Leaving
“This way,” her dad motioned them toward a waiting limo. Clearly he had worked this plan out backstage with Brandon’s bodyguards. The two guys wore suits and had builds big enough to be featured on her dad’s offensive line. Together the bodyguards parted the crowd as they led the group to the waiting car.
“Brandon!” someone yelled.
“Over here, Brandon …”
“Are you and Bailey Flanigan dating?”
Bailey chided herself for being caught unprepared. She hadn’t spent an evening with Brandon in a long time, and never here in Los Angeles. As they walked through the mob, Bailey doubted she’d ever seen so many camera flashes in her life. This was twice the paparazzi at the red carpet event in Bloomington for The Last Letter — the film Keith Ellison and Dayne Matthews had produced before Unlocked.
She appreciated how Brandon led the way, right behind his bodyguards and in front of her parents. Not one camera could’ve caught a photo of the two of them together — something he had clearly maneuvered out of respect for her. When they were safe in the stretch limo, everyone seemed too shocked to speak, breathless over the frenzy.
Justin squinted at Brandon in the dim lighting. “You deal with that madness all the time? Like … everywhere you go?”
Brandon shrugged off the inconvenience. “Paparazzi are part of the territory.” He sat back and stretched his legs. Now that they were out of sight he had taken the spot next to Bailey. “There are ways around them. But not after a live appearance like that. They all know the way out of the studio.”
Gradually the boys started talking, admitting that they weren’t sure they could handle the pressure of living under that sort of scrutiny. “What if I had something caught in my teeth?” BJ always had the most off-the-wall comments. “I’d be afraid to eat.”
“Nah,” Brandon laughed. He seemed completely at ease, even if Bailey and her family were still dazed by the onslaught. “If you think that’s bad, wait till tomorrow night. An LA premiere is big enough on its own. But for a movie as talked about as Unlocked … yeah, it’ll be a circus for sure.”
Bailey appreciated how Brandon didn’t credit himself for being the cause of the media attention — even though that was the primary reason. He was definitely different than the guy she’d met the first day she auditioned opposite him for the role of Ella. God had softened his edges and given him a peace. Something he’d been missing before.
Only then did Bailey sit up straighter in the seat and realize the chaos behind them. The paparazzi hadn’t given up, and at least eight or ten cars were dodging traffic, trying to keep up with them. The limo driver must’ve been part of Brandon’s staff, because he drove utterly unfazed. Her brothers didn’t notice. They were quiet and like her, probably tired from the long day of travel and the time difference.
“You okay?” Brandon turned to her, his voice a whisper. “With the cameras and all?”
“Yes. Of course.” She took his hand and squeezed it. But when she went to let go, he gently held on.
“I want this weekend to be perfect.” He smiled at her, and the depth in his eyes was unmistakable. “Please … if you’re ever uncomfortable with the attention, just tell me. My driver can take us somewhere private with almost no notice.”
“Okay.” She giggled. At the other end of the limo, her parents looked happy, in a quiet conversation of their own. Her brothers were dozing off, lulled by the highway drive they were taking and still unaware of the paparazzi behind them. “Where are we going?”
“To my beach house. You’re staying with me.”
“We are?” Bailey had left the arrangements to her mom and now she turned in that direction. “Mom … you knew about this?”
“It made the most sense.” Her mother kept her voice low, so she wouldn’t wake the boys. “Brandon’s used to dealing with paparazzi. We aren’t.”
“Exactly.” Brandon slipped his arm around her shoulders. “I have room for everyone. Don’t worry.” He grinned, but his tone wasn’t flirty like usual. It was more adoring, like he really would do anything to make sure Bailey was comfortable this weekend. “Plus, this way we can spend more time together. If we had to worry about getting in and out of a hotel, we’d never see each other.”
Bailey felt herself relax. Her mother was right—the idea made sense. “No wonder your driver isn’t worried about the paparazzi behind us.”
