TEN
“Your Highness. Miss Wood…”
The soft call pulled me out of sleep. Immediately, my muscles began to complain from the strange positions they had been in all night, especially my neck. It took me a minute to get my bearings, but slowly I remembered where I was, and memories from the night before were quick to flood back; images of laughing, talking, and learning about Zane flickered behind my eyelids.
Next to me, he moaned a little, having a bit of a harder time waking up. He yawned and stretched his strong arms out in front of him as his eyes blinked open. We both looked up at the voice to see Shara, one of his trusted entourage, smiling gently as she stood over us in our reclining theater seats. Her suit today was a cobalt blue, as impeccably tailored and put together as the one she had been wearing the day before.
“Good morning,” she said to us once our eyes were opened enough to look at her properly.
“Good morning, Shara,” replied Zane in a tired voice. “What time is it? Did we sleep here?” He turned to me and his face softened.
“I guess so,” I said with a little laugh, running a hand through my disastrous, sleep-ruined hair. A bit of a flush spread on my cheeks. “We must have stayed up later than we thought; it’s hard to tell the time in here.”
Shara leaned down. “Your Highness, I’m sorry to bother you, but the day is already in full swing. As you previously requested, Miss Wood’s return flight home is scheduled to depart in an hour.”
The news was unpleasant, and Zane and I looked at each other with surprised, sad faces.
“Wow, already?” I asked. “This is the end of my visit? I can’t believe how quickly it flew by.”
“Me either,” Zane agreed sadly. “I didn’t mean for us to stay up the entire night watching movies; I had some other plans for us while you were here.” He glanced at the gold watch on his wrist. “I can’t remember the last time I slept in so late.”
“It has been years, Your Highness,” Shara informed him with a laugh. To me, she said, “His Highness typically has a strict schedule that begins before sunrise.”
Zane turned back to me with expectation on his face. I felt the same anticipation in my chest, but didn’t know what to do about it. We had made a signed contractual agreement about this visit. I would spend twenty-four hours with him, and he was to send me a million dollars; the timer on my twenty-four hours was almost up.
So why didn’t I want to leave and head back home? The job was finished, my pay was secured, and without even having to deal with an awkward refusal of sexual favors. This was exactly the best-case scenario I had been too afraid to hope for. And yet, it wasn't enough. Something about it was terribly unsatisfying, like seeing a fresh-baked chocolate cake and being offered only a spoonful of frosting.
“I guess we had better gather your things and get you ready to go,” said Zane as he moved to get up from his chair. Both of us had stiff, angry muscles from the night in the recliner, and we laughed as we groaned like grumpy old men, trying to stretch them out.
“Shara, tell the driver to be ready and the pilot that we’ll be on time. I’m going to walk Julianne to her room and help her with her luggage. We’ll meet you out front,” said Zane to his assistant.
Shara nodded and turned to leave the room, clutching her ever-present planner in her arms.
Zane offered me his arm as he walked me through the palace hallways back to the luxurious bedroom I had never even gotten the chance to use. My luggage had been placed neatly at the foot of the bed, untouched since it left the trunk of the taxi. I checked all the zippers were still closed, deciding I didn’t have time to change or try to clean myself up before the flight. It didn’t matter, anyway. I had a full bedroom on the jet, and no one to impress on the flight home.
Besides, I didn't feel much like making myself glamorous this morning. There was a heavy gloom over my heart that was all the more upsetting because it was so unexpected. I'd had a genuinely fun night with Zane—a rare event in my life, especially lately. Men were a puzzle I could never solve, and I didn't have time to if I wanted my already-struggling career to stay afloat. They angered me, confounded me, hurt me, always carrying more baggage in than they were willing to shoulder themselves. I was tired of feeling like I had to be a background character in someone else's life movie. It made me like a pawn, a plot device to get from one place to the other.
Zane was the first man in a long time to have shown me actual kindness while expecting nothing in return. He was willing to reward me, and make my life better, just for the chance to spend time with me. He wasn't threatened by my success, and how could he be? He had more power than anyone I would ever know, which left him free to show me support and interest that no other man had.
He actually cared about me, and as I gathered up my luggage to leave, I realized I cared about him, too. Royalty or not, Zane was a good man. He didn't deserve to be lonely. I imagined him wandering the palace halls, sad but having no one to talk to about it, and it broke my heart.
I came out of the bedroom with my luggage and a flat smile. I found it hard to look in Zane’s eyes at that moment; it felt too uncomfortable—painful, almost.
“Well,” he said, shoving his hands awkwardly in his pockets. “Thank you again for coming, Julianne. I can’t tell you what your visit meant to me. I’m very happy you accepted. Did you have a pleasant time?”
I nodded. “I did, thank you. It was the best time I’ve had in a long while.” I sighed. “Life’s kind of been on a downslope since my ex cheated on me. This trip reminded me that not everyone in the world is out to steal everything for himself. I really needed to remember that… thank you, Zane.”
The Sheikh flushed a little in the cheeks, and gave me a shy, unexpected smile. “I’m glad I could make you happy, even if it was just for a day. I’ll make sure Shara sends your payment safely to you as soon as you’re in the air.”
