I’d been dreading this moment.

My hands gripped the edge of the leather seat as Viktor drove up the long driveway to Mama’s house. It felt strange thinking about it in those terms, but it wasn’t my home any longer, that was for sure.

With some distance, I saw the estate with fresh eyes. Gosh, I’d become blinded to the grandeur of it over the years, mainly because I’d never known any different. In comparison to Faith’s place, which was still very luxurious, Mama’s house was like something out of a movie. In typical April Allen style, she’d gone for ostentatious above all else. The commanding two-level house looked as if it had been plucked out of the Deep South. Massive pillars wrapped around the entire home, creating generous balconies, and several gable windows sat atop the roof. I recalled, years ago, Mama making a big fuss about wanting a man-made pond complete with alligators, but Viktor had quickly put a stop to that idea.

“Do you think it affected me growing up here?” I asked Viktor.

His eyes met mine in the rear-view mirror. “In what way, Tinker?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. This is hardly the real world, is it?”

“It’s your mother’s world,” he corrected. “Not yours.”

“Perhaps not anymore, but this is all I knew.”

“You knew a lot more than here. All those characters you’ve played, all those places you’ve filmed. You’re more worldly than you give yourself credit for.”

“Then how come Mama doesn’t seem so worldly?” I asked aloud.

Viktor’s eyes hardened and returned to the driveway. “She’s worldly, don’t you worry. So worldly she plays at being the exact opposite to get what she wants. Don’t let her try to convince you otherwise inside, alright?”

“I won’t. I’m definitely moving out, don’t worry.”

Viktor nodded and slowed the car in front of the grand entrance to the house. “You head straight upstairs and get your things packed. I’ll give you half an hour at the most.”

I hopped out of the car, feeling sad. While I was glad Viktor was with me, it didn’t seem right that he didn’t work for Mama anymore. I slipped through the front door, making the least possible noise, glad I’d deliberately worn my Nikes again.

Upstairs, I debated knocking on Damon’s door. It was closed, but that didn’t mean anything. It was always shut, however this time I took that as a direct message to keep out.

With a sigh, I went into my room instead. The sadness intensified. As nice as Faith’s house was, I missed my room. I’d redecorated the space a year ago so it was more modern with gray walls and dusky pink curtains. It was feminine but sophisticated.

I’d have another chance when I got my own place, I reminded myself. I forced myself to walk past my king bed instead of sprawling on it like I usually did after a long day, and entered my dressing area.

For the next fifteen minutes I packed two suitcases with everything I could think of that I might want while I was in Europe. I also added a few things I couldn’t bear to leave behind that I would keep at Faith’s until I found my own place.

“I wish you’d told me you were coming.” Mama’s voice was soft.

I hadn’t heard her come in. Usually April Allen made an entrance, and her restraint was enough of a shock to make me turn.

She was immaculate as usual, wearing perfectly tailored turquoise trousers and a cream top, but I thought I detected dark circles beneath her heavy make-up.

I turned back to my suitcase and hoped she didn’t notice the tremor in my hands as I kept packing. “I won’t be here for long. I just need to pack a few things before I leave for Europe tomorrow.”

“So you’re not moving out then?” Her voice held such hope that I looked up again.

The hope was reflected in her eyes and I felt a sharp pain in my chest and concentrated on my clothes again.

“Yes. When I get back from filming.”

“Is that really necessary, darling? You know I don’t like being all alone in this house.”

Here came the dramatics, the guilt. “You have Damon,” I reminded her.

I heard her sniff. “It’s not the same.”

“Perhaps you should have thought about that before you tried to pimp your daughter to the media.” I hadn’t wanted to talk about it, but the words came out in a rush.

Mama swept over to me. “Sweetheart, you know that’s not how it was! I was only ever thinking of you.”

I inhaled a deep breath. “It’s probably better we don’t talk about it.”

“Of course! Let’s just forget it ever happened, shall we? It was so silly of me to get carried away like that, but I guess I got caught up in the excitement of your birthday party.”

My determination not to discuss it evaporated. “That’s your excuse?”

Mama put a hand to her chest. “There’s absolutely no excuse, I know that. I got everything wrong. I see that now. I thought Johnnie was the one you liked, not Gabe.”

