He doesn’t move. Only stares.
Luci jerks harder, finally dragging him away. She talks to him in a low mumble that sounds scolding. But she’s all smiles again when she tosses a glance over her shoulder. “Good night, Brooke.”
“Good night.” As I watch them walk away, I imagine the doors dividing my apartment from the rest of the house. I imagine Ric standing on the other side.
Testing the lock.
As if he heard my thoughts, he pulls free of Luci’s grip. Facing me, he walks slowly backward, giving me that slimy smirk again. “Sleep well,joliefille.”
A cringe skitters over my shoulders. Because those words I understand.
Pretty girl.
He gives me a wink, and my stomach twists.
Easing back inside, I shut the door. And turn the deadbolt with a solidthunk.
3
The jarring sound of my cell phone jolts me from sleep.
Dim, barely light outside. A ceiling looming high above me.
Where am I?
My vision clears, and the room sharpens. Lavish bed, large room, armoire by the wall. The pieces coalesce into a memory.
I’m in Paris. Maison Marteau.
Still groggy, I roll over in the fresh-smelling sheets. I reach out, slapping my hand on the night table until I find it. I don’t bother to check the screen. “Hello?”
“Brooke, morning.” Lin sounds too alert and awake for . . . what time is it, anyway?
I hold the phone away from my ear to check. Eight in the morning, which means in LA it’s . . . I have no idea.
I sit up and rub my eyes. My brain is buried in sand and I’m sifting for clarity.
“I wanted to call,” Lin says. “Make sure you got there, got inside all right.”
“I did.”
“And,” she pauses, “no trouble?”
I snap awake. Trouble could mean anything—planes, trains, emotional baggage. But I know what she’s really asking. “Nope.” I release a breath. “No one recognized me.”
“Good. Good.” A low hiss comes from her end, and I wonder if she’s vaping again. “So, you’re settled into the apartment, got all you need.”
“Yep.”
“How are you doing?”
“You know, staying positive.” I try to sound lighthearted, try to convince her of an optimism I don’t feel.
“Listen, I know the producers canceling the movie is a kick in the gut. I get it. But with filming on hold, you have time to devote to other things.”
“I hope it’s not too much time.” I don’t want to languish until I’m forgotten, waste energy and momentum until I’m written off. Like so many once-promising actors that studios now overlook.
I dread the idea of people saying,Whatever happened to her?
