6.Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Hank

“Hope, your baby is amazing.” And I mean that, even if I’m halfway to an anxiety attack right now. My smile, as much of it as I can see in the little square of my face on June’s phone, looks strained, though I don’t think Hope has noticed.

My used-to-be neighbor is too focused on her two-month-old daughter to pay attention to me.

June puts a steadying hand on my shoulder. She just about had a heart attack when I showed up at her hardware store and asked to borrow her phone, but I appreciate her support. “How are the kids doing with having a new baby around the house?” she asks, leaning closer to me to be in the frame of the video chat.

Hope looks up, a bit of surprise in her expression. “The kids? Wait, what time is it? I think I’m supposed to be picking them up from school soon.”

Before either of us can say anything, her husband appears, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her cheek. “I’ll get the kids,” Chad says gently. “You’ve literally got your hands full. Hank? Is that you? ”

I know he can see the hardware store in the background and is probably wondering why I’ve ventured outside of my property limits. Technically, we’re only neighbors when he brings his family to Laketown for a vacation, but the guy knows me better than most. He knows this is out of character for me.

I try another one of those ‘definitely doesn’t look real’ smiles. “Trying to get out of my comfort zone,” I say, my voice cracking. Nice .

Chad raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

Hope smacks him. “Be nice, old man. Not everyone is a homebody like you.”

“Hank is.”

“I’m…” I swallow when the words stick. “I’m trying not to be.” Heaven knows why.

I got Gabrielle out of her choking situation, using a broken cord like June suggested, but I’ve been thoroughly blocked for two days. Mariah showed up at my house yesterday—I ignored her—and my email is so full since I unplugged my phone that I’m afraid to open it to see what’s waiting for me in my inbox. The house was getting too quiet, and the second bedroom was looming in a way it never has before, so I grabbed my keys before I could overthink things and here I am.

Trying to breathe like a normal human doing normal human things like going into town to talk to a friend. Or three.

Honestly, I’m glad Chad is around. If anyone knows how hard it is to stray beyond the comfort zone, he does. He went from a long-term relationship that ended terribly to marrying a woman more than a decade younger than him in the space of a few months, inheriting her niece and nephew in the process.

“Speaking of comfort zones,” Hope says, “what’s all this about you dating my brother-in-law’s ex-girlfriend?”

I blink. Either that new mommy brain is failing her, or I missed something. “Uh, what? ”

Chad rolls his eyes. “Bonnie and my brother Houston used to be a thing. Briefly. Were those photos artificially created or something?”

“No, they’re real,” June replies. “Hank visited the movie set the other day.” I can’t decide if she’s trying to be helpful or making sure I don’t lie about the whole situation.

“It was a contractual thing,” I mutter. “We don’t have to talk about me. I want to know about Link and Zelda.”

“The kids are still genius troublemakers,” Chad says, narrowing his eyes at me. He used to be a private detective before he took on full-time parenting, and I’m going to guess he hasn’t lost his investigative touch. He knows there’s more to this. “So wait, are you actually dating Bonnie Aiken?”

“Aww, I wanted you to date June!” Hope whines.

June and I glance at each other, both of us grimacing.

“June is awesome,” I say at the same time she says, “Hank is great.”

“But?” Hope prompts.

Is she expecting us to start listing each other’s flaws or something? June’s my best friend; I’m not about to do that.

June, on the other hand… “But if I were to get back into the dating game, I’d need a man.”

“Hey,” I complain.

She shrugs. “Like I said, you’re great, but you’re not exactly Mr. Muscles, are you?”

Never have been, never will be. “And no,” I say to the phone, “I’m not dating Bonnie. I’ve barely had one conversation with her.”

“Excuse me? Mr. McAllister?”

June and I both turn to the door, which opened without us noticing, and June’s phone slips from my fingers when I realize it’s Bonnie Aiken standing there, flanked by one of the burliest men I’ve ever seen. The kind that would be June’s type, were she to give up on her self-imposed dating ban .

Bonnie bites her lip, glancing around the little shop before turning her focus back to me. “Sorry to just show up like this, but Katie from makeup heard from Calvin in catering that someone said one of the extras said that their mom heard that you were here at the hardware store.”

I open my mouth to reply, but my mind gets tripped up on what she just said. “What?”

Bonnie shrugs, turning pink. “Someone in town saw you, and it eventually reached me. I was hoping we could talk.”

