Chapter 3

3

A lyssa’s truck crunched over the snow-covered driveway leading to the farmhouse. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel as memories of last night’s confrontation flooded back. The image of Denise Adams, backlit by the fireplace, brandishing that poker like some kind of weapon, brought a mix of disbelief and frustration.

Alyssa parked her truck beside the two cars and stepped out into the crisp morning air. One was Denise Adams’s rental car. Alyssa had spotted it yesterday, thinking it was odd that someone was parked there, but she’d assumed it was a hunter. Wayne had a few friends who regularly parked here and went out for the day in the neighboring woods. Today, not only was the rental car there but a sleek silver BMW too. Alyssa wondered who that was.

She pulled her coat tighter around her, her breath visible in the cold as she got out of her truck. As she walked up to the farmhouse, she couldn’t help but notice how out of place the expensive BMW looked in front of the old, weathered house.

“The Denise Adams.” Alyssa shook her head, running her fingers through her hair. She’d watched plenty of Denise’s movies over the years - that noir thriller where she played a detective, the rom-com about the coffee shop owner, even that period piece where she’d earned her Oscar nomination. But face-to-face, the actress had been something else entirely. Cold. Defensive.

The fact that Alyssa hadn’t dissolved into a starstruck puddle surprised her. Maybe it was the shock of having a fireplace poker aimed at her chest. Or maybe it was the way Denise had looked at her - like she was nothing more than a nuisance to be dealt with.

“Some people really live up to their reputations,” Alyssa muttered as her boots crunched against the snow. She wasn’t one to follow celebrity news, but over the years she’d heard enough to know that Denise Adams had a reputation for being difficult on set. Demanding. A perfectionist who expected everyone else to bend to her will.

Last night had proven every tabloid story true. The dismissive tone, the barely concealed disdain, the way she’d just decided to ignore her father’s wishes… It painted a clear picture of exactly who Denise Adams really was beneath the glamorous Hollywood facade.

Alyssa’s hand hovered over the weathered wood of the farmhouse door, poised to knock. Before her knuckles could make contact, the door swung open. A man in a crisp suit stepped out, followed closely by Denise. The actress’s hand rested lightly on his arm as they walked towards the silver BMW.

“I’ll have the paperwork drawn up by this afternoon,” the man said, his voice carrying across the porch.

Denise nodded, a tight smile on her lips. “Perfect. The sooner we can get this all sorted, the better.”

Alyssa’s heart sank as realization dawned. A realtor. Denise was already trying to sell the farmhouse. The farmhouse that, according to Wayne’s will, belonged to Alyssa.

She stepped forward, boots thumping against the porch steps. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Denise turned, her blue eyes widening slightly before narrowing. “Alyssa. I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Clearly.” Alyssa crossed her arms, her gaze flicking between Denise and the realtor. “Considering you’re trying to sell my house.”

The realtor glanced between them, his brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, there seems to be some confusion. Ms. Adams hired me to assess the property for sale.”

“The property that was left to me in Wayne’s will,” Alyssa said, her voice tight.

Denise stepped forward, her chin lifted. “About that. I’ve decided to contest the will.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m very serious.” Denise’s tone was ice cold. “And when I’m successful, which I will be, everything will already be in place to sell quickly. The farmhouse, the tree farm, all of it.”

Alyssa’s hands curled into fists at her sides. She could feel her nails digging into her palms, the pain a sharp contrast to the numbness spreading through her chest.

“You have no right,” she said, her voice shaking slightly. “Wayne wanted me to have the farmhouse. He wanted us to run the tree farm together.”

Denise scoffed. “Please. My father was clearly not in his right mind when he made that will. And I have no intention of running a Christmas tree farm in the middle of nowhere.”

Alyssa stared after Denise, her mind reeling. What was she thinking? Contesting the will, trying to sell the farmhouse out from under her? What planet was Denise Adams living on?

