Strolling down Rodeo, I had to admit that the scorching sun was nice when you didn’t have it all year round. It beat down on my back as I looked in the window of Jimmy Choo. My hard-earned cash had mostly been spent on airplane tickets these past few months, but I was in a good mood, and the übercool rose gold sunglasses in the window called to me.
Screw it.
I strode in and sighed at the heavenly AC that cooled my skin. A retail assistant was at my side in seconds and I was out the door, popping on my new sunglasses within five minutes. Mamma would be so proud I was spending money on designer stuff. Well, she would be if she wasn’t so pissed at me right now.
She, Dad, and Allegra were currently at the beach house in Scotland while I was in LA for the first time in over two years.
“Oh, of course! You fly to California as soon as your entirefamigliafly to Scozia for you!”
It was true. I had followed North to LA for a week while my family was in Scotland. However, I’d spent two weeks with them, and I’d spend more time with them when I got back. But North had wrapped filming onBirdwatcher, and although we’d had some alone time, my family was kind of smitten with him. He loved it. And I loved that my mother cooed over him like a proper mom rather than flirting with him, that my dad showed him respect and admiration, and that Allegra teased and laughed with him like a little sister.
I loved giving North that.
But I also wanted him to myself for a week.
He was taking meetings in LA—two for movies and one for a TV show. To my surprise, North had wanted my opinion on the scripts his agent sent him, and these were the three we whittled it down to.
While he took a meeting this afternoon, I’d promised him I’d be fine doing a little shopping and not much else. I won’t lie—after running Ardnoch almost twenty-four seven for the last two years, I didn’t know what to do with downtime. I was restless.
I wandered through Beverly Hills, crossing Wilshire to go to a gelato place Allegra had recommended. While waiting in line, I felt a burning on my cheek and turned to see a tourist snapping a photo of me before noting I’d seen her do it. She blushed and hurried quickly away.
That was new.
When I’d lived in LA, no one recognized me. I wasn’t an actor, and I’d only ever been photographed attending my father’s premieres. People in the industry knew who I was, but I wasn’t a household name. But being called “the one” by North Hunter had made me recognizable.
After our first night out at a restaurant here, photos of us showed up online. I guess the public loved a love story, but they also loved the drama of watching one fall apart, and I had a horrible feeling we’d never stop being interesting to the tabloids until we did. Fall apart, that is.
Shaking off the dread that accompanied the thought, I reminded myself I lived in a place designed for privacy, and eventually, everyone would realize North and I would not fall apart. They’d grow bored. Once we’d been married a few years and started having kids, they’d move on.
I blinked. Startled by the thoughts that just so easily entered my mind.
That’s how secure in our love and relationship I was.
I truly believed North was my future.
My phone beeped and I pulled it out of my purse. A text from North:
Meeting’s over. It’s hot as fuck. Let’s go christen the pool.
I texted him I was on my way.
He replied,
You know by christen, I mean fuck, right?
Laughing, I told him I’d somehow managed to crack that code. Feeling high on my happiness, I grabbed my gelato and headed back to my rental car. We were staying at my parents’place in Malibu while we were here, and I’d dropped North off in Century City for his meeting. Now it was time to pick him up for more uninterrupted sex. Seriously, my family had hogged so much of his time while we were in Ardnoch that I’d had to sneak into his suite during office hours for some sexy time. Very professional of me.
I’d parked in a garage near Rodeo Drive, my flip-flops echoing off the concrete walls as I walked. After placing my new purchases in the back of the car, I changed into sneakers because driving with flip-flops was asking for trouble.
Barely a second after I shut the driver’s-side door, the passenger side opened, and I sucked in a breath of frightened surprise as an intruder got into the car and slammed the door.
Then she turned to me.
Dislike warred with wariness, the nape of my neck tingling in warning as I came face-to-face with Caitlyn Branch for the first time in over two years.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I yelled. Had she been following me?
Caitlyn smirked, and I noted her appearance with increasing unease. She’d dyed her red hair to a shade of dark brown that matched mine. A golden fake tan covered every inch of her, and her eyes were now green instead of brown. Contacts. “It’s good to see you too, Ari.”
