Risky Return Page 15

  “Let’s start at the beginning, Celia. What’s your first memory?”

  The camera panned to Celia, a profile shot that did nothing to de-emphasize her beauty. But she was made up to look like a star, and he wondered if she was really going to give them the truth.

  Then Celia’s throat moved, a visible swallow. Her hands clasped together, a visible sign of nerves, nothing like the polished character she usually played on screen. “The first thing I remember is my mother yelling at me.”

  “For?”

  “For making my father angry enough to hit me.”

  There was a pause for dramatic effect. Then Dia’s questions, gently delivered, weaved Celia’s tale of child abuse. There wasn’t a thing Celia said that he hadn’t known. There wasn’t a feeling she expressed that he didn’t feel while watching her. There wasn’t a moment he didn’t want to be there for her. He had to hold on to the chair to keep from popping out of it. Running to a plane and flying there right this instant.

  “It’s such a sad reality,” Dia said, citing some child abuse statistics, relaying a piece of her own experience with it. “But more than that, you kept this a secret. Even as you became a public figure, this past of yours remained completely hidden, which could not have been easy. Were you afraid of being judged?”

  “I’m not sure that’s what I was afraid of, but I was definitely afraid. Being an actress was a dream I’d had since I saw The Wizard of Oz. I had always wanted to act, but I lived in a world where I knew dreams just didn’t come true. So I kept it to myself and only let those few people who cared enough to love me see the realistic dreams.”

  She moved in her seat, opened her mouth, and closed it before speaking again. “I had a drama teacher who was very supportive, and wanted to put me in touch with a talent scout. I was in a serious relationship at the time, with someone who loved me and cared for me in a way my parents never had. But I didn’t know how to express those dreams, so afraid they’d sound ridiculous, or I would fail. So when I saw an opportunity to leave to pursue acting, leave Kansas and the person who loved me, I did. Because I wanted to be someone else. Acting was the perfect place for that, and the more successful I became, the less I wanted to remember those negative parts of who I was. I worked very hard to keep it a secret, so I could be this better, happier, more polished and beautiful person than I felt like on the inside.”

  It shocked him to hear about her drama teacher and a talent scout. He’d never known. Had he been that caught up in himself and what he wanted to do for her that he hadn’t seen she was trying to do what she wanted? Had he really missed that?

  Dia made the appropriate compassionate noises. They talked about her movies, her image, how she’d wanted to forget her past so she’d kept it very separate, always doing roles that would make people feel happy, loved. Things Celia hadn’t had growing up as CeeCee.

  “Let’s talk about why you’ve kept it hidden for so long, why you’ve decided to come forward now.”

  Celia’s smile was pained, but she nodded. “My mother, a woman who covered up my father’s abuse, who tried to make me believe I was the cause for it, has gone to the press about something I did.”

  The camera tightened on Celia’s face, determined eyes, focused and blue. “A few years ago my father was on dialysis, and he was in desperate need of a kidney transplant. Both my parents asked me to donate, and I refused. When my father died, my mother demanded compensation to keep from going to the press about my refusal.”

  “In her interview with Bright Lights Magazine she calls you a murderer. Do you feel that’s accurate?”

  “No. I can’t…accept that label. After everything my father did to me when I was a child—a defenseless child—I couldn’t fathom giving up a part of myself to help save him. He didn’t deserve that from me. So no, I don’t believe I’m a murderer.”

  It was the first time he’d heard her say that and felt that she actually believed it. That she really believed and understood she’d done the right thing, and he couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen that uncertainty in her before. How relieved she’d seemed when she’d told him and he’d told her she’d, of course, done the right thing.

  Had she really believed otherwise?

  His heart twisted in his chest, a stabbing pain, because even though she’d told him all this, even though he thought he’d understood, it had taken her telling millions of strangers to really let it sink through. How important her career had been to her. How much this cost her. How she had to go through this alone, and how much of that was his fault, for not bending, for not thinking about her, them—only himself.