Heavy silence filled the air between us. I could hear in the distance the sound of the security guards chattering to each other, making the last preparations for my journey to the airport. Some deep instinct welled up in my heart. It wanted me to take another risk.
“You know,” I said before I lost my nerve. “I was thinking… Are you incredibly busy today? I mean, you’re probably busy every day, but—”
“No, not particularly,” interrupted Zane, with hope in his voice.
I shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if I grabbed a later flight back to LA. I don’t have anyone waiting for me when I get home, and no jobs are going to pop up anytime soon. What’s the harm in leaving a little bit later?”
A dazzling grin spread over Zane’s face. “Really? Are you sure? I would love to have you here for the afternoon, so long as you’re sure it won’t upset your plans. I really wanted to show you around the city.”
“I’m sure,” I nodded, smiling. “And that sounds great, I would hate to leave this place before I even got a chance to see it a little.”
“Excellent. I’ll tell the staff.” He pointed back to the bedroom. “I suppose, in that case, we should both get freshened up. I’ll tell Shara to have everything prepared for us.”
“That sounds wonderful!”
“Good. I’ll send for you in two hours. Let my staff know if you need anything at all.” He bent and grasped my hand, kissing it gently. I flushed slightly as he winked at me and strode down the hallway to find Shara, a spring in his step.
ELEVEN
Given the chance to explore the lavish bedroom I was staying in was an extra treat. The bathroom alone was nicer than any I had ever been in, full of gorgeous gilded details and accents in vivid coral. A huge window opened up to a courtyard full of lush plants and the calls of peacocks that strutted fearlessly around the palace grounds. I stood under the hot water in the shower and felt the tension I had been carrying wash off my body, down the drain.
Taking another risk felt wonderful. Not only the risk to come here and meet Zane in the firs
t place, but to delay my departure and spend more time with him. Some instinct was stirring in my heart, and the urge to follow it was almost overwhelming. It was the same urge I had felt to move to LA and try to make it as an actress. Whatever one wanted to call it, following this feeling had always gifted me with positive results, even if they came with a lot of hard work first.
What Jack did to me had made me afraid to trust my gut for a time. How could I, when I failed to see the horrible man he was all these years? Rattling my confidence was the least of what he did. It was a frightening prospect to suddenly not trust your own mind or decisions, to know you had let danger so close to you.
I was trying to listen to my gut again, and find trust in my instincts. My first big test had been accepting the proposal Katherine brought from Zane. And the second test had been moments earlier, in the hallway, when I refused to leave before I was ready.
I wanted to spend more time with Zane. Things felt better here; they felt right. Maybe it was strange that I was finding comfort halfway around the world, but I didn't care. Comfort had been in short supply lately, and I was going to get as much of it as I could.
Lightness replaced the dread that had weighed my heart earlier. I hummed to myself as I scrunched up my wavy hair in a towel, letting it air-dry so that the heat of the desert wouldn't hold so hard against my scalp. I was all smiles leaning into the gold-edged mirrors as I did my makeup to bring out the green of my eyes and brightness of my hair and skin. I pulled out a cute yellow sundress from my luggage and matched it with nude-colored gladiator sandals. Coupled with a small clutch purse and my sunhat, I was ready for a tour of Al-Dali.
Zane met me at the front entrance of the palace. He had showered, too, and had shaved, his dark beard meticulously edged and groomed. Whatever product he put in his hair was perfect for it, sculpting a beautiful wave that looked soft and kept its shape. Over his strong frame, he wore a crisp white button-up shirt and loose pants of dark tan. The outfit was dashing, and would help keep him cool in during the hot day. He smiled at me from behind dark sunglasses; I could feel his gaze ghosting over me anyway.
“You look stunning,” said Zane as he kissed my hand. “That color is very becoming on you.”
“You don't look too bad yourself,” I replied with a small curtsey. “You could be in the movies, you know.”
“There's no need to flatter me,” he said, waving a hand dismissively.
“I'm serious. You have the looks for it,” I promised. “The ladies would eat you alive.”
Zane laughed self-consciously and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, I won't pretend I haven't had fantasies of being a great actor. But I think, if anything, I'm better suited to being a director.”
“Oh?” I asked, locking my arm in his elbow as he led us down to the waiting car. “Why is that?”
Zane shrugged. “Maybe it's all the education on ruling I received my whole life. I'm very good at understanding people and getting them to contribute their best talents to a project. Really, that's what ruling is about. The rest is details.”
“That's not a bad point,” I agreed.
“Maybe someday I’ll be able to find some time for that dream.”
I smiled at him. “I really hope you do.”
Zane helped me into the back of the limo before he climbed in behind me. In the comfort of the air-conditioned car, he sent the driver on a winding tour of the city, to introduce me to at least the surface of his culture.
The driver dropped us off at the grand bazaar, a place where shopkeepers and consumers descended every morning to buy and sell goods in one of the oldest and largest marketplaces in the world. Even though the digital age was alive and well, and vendors were using the latest payment technologies on smartphones and credit cards, the marketplace still took place within the same sprawling stone structure it had occupied for the last thousand years.