“It still doesn’t change the fact you asked him to have sex with me!” The humiliation reared its head again and my cheeks felt hot, or perhaps that was because of the rage I was doing my best to swallow down.

“Sweetheart, I may have implied it, but only because I thought it would be wonderful if your first time was with someone you adored so much.”

“My sex life is none of your business, you got that?”

Mama pressed her lips together and, for once, didn’t say anything.

“And it still doesn’t change the fact you wanted it to happen because of the publicity. You make me sick.”

Mama swallowed and her eyes pooled with tears. I was too angry to feel sorry for her and slammed the suitcase nearest to me shut.

“I know. I think I have a problem,” she said quietly.

“You’re only just realizing it now?” I slammed the other suitcase closed.

Mama sniffed. “Can you ever forgive me?”

I didn’t reply and shoved a scarf into the front pocket of the suitcase.

“Chloe?”

I put my hands on my hips and stared at the ceiling, because that was easier than meeting Mama’s eyes. This was her skill. Her ability to be nice to get what she wanted. Johnnie might be an idiot, but Mama had probably charmed him senseless.

With a sense of dread, I realized that’s where I’d most likely learned my sweetness. I just hoped mine was more genuine than hers. All I knew was I was going to choose to live my life truthfully.

“Honestly?” I told her. “I don’t know right now. I need some time.”

She rested a hand on my arm. “Of course, darling, of course. Take all the time you need. Your room is here waiting for you when you’re ready. I won’t change a thing.”

I sighed and stepped out of her reach, then looked at the contents of my suitcase. I had enough to keep me going. All of the important things, anyway. I closed the bag and zipped it up.

I set it on the ground at my feet and met her eyes. “That’s the thing, Mama, sometime things need to change. You can do whatever you like with my room, because I won’t be coming back.”

*

“REMIND ME WHY I WANTED to be an actress again?” I asked Faith several days later.

“Fucked if I know,” Faith retorted, as miserable as I was.

I would have smiled if I weren’t frozen. Wasn’t Paris supposed to be romantic? Not when you were filming action scenes in a movie.

Faith and I had just spent the last couple of hours diving into a Peugeot again and again. It was part of a scene we were shooting where we had to make a dramatic escape from our pursuers, but apparently Faith and I weren’t diving exactly the right way.

It also turned out Paris was known for its sudden rain showers. One moment we’d been dry and the next we were soaked through. The crew hadn’t even had time to rush over to us with umbrellas.

And the best thing? In Malcolm’s expert opinion, Faith and I playing the scene cold and shivering would make it appear more authentic.

“I can’t feel my toes,” I complained.

“You have toes?”

“Barely.”

“I’m seriously rethinking my desire to do more action movies,” I told her.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. The end product always looks amazing though.”

I sighed and kicked at a cobblestone while the team prepared for us to shoot the scene again. “I guess this location is pretty cool.”

Faith stamped her feet, probably still wondering where her toes went. “I’ve got to admit, this street is Parisian gorgeous. It would be better if I was strolling along it after a three-course dinner though.”

She had a point. It was after ten at night and dinner had been and gone. I was so jet-lagged that I hadn’t felt like eating earlier and now, of course, my stomach was gurgling. I ignored it and attempted to appreciate the view. The architecture of this city was to die for. Quaint apartments several levels high bordered the street. Some of the windows had shutters painted blue and small planter boxes and I wished like hell it wasn’t dark. It would be so pretty here in the daytime.

Further down the street, onlookers strained to get a view of us. We had permission to use the street for part of the car chase scene and it was blocked off at either end. It was very unlikely my stalker had followed me across continents, but I was glad for the distance from the crowds.

“Alright, Faith, Chloe, we’re about to go again. Spots please.”

I shuffled into position, trying not to glare at Malcolm looking comfortable in his knee-length raincoat. Not that it was raining anymore, but at least he was warm. I was only wearing a T-shirt and jeans, and while it was spring, the nights were still cool even when you weren’t wet.

“Let’s dive into that car like our lives really do depend on it this time,” Faith said, her voice low in my ear. “If we don’t get it right soon I think I’ll end up sick or Malcolm will have to endure my wrath.”

I giggled. “I’d like to see that.”