much…more than anyone could ever hope to capture in a book.”
“Hell of a muse that one is, I imagine. Try and steal her away, will you? I’m going to need all the inspiration I can get for this monster.”
***
One day, I’d ask Joseph why he picked me, whether I took the role or not. I’m sure it would be an interesting conversation. As for my mental state after the brief, but possibly life changing lunch, I remained stunned.
Lazarus had parked ages ago, leaving me free to enter the back lot any I time I wanted, but I hadn’t moved. I stared at my phone resting in the palm of my hand. I wanted to tell someone. I’d just met Joseph Hoffman! He wanted to make a movie with me!
Joseph had made it clear the secret wasn’t safe with anyone in the industry. He’d said it with such pointed eye contact, I had little doubt that ‘anyone‘ firmly included my family. I would’ve liked to tell them, eager for their unpredictable reactions, but they weren’t the ones I wanted to share my news with the most.
Ironically, it was the one person I wanted to tell, that I could. Adley was so blissfully unaware of anything to do with our world, that I’d once seen her give Steven Spielberg an ugly look when he accidentally cut in front of her in the crafts’ line. She was the one person free of Joseph’s restraints, and yet, she was the one person I didn’t know how to tell.
Things had been weird ever since Cam returned. I’d sought her out a few times, but there was always an excuse as to why we couldn’t spend time together. She never told me to get lost either though, so I counted that as a good sign.
I missed her.
I hated that I did – that I’d grown disgustingly reliant on her, but there was no use denying it.
The days that had stretched on endlessly at the beginning of the summer had dwindled down, until just a few days of filming remained. The future hadn’t ever been something we discussed. It had seemed so distant, so insubstantial. I knew that her flight home wasn’t scheduled until the beginning of September, and we’d talked about my lack of a follow-up project a few times.
It seemed like, for the first time in my life, the time before me was an open canvas. My future was my own. In the back of my mind, maybe some part of me had hoped that the more blank I made my life, the more Adley would try to fill it.
And just like that, my spirits sank, pulling me slack and boneless, until I slumped in the seat.
It was pathetic. I was pathetic.
She’d turned me into a love-sick puppy. I’d been an uncertain mess from the moment Cam had waltzed back into the picture. All it had taken was one look at her face for me to realize that he’d never been gone, not really. Cam owned a piece of her. How could I compete with that?
They’d made me into a hypocrite. My eyes followed them any chance I got, sharper than any paparazzi’s camera lens. It didn’t matter how much I watched them, though. I had no way to decipher their sly looks or tentative touches. Jealousy tinted everything I saw into something meaningful.
I was beyond pathetic, and I was done with thinking about it. All the excitement, jealousy, and uncertainty, was left in the limo.
I had work to do.
Walking past the security guard, he barely took note of my nod, distracted by the sandy-haired bloke arguing with him.
“Look, right here, this is my official California driver’s license. See, Thomas Adair. I’m not some reporter. I just want to see my sister.”
I couldn’t escape her! I did everything I could to block them out besides clapping my hands over my ears and humming, but the slender man’s words slipped through. His claim of being Thomas and not Cade Adair, who was Adley’s ink and paper brother, gave validity to his statement.
Against my better judgment, my feet slowed down.
I didn’t know a lot about her family. Obviously, sharing wasn’t her favorite activity. What I did know was that she’d left them when she found out she was pregnant. I couldn’t imagine she’d bail on them without probable cause. There had to be a reason.
They’d never sought her out before, to my knowledge. Why had Thomas suddenly reappeared after so much time?
I didn’t stop to intervene. I