Chapter One

Mina

"He's watching you again!"

I knit my brows in concertation as I focus on the drink I am preparing but a rough tap on my shoulder sends me spilling whiskey on the counter. My eyes widen with alarm, reaching blindly for the napkins and patting the mess before our demon of a manager spots it and decides to dock our pay. I dispose of the napkins before turning to my best friend with a scowl.

"Sheila, what the heck!"

She ignores my narrowed eyes and grabs my shoulder, spinning me around so I am staring at the lounge where customers are gathered. "Do you see him?" she whispers.

"See who?" I ask, squinting my eyes at no one in particular.

"The guy seated by the door," she points out. "He's dressed in all black and has been watching you all week. He's wearing a black cap and sunglasses. You see him, right?"

I roll my eyes at her. For the past week, Sheila has been convinced that I have a stalker or something equally crazy. I work as cocktail a waitress and my best friend is a mixologist in this bar, so we receive our fair amounts of attention. In a sea of half-drunk men, we have creeps who come in here looking to hook up with the girls and weirdos who just come in to stare. The latter is more popular in this establishment. As long as they don't touch us, we don't bother with them.

"I don't have a stalker, Sheila," I assure her, gently nudging her away so I can get back to preparing the whiskey sour she was supposed to be teaching me how to make.

"I'm serious, Mina. I know we have creeps that come here to hit on you – us – but he is different. He sits in the same spot with his black cap and sunglasses. He always orders a cocktail but never actually drinks it and his eyes are always on you."

I smile, biting back the urge to point out that she is doing the exact thing she's accusing the man of. Even so, I humor her and look up, following her gaze to the man seated on the spot close to the exit. He is, in fact, dressed in all black with sunglasses that hide his eyes. The drink in front of him sits untouched and I squint my eyes, suddenly curious about him. There is little visible about the man other than his massive frame, but something about him feels… familiar.

Even with the sunglasses on, I can feel his gaze on me and it's almost like a caress. Perhaps I have little to no self-preservation like Sheila claims, but nothing about the man's attention feels threatening. It doesn't make my skin crawl like other men here do. In fact, it feels like a warm embrace.

He doesn't look away when I catch him staring. Maybe he is someone I have met before but surely calling him a stalker would be a stretch, right?

I shake my head as if to shake off the thought. Christ, Sheila's paranoia is rubbing off on me.

"Ignore him," I tell my friend, shaking my head at the insanity of it all.

My best friend leans on the counter and shifts her attention to me. "He's probably staring at you because you remind him of a certain actress."

"Sheila, stop!"

"What? Everyone says you look like a young Marilyn Monroe before she dyed her hair blonde, and I can't say they are wrong. The red hair and freckles do throw people off a bit, but you could be her twin, I swear it!"

I hold back a sigh at her words. I've heard this before. Being told I look like one of the prettiest stars in Hollywood used to make me smile when I was younger and full of hopes and dreams, but something changed when I moved to Los Angeles.

Truth be told, I have loved the actress ever since I was young. I loved watching her films and in Marilyn Monroe, I saw an older version of myself. A little girl from Texas and… I wanted to be an actress. My parents – who wanted me to go to catering school and work in their restaurant – chucked my dream of moving to Hollywood as that of an immature brain. I wanted to prove them wrong by moving to LA and making it as a big-time actress.

Well, that hasn't worked well for me.

I have been in Los Angeles for ten months. I have been to countless auditions, and sent my tapes to every job posting I could find, and… nothing. I am nowhere close to achieving the dream that I had when I left Texas.

Being constantly reminded that I resemble my idol doesn't bring me the same thrill it used to. I may carry a few of her features but so do a hundred other girls in this city. All of whom are competing for the same roles I am.

No, I am nowhere near my dream. All the acting I get to do is when I pretend that working as a cocktail waitress doesn't chip at my soul bit by bit every day. I question how long I will survive here before calling it quits and moving back to Texas.

