Hollywood Princess (Hollywood Royalty 2)

“Kellie, you know I love you,” he says calmly, “and you know that the only thing I care about is keeping you safe.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I tell him and roll my eyes.

“I promise you that, at the end of the ninety days, you can go away to Montana for six months, and I won’t bother you.”

“You promise?” I ask him, then look at Cori. “Make a contract and send it to Tommy. Six months off, no exceptions.” I hear his laughter in my ear.

“Okay, I’m at the gym. Go do what you need to do, and I’ll call you tomorrow.” He disconnects his phone, and I look over at Cori.

“Don’t look at me like that.” I point at her while she closes her laptop.

“I’m not looking at you any way.” She avoids my eyes and then looks up at me. “But I will say this. He’s right.”

I throw my head back and groan. “Oh my God.”

“No, Kellie,” she says seriously, and I look at her, “this is not like the stalkers online who send you messages, and we block them or have them deleted. This one sent flowers to your house, Kellie. To your front door. It’s a whole different ballgame.”

“I’ve gotten them before,” I point out to her.

“Yeah, and how serious do you think it was that even Tommy is worried about it now?” I sit up, and she doesn’t stop talking. “I promise that I will make sure it’s as smooth sailing as it can be.” She looks down, putting her papers in order. “But you have to promise that no matter how annoyed you are with him, or no matter what he says, when it’s time, you listen to him and don’t fight him.”

I look at her, and I can see the worry in her eyes. “Fine,” I say. Leaning into her, I hug her around her waist from the side and put my head on her shoulder, and she lays her head on mine. “I will try to be on my best behavior,” I whisper to her, and she silently laughs. “But he starts it.”

“You like him,” she says, and I don’t answer. “And you have never had someone who didn’t like you back.”

“I’m not in high school, Cori,” I tell her. “I don’t care if he likes me or not. All he has to do is keep me safe, right?”

“Yes.” She puts her hand on mine at her side. “And try not to drive him nuts in the meantime.”

“I hate that you know me better than I know myself,” I tell her, laughing and letting her go. “What is the plan tomorrow?’ I ask her while she packs her bag.

“You have your workout at nine,” she tells me, “then you have rehearsal from twelve to eight.”

“I’m going to die,” I tell her and walk with her toward the garage door. “My body hurts, and it’s not fun.”

“I can only imagine.” She opens the door, walking to the white Range Rover that I bought her and climbing in. “I’m going to set the alarm when I leave.”

“Fine.” I nod and watch her back out of the garage, closing the door once the gates close. I walk back into my house, spinning to make sure everything is locked up. The alarm pad beeps, so I know she’s armed it. Walking up the steps, I go straight to my bed. Throwing the covers over, I get in, my body sinking into bed while I turn on the television and flip through the channels. I place one of the six pillows sideways, my eyes closing ever so slowly in the dark room. When my eyes slowly open the next day, the sun is just starting to peek out. I roll myself out of bed, heading straight to the coffee machine.

Turning off the alarm, I make my way outside to the covered lanai with a nice warm cup of coffee in my hand. Passing the sectional couch that faces a television and the fireplace, I walk around the outdoor kitchen. My feet go from the cold tiles to the dewy grass as I near the end of my property that faces the valley. Crawling onto one of the big round outdoor chairs that fit at least four people, I place my coffee on the table beside the chair and then get up, going over to the chest to grab a velour blanket. With my blanket covering me and my coffee in my hand, I watch the houses in the distance come alive. I see some of the lights turn on and wonder if it’s a mother waking her children or if it’s the dad getting ready for work. Normal lives. Don’t get me wrong; there isn’t a day that goes by when I’m not grateful for the life that I have, but I’m a woman, and you always will have the what-if or the where would I be. This right here, this moment of peace and quiet, is a me moment. I don’t get them often, but when I do, it just makes the day that much better.