JC intended on laying low for a while, hoping to avoid the paparazzi. If they suspected Tom and Tess were in town, things would get crazy in a hurry and she didn’t want to see even one camera pointed her direction. Tess thoughtfully called ahead, stocking the fridge full of JC’s favorites, so she didn’t have to leave the house until she was ready.
In the weeks following, JC got into a routine of running, swimming and doing yoga. No amount of working out brought the much-needed comfort of a good night’s sleep. The same reoccurring nightmare of Luca’s black eyes filled with rage as he tried to choke the life out of her plagued JC nightly. She wondered if she’d ever sleep peacefully again.
She phoned her agent Dan, remembering their last conversation. She’d explained she had some personal issues to work out.
“I’ve been waiting for you to call. I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Relief resonated in his typically monotone voice. “I’m truly sorry about the whole incident with Tom.”
“What are you talking about?” JC asked. “What incident with Tom?”
“When you called a few months ago saying you were ready to go back to work, I lined up several jobs for you, and then you practically did a no-show, JC. I couldn’t reach you for a week and I thought you were flaking out on me. Tom heard through the grapevine I wanted to cut you loose—”
“Jesus, Dan. I wasn’t on my period or getting a boob job or running off with some guy. I have a great work ethic! I don’t use drugs or drink. I don’t even have an eating disorder!” JC protested vehemently. “I couldn’t work. I…I’d prefer not to go into detail, but I needed to recover. I’m the most responsible person you represent.”
“I’m sorry, JC, but you left me in a bind. I was simply venting to a friend of mine. I had no idea my conversation would get back to you or Tom. The man called and reamed me a new asshole. The last thing I need is Tommy Clemmins pissed at me. I’d have to shut my doors.”
JC softened. “I didn’t mean to put you in a bind.”
“Are you all right now?” Dan asked ruefully. “I should’ve known it was serious.”
“I’m fine.” As the short words slipped from her lips she wondered if she would ever know the definition of normal again. However, the idea of hiding behind closed doors, scared and afraid of living life, sparked a defiant rebelliousness deep in her spirit. “I’m ready to work, but I’d appreciate it if you don’t tell anyone I’m in town.”
JC didn’t need her old so-called friends calling up, putting on a fake mask, attempting to get the low down on her life. She’d never fall for that crap again. She loved Malibu, but if she decided to call it home, she’d be much more careful picking her friends.
“No problem. I’ll call you when I have something lined up. Get some rest.”
****
Rest was the last thing she needed. However, a good night’s sleep would be heavenly. She’d tried everything; hot tea, bubble bath, wine, whiskey, soothing music. She even slept with the window open. Nothing relaxed her mind. At eleven o’clock she climbed out of bed, slipped on her silky blue robe and trudged into the kitchen to make herself a cup of lavender tea.
JC stood in the dark and gazed out the wall of windows encompassing the back of the house. The full moon cast a glimmer of moonlight over the ocean, illuminating the pale gray walls inside. She traipsed into the living room, sipping her hot tea and watching steam rise above the heated pool.
She opened the sliding glass door, and grabbed the soft white fleece throw draped over the sofa. Taking measures not to spill, she carefully sank down onto the sofa, finishing her tea. The chill of the rich brown leather warmed as she snuggled into a ball, tucking a pillow under her head. Inhaling the salty ocean air calmed her, slowly releasing the tension from her tired limbs. Steadying her breathing to the distant sound of the ocean crashing against the rocky coastline below, JC drifted off to sleep.
As her nightmare began to replay, JC thrashed back and forth on the sofa accidentally kicking the driftwood coffee table. Jolting upright, covered in a film of perspiration, she rubbed her aching foot. The moon now tucked behind a thick layer of fog, blanketing the room in complete obscurity. She lumbered into the kitchen to see how long she’d slept. “Oh, man,” she grumbled, glancing at the clock reading twelve thirty.
Scrubbing her tired eyes, her hip slumped against the kitchen counter.
What would you do if you were in my shoes, Momma? JC wondered, staring out the window into the blackness. She chuckled to herself. “You’d probably run.”