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“Mickie?” he called again as the phone stopped buzzing.
No answer. Where was she? Upstairs in her room? Out back? In the bathroom?
This time when the phone started buzzing again, curiosity and possibly jealously won out. “Hello?” he answered without an ounce of welcome in his tone.
“Who the hell is this? Where the fuck is Mickie?” The panicked voice had him yanking the phone from his ear and frowning at it. When he returned it, the voice continued shouting questions without waiting for answers. “Is this Keith?”
Well, he might not have any idea who Ralph was, but Ralph knew him.
“Hello? Answer me!”
He cleared his throat. “Yes. It’s Keith.”
Air rushed from Ralph’s lungs. “Oh, thank God.” Then as though speaking to himself, he muttered, “Thank God she’s not alone.” Louder, he said, “How is she? I’m guessing by now she’s seen the photo. She must be freaking out. I’ve spoken with her attorney to see if there is anything we can do to get the picture off social media, but it’s already trending.” Without taking a breath, he rushed on. “Since it isn’t her, we might be out of luck. I’m sure she’s totally freaking out. I’m so glad you’re with her. This is such a bunch of bullshit. All she wants is to be left alone and not be on the media’s radar. It’s gonna take time, though. Remind her of that. But I’ve been thinking this could be a good thing. Throw people off her trail. Or maybe it’s time for her to hire someone to lead the media astray, you know?”
Keith’s head spun from the rapid-fire verbal onslaught that poured from the man’s mouth. The man calling his woman. The one he was still in the dark about beyond a name. Ralph.
“Uh, know what?” Stupid, but the only words he could come up with when he didn’t know where to begin dissecting Ralph’s one-sided conversation.
“Oh, shit,” Ralph breathed. “You still don’t know.”
Now his hackles began to rise. Enough with the games. “Don’t know what?” he asked with force.
“Shit, shit, shit. I thought she’d have told you by now. Especially with the picture of her on the news.” He was back to talking to himself.
Picture of her? What the hell did that even mean? The only picture he could think of was the one of Scarlett, the skanky actress he’d never understood the appeal of. She’d disappeared off the face of the planet about seven months ago. Some, like himself, figured she was living large in some exotic location, laughing at everyone who gave a shit about her. Some conspiracy theorist claimed she’d died. Others assumed she’d tried to better herself by going to rehab and…
His blood ran cold.
Rehab.
“Keith? Are you still there?” Ralph asked through the phone, but he ignored it because, at the same moment, Mickie shuffled into the kitchen, wiping a hand across the back of her mouth. In one hand, she carried a bottle of mouthwash.
“Keith? Hello?” Ralph’s voice rang out like a shot in the quiet room.
She froze when she caught sight of him.
Without thinking, he lowered the phone to the counter. Ralph could still be heard hollering questions and demanding answers.
Keith and Mickie ignored the shouts echoing into the kitchen. They stared at each other across a distance of ten feet. Mickie’s eyes were red, puffy, and full of despair. Her skin had taken on a sickly green hue, and her shoulders drooped in a defeated posture he’d never seen from her before. The bottle of blue liquid dangling from her fingers had his heart sinking.
Christ, was she so desperate for a drink she’d chugged mouthwash.
“S-sorry,” she croaked. “I must be getting sick. I threw up.” She didn’t meet his gaze.
Maybe this was all a misunderstanding. Perhaps Ronnie had been right, and she’d eaten something that didn’t agree with her. Maybe whoever the fuck Ralph was, he was dead wrong.
But no, his gut told him the woman standing before him, the woman he’d kissed, held, pleasured, fucked, that woman was none other than Scarlett. One of the most famous and richest actresses in the world. A woman who represented everything he hated.
She’d moved to his town and played him and his family for a band of fools.
He saw it then, in her ravaged eyes.
The truth.
She was Scarlett.
Christ, just thinking it felt like a horse kick to the stomach.
Physically, the changes were remarkable. Before she’d gone dark, Scarlett’s face was everywhere: magazines, television, movies, commercials, social medial. You name it, her twig skinny body was there. She’d had long, bleached hair, wore pounds of makeup, Caribbean blue eyes, scandalous outfits, and a raging drug habit. She’d loved the spotlight. Lived for it. And the woman had the ethical code of an unrepentant mob boss.
He couldn’t reconcile the classy woman in front of him with the attention-hungry actress who attracted male interest every time she blinked and loved nothing more than to see her name in lights and hear the cheers of her adoring fans.
