~Sabrina~
I hate road trips. So many of my friends love to get into their cars and drive to fun destinations on vacation. I’m like, take a plane! You get there faster, have more time to enjoy wherever you are, and it doesn’t suck.
I sigh and pop a Frito into my mouth. I’m not usually a junk food person, but what else is someone supposed to eat while driving hundreds of miles? I can’t exactly sit here and eat a salad.
I bring up my best friend’s number and call Zane, letting the audio flow through my car’s Bluetooth.
“Why are you calling me?” he asks by way of greeting.
“I’m bored.” I slump in my seat. “Talk to me.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m driving up to Seattle today. It doesn’t look that far on a map. Why does it take six hours to drive it?”
“Too bad you can’t just wiggle your nose and be there,” he says and swallows. Sounds like he’s drinking something. “Are you excited?”
My first call after hanging up with Luke the other night was to Zane. Not only is he my best friend, but Zane and I also grew up in the business together. We started out on a sitcom playing siblings before we even hit puberty. We’ve been tight ever since.
And when I left LA, Zane skyrocketed in fame. He’s currently the most sought-after actor in Hollywood—as famous as Christian Wolfe or any other hot name in the industry.
I’m stupidly proud of him.
“I’m nervously excited,” I reply. “I haven’t acted in over a decade. What if I suck at it?”
“You don’t,” he replies easily.
“And what if the trainer is a complete asshole?”
“Luke wouldn’t hire an asshole,” Zane says. “I hear you crunching on something. What are you eating?”
“Fritos.”
“Probably won’t be on your diet, sugar.”
“I know, but I’m driving for like…days here, Zane. What am I supposed to eat?”
“Yeah, you’re not dramatic at all.”
I smirk, enjoying this easy banter with my friend. It makes the miles go by so much faster.
“What were you doing? And if you tell me you were getting laid, I’m hanging up.”
“I don’t have the time or the patience for a woman, and you know it. I was doing my pull-ups.”
“How many can you do?”
“Twenty-five before I have to rest.”
“Whoa. No wonder you look all buff in the movies.”
He laughs in my ear. “It’s all part of the job, as you know. They pay us a lot of money to look a certain way.”
“Oh, I remember distinctly. And I won’t fall back into an eating disorder to be a size two, Zane. I. Will. Not. Do. It.”
Throwing up, counting calories, practically killing myself and still it not being enough is something I’ll never do again.
“I’d have to smack you around if you did. There are healthy ways to tone up. You don’t have to be a size two.”
“Tell that to the casting directors,” I mumble.
“You bypassed that route this time, Rina. You’re going to be great. But you’re going to eat a lot of avocados.”
“I hate avocado. Unless it’s in guacamole. Does that count?”
“Sure, but you can’t have chips.”
“Well, damn.” We laugh together, and I pass a road sign. It feels good to be able to laugh about something that was so horrible just ten years ago. “I’m only fifty-two miles from Seattle. Thank God. I’ve been driving forever.”
“What time did you leave this morning?”
“Around seven.” I sigh and look in the rearview mirror. “I probably brought way more with me than I need, but I’m going to be here for six weeks.”
“No break for the holidays?”
“No, working right through. It doesn’t matter, Z. It’s not like I see my parents or anything over the holidays.”
“You see me,” he reminds me, his voice dry as sandpaper. “What am I, chopped liver?”
“You could come to Seattle for Christmas,” I offer. “I’m staying in a whole house. I’ll have plenty of space.”
“I just might do that. It would be good to get out of LA for a few days.”
“Yay, this makes me happy. Don’t call me a week before and tell me you can’t make it. Just make it.”
“You’re damn bossy for a woman who isn’t my wife or my mother.”
I grin. “And you love me.”
“Yeah. I do.”
“Oh, thanks for the donation a couple weeks ago, by the way. That was generous and appreciated.”
“Well, it’s a tax write-off.”
“Right. That’s the only reason you sent me six figures. It has nothing to do with you being a good guy. Or wanting to help out women and children. We wouldn’t want anyone knowing that.”
“I’m a dick, sweets. You know that.”
“That’s your reputation. I know better. Okay, I’m starting to hit some city traffic so I’d better pay attention. I love you, and I’ll see you at Christmas.”
“Love you too, babe. Call me later and tell me everything.”
“As always.”
I hang up and bring up the GPS with the address Luke gave me already punched in. I send off a pre-typed text, alerting Luke that I’m getting close. In less than an hour, I pull my car into a driveway.
A gorgeous brunette waves from the front porch. That’s Luke’s wife, Natalie. I’ve only seen her a few times with Luke at awards shows and in tabloids, but I’d recognize her anywhere.
Luke is fiercely private. His children have never appeared in the public eye, and he makes sure the paparazzi keep their distance.
How, I have no idea.
I open the door and step out of my car, cringing at the soreness in my muscles from sitting so long.
“Welcome,” Natalie says as she approaches with a big smile. “Long drive?”
“Yeah, and I’m not a road-trip girl so I’m cranky about it.” I offer her a smile. “But I’m already over it. I’m Rina.”
“Nat,” she replies, holding out her hand for mine. “Luke’s told me all about you. I’m excited to finally meet you.”
“Same here,” I reply.
“He’s at the office this morning for a last-minute meeting so he couldn’t be here, but I’m happy to give you the keys and show you around.”
“Great. This is a beautiful house.”