“What?” Brandon’s voice reverted back to the familiar teasing. “You mean someone’s following us?”
Bailey released his hand and gave him a playful shove. “Very funny.” She crossed her arms so he wouldn’t be tempted to take her fingers in his again. She couldn’t lie. She liked how it felt, riding in Brandon’s comfortable stretch limo and holding hands with him. She cared enough about him that somehow holding hands seemed okay. But still … she didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. She yawned. “How much longer?”
He glanced outside and surveyed the part of the freeway they were driving on. “Fifteen minutes. Maybe twenty.” He settled back against the leather seat and found her eyes again. In the quiet dark of the late night, the friendly intimacy that had been a part of their time on set was instantly back again. “So … where’s the boyfriend?” He made a curious childlike look, and with great exaggeration he peered around their feet and in the shelving behind their headrests. “Nope. Still doesn’t seem to be hanging around.”
Bailey couldn’t help but laugh at him. Brandon entertained her, even when she was tired. “Okay … wanna know the truth?”
“That would be nice.” He leaned back, and this time shifted so he could see her better. “Sort of a general rule of thumb I have with all my friends. Tell the truth … as much as possible anyway.”
“Okay, then …” Bailey had known this moment would come when she and Brandon got together. She wanted to believe she had let Cody Coleman go, that he couldn’t break her heart again. But even thinking about saying the words that Cody wasn’t in her life made her heart ache. “He’s gone.” She refused to let her heart feel the pain here, now … while she was celebrating with Brandon. “He’s not in the picture.”
Brandon could’ve made a joke, teased her that starting tomorrow in theaters everywhere he, Brandon, was definitely “in the picture” with her. But he refrained from saying anything of the sort. Instead he held out his hand and waited until she tucked hers inside it. “I’m sorry, Bailey. His name’s Cody, right?”
“Yes.” She remembered to smile. “It’s okay. We haven’t talked since January. Three months now.”
“How’s your heart with all this?” Again this was a side of Brandon she hadn’t seen. The guy she’d worked with spouted quick one-liners, always able to laugh at any situation. But not now. Once more she had to believe this new maturity could only have come from his deepening faith.
“I’m okay.” She nodded, her eyes still on his. “Moving on, I guess.”
Only when it was obvious she wasn’t going to break down, and that enough time had passed that this situation with Bailey wasn’t a crisis, did Brandon let the hint of a sparkle start up in his eyes. “So …” he gave his best Dumb and Dumber smile, “you’re saying there’s a chance!”
Their eyes held for a moment, and they both burst out laughing, the sort of late night laugh attack that made Brandon eventually reach for a couple pillows — one for him and one for her — to stifle the noise. Dumb and Dumber was a movie they’d called up once on Brandon’s iPad during a break on the set. They’d watched only the funny scenes, and that day they couldn’t stop laughing either.
When they could finally breathe, the driver had already exited the freeway and was winding up a steep canyon road to an enormous house on a hill. Bailey looked the other direction. “Are we at the beach?”
“Yes.” He yawned, put his arm around her again, and leaned his head against hers. “I moved here in February. You’ll love the view when the sun comes up.”
“Feels like that’ll happen in a few hours.” She cou
ld’ve fallen asleep right here, like her brothers. The laughter had tired her out, and every wonderful thing about her friendship with Brandon was back to the way it had been the last time they saw each other. All that, and she had no reason not to sit close to him or hold his hand. She was single, after all. If she wanted to date Brandon Paul she could.
Matt Keagan had a girlfriend and Cody couldn’t care less. But tonight with Brandon she felt more at ease than before, more appreciative of the changes that had happened to him since he’d begun living for God. They bid each other goodnight at the bottom of the stairs that led to the guest wing of his house, and Brandon was a complete gentleman. No long hug or hints at anything inappropriate.
