Cameron sat back in his chair, a blank look on his face. “You’re thinking about Fyfe?”
I’d told Cameron I was babysitting Millie. With childcare taking up so much of my time, I had to. Of course I’d explained who Fyfe was (though I didn’t tell Cameron I’d once been in love with my brother’s best friend) and I thought he understood. In fact, Cameron seemed to think what I was doing was incredibly sweet.
Or he did think that a few days ago.
“I was thinking about Millie,” I corrected him. Dishonestly.
Cameron studied me thoughtfully. “Are you sure there’s nothing between you and Fyfe? Romantically, I mean?”
Was I giving off that vibe? How? I couldn’t possibly be. I was over him! “Of course not,” I answered truthfully. “I’m just his best friend’s wee sister.”
He frowned. “That’s what you are to him. What is he to you?”
Shrewd. The doctor was way too shrewd. It would be sexy if he wasn’t currently interrogating me. “A friend.” I crossedmy arms, leaning back from the table. “And I don’t particularly enjoy being grilled about my relationships with other people.”
“I wasn’t grilling you. I asked a question.”
“Aye, one motivated by jealousy.”
Cameron’s fist tightened around a fork and he glanced away. “Sorry.”
Wariness shot through me. “I don’t do jealousy, Cameron. It’s kind of a big turnoff for me.”
After a few seconds, he released the fork and looked at me calmly. “Understood. It won’t happen again. You’re just … so beautiful. I want you to myself.”
Internally, I bristled. One: I belonged only to myself. Two: I wanted to be wanted for more than a face and body I hadn’t earned. It was a gift of genetics. As someone who was still on a path to liking herself, I needed the person I was dating to want me formeand not my looks. I understood physical attraction was a part of human connection, but I needed more than just that.
“Let’s forget I asked.” He gave me a congenial smile and stood. “More wine?”
“I’m good.”
A few minutes later, Cameron led me over to his sofa. He’d rented a spacious bungalow not far from my aunt Arro and uncle Mac’s house. It was already furnished when he rented it, and Cameron complained it lacked his personality, but it was stylish and comfortable.
The uneasiness between us settled as we chatted about Cameron getting a grip on small-town life.
“And you?” he asked. “How is retirement treating you?”
The truth was my agent, Danny, had been in touch every other day pestering me about my future. He’d warned me my performance in the last season ofYoung Adulthad rumors whirring that I would be nominated for a BAFTA again nextJanuary. That I owed it to the show to do all the interview requests coming in. He’d been talking to my PR team who he said were inundated with queries. Of course they were. Tell people you no longer wanted something millions of folks would kill to have, and suddenly you were cool as fuck as well as an ungrateful brat and everyone wanted to talk to you about it. It took a minute, but after monologuing exactly how I was feeling, I think I finally got through to Danny.
“He’s going to back off?” Cameron asked.
“Yes. I told him I wasn’t going to change my mind about quitting acting. That the last few weeks I’ve been happier than ever. That he should focus his energy on other clients. He said he was sorry to hear it, that he truly believed I was one of his most talented clients, which was lovely, but that he’d back off. And I believe him.”
At least that was one thing I didn’t have to worry about anymore. Especially with so-called friends from the industry reaching out to ask if I was okay in a tone that most people usually reserved for the terminally ill. Some of them had started sending me articles that trashed me under the pretense of being concerned. I blocked them. Other friends were kinder, if not a little patronizing and disbelieving.
I turned off my Google Alerts and lived in absolute ignorant bliss.
The only downside was Jasper. One of the articles a “friend” sent was an interview he did where he pretty much insinuated that I was a diva who had ruined his chance to remain on a show he loved. Fans adored Jasper. I had no doubt my name was being dragged through the social media mud.
I had to admit, it made me cry.
Not because I was being vilified. I think I’d made peace with my inability to control other people’s gossiping ridiculousness.
No, I cried for a friendship lost. I cried because Jasper had betrayed me and because in his twisted, selfish mind, he did it because he thought me putting my mental health before the show was a betrayal of him.
After that, I deleted his contact from my phone.
Finally, my management team, whom I’d kept on to handle tying up my career, had reached out to let me know I’d received some disturbing death threats. I was sad to say it wasn’t the first time. When it did happen the first time, I freaked way the fuck out and had security accompany me everywhere. Since then, we just forwarded all that stuff to the police.
