MOVIE STAR Read online

  Contents

  Also by Pamela DuMond

  1. Before

  2. Fractured Fantasies

  3. Bright Lights

  4. Magic Touch

  5. Pretty Doll

  6. Shark Eyes

  7. A Thousand Tears

  8. Not a Regular Girl

  9. Lucky Me

  10. Messy

  11. Backyard Flower

  12. My Best Friend

  13. Crown of Thorns

  14. Killing Time

  15. Venice Beach Boardwalk

  16. Bless Your Heart

  17. Watching the Children

  18. Break a Leg

  19. 72 Hour Hold

  20. Broken

  21. Puzzle Pieces

  22. Lake Lodge

  23. Tornadoes

  24. Your Devoted Fan

  FREE: His Sexy Cinderella: A Crown Affair Prologue

  Books by Pamela DuMond

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  MOVIE STAR

  21st Century Courtesan: Book Two

  Pamela DuMond

  Pamela DuMond Media

  MOVIE STAR: 21st Century Courtesan: Book Two Copyright © 2019 Pamela DuMond ~ All rights reserved.

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  Please respect the author who worked so hard on this story. Do not upload this book to other sites or do anything else naughty, illegal, or immoral. They’re all bad for you legally and karmically.

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  The above book(s) is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

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  No parts of these books may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any other means, without written permission of the author, except in the use of brief quotations used in articles or reviews. You can contact the author at www.pameladumond.com .

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  EbookISBN-13: 978-1-941731-07-9

  Print ISBN-978-1-941731-07-9

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  Photo: IStock

  Cover by Glammypammy

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  Published by Pamela DuMond Media

  Also by Pamela DuMond

  ‘HOT’ ROMANCE

  21st CENTURY COURTESAN series

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  PLAYER #1

  MOVIE STAR #2

  BELOVED #3

  HUSBAND #4 - Coming soon

  THE CROWN AFFAIR series

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  His Sexy Cinderella - A Crown Affair Prologue

  The Prince’s Playbook #1

  His Majesty’s Measure #2

  The American Princess #3

  The Duchess’s Decision #4

  PLAYING DIRTY ROM-COM Stand Alones

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  The Client

  The Matchmaker

  The Bodyguard — Coming soon

  ‘SWEETER’ ROMANCE

  ROYALLY WED ROM-COM series

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  Part-time Princess #1 —Optioned for Film/TV. Licensed as a CHAPTERS Interactive Stories Game.

  Royally Wed #2

  Part-time Poser #3

  Royally Knocked Up #4

  PLAYING SWEETER ROM-COM Stand Alones

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  Ms. Match Meets a Millionaire

  The Story of You and Me

  MORTAL BELOVED TIME TRAVEL series

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  The Messenger #1

  The Assassin #2

  The Seeker #3

  The Believer #4: Jack & Clara — STAND ALONE

  COZY MYSTERIES

  ANNIE GRACELAND COZY MYSTERIES

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  Cupcakes, Lies, and Dead Guys #1

  Cupcakes, Sales, and Cocktails

  Cupcakes, Pies, and Hot Guys

  Cupcakes, Paws, and Bad Santa Claus

  Cupcakes, Diaries, and Rotten Inquiries

  Cupcakes, Bats, and Scaredy Cats

  Cupcakes, Bars, and Rock Stars

  Cupcakes, Spies, and Despicable Guys - Also available to play as a Chapters Interactive Stories Game .

  Cupcakes, Screams, and Drama Queens - Coming soon

  NON-FICTION

  Staying Young: Simple Techniques to Look and Feel Young

  About MOVIE STAR

  MOVIE STAR: Book Two

  Gorgeous movie star Jake Keller’s on track to win an Oscar. But Jake’s shutting down, going off grid, doing nothing to help promote his chances.

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  Evie travels to Hollywood to try and help discover what -- or who -- broke Jake. But dirty little secrets prefer to stay buried…

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  I’m a 21ST CENTURY COURTESAN.

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  Beautiful, broken men pay Ma Maison Agency ungodly sums of money to be with me because I’m empathic: I feel their emotions in my body. I track down the bitter belief that broke them and then I help them heal.

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  I’m down to my last four clients. One wants to play me. One wants to buy me. One wants to marry me. And one wants to murder me. Will I get out in time...

  PRAISE for 21ST CENTURY COURTESAN

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  “…breath-taking, beautiful, and brilliant. A must-read…” USA Today bestselling author Maggie Marr

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  “I am ADDICTED! If I could give this book more than five stars I would. I devoured it in less than 4 hours… I can't wait for the next installment.” Liz Vrchota

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  “…original, suspenseful, mysterious, sexy, and dramatic… a captivating read.” Angela Hayes

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  “…was completely enthralled and blown away by this book!” Vegas Daisy

  For the Survivors

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  Because the wounds aren’t always visible.