As she walked up the stairs, a chill ran down her arms. Brandon Paul … Bailey smiled at the thought. And that night, as she fell asleep in the bed opposite the one two of her brothers shared, she allowed herself to think about the possibility.
Even for just this one night.
Thirteen
THE SUNRISE REFLECTED ON THE PACIFIC OCEAN WAS EVERY BIT as beautiful as Brandon had said. Bailey climbed out of bed and saw she was the only one awake. Her brothers — and probably the rest of the family — were still sleeping. She checked the clock on the nightstand. Just seven in the morning. The time change must’ve had her body confused.
She had slept in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, plenty warm enough for the California night. The entire back wall of this part of his house was glass, the panoramic ocean view mesmerizing. Bailey walked to the balcony, slid the door open, and stepped outside. Back home the weather was still chilly, snow still piled up in most parking lot corners. But here in Malibu, the breeze off the water was warm and full and fresh against her face.
Bailey breathed in deep and leaned against the railing. No wonder the movie industry had settled here in Southern California. It was impossible not to dream and create and believe the impossible standing here on the edge of the ocean. Bailey lifted her eyes to the vast blue that hung like a canopy over the sea. Dear God, this is the day … the premiere … please, Father, use this film to change our country … to lead people to You.
She hadn’t given a lot of thought to the movie, really. For her and the other actors, the film had been behind them for many months. But for the public, today was a beginning. Goosebumps flashed on her arms and bare legs. The possibilities were endless, and suddenly she was glad for this moment, for a sliver of sanity and solitude at the beginning of what would inevitably be a frenzied day.
Brandon’s beach house was situated so that the ocean was his backyard. No paparazzi could’ve gotten into the small grassy yard behind his house unless they scaled a steep cliffy embankment and found a way over his eight-foot brick wall. The front, of course — where they had entered the house through the garage last night — was fair game. Bailey bet there were cameramen already outside waiting. Especially since she and her family were staying here. One more reason for them to think they’d catch a glimpse of something newsworthy, like her and Brandon, or her family, leaving the house together. The Flanigans were new and different to the Hollywood crowd, and Brandon had warned her last night that all of them would be under scrutiny the entire weekend. She laughed to herself. BJ was right about his teeth — at least for the next forty-eight hours.
“Hey,” Connor joined her on the balcony. He shielded his eyes and scanned the ocean view. “Is this amazing, or what?”
“It is.” She motioned for him to join her, and he did, leaning on the railing beside her, their arms touching. Connor had been her best friend all her life growing up. Only lately — when he’d been busy with football and music and she’d been in college — had they allowed some distance between them. “Could you live here … in Los Angeles?”
“I was thinking about that.” Connor turned toward the water.
“And …?” Bailey loved her brother so much. He was strong and virtuous and he wanted so badly to glorify God with his life. This moment alone with him was one more amazing gift to start the day.
Connor nodded slowly. “I think I could.” His eyes danced, and his seriousness cracked and became a laugh. He looked again at the deep blue Pacific. “I mean, come on, Bailey. You couldn’t do this?”
“Remember, this isn’t exactly real.” She turned her face to the breeze again. A pair of seagulls swept by and squawked as they lighted on the damp, sandy shore. “Brandon might come home here, but he spends his days fighting LA traffic, finding his way through the maze of city cement and asphalt and stucco and steel. High-rise buildings and almost no trees or grass or ocean views.”
“Really?” Connor gave her a pointed look. “This from the girl who dreams about living in New York City.”
Bailey hesitated, but then she laughed. “Good point.” She thought for a long moment, trying to put into words the difference. “New York’s a city, but it’s more like a village. You can get around on foot or by subway.”
“Yeah,” Connor looked at her. “LA’s more of a concrete jungle, I guess.”
“Exactly.”
“But for me … if I want to act or sing … this,” he spread his hand toward the vista, “all of this is where dreams come true.”
This was something Bailey hadn’t heard from Connor … at least not with so much certainty. “You might want to act?”
