Chapter Two
It had been two months since that disastrous settlement conference, and Paige was still married to Julius. After she’d scribbled those two big words on their proposed agreement, the meeting was over.
Before Julius could say anything, Demi had ordered Julius and Michael to leave the building. Since then, he’d tried to contact Paige several times, via text, via phone, via email. He’d even shown up to the studio when he knew she’d be there—and promptly got arrested for violating the restraining order she’d had on him.
Despite her objections, he’d sent a Realtor to her house to assess its value. The poor Realtor had no idea what was going on, but found out soon enough when Paige told the woman exactly what she could do with the clipboard she was holding.
With the divorce hearing fast approaching, Paige couldn’t help but worry about the outcome. Even though Demi had assured her not to stress about it, she found herself obsessing about it, going over everything she’d done wrong in their relationship, blaming herself for her predicament.
Shifting in her favorite spot—her chaise lounge—she peered out at the ocean. The September breeze felt like balm against her skin. Paige had always loved being near the water. Growing up, they’d always lived near a beach—Manhattan Beach, Topanga Beach, or even the Good Harbor Beach off of Lake Michigan. Living in Atlanta with Julius for that short time had been hard for her. She’d missed the sand between her toes, the crash of waves against the shore, and the scent of sea air in her nose. Now he wanted to take it from her, he wanted to steal her joy, he wanted to snatch her peace.
Paige’s phone buzzed and she picked it up. She stared at the text from Andrew: How are you?
Disappointment filled the empty spaces in her heart as she contemplated her response to that question. Maybe he would know how she was doing if he’d been around to see the toll her divorce had taken on her life. They’d talked briefly over the past couple months about business, never about anything of substance. It was an obvious switch from the easy rapport they’d once had with each other.
Over the years, she’d come to depend on his guidance. More than that, she’d considered them friends. She’d grown to love him as a person and not just her agent. There was even a time when she’d thought it could be more than that. But his work obligations and her career trajectory had nipped that sentiment in the bud. Still, they’d remained close. And now they weren’t. It pissed her off, because she’d hoped he would be standing with her. She’d yearned for his strong, silent support. He didn’t offer it in the way she’d expected, and it pissed her off.
Instead of replying to his text, though, she turned her phone off. It was better she didn’t answer. It was best that she put Andrew in the same category as most people in her life—colleague. Not friend, not confidante, not . . .
The doorbell rang, and she dragged herself out of her safe haven and hurried to get it. The security firm she’d hired wouldn’t have let anyone get close if the visitor wasn’t on her approved list. Peering through the glass, she smiled at the sight of her publicist, Skye.
“Hi, Skye,” she said, opening the door.
“Hey, Paige.”
“Come in.” Paige stepped back, allowing Skye to enter. “What are you doing in town?”
Skye grinned. “Had to come check on you, lay my eyes on my favorite client.”
When Paige discovered Julius’s affair with Catherine Davis, who’d worked as Paige’s publicist for years, she’d promptly fired the woman. Jax Starks, president of Pure Talent, had immediately sent Skye to her aid. It turned out to be the best thing he could have ever done. Skye had stepped in to fill the vacant role on Paige’s team seamlessly.
They exchanged quick but sincere hugs. “I’m okay,” Paige told her. “Just relaxing on the patio.”
“Sounds like heaven.”
“Come on out. Glass of wine?”
With a wide grin, Skye said, “A big glass, thank you.” Once Paige had poured the wine, they retreated back to her oasis. Skye sat on the matching chaise. “So tell me . . . how are you really?”
Burrowing into the cushion, Paige took a sip from her glass. “It’s been hard.”
“I know it has. Julius is an asshole on his best day.”
Paige giggled. “You’re so right.”
Paige and Skye had bonded over failed romance, but they’d quickly discovered other shared experiences in life. As biracial women, they’d spoken often about the challenges growing up and finding their identity. They both considered themselves to be black women, even though Skye had embraced her Filipino culture. On the other hand, Paige had struggled to identify with her white father and his family. She suspected that had more to do with their absence in her life than her willingness to try.
“I’m sure Demi has everything under control, though,” Skye added.
“She’s pretty awesome,” Paige agreed. “Thanks for referring me to her.”
They spent a few minutes talking business, upcoming appearances, new interview requests, and future events. Paige appreciated Skye’s ability to cut through the clutter of her life. She never had to worry much about her career because she’d hired an amazing team—from her manager to her publicist to her . . . agent.
Swallowing hard, Paige admitted, “I feel tired, like I need time away. But I don’t know how to make that happen.”
“It’s definitely something we can discuss. If you want, I can reach out to Andrew and set up a meeting.”
“I don’t think so,” Paige grumbled.
Skye blinked. “Okay, that didn’t sound good. No meeting with Andrew?”