  …

  “Your mother also mentions that you were married, and the end of that marriage was ugly. Can you tell us more about that?”

  Celia looked at her lap and the camera zoomed in on her hands. Ryan stood as he recognized that ring on her pinkie. He’d slipped it on after prom on a different finger, but there was no mistaking it as the little gold band he’d given her ten years ago.

  “He…” She looked up, a small smile on her face. “We were high school sweethearts, and we got married. A few days after the ceremony we found out there’d been a glitch that invalidated it. That was my…sign, if you will, to leave and pursue my dreams.”

  “Was it an unhappy relationship?”

  “No. Not at all. I just… I was so afraid of losing this dream I’d just learned to think was possible, actually because of him and his support and his drive. So I left not because I was unhappy, but because I didn’t know how to go after what I wanted without leaving. I loved him. I’ll always love him, but at the time, I needed that dream to be more important than love. I didn’t know how to be me, or to be what I needed because for so long…I thought who I was only caused ugliness. Even when I started to understand that was a lie my mother told me to control me, it took a long while to realize all that lie had touched.”

  Ryan swallowed at the thought she’d always love him. He tried to swat the feeling away. There were a lot of different ways to love, to care for, to remember someone.

  But the words “always love” wouldn’t be swatted away.

  “Is he a part of your life now?”

  Celia kept her eyes on Dia, but she continued to twist the ring. “No,” she said, her mouth going tense. “Actually, I think we’ll both always be a part of each other, or maybe I hope we will. But in terms of actually being in each other’s lives, no, we’re not.”

  “Would you like to be?”

  Celia’s eyes darted off screen and there was a strange moment of silent tension. It was one that probably would have been edited out of any filmed telecast. But this was live, and the moment seemed unstoppable. “I… It’s a very difficult thing to ask someone to be a part of this.” Celia gestured to behind the cameras. “It’s a very…strange life. One not everyone can be comfortable in.”

  “So true. Let’s talk about where you go from here, Celia.”

  He could barely focus on her words about charities and hoping people understood what she’d done, because the ring he’d given her when he’d asked her to be his wife was right there on the screen. On her pinkie.

  Because the way she’d put the reason they weren’t together—a life not everyone can be comfortable in—made him feel like an idiot and a jerk, and weak. It wouldn’t be comfortable to try to mesh their lives, but this wasn’t about comfort, was it?

  Dia smiled at the camera, drawing the interview to a close, thanking Celia for her time. Then the screen went to commercial and it took Ryan seconds, maybe minutes, to realize he was still just standing there, breathing a little heavy.

  He couldn’t stop thinking she’d be alone after the interview. Okay, maybe that awful Aubrey person would be around, but even if she’d spilled her guts to the world, no one knew. No one really knew the smart, determined, funny woman she was. She’d always been.

  “You okay, slugger?” Nate asked.

  “She still has her two planes here, right?” Because screw w
hat she thought was right or what he thought was, they were going to figure this out. He’d sacrifice a little comfort for her. They’d find a way to not walk away from each other, because she was right about one thing. He would always love her. So they were going to find an answer, and not disappear from each other’s lives again.

  Vivvy grinned. “Yes.”

  Good. “I…have some calls to make.”

  “If you need help, let me know,” Vivvy offered.

  Ryan was about to say that he didn’t need any help, but he swallowed down the words. Maybe help was exactly what he needed to start accepting. “Thank you. Actually, I could use both of your help.”

  “Whatever you need.”

  Ryan took a deep breath. He’d take it. He’d take whatever he needed to make this right.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Celia slid into the back of the limo next to Aubrey. The sparkly gold dress she was wearing was like a lie. She felt neither sparkly nor gold. She felt exhausted and dull and worn out.

