I forgot where I was for a moment, but as light streamed in through the filmy drapes that covered the French windows in the pool house, the horrors came flooding back. Chocolate, locusts, and yes, vomit. Oh, heck. I'd never live that down.

What time was it? Ten minutes to five, according to my phone. I'd gotten a whole four hours of sleep, and now I needed to call Trent before I ventured outside to live the Hollywood dream. Or rather, the nightmare.

I hadn't really noticed last night, but the place smelled musty, stale, as if nobody had ventured in there for weeks or even months. The kitchenette was covered in a layer of dust, and a dozen ants had breathed their last in the shower. I rinsed them down the plughole before stepping inside to wash away my bad decisions.

Wishful thinking—it didn't work.

My hair hung wet around my shoulders as I dialled Trent. I'd left my blow dryer in the main house, but it didn't matter because Shonda would do a far better job at taming the mess than I ever could.

"Violet? How's the filming?"

"Fantastic. I had yesterday off because I didn't have any scenes, so I got to sit by the pool and go over my lines. And the weather's so beautiful here." Most of that was true. It was only the first word that was an absolute lie. "How are your cases going?"

"I successfully defended a DUI today. The cops didn't have any definitive proof that my client had indulged in drink or drugs, so it was a slam dunk. I honestly don't know how it got as far as court."

"I saw a documentary the other day that said the entire system is broken."

"Not the entire system, but it certainly has its flaws. But then again, if they fixed all the loopholes, my job would be a whole lot harder. Do you have scenes today?"

"One with a lawyer, ironically. My character and another cop have to interview a murder suspect."

"Need any tips?"

I choked out a laugh. "The scriptwriters wouldn't be happy if I started changing things."

"Well, it needs to be realistic." A pause. A long, uncomfortable pause. "Violet, are you okay? You're quieter than usual."

Damn Trent and his perceptiveness. He'd honed that skill in court, but I hated when he used it on me.

"It's nothing important. Just a gift that a deranged fan sent me yesterday. I guess it upset me a little."

"What kind of gift?"

"Chocolates. Except they had locusts in them."

"Locusts? As in, actual locusts?"

"I accidentally swallowed half of one."

"That's obscene. What did the police say?"

"The police? I didn't tell them."

"What? Why not?"

Because between throwing up and moving out, it hadn't occurred to me. "All I got was the box. There wasn't a card or a note or anything."

"There might have been fingerprints."

"And there might not. The only guarantee was that the story would have found its way onto the internet. 'Violet Miller pukes over infested candy'—I can see the headline now."

"You really should consider reporting it."

"Fine, I will."

"You'll report it?"

"No, I'll consider it."

"Easy, Violet. I'm not the enemy here."

I forced myself to take a calming breath. In on three, out on five, the way the ultra-bendy yoga teacher told me to do when Lauren had insisted we go to a class last year. Thankfully, her health kick hadn't lasted long, only until she'd found out the classmate she liked had a steady girlfriend.

"I know, and I'm sorry. I'm a bit off balance today."

"When you make it back to Oakwood Falls, I'll take you out for a nice relaxing dinner, just you and me. A good steak, or Italian if you prefer. No locusts in sight."

His offer should have been music to my ears. After all, wasn't that what I wanted? Time with Trent? But instead, it brought back memories, and a tear popped out before I could blink it back.

Dinner, just you and me. I'd been waiting for years to hear those words. Years. All through high school, the four years Trent spent in Boston studying political science, and his three years at NYU Law. During his final semester, I'd counted down the days until his return to Kansas, but with five weeks to go, he'd called me, full of news.

"I've done it. I've landed a job at White & Sullivan." My silence must have reminded him I didn't live in his world. "They're the biggest law firm in New York, Violet."

He'd what? A job? He was staying in New York?

"B-b-but I thought you were coming back to Oakwood Falls to work for your dad?"