No, I can't think like that. Not yet, at least.

"Let me just focus on this drink," I tell Sheila, turning back to preparing the whiskey sour but that is the moment my phone begins to buzz in the small pouch attached to my apron. I consider ignoring it, knowing all too well that I am not supposed to have my phone on my person during my shift, but I keep it off the chance that my agent reaches out.

"Aren't you going to take it?" Sheila nods at the buzzing sound. I nod at the spot where our manager is standing busy flirting with another waitress, and she simply shrugs off my worry. "Take it, I'll cover you."

"Are you sure–"

"Go, Mina!"

"Okay," I whisper, ducking behind the counter and into a crouch. I dig my phone out of my apron to take the call, my heart racing when I notice my agent's name flashing on the screen. I bring the phone to my ear before covering the speaker with my palm, keeping my voice low so I don't attract attention to my hiding spot. "Hello?"

"Mina!" My agent's voice breaks through the speaker, and she sounds chirpier than I've ever heard her which sends my heart blooming with hope. "I have great news."

"You do? Is it… please tell me it's an acting gig!"

Christ, I'm scared to be hopeful. It's been four months since Belinda became my agent and I haven't landed a single role. Not even as an extra in a short film. A part of me was terrified the agency would drop me but I guess that is not happening today.

Please let this be good news.

"I got you an acting gig!" Belinda exclaims I slap my mouth to hold back a shriek. "Before you get all excited, it's not for a movie role but it's a music video for a famous artist. This guy is the front man of a popular rock band, you might've heard of them. Anyway, he's been looking for an actress to feature in his music video, so I sent your audition tape and–"

"I got it?"

"You got it!" Belinda shrieks, sounding as excited as I feel. "They chose you. I know this is not the movie role you've been wanting but it's a start. This music video will give you popularity like nothing you've ever dreamt of before."

My heart is racing as she speaks. She's right about this not being the movie break I have been hoping for, but it's a break nonetheless.

"W-what do I need to do?" I whisper, a little too eager and afraid to miss this opportunity. I know someone who was late for a shoot once and they fired her on the spot. I can't afford to lose this.

"They want to meet you this afternoon at two and discuss the way forward. For starters, I suppose they'll make you sign an NDA. This guy is huge in the music industry, so they'll probably want to protect him. He has requested to interview you himself, so you'll get to talk to him but from what I've gathered, you are who they want in their video."

"Oh my God!" I cry out, perhaps a little loudly, before slapping my hand on my mouth. My manager would kill me if he caught me taking a phone call during my shift. Speaking of which… "Wait, did you say this afternoon?" My shift doesn't end until six. My manager would never let me leave early.

"Yes. I will text you the address and you need to be there by two. You can do that, right?"

I don't miss the warning in her tone. She's been working just as hard to get me an acting gig and missing out on this opportunity will not only be a disservice to myself but disrespectful to her. No, I cannot miss out on this for any reason.

"I'll be there," I respond, and she hums before hanging up.

I slowly tuck my phone back into my pouch before straightening up and sliding back to my spot, my eyes widening in shock when I find Sheila has already prepared all the cocktails on the list. Unlike me, she actually enjoys her work and sometimes watching her prepare the drinks is art itself.

"So, I'm guessing you are finally going to be on the big screen huh?" she grins at me, and I laugh, unable to contains my excitement.

"Well, not quite." My lips stretch into a smile I haven't felt in ages. "It's a role in a music video for a famous singer."

"Who is it?"

"I don't know yet," I whisper, realizing that I was too excited to ask for more details. "My agent said he's popular, so I'll let you know how it goes. I need to go ask for the afternoon off."

Sheila grabs my arm before I can leave, her perfectly trimmed brow arching. "Do you really think that geezer is going to give you an afternoon off? You know he hates you, right?"