People recognized Zane and descended on us with smiles and hand-shakes, and though I didn't speak the language, it was clear they were paying him honors and compliments when they spoke to him. Vendors tried over and over to give him free merchandise, free food, free favors, but he refused every time and instead passed the gift onto someone else in the crowd who probably needed it more. When he caught me lingering at one of the scarf merchants, Zane insisted on buying me whatever I wanted, and I left with a bagful of fantastic new fashion accessories that no one else in Hollywood would have.
It was clear that Zane was beloved by the people of Al-Dali. Even though he said his grandfather was a bit of a violent man, his own father was not, and I was sure he would have been very proud of his son. Zane truly loved his people, and didn't show an ounce of elitism or distance in spending time with them.
The crowd was pretty excited to see me, too, and it was a lovely surprise. I still couldn't believe I had so much popularity in a country I knew almost nothing about, but every few feet there came a request for an autograph or photo, or a sweet old merchant offering me something and calling me beautiful. It had been a long time since I’d experienced moments like this in Los Angeles; my last big film premiere was almost a year ago. There was nothing like the rush of an adoring crowd, and it recharged me.
After the bazaar, the limo led us out of the city limits to an archaeological site, an ancient temple, one of the oldest ruins in the country. Under the blazing sun, we listened to one of the professors who worked on the site as he explained the importance of its survival. We wandered under great stone columns, sculptures of fantastic beasts, and murals of kings and cities that had been buried in the desert sand long ago. It was difficult not to be overcome by awe standing in such a place. As Zane had pointed out, my predecessors were the originators of cinema, but I didn’t have centuries of ancestors to worry about disappointing, the way he did. He knew almost as much about the ruins as the professor; Zane clearly respected his roots. It made me feel a bit silly for not even remembering the names of all the US Presidents.
Once we had explored the temple, Zane wanted me to see the modern Al-Dali, too, and decided the best place to do that was its science center and conservatory. Tucked in the middle of the bustling downtown metropolis, it was a sleek modern building that housed a natural history museum, aquarium, astrological observatory, and botanical garden. It ran entirely on green energy, with solar panels and a rooftop garden that visitors could access. Even though it was a weekday, the place was bustling with activity, including several groups of schoolkids on field trips.
The sprawling complex was more high-tech than anything I had seen in LA or New York. As well as being one of the main funders of the non-profit organization behind the center, Zane explained that he had assisted in selecting its board of directors, making sure to hire the best and brightest minds in their fields and paying them what they were worth. He wanted to make a serious investment in Al-Dali's future, and educating its children, he maintained, was the best way of doing that.
Every new thing I learned about Zane only made him more attractive. I knew guys who had charm and talent and who gave to charity, but Zane was literally building the future of his country one step at a time. Hollywood men weren’t even close to that level of selflessness.
As the day went on and hunger finally overcame the excitement of tourism, Zane was all too happy to take me to one of his favorite restaurants in the city. It was a small place that I would have called a mom-and-pop-shop had we been in the US.
The owner, a short, elderly man with a wrinkled face, was delighted to see Zane and spoke to him with some familiarity. Zane didn't hesitate in embracing him like an old friend, and we were directed to a dark booth in the back of the small restaurant, the most private place he could provide. Zane's security took up nearby locales, but the place was mostly empty. The handful of diners that did share the space with us were trying not to stare at the famous dining party in the back. I saw a fair share of smartphones being raised as people tried to get pictures of us, but decided I didn’t really care. I was happy bein
g out with Zane, and there was no reason to hide it.
“I love coming here,” Zane said with a smile as he placed his napkin in his lap. “It's been too long since I've gotten away from the palace for a meal in the city.”
“I'm sure it's difficult considering your chef can make you basically anything you want, and you don't even have to get out of your pajamas,” I joked.
Zane chuckled. “That's true. But as talented as my chefs are, there is no way to duplicate another person's special recipes, and this place has some of the most special flavors in Al-Dali. I keep trying to convince the owner to come work for me so I can have his food all to myself, but he will never accept my offer.”
“Why’s that?”
“He says he likes his life the way it is. He just keeps his little restaurant and spends the evenings with his wife and grandchildren.”
It was a sweet answer. “I can’t say I blame him. That sounds really lovely.”
“Exactly, how can I try to talk a man out of that?” agreed Zane. “So instead I just visit here as often as possible and recommend it to everyone I can. That way, he can keep saving for retirement so he can hire someone else to run this place and be with his family all the time.”
I looked at him and felt my heart warm. “You’re really an amazing guy, you know that?”
Zane shook his head bashfully, his cheeks turning a flushed red. “I’m not. Just a hungry one.”
I let him rest in his humility and gave him a flirty nudge with my shoulder instead. Zane returned it playfully, making us both smile.
I unfolded the menu before me, and realized quickly that I was in a bit of a pickle. With an embarrassed smile, I leaned over to Zane and said, “I think I'm going to need your help.”
He looked over, ready to ask me why, but one glance at the menu did the trick. The entire thing was written in his native tongue, a language I didn't speak or read.
“Yes, I guess that would be a problem,” he laughed.