“Yes.” He grinned. “I mean, I want to try out for American Idol first, of course. And I’ll always love singing … but Broadway’s not for me, Bailey. The culture would drive me crazy.”
Bailey understood. It was a very artsy community … Connor — the quarterback of the football team — might have a hard time finding his place in New York City. “So acting, huh?”
“Maybe.” He turned his back to the view, his arms crossed. “We’ll see. But I could do this — the LA thing. I liked how Brandon handled the paparazzi yesterday.” He paused, thoughtful. “I think if a guy is living for God, the whole fame thing isn’t impossible.”
“Hmmm.” Bailey smiled at her brother. “I miss this, you and me talking.”
“Me, too.” He opened the patio door. “Hey, Brandon’s making breakfast. He says we’re eating in half an hour. Then he’s taking us down to the beach for a walk. He has a secret path or something.”
“Brandon’s making breakfast?” Bailey contained a lighthearted giggle. “Really?”
“Okay, not Brandon. His staff.” Connor gave her a look like this was normal, hanging out on the balcony of a beach house and having breakfast with Brandon Paul. “You know … just living the life.”
They both laughed, and Connor went to get ready. Bailey remained on the balcony for another few minutes. She could stay in her shorts and T-shirt if they were headed down to the beach. Put her hair in a ponytail, grab a baseball cap, and call it good until later when they needed to get ready for the night. For now, she wanted to soak in every moment of how it felt to be here. Just the big wide ocean, the Lord, and her.
She replayed in her mind the time with Brandon last night. He was as charming as ever, but this time he was so much more thoughtful, more aware of her as a person. She stared at the crashing waves and tried to imagine her life, if somehow she found a way to live in Los Angeles and keep trying out for movie roles.
If she actually dated Brandon Paul.
For a single instant Cody’s face came to mind. What was he doing this weekend while she was here celebrating the premiere of her movie? Did he even know the film opened this weekend? Did he care? Bailey felt again the pain in her heart, the ache that would probably always be there when she thought about Cody. The more time that passed, the more she realized how right her mother was. Cody had broken her heart, and he had done so seemingly without regret. Never mind that he thought he wasn’t good enough for her. That argument was old. Whatever had really caused him to move on, it shouldn’t have mattered as much as her, as much as she should’ve meant to him. Especially after she had loved him all this time. The truth was, he didn’t care, not that much anyway. He couldn
’t have cared. Otherwise he’d be calling her and insisting they meet and talk about what happened. He wouldn’t let her go if he loved her.
The reality was that simple.
Brandon’s interest — no matter how lighthearted — eased the hurt in her heart. It even helped distract her from the disappointment of not winning the Hairspray role. She could hardly feel sad on a day like today—no matter what doors God might close in New York City. Again she stared at the crashing waves. A few guys on boogie boards ran into the water, laughing and splashing up foamy surf as they headed for the breakers. Bailey watched them paddle out and then wait … one minute, two … until finally the perfect wave appeared. They caught it and rode it all the way to shore.
Life was like that. A lot of work and training and preparing, all so that when the time was right a person might catch the perfect wave. One problem … Bailey wasn’t sure what to look for, whether that wave would take her onto a Broadway stage — something that seemed less likely than ever — or whether it might even lead her to Los Angeles.
Enough daydreaming, she told herself. Dear God … You’re in charge. I won’t worry about which wave is the right one. Instead, I’ll trust You that when the time is right, the perfect wave will appear. Just help me be ready to ride it in, Lord. She smiled, enjoying the analogy. Thank You … for the beauty of today.
I have loved you with an everlasting love, Daughter … I am with you always.
Bailey savored the sensation, the feeling that the Creator of the universe was communicating with her right here on Brandon Paul’s balcony. It was the best thing about loving God: knowing that He would never leave her, never let her walk alone. With that in mind, she fixed her hair, found the baseball cap from her suitcase, and met her family and Brandon for breakfast.