I’d never really inspected my relationship with food closely, because I knew it was fucked up—and because it was part of the circus that was my life. Something always in my control. Now, with all the trappings of fame gone, it seemed utterly ridiculous that a slice of pie could cause so much panic. Be so confronting. Outside of my control.
I glanced up, awkwardly. I didn’t want to offend these people, these warm, funny, and genuine people. That feeling itself was foreign. Itchy under my skin. I’d never had to worry about such things. I hated it. I grasped the Anastasia Edwards I’d been for decades, who was somehow slipping away after a couple of hours on a ranch in Montana. “I’m fine, thank you.”
Harriet blinked, once. Then looked to Duke, then back to me. I didn’t dare look to Duke. I’d been studiously avoiding his gaze and any interactions with him since we sat down at the dinner table.
“You on a diet or something?” Harriet asked.
Or something. Does ten years of being constantly hungry but never able to eat what I enjoyed because the media scrutinized every pound I gained and directors didn’t like me “chubby” count as a diet?
I was pretty sure that counted as an eating disorder everywhere but Hollywood.
“No, just not a dessert person.” The lie was easier and a lot less shameful. I was meant to be a strong, modern woman—I played enough of them. I was not meant to conform to Hollywood’s standard of beauty. Publicly, of course, I didn’t. In every interview when asked, I talked about my naturally fast metabolism, and lied about eating whatever I wanted just so I didn’t seem pathetic.
It wasn’t a morally acceptable thing to do, since I knew thousands of young girls read or watched those interviews and devoured those lies. Then they’d starve themselves of everything else. I was perpetuating something I hated about the world and was too fucking weak to do anything about it.
“Trust me, you’ll be a dessert person once you get some of that,” Andrew interjected, his plate already half finished. He hadn’t caught on to what the two other women in the room were understanding.
I had a feeling that Duke understood it too. He’d been in the industry long enough. He’d been around me, watched me pick at the salads—dressing on the side—I’d ordered on the way here. There was a very slight narrowing of his brows when he’d glanced at me, but no comment.
I felt uncomfortable with all the attention on me.
Duke’s older brother, Tanner, was seated across from me—tall, leaner than Duke, more wrinkled, definitely more cowboy than macho man but no less handsome. Well mannered. I sensed tension between him and Duke.
Anna was eating her pie with slightly less gusto than her husband and looking at me with a touch of sympathy to her gaze.
Duke was looking at me because Duke had been looking at me for most of this evening. Nothing like in the conference room of the Greenstone Security that night that seemed like a hundred years ago.
He was far too good an actor for that hatred to seep in, not since he set foot at the ranch. He played the part of macho man in love very fucking well. Too fucking well.
What happened earlier hadn’t helped.
I’d had two margaritas with Harriet, which meant I was slightly drunk as I’d barely eaten today…and because the woman had a strong pour. That meant I forgot that Duke was just acting and I let myself think it was real. Liquor loosened things up inside me in a dangerous way. My tongue in particular. So, when Harriet finally asked how we met, instead of fabricating some story, I told the truth. I did it smiling like an idiot at Duke. Not the movie star smile either. This strange, new, genuine smile that felt itchy on my face.
“Oh, so I needed security for an event and obviously we hired Greenstone because they’re the best,” I said. “I was getting my makeup done and ready for the event when they brought Duke in to introduce me. He didn’t see me at first because he was talking to my publicist. Andre was likely spouting all sorts of rules and NDAs that he always does.” I rolled my eyes, thinking of the man who went above and beyond to protect my privacy and his paycheck. I missed him already. This was the longest we’d gone without talking in the ten years we’d been together.
“There were a lot of people in that room. Whatever articles tell you, even articles quoting me,” I paused, thinking of all the lies that rolled so easily off my tongue. “Especially articles quoting me,” I corrected. “Don’t believe a freaking word when I say that I’m low maintenance and do my makeup for events. That’s just bullshit.”
I looked around the room, remembered I was in Montana in front of a family of ranchers likely raised here under God. They most likely didn’t like coarse women who swore like sailors. “Pardon my French,” I added quickly. Andrew’s eyes crinkled with amusement, Harriet grinned, and I carried on.
“So yeah, it takes a village to actually make me look like I do at those events. What I’m trying to say is there were a lot of people in that room, but I only really saw Duke. I know that sounds utterly cliché, and if I were hearing this story I’d think I was full of bullshit.” I paused. “Fuck, pardon my French again. Anyway,” I waved my hand in Duke’s direction. “You made him, you know he’s a handsome macho man in a way that no other men in Hollywood or real life are actually macho men.” I glanced at Tanner. “Well, apparently they’re like this in this family or just in Montana.”
He grinned. “Just this family, darlin’.”
I nodded. “Yes, well it makes sense, seeing the lineage. You’re from a bloodline of stone-cold hotties. Anyway. It was something more than being attractive, because I’d been around many attractive men in my career and I wasn’t impressed easily. Duke impressed me because...” I trailed off, lingering in my memory far too long, thinking of the way his gaze had hit me. “He seemed like the most real person I’d met maybe ever.”
I paused again to take another sip of my margarita—because I was becoming too sober and this was getting too real—and I had to finish. The air beside me was weird, considering Duke was occupying that air and he’d gone still. I chose to ignore that. “Of course, this scared the sh—life out of me. I decided it was far too scary to be real so I proceeded to act like I do to anyone else.” I paused again. “Cold. Professional. A little superior.” I glanced around the room. “It’s necessary in my business. I’ve been burned badly a couple of times when I let myself trust people and I’ve become jaded. I learned to protect myself by crafting a reputation of being...difficult.”
Harriet laughed. “We women who are worth it are always difficult, my dear. Makes us more interesting.”
I loved Harriet and decided I’d adopt her. Or kidnap her.
I smiled at her and used her encouragement to continue. “So I did to Duke what I do to everyone. I acted like Anastasia Edwards...”
I didn’t have an end to this story. Because it did not end happy like a mythical love story. Duke had not had the same reaction to me. The world hadn’t stopped spinning when he met my eyes. It hadn’t been love at first sight. No fireworks. No love. Nothing beyond my cold treatment and his professional distaste.
Love at first sight was not the reason I was sitting here. Murder was.