“I only ever learned high school French,” I told him with a giggle.
Zane put his menu down and leaned closer to me, putting one arm around the back of the booth. “I can help you. Let's start with what you're in the mood to eat. Something heavy, or light? Maybe some soup?”
“Are you kidding? This was a long day out in the sun. I'm starving. Give me something full of meat and spices.”
He laughed and nodded approvingly. With his other hand, he pointed at one of the menu items. “This is what you want. It's called mansaf; basically it is a dish of rice and lamb with flatbread. The spices are quite delicious, and the meat will melt on your tongue.”
Though the meal sounded plenty delicious, I was distracted by how close Zane's body was to mine, and the smell of his cologne. We had spent such a wonderful day together, and as we sat together, something felt shifted and different between us.
I let Zane order the meal he had suggested for me, and the old man brought out a beautiful antique tea service with steaming water and a selection of choices for us to enjoy while we waited for our food. The tea was incredibly soothing after the long, exciting day.
“I'm so glad we were able to extend my stay,” I told Zane with a soft grin. “It feels like a thousand years since I went out and had a good day for no reason, especially with company like yours. I needed this, thank you.”
Zane seem surprised. His full lips curled at one end. “That doesn't sound good. Why haven't you had good days lately?”
I didn't want to burden Zane with my problems, but as I stared into his dark eyes, I couldn't deny the empathy and sincere feeling of concern I found in them. His gaze was like a tractor beam, and he had me in his pull.
I took a deep breath. Few people had heard anything about my life right now; I couldn't believe I was about to share it with the Sheikh of Al-Dali. “Things just aren't that great right now, to be honest.”
He frowned, concerned. “Oh? How so?”
“The industry is very fickle. When I was younger, I couldn't turn down offers fast enough. But lately only scraps have been trickling through my door—TV movies, roles that are beneath my skill and make me look stupid. You know deep down that the industry is misogynist, and you deal with a lot of it even in the good years. But this is the first time I've ever actually had to face the truth of the world I committed my life to.”
I was surprised to hear the words coming out of my mouth, but instantly felt weight lifted off my soul.
Zane listened intently. His eyes were sad. “I'm so sorry to hear that, Julianne. I can't believe you would be so devalued in your industry. There's nothing fair or right about that.”
“No, there isn't,” I agreed with a sigh. “It's really hard to deal with. Plus, add onto that the humiliation of what Jack Lister did to me and how almost everyone in LA has decided to back him up… It's enough to make me feel like I made a huge mistake ever going out to that city and trying to act.”
Gently, he reached for one of my hands and clasped it warmly in both of his. Looking into my eyes, he said, “Don't ever feel regret for following your dreams. Even though the reality turned out to be much more different and complicated than you expected, that has nothing to do with you, Julianne. Your worth remains and so does your talent; it's them who have let you down. I'm sorry this is happening to you.”
Overwhelmed, tears welled up in my eyes even as I smiled back at him. I nodded. “Thank you, Zane. I really needed to hear that.”
“I'm not just trying to ease your pain, I mean it. You are so talented. And you didn't deserve what Jack did to you—no one would.”
Even the mention of his name made my stomach turn. “Jack is monster. I kick myself every day for not seeing the truth of what he was until it was too late. And it's so hard to watch people I thought cared about me—or at least cared about working with me—ignore me while they trot around with him. I've never felt so alone.”
“Cowards,” sighed Zane, shaking his head. “Monsters like him exist everywhere, clambering up the ladder, stepping on person after person to get there. They work very hard to deceive people; you can't blame yourself for falling for it any more than you can blame yourself for losing a race to an Olympic athlete. Jack has a lot of practice at what he does. Of course he's going to win.”
“I hadn't thought about it like that,” I replied.
“I've known men like him. Once I notice them close to me, I swiftly change course. Or if they work for me, I make sure they are assigned somewhere far away from the core administration. They are rare, but the cowards, like the ones who sided with Jack even after he humiliated you, are much more common. It's impossible to avoid them. They will always be around to trail after the perceived winner in order to make themselves look stronger.”
“And in doing so, they helped Jack's victory. It's like a snake eating its own tail.”
“It happens when everybody is fighting tooth and nail for a piece of the pie. When people don't want to work together, but only want to get ahead.”
“If that doesn't describe Hollywood, nothing does,” I chuckled bitterly.
“I will never understand Hollywood's treatment of women,” said Zane sadly. “Or American culture in general, I suppose. You're not even thirty years old and already considered less valuable by your industry—it's nearly opposite to how things work in Al-Dali.”
“Oh?” I asked, curious. “What do you mean?”
“Women in my culture do not have a 'sell-by date'. Elderly women are the most revered group, which means every year of a woman's life, she becomes more powerful and respected. You can see this in our movie industry, too. Roles are written with older actresses in mind, and it's the young actresses who must work to prove themselves among seasoned veterans. Looks alone won't get them very far,” explained Zane.
I shook my head in disbelief. “Seriously? Where can I sign up for your version of the Screen Actors Guild?”