My mouth falls open. "H-he hates me?" I mean, I know he has a scowl every time he sees me, but I thought that was just his face.

Sheila rolls her eyes at my words. "Yes, you na?ve little girl. He hates you because you outright reject him when he tries to get into your skirt. Remember how you threatened to report him when he tried to touch you. He has been looking for an excuse to fire you."

I blink at my best friend. "But you don't sleep with him either."

"I don't need to. All I have to do is flutter my baby blues eyes at him, show him a little cleavage and he leaves me alone. You on the other hand…" her voice trails over and she shakes her head at me in amusement. "Anyway, don't talk to him. Just sneak out the back and I'll cover your shift. If he asks about you, I'll just flutter my eyes at him and pop a button or two and he'll lose his train of thought."

"That's all it takes?" I ask, a little apprehensive.

She smiles, "Men are simple creatures, Mina. Just a smile to soothe their egos will have them eating out of your hand." She smiles at me, her beautiful blue eyes bright with mirth. "You owe me for this, when you become famous, you better invest in the cocktail bar I am planning to open when I've saved enough. Now leave before the old geezer comes over here and makes it hard for you to do so."

"Are you sure?"

"Do you want me to change my mind?"

I smile, blowing my best friend a kiss before sneaking out to the backroom. I strip off my apron and grab my coat before rushing out through the back entrance that opens up to an alley. I consider making a quick trip to my apartment for a change of clothes when my phone buzzes in my pocket. It's a text from my agent with the address which just happens to be on the opposite side of the city from where I live. Shit, it's already a quarter to one which leaves me a little over one hour to make it to the studio but with the LA traffic, I would be cutting it too close.

I take in my short-pleated skirt that brushes the spot above my knees and my light lace trim Cami top that is definitely not appropriate attire when you're trying to make a strong first impression, but I don't exactly have a choice. Dressing in sexy attire and feeding into the creeps' fantasies earns you all the wrong attention but great tips. I slide on my coat and tug it over my front, mourning the fact that it doesn't have buttons.

I don't have time to go home and change. This will have to do. With that thought, I speed walk away from the bar, hailing a taxi the second I spot one. I read out the address my agent sent me to the driver and then we're off.

The drive to the studio takes as long as I imagined it would and by the time I make it to the gates, it's almost two. My fingers are trembling as I take out my driver's license and they check the approved guest list for my name.

What if Belinda got it wrong?

Maybe the studio didn't actually mean me. Surely a famous singer wouldn't seek out some unknown actress, right? This has got to be a dream.

And yet, the dream continues when the security guard hands me a guest pass before letting me in. The studio complex sprawls out in front of me, a maze of buildings and signs. I stand rooted to the ground, awed by the magnificence of this place, and for a moment, I forget that I need to move.

I have seen this very studio a hundred times from a distance but never imagined I would be allowed in.

I'm here.

Deep breaths, Mina. Take slow, deep breaths.

Once my heart stops pounding in my ears; I ask someone wearing a production assistant badge for directions. I tell him where I need to go, and the man studies me for a second before he chuckles.

"So, you are the chick they picked for Alex's music video, huh?" he says, but his tone is not the reason I freeze. I barely pay attention to the way his eyes run over my outfit.

"Alex?" My head spins at the name but I shake my head, a little unsettled by the coincidence. This is Hollywood with a million celebrities with that very name, but it always takes me a minute to come to terms with that fact whenever someone says his name.

Shit, I need to get over myself. Not every Alex is… him.

"They didn't tell you, did they?" the man says, his eyes bright with a mischievous glint as if withholding a secret he can't wait to spill. "You are going to lose your mind when you meet Alex Adams."

I gasp, slapping my hand on my mouth and the man laughs at my reaction except well… I am shocked for an entirely different reason.

Oh, I'm surprised all right.

Not every Alex is my Alex, but this one just happens to be.

After close to eight years, I am finally going to reunite with the man who broke my heart.