Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

I should have known better than to look at my phone while I was pumping gas, because the first thing I see is a brand-new article about me, dredging up that old lie about me getting drunk and passing out in a hot tub.

It’s to be expected, though. Old articles and new gossip always surface when a new production is ramping up. So I suppose I should be flattered that the public is paying attention.

Although the idea that I would drink that much—or do drugs, which I do not do—really rubs me the wrong way. I should have challenged it back in the day, but Aaron thought that I should let it slide. I was coming off Bright Eyes, and it would do me good to lose my super clean-cut image.

I’d agreed. It seemed reasonable at the time. Now everyone just figures that goes with my party girl persona. But that’s not the way I party, and I should never have given in.

The only saving grace is that Simon doesn’t believe it. As far as I’m concerned, his opinion is the only one that matters.

I finish pumping the gas, and when I get back into the car, I’m smiling. Who cares about idiotic articles? I have Simon.

I have Simon.

Wild how fast the world can shift. Head-spinning, really. I imagine some folks don’t trust things that happen too fast, but I’ve never been one for slow builds. I burst onto the film and television scene practically overnight. I bought my house on a whim and love it even after a decade. I met Carolyn by craft services one day and decided she would be my bestie. She still would be if she were alive.

I’d read Spiraling once and knew I had to star in it. More, I’m certain it’s going to clean up in awards season.

And once I got over hating him for being an arrogant prick, I knew without any hesitation that Simon was the man for me.

Yeah, sometimes things don’t have to be overthought.

Sometimes you just know. Sometimes things just are.

I’m thinking about life and sex and all that Simon-y stuff as I pull up at Aaron’s place in the hills.

And, of course, as soon as I arrive, Simon falls out of my thoughts, and I’m back to being irritated about the damn article again.

“Don’t let it worry you,” Aaron says, leading me to the back porch. “We’ll deal with it. If you want us to, we’ll challenge it. The fact that you weren’t even at this party should make a big difference. We can get people who were there to testify to that. But I still don’t think it’s worth the trouble.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Thinking about it is just going to piss me off. And I don’t want to be in a pissy mood when we talk about the script. “But I want a drink.”

He laughs. “I’m not surprised.” He steps behind the outdoor bar and pulls open the wine fridge. “How about my famous wine cooler?”

“Perfect,” I say. He mixes red wine with sparkling fruit juice, and it’s like drinking heaven. “Did you want to work out here? Or are we going inside?”

“Hot tub okay? My back is killing me.”

I shrug. This may not be the most traditional working environment, but Aaron and I have known each other since I was practically in diapers. Well, okay, I was ten and he was nineteen. So sitting in a hot tub getting a script all damp as we flip pages in the steaming water is not only a familiar setting, but a comfortable one.

“There should be a suit that fits you in the pool house. Go ahead. I’m already wearing trunks.”

Sure enough, I find the pink two-piece I usually wear when I visit, and when I come back, he’s set a nice large plastic cup filled with yummy nectar on the side of the hot tub.

I climb in, then take the copy of the script he hands me, careful not to get it wet. “How extensive are these notes?”

“Not bad. We’ll be done in an hour. Maybe two.”

“Good. Because I’ve been having a lovely week off with Simon. And I would like to get back to that as soon as possible.”

He laughs. “Good. That first day at your house, I thought you might actually bite his head off. Now I guess there’s a different type of biting going on.”

“La lala, I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Since when?” he asks, and I make a face, then take a long sip of my cooler.

“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”

“That’s for sure,” he says. “You know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“I’m really glad to hear that.”

I frown, something in his voice making me uneasy. “Is there something going on? Nothing with Spiraling, is it?”

“No. It’s nothing, really. Just some personal shit. Makes me glad to have a friend like you.”

“Dating stuff?”

“Not exactly. Okay, maybe a bit.”

I take his hand.He’s not in the tub yet, just sitting on the side, with his feet in. “You need to get out there more. You used to date a lot. You stopped.”

“I guess my heart hasn’t been in it.” He picks up his wine and holds it out for a toast. I tap my glass against his and take a large swallow.

The only trouble with this drink is how easy it goes down. Fortunately, I know that Aaron keeps a car service on call, so if I get too tipsy, it’ll be easy to get home. Or I can always get my boyfriend to pick me up.

The thought makes me smile. Boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

Oh, sexy boyfriend.

I should have eaten more. Three big swallows and I’m already feeling loopy.

I take another sip as the hot tub starts to get warmer, then try to focus as Aaron goes through his notes, all of which I agree with, though I’m having a hard time focusing.

I close my eyes and lean back, feeling so incredibly relaxed. “This might have been a mistake,” I say.

“What?”

“Working in the hot tub with drinks. I could just fall asleep right here.”

“I’ll turn down the temperature,” he says, picking up his phone and going to the app that controls the pool. Instead of getting cooler, though, I feel the hot tub immediately start to get hotter.

“I think you hit the wrong button.”

“Damn,” he says, but nothing seems to change. I reach for my drink and finish it, then sigh. My eyes are starting to get very hard to hold open, and I’m feeling more dizzy than drunk. And heavy and exhausted.

“Aaron, I’m not feeling so good.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry.”

“Think I’m gonna get out.”

“Hold on,” he says, “let me go get you a towel.”

I start to protest, but I can’t seem to form the words. I feel very strange. And something is very, very wrong. Really wrong. So wrong. But I don’t know what it is that’s wrong…

My eyes are drooping, and that’s when I see it.

His fence.

The wrought iron that surrounds the property. There’s a monogram mixed in about every ten feet. It’s an open triangle crossed by a line at a slant with a slight curve at the end. The letter A. A is for Aaron.

I’ve seen that before.

Where have I seen that before?

I try to keep my eyes open so I can get a better look, but it’s just not possible. My eyes close, and I feel myself start to slip. I try to push myself up, knowing that if I fall off this step, my head will be under water. But I’m sliding, and I can’t seem to help myself.

The water is over my mouth, coming close to my nose. I want to cry out, but if I open my mouth, I’ll breathe it in. I try to hold on to the side, but my fingers aren’t working. And as the water starts to tickle my nose—as I try to force my feet to hold me steady and keep my head above the water—I realize where it is that I’ve seen that A before. But when I saw it, it was upside down. It was a V with a calligraphy line. V is for villain.

Oh, God.

The V in Carolyn’s diary. It wasn’t a V at all. It was an upside-down A.

Aaron was her mysterious boyfriend.

Aaron was the one who was there the night that she died.

Aaron saw me talking with the reporter at the con.

And now, Aaron is trying to kill me to protect his secret. Just like he killed Carolyn and her family when he thought that she’d betrayed him with her stepdad.

And as the water rises, sucking me under, the only thing I can think is that I’m going to die now. And Simon will never know just how desperately I was falling in love with him.