“And if you tell her, you won’t be able to go back to being Remington again once the stalker and tabloids are under control,” she says slowly. “That’s your plan, isn’t it? You’re just going to wait this out and then go back to being Remington as if none of this has happened.”
“I can’t see another way,” I admit.
“Or you could take a chance on love for once. Actually connect with someone, rather than pushing them away.”
“It’s not about love,” I say. “Whether she knows it or not, she’s my best friend. I want her happy and safe, and the best way to do that is to let her go.”
She shakes her head. “You have to tell her, Chase. Or I will. It’s not right or healthy what you’re doing. She deserves to know the truth. And regardless, you can’t go back as if none of this has happened. You won’t be able to forget this all. Nothing will be the same.”
Fuck. I close my eyes and know that she’s right. I can’t go back to Remington. After being with Olivia in real life, anything else would be a pale approximation.
And once she knows I’ve been playing this double life, she’s going to hate me, with good reason.
It’s been wrong to lie to her for so long. I’ve been so caught up in being around her. So unhinged at being able to spend time with her, that I didn’t just deceive her, I deceived me. There’s only one way this can end. And that’s badly. It’s not rational. But then again, I haven’t been rational since she sent me that text and her photo, telling me how she felt. I’ve barely been able to breathe.
I don’t know what the hell to do about any of it. How can I go back to life pre-Olivia, pre-Typewriter Girl? I have to figure it out, though. Olivia will eventually return to her peaceful life. And I can’t follow her there and drag the tabloids and trolls into her safe world.
I will tell her, to hell with the consequences, I promise myself. But I need more time with her before she inevitably hates me. And I need more time to keep her safe.
“I’ll tell her,” I vow to Daisy. “But not just yet.”
“When, then?” Daisy says.
“When the threat to her life is gone. If she finds out now, she might be angry enough to leave, and she’s safer here with me than she would be on her own in San Francisco.” I look at Daisy with pleading eyes. “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to her.” My voice cracks with emotion. “Please.”
Daisy taps her long nails against the table. “Fine,” she says. “But as soon as there’s no more danger, she needs to know.”
“Agreed,” I say.
This is all coming to an end. At least I can build a few more memories and ensure she’s protected before she leaves for good.
CHAPTER 28
Olivia
There are many things I never imagined. I never imagined making out with Chase James. Or living in a mansion full of hot celebrities. I also never imagined that the first time I met Cassidy Reynolds, I’d be facedown, ass-up, almost naked, getting massaged by a very tall woman named Helga.
Life. It’s a constant surprise.
This is no luxury spa day. The massage is therapeutic because after all the running, roller-skating, and pole dancing, I can barely walk without tears. So, when Cassidy Reynolds saunters by, I’m lying on a massage table by the pool while Helga rubs my body all over until my aching muscles feel like jelly.
Helga gasps and pounds on my back a little too hard.
“Look! It is Cassidy Reynolds,” she squeals. I didn’t know a sound like that could come out of such a formidable body.
“What? Where?”
“There! Her legs! Her shoulders! Her perfect body alignment. I could give her a good massage.” she sighs.
I look up from the massage table and get a glimpse of what might be Cassidy Reynolds’s toned backside walking toward Chase’s bungalow. She’s wearing a white sundress and heels. The pleasure from my massage dissipates, and for the second time, I want to cry, this time not from muscle pain.
Helga pushes me back down, my face slamming into the little hole in the massage table. She enthusiastically goes to work on my other arm, rhapsodizing about the talented and beautiful Ms. Reynolds.
I shouldn’t feel so shitty. I already assumed Chase and Cassidy got back together. But I’ve ignored that inconvenient thought as best as I could because, for the last week, Chase and I have been hanging out more and more. We start the mornings with a run and eat breakfast together after we cool down. Then, he goes off to do whatever it is that movie stars do during the day, while I write and hang out with Daisy, and Emma when she’s on a break. But when he returns each night, whoever is around gets together to barbecue, have drinks, and hang out by the pool.