I laughed along with Zane, but in the back of my head, knew I was half-serious about wanting
to explore the industry of Al-Dali. If everything Zane said was true, how could I ignore it? Maybe being introduced to Zane was a bigger stroke of luck than I had originally thought. From the second I landed in Al-Dali I had found a level of comfort I couldn’t explain. Maybe the universe knew I needed to be here, because there was hope for me—just not in LA.
My thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of our food, the fragrant spices filling the air as steam rose from the dishes. The restaurant owner made sure we had everything we needed before departing to give us privacy.
After a few minutes of quiet, I turned to Zane and said, “Hey, I just wanted to say thank you for what you said. It feels good to be able to talk to someone who understands.”
Zane stopped spooning rice onto his plate, and turned a heavy gaze to me. A gentle smile crossed his lips. “I'm happy I could help. I know we don't know each other very well, Julianne, but I hope you'll believe me when I say that I want you to be happy and taken care of.”
His words touched my heart. I couldn't find any words to reply with. Instead, I put my hand over one of his and gave it a squeeze. Zane quickly returned the gesture, his touch sending excited sparks through my nerves.
Dinner was as delicious as Zane promised, and when the owner brought out a complimentary bottle of wine for us to enjoy with our dessert, we didn't say no, although Zane tucked an extra bill of money under the receipt on the table for the owner to find after we had gone. We finished the wine and lingered in the booth until one of Zane's security guards interrupted to tell us it was time to head to the airport, or we would miss the planned takeoff time for my flight.
I had thought the extra time with Zane would make me feel better about leaving, but somehow I only felt worse. Every moment I spent with him only made me want for more.
The heavy tension in the limo as we made our way through the city told me that it wasn't just me who was upset about my visit ending, but neither of us seemed to have the words to say to fix it. We listened quietly to the local radio station and watched the lights of the city go by.
The jet was waiting on the tarmac, Raj and Nareem waving excitedly from the staircase as we got out of the limo. A warm desert wind blew around us, dancing in my hair. The security guards busied themselves with unloading my luggage and giving the plane one last inspection, leaving Zane and I alone for our goodbye.
“I had a marvelous time with you, Julianne,” he said, smiling down at me. “It was more amazing than I even hoped for when I sent the proposal out. I'll never forget it.”
I stood close to him and gazed into his eyes. “I feel the same. This has been exactly what my spirit needed. Thank you so much for sending that offer, and for treating me like a queen while I was here.”
Zane laughed a little and brushed a loose strand of hair from my face. “You are a queen.”
Flushing, I had to look away from him, overwhelmed by my feelings. My heart ached to hold him, but I didn't have any words to help me get there.
In a rush of impulsiveness, propelled by a nameless urge, I leaned up on my tip-toes, wrapped my arm around his neck, and kissed him softly on the lips. It was quick and sweet, but Zane's face was flushed with heat when I pulled away.
“I'll be back to visit as soon as I can,” I promised. “If that's something you would want.”
Zane's grin answered his question before he could. “More than anything.” He took both of my hands in his and kissed them sweetly.
My heart soared, and it took every shred of my willpower not to throw myself in his arms at that moment. Instead, I gave him a bashful smile and a wave and turned for the plane before I could lose my cool.
Once up the stairs, I turned back to look at the Sheikh one last time. Zane stood by the limo in the twilight, waving at me and smiling.
I found a window seat and watched him until his guards directed him back in the limo so they could clear the tarmac for takeoff, the car’s taillights fading into the distance.
TWELVE
It was much more difficult to sleep on the flight home from Al-Dali than it had been on the way over. While my nerves about the Sheikh’s proposal were thankfully gone, a new kind of anxiety had replaced them: the anxiety of realizing I was developing feelings for him. After all my worry that Zane would cross a line with me, suddenly now I was the one crossing a line—even if accidentally. At least he didn’t reject my kiss; I could still feel the warmth of his lips on mine if I closed my eyes. That was one minor victory in this very convoluted problem I had gotten myself into.
Problem or not, I didn't regret any of it. My existence had been empty for so long, and I finally felt alive again. Hope had been missing from my life for some time, and now it was back. I deserved to revel in it for a while. But first, I had to take care of some important business, to make sure I didn't sink this new hope before it had a chance to take hold.
Once we were at a cruising altitude and I was allowed to access the plane’s Wi-Fi, the first thing I did was pull up my smartphone and email Katherine back in LA. I asked her to reject the payment that Zane would be sending within the next few hours, my million-dollar check for the twenty-four-hours we spent together. She would be upset, I knew. She was expecting a cut of that fee for her work. I put a note in the email explaining that I would pay the fees she lost myself, so that she wouldn’t lose out on anything. I couldn’t really afford to lose that much right now, but I didn’t have a choice. It was the right thing to do.
The way I felt about Zane made it impossible to take any money for spending time with him. It felt wrong, and I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want him to think for a second that my only interest in him was money or riches. And since it was my stupid heart and conscience that ruined both of our paychecks, I had to make it up to Katherine and make sure she got paid anyway. She had worked so hard for me throughout my career. She didn’t deserve to be shafted like that, and I refused to be just another blood-sucking parasite on the streets of Hollywood.