  “I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear.”

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  Martin Luther King, Jr.

  1

  Before

  BEFORE

  Blood pumps through my arteries, my muscles gear up to throw punches and dodge bullets while my brain tries to figure out if there’s really a problem. My body knows when someone wants to hurt me. It’s had a lot of practice.

  One Saturday afternoon in the 6th grade I hung out at my friend Emily’s house. The music was loud. Her sister was hosting a pizza party after a high school football game. A guy with bloodshot eyes stared at me from the far end of the kitchen, his hand caressing the watery drops beading on his soft drink can. Just looking at him made my stomach lurch about like the pizza I’d eaten was bad.

  I didn’t want to get sick at Emily’s house, so I went upstairs and grabbed my coat from her bed. When I turned to leave the guy with the bloodshot eyes was standing in the doorway breathing heavily and staring at me funny. I slammed the door in his face. I jammed the lock and sat on the bed, my heart rattling about in my chest like a ghost haunting a closet.

  He knocked and knocked. I squeezed my eyes shut and hugged my arms around my ribs because I knew no one would hear me over the music if I hollered for help.

  When the music finally quieted, I popped open the door and peered into the hallway: he was gone. I bolted down the stairs and didn’t stop running until I got home. A few months later that guy’s face was plastered across our local paper because he had hurt a different girl at a different party.

  “It’s him, Mom,” I said.

  “See what I told you about respecting your instincts?” Mom made stir fry, the frozen vegetables simmered in the pan. “I bet that girl didn’t do the smart girl thing.”

  “But w
hat if she did?” I asked. “What if that girl fought back and hollered but no one heard her scream over the music?” My stomach knows when a situation is dangerous.

  My bones know when someone dies. I was seven when Grandma Berlinger popped up in my dream shaking her owl-head baking spoon at me, fussing that she was taking a trip. “I’m out of here, munchkin,” she said. “I’m putting you in charge of taking care of your Mom.”

  I woke with a start, the covers still tucked around me and yet there was a coldness in my bones, a heaviness that hadn’t been there when I’d nodded off. Sure enough, Mom got the phone call the next morning that Grandma Berlinger had passed away in the middle of the night.

  Now it’s been seven long, heartbreaking days since we ran into the Wolfe brothers. A week since they bounced off our car, flew through the air like broken birds, and no one will tell me if they’re alive or dead.

  No one will answer my questions. No one will take me seriously because I’m just that poor girl whose mother had a psychotic split. I’m that ‘sorry child’ who crawled out of the car toward the brothers bleeding on the cold, hard, white snow. I’m the– ‘Shh, don’t say that loud enough for Evelyn Berlinger to hear’ that her mother is going to jail for this you know’ girl.

  I bet rumors are circulating about the Wolfe boys back at Beethoven Middle Grade school, but I’m not there to hear them. Mom’s been taken away, Ruby and I have been split up and sent to different foster homes. I’m staying in a different town with a perfectly nice woman in a house with other sad kids. But in spite of everything I know in my bones that Wyatt Wolfe is not dead.

  If only I had Bones on speed dial. I’d pay my entire monthly allowance to hear him pick up. ‘How may we help you?’ Bones would ask.

  ‘Just calling to find out if Wyatt Wolfe’s still alive?’ I’d pinch myself as a reminder to keep breathing, not hold my breath and pass out because I’m so dizzy from the anxiety wriggling under my skin.

  ‘He’s not only alive, Evie, but he’s doing great,’ Bones would say. ‘A few of us were broken in the accident but we’re all healing up now. Thanks for asking.’

  ‘Oh, good,’ I’d say, relief coursing through me like a sugary soda. ‘I’ve been wondering ’cause he and his brother Easton haven’t been back to school. And I need to tell them how incredibly sorry I am. I need them to forgive me.”

  ‘Give it time.’ Bones would say. “Forgiveness can take some time.’

  I pray for forgiveness every night.

  But now a month or so has passed since the accident and I don’t see the Wolfe boys, and there is no chance to say I’m sorry. There’s no forgiveness for Mom either because she’s being sentenced to six months in jail today and my heart twists like laundry fresh out of the drier threatening to choke me.

  After the hearing, a woman escorts me down a maze of hallways into a room where I get to see Mom before they take her off to wherever she’ll serve her sentence. “Evie,” Mom says, her arms out wide.

  “Oh, Mom.” I run into her arms, swallowing tears. I press my head against her chest and shudder. She hugs me tight.