“Thank you. My parents left it to me when they passed away. When I married Luke, I didn’t want to sell. And it’s a good thing I didn’t because this house gets so much use in our family. People come and go and need a place to call home for a while until they either buy something of their own or go on their way back home. I’m happy we have it to offer for times like these.”
“That’s awesome. And handy.”
“Exactly.” She opens the door for me. “The code and the keys are on the counter there, along with the WiFi password.”
She shows me the large home. It has plenty of open space and gorgeous views of the Pacific Ocean.
“So, we’re in the Alki Beach neighborhood of Seattle,” she says as she leads me upstairs. “It’s a fun area, with some shops and cafes. Great restaurants. It’s safe to walk down by the waterfront. And you’re a short ten-minute drive from downtown.”
“Awesome. And who doesn’t love a view like this?” I ask as I stand at the window of the master bedroom, looking out at the water.
“I know, it’s the best. Please make yourself at home here. I can help you bring your things in if you’d like.”
“No, it’s honestly fine. I’ll go at my own pace and get settled. I really appreciate you and Luke. I feel safe here.”
The other woman reaches for my hand. “You are safe here. There’s an alarm system, and we’ve never had issues with paparazzi. You’re on the down low.”
“I have been for a long, long time.” I smile. “And I’d like to keep it that way.”
“Well, you won’t have any problems with it here.”
We chat for a few more minutes before Natalie leaves. Before she waves goodbye, she lets me know that I can call for anything I might need.
It takes me an hour to unload the car and leisurely put things in their places. When that’s finished, I realize I’m hungry for real food, so I set off in search of a nearby market.
I might as well get some groceries.
* * * *
It’s Monday morning, and I’ve been awake for an hour. I’m on my second cup of coffee and just bit into my bagel when the doorbell rings.
He’s prompt, I’ll give him that.
All I know is that my new trainer’s name is Ben. That’s it. This should be interesting.
I open the door and am immediately under intense male scrutiny—which I expect from a trainer.
He’s going to be getting me into shape.
What I don’t expect are the long silence and the gaping mouth.
“Hi, I’m Ben.”
I shut the door in his face and turn away, dialing Luke’s number as I walk across the room.
I hear the door open behind me, but I don’t turn around. I pace and mumble, waiting for Luke to answer.
Sure, gawk at the washed-up movie star, you jerk.
“Hello?” Luke says.
“Seriously, Luke?”
Suddenly, the phone is taken out of my hand, and Ben ends the call, earning a glare from me.
“I wasn’t staring because you’re a movie star. I was staring because I wasn’t expecting you to be quite this gorgeous.”
I prop my hands on my hips. Seems I might be speechless now, and that doesn’t happen often.
“I’m Ben,” he repeats.
“Sabrina.”
He looks me up and down again as my phone rings in his hand. To my surprise, he answers.
“Hey Luke, Ben here. She’s fine.” He passes me the phone with a smirk on his cocky lips, and I press it to my ear.
“Hi.”
“Everything okay there?”
“Yeah, false alarm, I guess.”
“Okay, let me know if you need anything. Have a good day.”
He hangs up, and I slip my phone into my pocket, then turn and lead Ben to the kitchen. Mostly, I have to look away from him so I don’t make a fool of myself. Because the man is hot with a capital H.
I take a bite of my bagel and watch in horror as Ben takes my plate and dumps the uneaten portion into the trash.
“Uh, that was my breakfast.”
“That isn’t on your list of approved foods,” he replies and sets a bag I didn’t even notice on my counter. “But I brought supplies for a day or two until we can go over your diet, and I can have the chef start cooking your food.”
“I have a chef?”
“Of course.”
“Luke doesn’t mess around, does he?”
“No. And neither do I. So, let’s get down to business.”
I sit on the stool by the island and watch as Ben starts pulling containers of food out of the bag.
“First, we need to chat,” he says as he stows some things in the fridge. “I want to make sure we’re on the same page and have the same goals in mind.”
“I have some rules,” I begin. “And I don’t bend well on them.”
“Okay, tell me.”
He leans on the counter, and the flex of muscles in his forearms does things to me.
Focus, Rina.
“I don’t starve myself.”
His eyes narrow. “You’re going to have so much food to eat, you won’t know what to do with yourself.”
I nod, relieved.
His brow creases. “Wait. What does this stem from?”
My eyes whip up to his. “None of your business.”
“It’s absolutely my business, Sabrina. If you have food issues, I need to know.”
“I don’t. Not anymore. I was anorexic for a long time when I was in the business. I guess it doesn’t matter if I tell you that. It was in every tabloid for years.”
He tips his head to the side, watching me. “And how are you now?”
“I’m firmly on the path away from starvation, and I actually like myself again., I’m not going back to that dark place.”
“Good. Because I have plenty of food planned for you, it’s just not bagels. Actually, there won’t be many carbs in your diet. There will be some because we all need some, but you’ll be on a protein and veggie-heavy plan. You’re not vegan or vegetarian, are you?”
“If I am?”
He sighs. “It’s doable, it just gets trickier. But I can work with it.”
“I’m not. I just wanted to see what your answer was.”
“Okay, let’s go over this list, and I’ll fix you a breakfast burrito.”
“I can have burritos?” I feel my face light up at the idea. I’m obsessed with Mexican food.
“My version of them, yes.”
“Why do I think our versions are different?”
“Because they most likely are. But don’t worry. You’re in good hands.”
I’ll be the judge of that.