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I grab more stuff—not all from the sale rack—and fill up my cart. It’s too much, but I don’t care. I’ll send some of it for Christmas.

I look down the aisle and spot the Christmas stuff and my heart pounds with excitement. I do love me some Christmas. So I wheel my cart out of the baby section and head towards holidays. They still have Halloween candy on sale and I’m wondering when the last time was that I had a Snickers when I see it.

My cart comes to a halt, and then before I know what I’m doing, I’ve got it in my hand.

A mask. A black mask. The kind people wear to masquerade parties.

Or Black Bashes.

I put it in the cart on top of the baby stuff and hit the cashier.

One way or another I’m going to figure out what’s going on there tonight.

Chapter Seventeen

#ThatCalmWasReallyTheStorm

“HEY,” Valencia calls out as she enters my trailer.

“Hey,” I say back absently as I stare at the article in the Hollywood tabloid. “Did you see this shit?”

She sits down in the booth across the table from me in the area that serves as a dining room. “I saw. What are you gonna do?”

I look up at her. She’s still the same girl I knew all those years ago. Being on set with her again has been fun. We’re like puzzle pieces that were missing and finally someone put them back together again. She’s even prettier now than she was at sixteen, if you can believe it. I guess wealth and the ability to take extended vacations between projects have that benefit. She only does one movie a year, if that. But every single one of them has been a major blockbuster. “I’ve got to take care of it. I need to stop this.”

“Vaughn, you can’t stop her story. It is what it is. There’s records of her everywhere. These images are just one more reason to let it go. Don’t get involved. They will tear you apart.”

“She’s my wife, Valencia. I can’t just let them threaten this kind of exposure and let it pass.”

“So what’s your answer? You’ve already done what you could.” She points to the tabloid that has a sensitive picture of my wife taken off Twitter. “And they still found a way to get it.”

“Yeah, because that Amy bitch from Buzz sold them.”

“This tabloid says specifically that’s not where they came from. You can’t blame her. I mean, honestly, Vaughn. Your wife took those photos and sent them over Twitter. She knew what she was doing.”

“I asked her to.”

“So what? You used to ask me to do plenty of stupid things if I remember correctly. A lot worse than taking naked selfies.”

“We didn’t have selfies back then.” I grin.

“My point is, I never said yes.”

She’s been saying this all day, but I can’t take the coward’s way out and blame Grace for what’s happening. For what’s about to happen.

“There’s more to this story than you know, Val. A lot more.”

“So tell me. Maybe I can help.”

I consider it. I really do. Valencia has always been on my side and I have no doubt she’d be on my side now. But the knock comes on the door, telling us to be on set in five minutes. Five minutes just isn’t enough time. “Later, maybe. After the party.”

“So you’re going?”

“I said I was. I am. And you don’t have to come because it’s gonna be a mess.”

She reaches across the table and takes my hand. “Normally I’d be up for anything, Vaughn. I’d stand by you for anything. And I still will. But not at that party.” She shakes her head. “They tore apart my best friend a few years ago and we made the mistake of going. I know what’s going to happen and I can’t watch you go through that.”

I squeeze her hand back, thankful that she’s so loyal, that she’s one of the only people in Hollywood who really does have my back. “I get it, Val. I don’t expect you to be there. And thanks for the tickets. I lean over and kiss her on the cheek. “You’re a good friend.”

She smiles coyly. “Well, the next scene says we’ll be more than friends soon. And I can’t wait. So let’s go.”

Chapter Eighteen

#SometimesGettingLostHelpsYouBeFound

I TURN out of the Target parking lot and see the sign for Beverly Boulevard. Yes! I know where that is, so I don’t need the GPS.

I turn and lose myself in thought. I feel like there’s so much going on behind the scenes that I don’t know about, it’s starting to make me nervous. Like Vaughn leaving for work today. He just said a few days ago he was looking forward to the long weekend. Well, working on Black Friday sorta interrupts the long weekend. So what he said was either a lie then, or this is a lie now.

What could they possibly have to do today? Maybe I should stop by the studio and see what he’s up to? I chuckle a little at my ridiculousness… but then I figure why not? I’m allowed to go onto the set. Well, maybe not. But I’m pretty sure no one will tell me no if I show up there.

I look up at the street signs to find one that might take me over near Studio City, but none of them look familiar. In fact, I’m heading towards downtown. Which is not the direction I thought I was going.

I stop at a red light and try to figure out where I am and how to get back to where I need to be. The GPS is on, so I hit the new destination button and I’m about to program it in when the car behind me honks.