Shaking her head, Paige said, “No. I don’t need him. Vonda has been doing a great job in his stead. I’m actually thinking about staying with her.”
Her publicist’s mouth fell open. “Wow. I didn’t expect that.”
“Well, when your agent can’t be bothered to call you back, what else can you do?” Paige finished her wine and set the empty glass on the ground beside her. “It’s obvious his attention needs to be elsewhere right now.” Paige didn’t bother to mask the bitterness she felt in that moment. Because she fully intended to embrace her take-no-shit side for the foreseeable future. “And I’m shifting my focus to me, my health, my well-being.”
Skye bit down on her bottom lip. “Sounds like a plan. But . . .” She sighed. “Somehow I don’t think it’s what you really want.”
Paige averted her gaze and traced the pattern on her caftan. “My mother once told me that I would never get everything I want.”
“True, but you can have some of what you want.”
Meeting Skye’s gaze again, she said, “Sometimes I don’t even know what I want anymore.”
“Because of Julius?”
“Because everything I thought I wanted is nothing that I need. If that makes any sense.”
“It does.” Skye reached out and squeezed her hand. “I’ve been in that space, not knowing what I want, not believing I could ever feel happiness again. But let me tell you . . . you can.”
“Skye Palmer-Starks, when did you get so mushy?” Paige laughed. “Wait, I know. Garrett just melted all that ice inside you.”
“Girl . . .” Skye smiled. “I love that man.”
Paige had celebrated Skye’s recent engagement to Garrett Steele a few months ago. It was a happy occasion, and a much needed reprieve from the drama of her own life. And she couldn’t be happier for her friend.
“I can see that,” Paige said. “How’s the wedding planning?”
Skye told her about her venue woes, her mother’s insistence on designing her wedding gown, and her bossy bridesmaids. “I keep telling Garrett that I want to keep it small. Zara just had the baby, so she’s not feeling any of the dresses I pick out. She keeps saying her boobs look too big. And Rissa? Goodness grief, she just got married and has appointed herself the Wedding Queen. Even though I can plan a wedding in my sleep.”
Paige had to agree with that. Skye had planned Zara’s wedding to Xavier Starks in a matter of weeks and it had turned out perfectly. Paige had attended the Hawaiian ceremony with her mother and enjoyed the entire experience.
“In a minute, I’m going to fire them both and appoint Duke as my man of honor,” Skye added.
“What?” Paige barked out a laugh. She didn’t know Skye’s good friend Duke well, but he didn’t strike her as the “man of honor” type. “I would like to see that.”
Skye waved a dismissive hand. “It will never happen. I know that.”
“Well, you know I’m here if you need any help.”
“You’re too busy, Paige. I know because I have access to your schedule.”
Shrugging, Paige said, “Which is why I need to take a step back. I need to reset, spend some time healing.”
“You’ll get that time. I promise. If I have to smack Andrew to get him in line, I will.”
Paige’s smile fell. “You don’t have to do that. I meant what I said earlier.”
“I hate to see you like this. I get it, though. Divorce isn’t something I’d ever wish on anyone. But you’ll get through this. And you will love again, too.”
“I doubt that.” Paige sighed. “I’m not sure I even want to.”
“Trust me, it won’t be like this forever.”
“We’ll see.” Standing, Paige picked up her glass. “I need a refill. Hungry?”
“I can always eat.” Skye scooted off the lounger. “Preferably some of your delicious collard greens. Yum.”
Paige threw her head back with laughter. “Girl, you’re a mess. But you’re in luck. I made some for Labor Day.”
“I was hoping you did.”
An hour later, they’d eaten a delicious lunch and had more wine. Paige felt remarkably better, too. It felt good to chat with a friend, to unplug for a while with Skye. The doorbell rang again, and she excused herself to answer it. This time it was Demi.
When Paige opened the door, Demi stepped inside. “How are you?”
“I’m pretty good right now,” Paige said. “Skye is inside. We just had something to eat. What brings you my way?”
Demi smiled, but it wasn’t her normal bright smile. It was her serious, we-need-to-talk smile. “I hate to bring this to you when you’re having a good day. But I felt like I needed to give you a heads-up.”
“What is it?”
“Can we go in your office?” Demi asked.
“Sure.” Paige let Skye know she had to take care of some business but would be right back. When they entered her office, Paige opened the window to let the air in. “What’s up?” she asked, taking a seat on one of her chairs.
“Michael forwarded me a copy of their newest motion. Julius is asking for another forensic audit of your income.”
Paige’s stomach fell. “Why? We already went through this.”
“I know. He’s digging in his heels about the house. They told me they’d be willing to drop this latest motion and sign the settlement agreement, if you budge on the house.”
Closing her eyes, Paige let out a frustrated sigh. “He’s only doing this to slight me. He only wants the money.”
