning 17-year-old when Blake left and now she was more beautiful then he could have thought possible. She had curves to die for, her emerald eyes still showed her every emotion, and then there was her smile. There was something about those pouty pink lips that made Blake’s dick quiver.
As far as he could tell from some social media stalking and asking his mother a few well-thought-out questions, at the moment she was still single. Blake was shocked to learn that some slow-talking cowboy hadn’t swept her off her feet.
He really hoped she wasn’t too upset or resistant to what he had planned. Because he was coming for his weird and wonderful Violet with all guns blazing.
And by guns he means his biceps, but you got that, right?