  But for all she’d revealed to the world in her interview, there was still a lot of pretending in her world. She had to go to parties, smile, schmooze, deflect, and make sure everyone knew she was still Celia Grant, the kind of woman who could play a romantic lead like nobody’s business.

  Different, darker roles had already been offered, but as long as the romantic comedies and fun capers were still coming in, too, she’d deal.

  It was a few days after the Dia Walker show and the fallout was…bearable. Her mother had done some interviews that tried to paint Celia as the bad guy. A couple of the tabloids were still running sensational stories about murder, but her lawyers were putting out those fires without too much trouble.

  The hardest part, though, wasn’t her mother. It wasn’t the press or the lies or the truths. It was what she’d always feared. Abuse organizations were reaching out to her asking for help, money, a spokeswoman.

  Celia’s gut cramped at that and she pressed her head to the window, the only sound in the car Aubrey’s fingers tapping against her phone.

  A better person might be happy at the chance to use her celebrity, her past to do some good, but all Celia could think was that she wasn’t up to the task. There were so many organizations, way more than the few she’d secretly donated to over the years. And they wanted so much more than money now. Here she was ten years removed from her abuse, just coming to terms with it, and they wanted her help? Her face? Her words and memories and healing?

  That hurt exactly as she’d known it would. There wasn’t enough of her to fix parents’ thinking they had the right to hurt their child. She couldn’t save anyone, and since she couldn’t help every single organization that needed it, she’d feel forever…less.

  Celia took a deep breath. If she wallowed in that feeling, she’d drown. So she just had to accept she couldn’t save the world, even with her secret known. She could help some with more than just money. She could offer her story and herself and hope it made some little spark of difference for someone. It would never be an easy thing, a comfortable thing, but it couldn’t break her as she’d once thought telling the truth would.

  Giving a few organizations her voice along with her money was something. She had to hold on to that something.

  “You okay?”

  Celia forced a smile at Aubrey. “Sure.”

  “You used to be a better liar.”

  “I’m tired.”

  “Just remember why we’re doing this, okay? And…well, I think things are looking up.” Aubrey offered a smile in return, but it was a weird one. It was almost as if Aubrey were…nervous.

  If Aubrey was nervous, Celia was downright scared. But her appearance at this swanky party was all a part of showing people she had nothing to be ashamed of. And that she was dealing just fine. Broken heart, uncertainty over her place in the world, aside. She was just fine.

  And since she wanted to believe that was true, she wouldn’t be scared.

  Aubrey fidgeted. Maybe she was tired of this whole thing, too, though Celia figured she’d always thrived on cleaning up messes. She was so good at it. “I don’t know why you’re nervous, but you don’t have to follow me around like a bodyguard, you know? I can go to this party on my own.” She didn’t always have to be handled.

  “Of course you can.”

  “So why did you insist on going with me? Are you hiding something from me?”

  Aubrey let out an irritated breath. “We have a stop to make before the party.”

  Celia’s stomach dropped. “What kind of stop? You’re not pushing me doing that print interview with Bright Lights, are you? I thought we agreed—”

  “It’s not an interview,” Aubrey interrupted. “Someone wanted to see you.”

  “See me?” Outside the tinted window, LA had disappeared, and they were pulling up to her private hangar. “Who wanted to see me?”

  “Just get out of the car before someone notices. Security knows you’re coming.”

  “But—” Celia looked out the tinted windows over the fancy private airfield. “Don’t blindside me. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “You needed a date to this party. So I found you one.”

  “Oh, well that’s clear as mud.”

  Aubrey crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, it wasn’t my idea. For the record, don’t get any ideas about skipping it once you see him. You’re going, and so is he. We need everyone to see you at this party.”

  “Aubrey, you’re not making any sense.”

  “Yeah, well you want sense, you go talk to him. This was not my idea.” She tapped her phone against her knee. “Just so you know, I didn’t help arrange this so you can go back to Kansas and be Mrs. Little House on the Prairie.”