"I will be, but not right now. Pop's still sprightly, and what better way to gain experience than working for one of the best firms in the world?"

"That's...that's great." I'd forced the words out. They hadn't wanted to come, and in hindsight, perhaps that was the moment I'd started my acting career. "I'm thrilled for you."

"Next time I come back to Kansas, I'll take you out to celebrate. Pick any restaurant you want. We can head over to Oakwood Ridge with the old gang and make a night of it."

"I miss you," I whispered. It just slipped between my lips before I could think.

"Being away is difficult for me as well, but this is an opportunity I can't afford to pass up. Three of my frat brothers are starting at White & Sullivan too, and we've rented an apartment together in Tribeca. Quite cramped, not like home. How are the horses, anyway?"

"Fine. They're all fine. Everything's fine."

I'd spent the next month mourning the loss of a man I'd never had while mucking out horses in the morning and waitressing at Jet's Diner in the evenings. Then, on day thirty-two, I did the most impulsive thing I'd ever done in my life. It was also the most stupid. I quit both my jobs, kissed a tearful Momma goodbye, and spent all my tip money on an economy ticket to New York.

This was my big moment, my chance to finally tell Trent that I didn't just miss him, I couldn't think or move or breathe without thinking of him. He'd given me his new address, and after getting lost twice, twisting my ankle when I tripped over a loose drain cover, and getting ripped off by a cab driver, I found myself outside his apartment. A small place, he'd said, but it sure looked big to me. Everything looked big. So tall and noisy and busy. Until that day, I'd never seen a skyscraper, and as I walked around the busy streets, I felt like a mouse avoiding Bigfoot.

I heard Trent before I saw him. I'd have recognised his laugh anywhere. My heart picked up its pace, knocking against my ribs like a woodpecker, but as I was about to throw myself at Trent's Italian-leather-clad feet, I realised he wasn't alone.

No, she was with him. I'd never found out her name, and I never wanted to, but she was beautiful. Tall, blonde, willowy—everything I wasn't. His arm around her waist and the way he kissed her softly on the lips as he buzzed open the front door left me under no illusion as to the nature of their relationship.

Trent didn't notice me standing there on the sidewalk, a statue among bustling commuters and tourists. I'd turned to stone from the inside out, and I didn't—couldn't—move an inch until a man too busy looking at his phone walked straight into me.

"Hey! Watch it," he snapped.

Ever noticed how nobody in New York smiles? Not one person offered so much as a sympathetic glance as I fled along the street in tears, tugging my suitcase behind me. How on earth could I have been so stupid? Me, Violet Miller, a waitress from Kansas, had actually thought I might stand a chance against all the polished perfection New York had to offer.

A cab nearly ran me down, but before the driver got a chance to yell at me, I jumped into the back seat.

"Can you take me to the airport?"

"Which airport?"

"Any freaking airport!"

His eyes met mine in the mirror, and I saw that hint of panic men get when faced with a crying woman.

"Okay, lady."

If I'd been thinking logically, I'd have caught the first flight home to Kansas, but I'd left my sanity behind on the sidewalk outside Trent's little love nest. Getting as far as possible away from him and her seemed the most sensible option. And when I left Oakwood Falls, Mom had told me how proud she was that I was finally spreading my wings and leaving the nest. I couldn't go crawling back with my tail between my legs. I couldn't. In my head, I heard my dad's voice too—When life kicks you in the butt, Vi, stand up taller.

At JFK, the lady behind the ticket counter silently passed me a tissue. "Where do you want to go, ma'am?"

"California." Two and a half thousand miles away from Trent. That seemed like a reasonable distance, and I could worry about the credit card bill later. "I want to go to California."

And while Trent had spent two years in New York, I'd stayed on the West Coast. He'd never found out about my foolish visit, and I didn't intend to tell him, but even on the other side of the country, I couldn't get him out of my mind. Lauren knew the details—she had a way of prying information out of everyone—and when Trent had returned to Oakwood Falls alone six months ago, we'd come up with our grand plan. OTT. Violet 2.0. And with my role in Hidden Intent, perhaps I could convince Trent I was a successful career woman, not the quiet girl three years his junior who wiped tables after school.