Julius’s recent financial troubles were the subject of many blogs and news articles. The once impressive fortune he’d amassed as a movie producer and director had dwindled substantially in the past year. He’d spent thousands on legal fees and lawsuits due to his criminal activities. And he’d lost opportunities to earn additional income because no one wanted to work with him anymore. Going after her money was the reason this divorce had dragged on for so long. Their prenuptial agreement had saved her from a hefty payout but the income she’d earned since they married seemed to be fair game.
“I have something up my sleeve,” Demi said, “something I just discovered. A game changer.”
Paige didn’t care anymore. She just wanted to be divorced. “Can I see the agreement again?”
Frowning, Demi pulled out the agreement and held it out to her. But she didn’t let it go when Paige tried to take it. “I don’t like that look in your eyes.”
“I don’t like how I feel right now,” Paige admitted. After a few tense seconds, Demi finally let the document go. “Don’t give up on me yet, Paige.”
“I’m not giving up on you,” she assured the attorney. “You’ve been wonderful. And I appreciate all of your hard work, your diligence, and your patience.” Paige turned to the last page of the document. “But it’s just a house.” Except it wasn’t just a house to her. The one thing she’d wanted to fight for felt like a cage now, a reminder of everything he’d taken from her and still wanted to steal.
“Paige, don’t sign that.”
Paige asked for a pen. This time, she asked for the blue pen. A few minutes later, she signed the settlement agreement. “Here. I’m done.”
“No, we’re not done,” Demi argued.
A tear spilled from Paige’s eye and she wiped it away. What she was about to do was breaking her heart. But she would do it because then it would be over. And she needed it to be over more than she needed this house.
“There are other houses, different beaches,” Paige said. “Right now, I just want this connection severed permanently. I need my life back. And I need my peace.”
* * *
Andrew Weathers had been bogged down with contracts, long meetings, and blueprints for the past several months. The new audio division for Pure Talent was officially up and running, but it required more time than he’d considered when he had agreed to spearhead the endeavor.
It had also taken him away from his clients, from the day-to-day work that he’d once loved. Andrew had been a loyal employee of Pure Talent Agency since he graduated from college. He’d learned from one of the best men in the business—Jax Starks. And he’d mentored several talented agents himself.
The actresses and actors he’d worked with had fueled his passion for agenting. Helping them succeed, pushing them higher in their careers, had made his job worth the hard hours, the time at the negotiation table, the stress of travel, and the many PR nightmares.
After many years in the business, though, he’d felt the pull to do something else, to step away from direct client work. Which was why he’d jumped at the opportunity to create something fresh within the agency. Now he could see the fruits of his labor, now he knew that he’d made the right decision to step back from his clients. He just had to get his heart on board with his mind.
A soft knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts. A moment later, his mentee poked her head in. “Got a minute?”
He smiled. “Sure, Vonda. Come on in.”
The petite woman grinned and stepped into the office. She took a seat across from him and set a folder on his desk. “Can you review this contract?”
He opened the folder and skimmed the first page, pausing at the name on the document: Paige Mills. “Is this the new Christmas movie?”
“Yes, I’ve combed through everything, triple-checked the clauses, and highlighted several changes I’d like to negotiate.”
Andrew had no doubt that Vonda had handled everything exactly the way he would have. That was the reason he’d transitioned the bulk of his daily client work to her. But there was one client he couldn’t completely let go. Although he’d let Vonda handle the direct communication, he still made sure he had the final say on everything that crossed his desk with her name on it. Paige.
“I also emailed it to you,” Vonda added.
“Thanks.” Closing the folder, he met Vonda’s gaze. “I’m happy with the work you’re doing. You’ve really stepped up to the plate.”
Vonda grinned. “I just appreciate the opportunity to prove myself.”
“You have nothing to prove. How is she?” He didn’t need to say who the “she” was, because Vonda already knew.
“Actually, I haven’t heard much from her. I’ve sent several emails, but Chastity has responded to all of them.”
“That’s strange,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Have you talked to Tanya?”
Paige had been managed by Tanya Baldwin at TB Management for the last eight years.
Vonda shook her head. “I called Tanya, and she hasn’t heard from her either.”
“Not like her,” he mumbled.
As Paige’s popularity skyrocketed with every performance, every new film, every television special, she’d always made sure she handled most of her own business. He knew that had a lot to do with her mother’s influence and her mother’s experience in the industry. Tina Mills had always stayed on top of her own career, even though she was represented by one of the most trusted, honest agents in the industry—Jax Starks. Although Paige had trusted Andrew to handle her career, she’d always followed her mother’s advice to the letter when it came to the business of acting.
“I figure she just needs time,” Vonda said. “It’s been a roller coaster for her.”