The realtor shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat. “Perhaps it’s best if I hold off until the ownership of the property is clearly established,” he said, taking a step back. “Ms. Adams, if you could provide proof of your claim…”

Denise waved a dismissive hand. “Of course. I’ll have my lawyer send over the necessary documents.”

Alyssa watched, dumbfounded, as the realtor nodded and hurried to his car. She turned back to Denise, who was turning towards the farmhouse door, clearly intent on ignoring Alyssa’s presence.

Something snapped inside her. Before she could think better of it, Alyssa reached out and grabbed Denise’s arm, halting her in her tracks.

Denise whirled around, her eyes flashing with anger as they flickered down to her hand. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Alyssa swallowed hard, suddenly realizing that she had just laid hands on one of the most famous actresses in the world. But she couldn’t back down now. Not with so much at stake.

“We need to talk,” she said, her voice firm despite the way her heart pounded in her chest.

Denise scoffed, shrugging her arm free from Alyssa’s grip. “We have nothing to talk about.”

She turned on her heel ready to march into the farmhouse, leaving Alyssa standing on the porch. For a moment, Alyssa considered letting her go, letting her have her way. It would be easier, wouldn’t it? To just walk away and let Denise Adams do what she wanted, like everyone else seemed to?

But then she thought of Wayne. Of the countless hours they’d spent together on this farm, tending to the trees, planning for the future. He had trusted her with this place, with his legacy. She couldn’t let him down.

Alyssa threw her hand up, catching the door before it could slam shut.

The actress whirled around, her eyes narrowed. “Did you not hear me? I said we have nothing to talk about.”

Alyssa took a deep breath, trying to remain calm despite the anger simmering just beneath the surface. “Please. Your father’s will was very clear. He wanted us to run the tree farm together. He put a lot of thought into this decision.”

Denise scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. “Please. He was clearly not in his right mind.”

Alyssa opened her mouth to argue, but Denise’s expression suddenly changed. It was as if a light bulb had gone off in her head. Her gaze raked over Alyssa, taking in her gray winter coat that hung open over her fitted navy sweater, her worn jeans, and her work boots. Alyssa felt a sudden wave of self-consciousness under the scrutiny.

“Were you with him?” Denise asked, her voice low and accusing. “Were you together?”

Alyssa blinked, not quite comprehending. “What?”

Denise took a step closer, looking her up and down again. “I know there’s quite the age gap, but that never stopped anybody.”

Realization dawned, and Alyssa felt physically sick. The implication was clear in Denise’s tone, in the way she looked at her with a mix of disgust and suspicion.

“What? No!” Alyssa’s voice came out louder than she intended. “How could you even think that? Wayne was my boss, my friend. Nothing more.”

Denise studied her for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Alyssa’s heart pounded in her chest as she met the actress’s gaze, refusing to back down.

“You expect me to believe that my father just decided to give half his legacy to some random employee?” Denise’s voice dripped with disdain.

“I worked beside him for thirteen years.” Alyssa’s hands trembled. “I’m not just some random employee. As the years went by, we became close.”

“Oh, I’m sure you did.” Denise’s lips curled into a cold smile. “Spent lots of time with him, didn’t you? Getting close, making him trust you. What did you do, wait until he was vulnerable and then start suggesting changes to his will?”

The accusation hit Alyssa like a physical blow. Her chest tightened as memories of Wayne flooded her mind - teaching her about proper pruning techniques, sharing hot chocolate on cold winter mornings, celebrating successful seasons.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Alyssa’s voice cracked.

“Right.” Denise crossed her arms. “And I suppose all those private conversations, all that time alone together-“

“I’m gay!” The words burst from Alyssa’s lips before she could stop them. She couldn’t take listening to anymore of it. “I’m gay, Denise. Your father knew that. He was one of the first people I came out to.”

Denise’s mouth dropped open slightly, her perfect composure cracking for just a moment.

“So no, I wasn’t trying to seduce your father or manipulate him or whatever twisted scenario you’ve conjured up in your mind.” Alyssa’s chest heaved as she fought to keep her voice steady. “He was my boss, my friend, and that’s it.”