  She pulls back and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “It’s going to be okay,” she says. “I did something stupid. I did something bad. This is the best way for me to pay for my sins. I’m not going to be gone that long and you’re going to be okay. You always are.”

  “I don’t know.” I worry my lower lip.

  “You’re going to be just fine because you’re my oldest child. You’re my rock.” She grips my forearm. It cuts like a knife. “You’ll be the strong sister for Ruby.”

  “Ruby’s not living with me, Mom.”

  “I know. You’re still my oldest girl. Promise me you’ll be strong for Ruby.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Come on. We’ll pray on it.” She crosses herself, then grabs my hand so hard. “Dear Jesus. Please help Evie stay strong while I’m in jail.”

  “Dear Jesus. Please help me stay strong while Mom’s in jail.”

  Mom squeezes her eyes shut. “Dear God, help Evie stay strong so I can heal and pay my debt.”

  Mom’s feelings boomerang inside me. I have to hold it together for her. “Please help me stay strong so Mom can heal and pay her debt.”

  “Help Evie stay strong so Ruby can grow up healthy,” she prays.

  I feel so small. I bow my head and repeat, “Please help me stay strong so Ruby can grow up healthy.”

  “And this I ask for in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit,” Mom says. “Amen.”

  “And this I ask for in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

  “You’re my good girl, Evelyn.” She opens her eyes, releases my hand, and kisses my cheek. “I love you. I’ll be back home with you and Ruby in no time.”

  “Okay.” I wiggle my fingers to get the blood back into them as the woman leads her away.

  Mom stops at the door and stares at me wistfully. “Count on it, Evie.”

  “I’m counting on it, Mom.”

  2

  Fractured Fantasies

  FRACTURED FANTASIES

  The first time I saw Jake Keller, Movie Star, I was thirteen-years-old. It was before the accident when we still lived with Mom’s boyfriend, Kyle Monroe.

  Mom took Ruby and me to one of Jake’s movies on the spur of the moment. I shoved popcorn in my mouth and watched him on the big screen, mesmerized.

  Jake’s blonde hair. The determined look on his face when he stared down at that girl as the rain pelted them. But most of all, it was his eyes. Kind and gentle and sexy. It was all I could do not to yell at the screen, ‘Kiss that girl who is staring up at you in the rain. Please kiss her now before I explode!’

  “He needs to kiss her,” Mom said.

  Ruby leaned over me and tapped Mom on her knee. “Can I go to the bathroom?”

  “You just went,” Mom said.

  And when Jake finally put his hands on that girl’s face, when he finally pulled her to him and gazed into her eyes. When he finally kissed her -- Mom and I both sighed, looked at each other, and burst out giggling.

  Ruby jiggled her foot on the floor. “Can I go now?”

  “Yes,” Mom said.

  Jake Keller is that kind of actor. His characters transcend time and space, make all the hair on the back of your neck stand up like soldiers on parade. Now he’s one of the biggest movie stars in the world. Maybe it’s nostalgia that makes me want to find out what damaged him. Maybe it’s a need to return to a more innocent time, before the accident, that makes me want to save him. I certainly wouldn’t be the first fool to be motivated by nostalgia.

  I’m flying from Chicago to L.A. tomorrow to help Jake Keller heal. I’ll wear expensive, designer clothes. I’ll accompany him to celebrity parties. We’ll be photographed sharing intimate dinners at elegant restaurants and impossibly trendy cafes. Undoubtedly, I’ll show up in a handful of gossip sites as ‘Jake Keller Out and About with ‘Unnamed Twenty-something Brunette.’

  Healing a damaged movie star might look shiny and glamorous but trust me it’s not. I’ll keep long hours and get spotty sleep. I’ll dig into his psyche, find his dirty secrets, willingly sacrifice my grip on sanity. I’ll do it to track down the core belief that’s murdering his mojo. I’ll do it to help him heal and in the process I’ll make a fortune.

  Healing broken men is filthy, grueling work, which is why it’s ironic that on the outside I look immaculate. I look fucking flawless. My body’s toned from hours of working out. My hair is glossy. My skin glows from the sugar scrub that makes it baby soft to a man’s touch. I’m a shiny fucking penny.

  But scratch the surface and you’ll sink through my very thin skin and light on the jangled, tangled mess of my nerves because some predator invaded my home tonight and left a jewelry box filled with a Bible verse and locks of cut hair on my bed.

  Instead of hitting the sack early and getting a good night’s sleep before I fly to L.A., I huddle outsi
de my red brick, 12-story condo building and chew on what several hours ago was a perfectly manicured fingernail. My 70-something neighbor, Hazel O’Rourke and her scrappy dog, Ruca keep me company.