Nodding, Andrew considered her statement. He’d read the articles, he’d seen the slanted media coverage, and he’d heard the rumors. Paige’s divorce had turned into a media spectacle. Paparazzi had latched on to the story, probably hoping to expose anything that would make viewers question her Black America’s Sweetheart status. But she’d prevailed, maintaining her reputation as the lovable real-life heroine she’d always been.
“I read the latest article,” he said. “Divorce is final?”
“Yes. By all accounts, she walked away with everything she brought into the marriage.”
“Good. Is there—?” Another knock interrupted his inquiry. “Come in.”
Skye Palmer-Starks opened the door. “Andrew?”
While it wasn’t uncommon for Skye to be in Los Angeles for business, he hadn’t expected her to drop by his office. “Skye? What brings you here?”
Skye greeted Vonda with a warm smile before turning cold eyes on him. “We need to talk. Alone,” she added with a raised brow.
Vonda quickly excused herself, leaving him with the obviously irritated Skye. Since she’d taken over publicity for Paige, he’d often been on the tail end of her ire, mostly because of his decision to step back.
“What’s up?” Andrew asked.
“I need your help.” Skye took Vonda’s vacated seat. “Paige is off the grid.”
Andrew frowned. “What do you mean she’s off the grid?”
“What does off the grid mean to you, Andrew? She’s gone.”
“I know what it means.”
Skye shrugged. “So why did you ask the question?”
He let out a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. “Because I’m trying to understand what happened.”
“Maybe if you’d been talking to her like you should’ve been, you might be able to answer your own damn question.”
Andrew paused. Skye was right. If he’d been there, maybe he’d know the details, maybe he’d know how to get through to Paige, maybe she wouldn’t have disappeared in the first place. “When did she leave?”
“The day after the divorce was final.”
“What happened?” he asked.
“Again. . . I. Don’t. Know. Shit, I’m just as confused as you are.”
He took a deep breath and counted to ten. Andrew had known Skye for years, and he considered her a friend. But she had an uncanny ability to get under his skin. “When did you see her last?” he grumbled through clenched teeth.
“Two weeks ago” was her inadequate answer.
“Where?” he blared, surprised by his own outburst.
Skye’s eyes widened. “Okay, damn.” She crossed her legs. “I saw her right after the court hearing. She was happy Demi was able to save the house.”
“The house?” he asked. “What does her house have to do with the divorce? She bought it after they separated.”
“I can see you’re out of the loop,” Skye muttered.
“Julius’s ass tried to force her to sell and split the value of the house because they were still married when she bought it.”
Muthafucka. Andrew could sit no longer. He stood, nearly tipping over his chair. Pacing the floor, he thought about how devastated Paige must have been. Especially since he knew how much she loved that house. Purchasing it had been a bright spot in the midst of the darkness.
“Andrew?”
He blinked. Sighing, he turned to meet her waiting gaze. “Yes.”
“I know your mind is working overtime, but I need your attention right now.”
“Go ahead,” he said.
“Anyway, I handled the press release. We celebrated with a shot of tequila, I went back to my hotel. When I came back the next morning, she was gone.”
“And that’s the last time you talked to her?” he asked.
“Yes. She missed reshoots for the rom-com, she was a no-show at the MTV Awards ceremony, and she turned off her phone. Tanya can’t find her. Chastity doesn’t even know where she is.”
Andrew shared what Vonda had told him about Chastity returning the emails. “She had to give her instructions to do that.”
“Actually, she hasn’t. Chastity is just good enough to know that business won’t stop. She took it upon herself to handle Paige’s inbox.”
He massaged his temples. The migraine coming on would be a big one, and he had no one to blame but himself. “Okay.” He took another deep breath. “Have you talked to Tina? What’s your plan?”
Skye smacked her palms on her legs. “I got nothing.”
“What the hell does that even mean? You always have a plan.”
It was one of the reasons her new public relations firm had exploded the way it did. In a few short months, Skye had built an impressive clientele. High-powered actors and actresses, directors, authors, and producers had left long-standing relationships with established PR reps to join the Skye Light PR family.
“I’ve done everything I know to do. Tina isn’t talking, her security team is in the dark, and I’m out of options.”
“I find that hard to believe,” he said. “We need to do something.”
“Correction . . . You need to do something.” She pointed at him. “I told you, I’m tapped out.”
Skye was right. He needed to find Paige and fix this—the sooner, the better. He would hate for her career to suffer. He hated the thought of her suffering. Andrew approached the huge window. His gaze shifted to the street below, the countless people going about their day as if the world was just right. Except, there was one woman’s world that hadn’t been right in a long time. It had been so wrong that she’d disappeared.
Staring out at the LA skyline, he wondered if she was okay, if she was safe. He ignored the ache in his gut that had built to a dull throb with every moment that passed since he’d found out she’d disappeared without a trace. He ignored what he knew that meant. Because he had to focus on one thing right now. Where are you, Paige?