After sending the email I shut my phone down and tried to nap in the luxurious bed, but it didn’t work. I ended up digging into the paperback I had brought while night drifted by, quiet and dark over the vast expanse of the ocean. It was difficult to keep my thoughts off Zane and our time together. I couldn’t remember being so happy in a very long time. Zane treated with me respect and sweetness. I trusted what he told me, because he was strong enough in character that he didn’t need to put up pretense or act macho just to protect his ego. He wasn’t insecure; he was only concerned with doing the right thing for everyone. Being with a man like that was something every girl dreamed of.
I realized, then, that I had been stupid to ever think I was happy with Jack. Even spending a single day with Zane had proved that. There’s a time in every girl’s life where she finally learns the difference between a nice guy and a phony, and realizes she’s accidentally been trying to chase the latter and turn him into the former. But Zane didn’t require any adjustments. He was already everything a woman could want in a man. He didn’t try to tear me down because he felt threatened by my accomplishments; he didn’t try to demean the people or studios that valued me; he didn’t make subtle digs at my looks or my weight, or ask me if I was sure I wanted to eat the meal I ordered and not trade it for a salad instead.
Jack was a boy. Zane was a man, and now I understood the difference. I wanted someone like Zane in my life, my heart, and my home. Someone I could trust to do the right thing and protect me instead of using me as a shield.
I wondered how I would go about doing such a thing. I didn’t know any protocol for asking a royal out on a date. Was there any? What if I insulted him in the way I asked? What if his culture dictated that he had to be the one to proposition me? What if he never did?
I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be excited about a man. All these emotional questions made me feel both happy and silly at the same time, like looking back at a journal I wrote when I was a teenager. It was the worry of someone who was excited
about her future and wanted to make it perfect. I realized that it had been quite some time since I cared about my future at all.
When the jet touched down at the same exclusive airstrip outside of LA, I said fond goodbyes to Raj and Nareem, who sweetly asked me for a selfie. I was tired and didn’t look my best, but was more than happy to oblige them, and took a selfie of us for my own memories too. They were delighted, and the sunshine in their smiles would warm my heart for days.
A driver from the same limo company was waiting for me as I got off the plane. The driver was a different guy from the one before, and he either didn’t know who I was or wasn’t impressed anyway. It was a relief, and made the drive home more relaxing. He barely said a word to me after confirming that I was indeed his passenger. When we arrived at my place, he brought my luggage to the door and gave me a tight bow before he pulled away without another word.
I brought the keys to the lock and twisted the front door knob with my other hand. But the door was already unlocked, and swung open under the pressure of my grip. I gasped in surprise and panic.
“What the…?” I said quietly. I thought I had canceled the expected visit from one of my cleaning crew after I had accepted Zane’s offer, but maybe they had come anyway, and left the door open. But it was a mistake they had never made before, and something didn’t feel right in my gut.
I had never had a stalker before, but there was a first time for everything, and no shortage of crazy fans who would break into a celebrity’s house just for the sake of it.
I couldn’t take any chances—I pulled out my phone and dialed 911 on the touch screen, ready to call them with just one more tap.
Slowly, I entered the house, leaving my baggage on the porch. The alarm system had been turned off, but not triggered. Someone with the code had simply punched it in after they entered.
I made my way through the living room and den, finding them both empty. The kitchen was untouched. It didn’t seem like anything had been disturbed or stolen, which was a bit of a relief. After checking the bathrooms and bedrooms, I was almost convinced it must have been the cleaning crew after all, and made a mental note to ask them to be more careful in the future. But then I noticed that the back door leading outside was ajar, the warm Santa Ana winds blowing the curtains around the living room like ghost arms. Someone was waiting for me.
THIRTEEN
I stalked over to the door and stepped outside. Lying in a lounge chair next to my pool was Jack Lister, my ex-boyfriend and one of Hollywood’s hottest bad boys. He had dark sunglasses on that kept me from seeing what his eyes were doing. His blond hair had been cut into the long-on-the-top undercut that was all the rage these days. The T-shirt he wore under his pinstriped suit was the clingiest of V-necks—because he couldn’t go a day without reminding everyone about his built chest. He was smiling at me like a vampire before his kill, dangling a set of house keys on his finger.
Anger boiled in my blood. I knew I should have changed the locks and alarms after Jack and I broke up, especially since he had no idea what the word ‘boundaries’ meant. I hadn’t heard from him in months, yet I wasn’t surprised to see him here now. It was typical Jack Lister behavior. Of course he was crazy and stupid enough to do something like this when he wanted attention.
“What are you doing here, Jack?” I demanded, hands on my hips, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Well hello to you too, kitten,” he replied sarcastically, a lazy grin spreading across his face.
“Don’t call me that,” I spit back. “Tell me what you’re doing here, or I’m going to call the cops and you can explain to them.”
“Oh, the tabloids would love that,” he mocked, sitting up. “They would eat that drama up with a spoon and a side of gravy. But it would really only help one of our careers, and I don’t think it would be yours Julianne. Are you sure you want to do that?”
Mention of my career sent me reeling with fury, and I could feel heat in my neck and face. Jack always knew how to push my buttons, and he had no qualms about doing it just to get his way.
