Page 3 of Promise Not to Fall for the Rich & Famous

A rap of knocks sounded from the half-open door. “You made it, my friend!” Christian bellowed before bursting into the room. His shadow stretched across the sunlit floors, a white-on-white combination of wooden slats and twill rugs.

“You know it.” Gage met him for a bro hug—one arm at his back, the other patting his shoulder. “Nice place,” he said, circling to take in the area once more.

“I thought you’d like it.” Christian’s Latin accent was in full form. “I’m surprised the one and only Mark Craven didn’t insist his son stay in one of the mansions at the west side of the beach.”

“He offered,” Gage said. “I refused. It’s just me. No need to draw attention to myself.”

Christian grinned. “That’swhere you and I are different.”

Yes, they were. While Gage’s longtime friend soaked up the spotlight from his childhood, Gage had done his best to live a normal life. As normal as he could with a famous father. Of course,normalwould soon be harder to accomplish now that Gage had accepted the upcoming movie role.

“Did you check out the master suite yet?”

“Not yet,” Gage said, still admiring the generous amount of light spilling into the room. “Dang, they did a good job with this place. I love Velstein’s work. He’s a genius.”

Christian was already halfway across the room. “That’s what I hear.”

Gage hitched his bag over his shoulder once more. “Hey, aren’t you supposed to get this for me?”

“Watch it,” Christian warned. “If you wantedthatkind of pampering you should’ve taken one of the mansions with room service and all that.” He spun to face Gage as he joined him in the master suite. “And if you wantedmyservices, you should’ve signed up for dance instruction, not surf.”

Gage grinned, already distracted by the cozy feel of the room. It was a shift from the rest of the home. Must be the overhang outside the balcony giving the illusion of privacy despite the floor-to-ceiling windows casing the east wall. “Genius,” he muttered.

“Someone has an architect crush,” Christian accused.

Gage shot him a look. “You’re just jealous that I’m not taking your dance course.” He flung his bag onto the lounge chair in the corner and sprinted toward the puffy looking bed. He dove intoit, face down, arms splayed, and smiled when the landing was softer than he imagined. “And why would I?” he said against a pale blue pillow. “I already won you in a dance-off.” He shrugged onto his back in time to hear Christian groan.

“Yeah, when we were six years old, punk,” Christian said.“ And that’s just because the judges wanted to kiss up to your famous father.” He puffed his chest. “Let’s not forget who took the title at every other competition there was.”

Gage grinned, loving the way his old friend always rose to the occasion. “How could I? You’re ‘America’s Favorite Latin Lover.’Besides, the cable networks re-run those talent shows nonstop.”

Christian flashed that child-star grin, complete with dimple and all. “That’s what draws folks to the Royal Palm, my friend. The ladies want some private dance instructions by the one and only Christian Lopez.”

“Yeah,” Gage said. “Forget the beach. You’re definitely the main attraction.”

Christian nodded. “You got that right. Now let’s go introduce you toyourinstructor, Hollywood.”

“Sounds good to me,” Gage said. His phone let out a buzz as the words left his lips. A quick tug from his pocket and a glance at the screen showed a text had come in from his dad.

How’s my favorite son? Can’t tell you how proud I am that you’re doing what it takes to get into this role. That’s what makes a star.

“That from your old man?” his friend asked while glancing at the screen.

“Yep.”

Christian swung open the door and stepped onto the sunlit porch. “That’s promising. Things better between you two?”

“He just called me his favorite son, if that tells you anything.”

“You’re kidding,” Christian said with a clap. “It’s about time. Move over, Beau Craven. Baby brother is coming on strong.”

Sure, his pro football playing brother had been the obvious favorite all these years, but at what cost? “It’s just crazy, because until I agreed to do the film, I was hisforgottenson.” Gage might make light of it in conversation, but he resented how true the statement was. He was putting his life on hold, all to gain the approval he’d been seeking most of his life.

He followed Christian out of the beach house with reluctant steps. Steps that seemed to take him closer to his father’s dream and further from his own. It was never Gage’s desire to star in a Hollywood film, but here he was, ready to pay the price for his father’s affection.

“It really makes me appreciate my mother, rest her soul,” Christian said as they walked. “You know she lived for all the dance competitions and talent shows, but she made a point to tell me that I could stop at any time. She’d love me just the same, and she’d support me at whatever I chose to do.”

Gage thought back on the many times Christian had come to stay with him while attending one competition after the next. The woman had made a whole lot of sacrifices to keep him in the demanding dance circuit. “Your mother was an amazing woman, Christian,” Gage said.