When I didn't accept his invitation right away, he spoke again. "It'll be just like old times."

Just like old times? Oh, no, that was the last thing I wanted. "I can't wait."

"Violet? You don't sound very enthusiastic." A pause, and then for the first time ever, Trent sounded slightly uncertain. "Is it because of Kane Sanders?"

"What do you mean?"

"I saw pictures of you out with him at the weekend. You looked as if you were having a good time, and I wouldn't want to tread on any toes."

Ohmigosh, Lauren had been right! The plan was working! My feet danced a little jig all of their own accord, but then I regained my composure. Play it cool, Violet.

"Kane's a friend. A good friend, but he won't mind me going out for dinner with you."

"Then it's a date. Just let me know when you're coming home."

A date.

I floated out of the pool house and along the tiled path to the terrace. Maybe, just maybe, my California adventure would have a happy ending after all? Only nine and a half more weeks to survive, then I could go back home where I belonged and hopefully snag the man I'd wanted for so long as well.

***

David still found something to grumble about during filming. Apparently, Veronica looked too happy while she and Lance interviewed Mariah, and we had to reshoot parts of that scene. But my secret smile was allowed while we interrogated Kelvin because, by that point, Veronica was struggling to rein in her feelings for the man she absolutely shouldn't have been swapping saliva with.

In her private moments, she agonised over her relationship. Should she leave her boyfriend? She wanted to, but Drake had a temper. I was keeping my fingers crossed that she found her courage. Drake might have been a cop, but so was she, and she knew how to use a gun by all accounts. Would I get an action scene? The next big script reveal was on Thursday, less than two days away, and my butterflies were already back, fluttering madly as I climbed into the car for the trip to the beach house. Lucas wound up the privacy screen and beckoned me closer.

"Wouldn't surprise me if the driver's selling stories to the tabloids," he said, keeping his voice down. "Kane's driver is."

"How do you know?"

"Kane had a phone conversation with his ex on the way back to the house last week, and the next day, the gossip pages knew all about it."

"That thing about custody of the cat?"

"Yeah, and I can see his point there," Lucas said. "What's he supposed to do with it?"

"I guess she didn't realise how allergic she was before she insisted on keeping it."

"Kane doesn't think she's allergic at all. He figures she just doesn't like cat hair on her clothes."

"Listen to us—we're at it now. Gossip, gossip, gossip. Uh, do you know what the outcome was?"

Lucas laughed, and it was infectious. If only all men were so easy to get along with.

"I wouldn't be surprised to find a new pussy back at casa de pesadillas."

The house of nightmares.

"Might give Mikki some competition."

"Now who's being the catty one."

"Miaow."

I burst into giggles again, and Lucas slung an arm over my shoulder and chuckled into my hair as I buried my face in the crook of his neck.

"That's better, my sweets. At least you're smiling today. I was getting worried about you."

"It's been a tough couple of weeks."

"I know, but I have news that might help. Donna called me earlier. I didn't want to say anything until after we finished for the day."

"That's your agent?"

Lucas nodded. "She's been in touch with Racino, and he's definitely interested. If you want to explore the project further, she's willing to represent you."

"Really? Did she find out what's involved? I'm still not sure I want to do another movie, but I loved Racino's last one."

"It's a horror movie with otherworldly elements. No romance for your character in this instalment, but you'd still be alive at the end, so there's also potential for a sequel. Plus you wouldn't be locked up in a house with a bunch of miscreants."

"One of the miscreants isn't so bad."

"Kane?"

"No, Mikki. I love her diet tips."

We stared at each other for a beat and then started laughing again. Perhaps some parts of this job weren't so terrible after all.