But he wasn't wrong; calling the cops would make me look like another crazy ex, and make Jack look like even more of a dangerous bad boy.
Still, I was done screwing around with him.
I took a deep breath. “Jack, I’m going to count to five, and then I’m going to call the cops and have you arrested for breaking into my house. One…”
He lifted up his arms, trying to coax me. “C’mon, don’t be so dramatic.”
“Two.”
He threw his legs off the lounge. “You never know how to turn the diva act off, do you? That’s why you’ve ended up alone, you know.”
I gritted my teeth and held up the phone with 911 plainly displayed and waiting. “Three…”
“Okay, okay,” he conceded finally, throwing his hands up. He stood up from the lounge chair and re-buttoned his jacket, shrugging his shoulders. He shook his head at me and walked past me back into the house. “No need to make this any worse, kitten. Let’s go in and have a talk.”
“You’re not in charge here,” I growled. “I want you out of my house.”
He stopped short, turning back to face me just before he reached the glass door. “But I came to talk to you, and I’m not leaving until I’ve said what I came to say.”
“If you want to talk to me, you can contact my agent like every other professional in this city.”
Jack let out a bitter, mocking laugh. “Oh yeah, your successful and important agent who can’t even afford her own car anymore. I’m definitely going to waste my time barking up that tree. Why would I, when I have the keys to get to you myself?” He jangled them again.
“I swear, Jack, you are by far the biggest scumbag I have ever met.”
He laughed at that. Nothing ever seemed to faze him, and he had no problem using that to his advantage.
Jack took his sunglasses off, revealing his icy blue eyes. There was no denying his good looks, but being this close to him again made me reel with nausea.
He took a few steps forward. “Look, this is a real offer, I swear. It’s important. I came here to help you out, kiddo; I know you’re not doing so well on the work front nowadays. I’m just trying to look out for you.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“Sure,” said Jack, with a heavy nod. “Well that’s a shame, because I’ve got an offer from the Roland Brothers; they’re looking for leads for the new action blockbuster next summer.”
That was a nuclear bomb of an announcement. My jaw opened before I could stop it, and I saw the satisfaction spread across Jack’s face in a knowing smile.
He knew I was hooked. That’s why he had risked breaking into my house after months of no contact: he knew he had something good enough to warrant the risk. This really was all just a game to him.
There was no point trying to hide my interest in his offer. “Are you serious?” I asked.
“Serious as a heart attack,” he nodded.
“What’s the catch?”
“Oh, kitten, can’t we just enjoy this moment before you get all cynical? It’s almost like old times,” he stepped towards me with a sly smile I recognized all too well. He knew how handsome he was. It was one of his worst qualities—especially when he used it to manipulate people.
I put out a hand to stop him coming any closer. “What’s the catch?” I repeated.
He sighed and folded his arms. “The studio wants us to stage a reconciliation to help push up the buzz of the movie. They want to shove our faces down everyone’s throats, so that means you and I have to become Hollywood’s hottest couple again.” He made no attempt to hide his satisfaction of the shock factor, smiling like a wolf.
My heart dropped and my gut clenched. For a moment, I had let myself get excited about the opportunity, but there was no chance I would ever call myself Jack Lister's girlfriend again. Not for money, or fame, or even the most Oscar-winning role in the history of cinema
.
Jack kept talking, undeterred by my sour expression. “It’s not a big deal, you know, and it’s all for the cameras. I mean, that’s not to say there won’t be some real heat between us. We always did have great chemistry, didn’t we?”
I rolled my eyes. “What happened to Avery?” I said, crossing my arms. “You made such a huge production out of leaving me for the next It Girl. All that B.S. you spouted, pretending to care about the charity work she does and becoming a humanitarian yourself. Does this mean you've already chewed her up and spat her out?”
Jack shrugged, making me sick at his lack of concern for her. “She doesn’t know yet, but she'll understand. It's just the business. Plus, it will just make the tabloid stories even harder to look away from. The public loves a sad little white girl to pity and make them feel better about their own lives.”
“What you're describing is a train wreck, and you're the suicidal conductor at the helm.”
“Hey, whatever rakes in the dough,” Jack replied without shame. “Don't hate the player, hate the game, kitten. And I didn't invent the game, I just perfected it.”
“You’re a monster.”
“That hurts my feelings,” teased Jack.
“You deserve worse,” I shot back. “I’m not doing it. I don’t want the part. It’s not worth it to fake being your girlfriend again, and I’m certainly not going to contribute to breaking the heart of another poor girl who was naïve enough to believe in you. I don't want any part in your sick little plans.”
Jack’s smile faded. I seemed to have finally hit a nerve. “Don’t act all high and mighty here, Julianne. You need this. Everyone in the Valley knows you need this, so don’t be stupid and turn it down just because you think you’re above playing the game like the rest of us.”
“You realize you’re playing a different game than everyone, right?” I told him. “Not everyone in this town is like you, Jack. Some people actually care about their craft and the decisions they make. Some people don’t want to hurt other people just to get what they want. Not everyone is okay with firebombing everything in order to collect the leftovers afterwards.”