  Celia tried to focus on Aubrey’s words instead of the hollow pit of shock in her stomach. “Ryan?”

  “A Podunk reality star wannabe from Kansas,” Aubrey muttered. “I mean, the whole high school boyfriend thing jibes with your image, and he is good-looking, but the reality show thing, really?”

  Celia pressed a hand to her stomach. Ryan was here? Here? She didn’t know how to process it. “Just because he’s here doesn’t mean…”

  “Oh, please. I know why he’s here and so do you. It starts with L and ends with gag me.”

  Celia laughed, pretty sure this limo ride was the first time she’d laughed since she’d left Harrington.

  “If you move to Kansas, I am so not following you.”

  Jumping the gun, her mind screamed. Still, she couldn’t resist the chance to screw with Aubrey a little bit. “Aw, Kansas will grow on you.”

  “Not on your life, sister. Been to the middle of nowhere, and I managed to escape. No way in hell I’m ever going back.” Then she gave Celia a little push. “Go. You’ve got half an hour, then you better be back in this limo ready to face a zillion questions.”

  Celia’s hand shook as she reached for the door. She didn’t even process Aubrey’s instructions because… Ryan was here. Here.

  She hurried to the entrance, then slowed, then hurried around back to the hangar.

  She stopped herself at the side entrance and took a deep breath. If he was here to tell her he loved her, if he wanted to work something out…was she sure, absolutely sure, that’s what she wanted? That it was possible? Surely Aubrey wouldn’t have brought her here if this was about blackmail or something mean? It had to mean something.

  It had to.

  And then Ryan stepped into view.

  Ryan. In a tux. Next to her Cub that he and Nate had fixed up for the show. The crisp white of his shirt contrasted against the tanned skin of his throat, the suit jacket skimming the lines of his side as if it had even been tailored specifically for him. He looked like his own version of rough-and-tumble Hollywood star.

  She was dreaming. The exhaustion had gotten to her and this was all a very elaborate, very real dream complete with the metallic smell of airplane hangar and the low rumble of Ryan’s voice.

  But she wa
s sure, so sure he was exactly what she wanted.

  “You look surprised, so I guess Aubrey can keep a secret.”

  Celia swallowed. She didn’t know how to erase the distance between them. This was all so… “You’re…here…in a tux.”

  “I was informed this was required attire for your party tonight. I even let Vivvy help me pick it out.”

  “You’re coming to the party?” Her voice cracked, because she wanted this too much for it to be real, to be possible. “You let someone help you make a decision?”

  “I’m coming to the party, and yes, I let Vivvy and Nate and Aubrey help me. To get here. To you.”

  “In a tux. You…you said they were pretend.”

  “They are, but I guess I came to the conclusion that pretending, for the right reasons, isn’t so bad. For you? It’s not bad at all.”

  “Ryan.”

  He must have heard the desperation in her voice, or seen the confusion on her face, or maybe, just maybe, he wanted to close the distance between them. One slow step and a time, he began to do just that.

  “I watched the interview.” Another step. Then slowly another.

  “O…kay.”

  “You were wearing the engagement ring…my ring. And you said you’d always love me. And I thought, maybe, if it’s what you wanted, we could work on making that a permanent thing. Because that’s what I want, but it has to be what you want, too.”

  Now he was standing in front of her, close enough to touch. She couldn’t get a full breath, but she managed a few words. “I do love you.” She touched his face. He was real, and he was here. For her. With her.

  “I know.” He smiled and took her hand. He took a deep breath, his green eyes meeting hers with a seriousness that took what little breath she had away. “I love you, too, and I want to be part of your life. Even if it means not always doing things my way, even if it means not being comfortable. If it means lying or pretending or whatever keeps us together and happy, I’ll do it. I’ll fit into your world if that’s what you want. I mean, I look pretty good in a tux, right?” He straightened the lapels of his jacket and looked…perfect.