Jack chuckled, amused. “Sweetheart, let me tell you something: you’re the one playing a different game. As you may have noticed, I’ve got the game down in my sleep, and the world agrees with me, which is why you see my smiling face on every billboard and movie screen across this country. So you can prattle on with your high-horse ethics or artistic integrity or whatever fancy name your yoga class introduced you to this week, but it's not going to change reality. And the reality is, you're on the downslope of your mountain, and you'll never get back up unless I help you. I'm your only ticket back to the A-list, kitten. Don't be stupid and turn it down.”
I stared at him, eyes narrowed, for a few angry moments after he finished his rant. “Wow, how could I resist a fake relationship with a charmer like you?” I rolled my eyes, disgusted, and trotted past him and into the house.
Jack followed me, chattering away, trying to wear down my resolve. He followed me right to the front door, where I held it open and gestured for him to leave, staring straight through him with tired eyes.
“C’mon Jules,” said Jack, standing in front of me in the doorway. “Stop acting stupid. You know better than this.”
“So do you. Now leave.” I pointed out the door, blank-faced.
He waited for me to relent, but I wouldn’t. Finally, he shook his head in some sort of disgust and carefully put his sunglasses back on. “You’ll be back,” he said as he walked onto the porch. “I saw that pile of overdue bills on the kitchen counter. You should think long and hard before rejecting me, Julianne. I'm all you've got.”
Before he could continue with his bile, I slammed the door on him and locked it, resolving to call a locksmith within the hour.
FOURTEEN
The day had been terrible, a complete inversion of the previous twenty-four hours I had spent with Zane, happy and laughing, worrying about and wanting for nothing. Being back home in my lonely, empty mansion was bad enough; being reminded not only of my past mistakes, but the dire nature of my future, only compounded all the turmoil raging in my head like a vast stormy ocean.
All I wanted was to be back in Al-Dali, tucked in the private cinema next to Zane, letting the day go by as we laughed and watched movies together. At the very least, I wanted to be able to sink into the walls of my house and never come out to face the world again.
Zane was right when he called Jack a monster. He had no boundaries, no concern for anyone but himself, and I had to make sure he stayed out of my life and far away from me forever. Now that he'd been in my house again, all the work I had done over the months of making the place feel like mine was undone. Now I could hear the footsteps of Jack's ghost, stomping drunkenly down the hallways.
I needed to deal with the shattering of the fleeting peace I’d had in heart and mind. I took a long, hot shower with some relaxing oils, then ordered dinner from my favorite Mexican restaurant. With a TV tray on my lap and a green tea on the night stand, I tucked myself into my cozy bed and, once again, allowed myself a lazy night of watching sitcoms. I kept my phone on silent, ignoring any emails or texts that came in. I didn’t want to risk seeing anything from Jack again tonight; his invasion of the sanctum of my home was bad enough.
Even after all the relaxation and carbs, sleep refused to come without a fight. Jack’s reappearance in my life was more upsetting than I could have imagined. He was such a vicious snake of a person, coming into my house without permission. He probably couldn’t help himself, couldn’t wait to give me the ugly news that he held the key to my salvation.
The fact that he came to make the offer in person told me it was important to him. Too important to trust to his agent, or even the chance a text or email would be leaked. Maybe the deal he had made with the studio heads relied on someone Jack knew getting stabbed in the back; it definitely wouldn’t be the first time. Whatever it was, Jack was trying to control how this all went down to make sure he was not only protected, but came out on top when all was said and done. Jack could be trusted to do one thing only: look out for himself. Every one of his calculated actions had that goal in mind.
This meant, for once, that I had an upper hand on him. During our relationship, I hadn’t seen Jack for what he really was, and that had left me broken every time my needs got in the way of his. Half the time he would go as far as to blame me for my own bad luck, even when he was helping manufacture it behind my back. He had no shame, and I hadn’t been able to see it, so it had been like fighting a ghost. I had lost every time.
But Jack’s nature was clear to me now. And it was clear he needed me very badly for this plan to go through. He knew how badly his actions had damaged my life and my career; he knew I hated his existence, and yet he asked me anyway. He would have found an easier way if there was one. That meant there wasn’t.
The thought made me smile in the dark. Jack must have endured more bad press than I thought after our breakup. It appeared on the surface that his bad boy façade made him more popular to the everyday movie fan, but that regard didn’t always translate with his fellow industry workers. Maybe his reputation was finally catching up to him, and he had to do something to fix the nasty things he’d done.
If there was any way my involvement in the movie would help Jack’s career or erase the damage he had done to my life, there wasn’t a chance I would say yes. Even though the move would no doubt benefit me too, it felt too much like I would be handing my soul over to the last person in the universe who should be near it. Jack didn’t deserve my help; I wasn’t going to enter a devil’s bargain with him. There would be nothing but regret down that road.
Still, he wasn’t wrong about the bills piling up on the kitchen counter. Now that I had turned down Zane’s money, I had to start being a little more realistic about my survival and reconsider some movie options I had been too proud to accept before. I’d rather deal with
the shame of being in a B-list movie than swallow my pride and bend to Jack’s will.