June bends down and picks up her phone, gingerly making her way to the door behind Bonnie. “I’ll just take my lunch break now. Hank, lock the door when you leave?”

I nod once, though I know this is not a conversation I want to have.

Bonnie waits until the door shuts behind June before she comes over to the counter that separates us. Though I’m glad for the barrier, it does sort of make this all feel more awkward. Especially because the big guy stands by the door, looking menacing.

“I’m assuming you saw the article on Hot Scoop ?” Bonnie asks.

I nod.

“Sorry you got dragged into that. You seem like a fairly private person, and you’re probably not used to that kind of stuff.”

Another nod. It’s about all I can manage right now because the longer I look at her, the more I realize she’s in costume. I may be talking to Bonnie, but she looks like Gabrielle. She looks like Shelby . Well, Shelby with perfect hair and a thinner face. And three inches taller. And her eyes are too blue. And—

And I need to stop comparing her to Shelby if I want to be able to speak like a functional adult. They’re clearly not perfect reflections of each other, but the similarities still make this conversation difficult .

I tuck my hands into my back pockets, focusing on the stained wood on the counter between us instead of her. “It isn’t your fault that those photos were taken,” I manage to say.

“But it is my fault that I’m here to ask for a teensy little favor.”

My eyes jump to hers again, my heart already racing. She’s not really going to ask me what I think she’s going to ask me. Is she?

Bonnie glances at the door, turning a bright red. “That wasn’t your girlfriend, was it?”

She’s going to ask. “No,” I say, even though a lie would probably save me from the impending favor.

Her hands stretch out over the counter, fingernails painted electric blue. “I don’t have a lot of time—we’re filming a scene on the other end of Main Street in a minute, but I wanted to see if you might be willing to be my boyfriend.”

I drop onto the stool behind me but miss. Instead of sitting so I can process what she just said, I crash to the floor. Bonnie yelps, but I’m back on my feet before she makes it around the counter to help me up. That doesn’t stop her from grabbing my hand, which paralyzes me.

Her eyes go wide. “Oh! Sorry, do you not like being touched?” But she doesn’t pull her hand away.

Correction: she tries to pull away, but for some reason I’m holding on tight.

I blink, matching her confused expression with one of my own. I don’t have anything against being touched, and I’m not sure why she thinks I might. But that’s not what has me baffled right now. “You want to date me?”

Her face blossoms with color. “Not for real! Of course not really. That would be presumptive of me. I just… Okay, so, my public image hasn’t been stellar lately. Not that I’ve done anything wrong, which I guess is part of the problem, but people have gotten bored so I’m not all that popular. Not that being liked is important! Okay, yeah, it is in my line of wo rk. Being popular is super important in the film industry because if the public likes you, studios like you, and you get better roles and things. Not that I’m complaining about getting to play Gabrielle! This movie is a dream! But I want the movie to do well, so I want people to be interested in me, and right now all of their interest is in you. With me. Like, the world wants me to be with you for some reason.”

Her eyes go wide as she realizes what she said. “For lots of reasons! You’re obviously super cute in an adorably nerdy way and the fact that you’re the author and I’m playing the lead is like internet dynamite, you know? So my publicist thought—I thought—maybe if we pretended to be in a relationship for a while, it would be good for us both.”

She finally closes her mouth, biting the inside of her lips as she waits for me to say something.

I’m still processing all of that, but I got the gist. Swallowing, I slowly let go of her fingers and stuff my hands into my pockets again. “You want to trick the world into thinking we’re a couple so you can boost public opinion.”

Bonnie nods, looking too hopeful for my liking. “I know it doesn’t sound great, but it will ensure the movie does well. That will get you more money, right?”

I shake my head. I don’t actually care about getting more money. I could retire tomorrow and be good for the rest of my life, though I would go insane in a year or two without something to keep me busy. “The studio bought the film rights from my publisher,” I mutter. “Kind of a flat rate deal for me, so…”

She deflates, biting just her bottom lip this time. It makes her look young, like a kid who is realizing she might be in trouble. How old is she, anyway? She has the kind of face that makes her look timeless, like she’ll always be a Hollywood knockout even when she’s old and gray.

“A relationship wouldn’t benefit you at all, would it? ”

Nope. Probably the opposite. I barely manage my anxiety as it is, and a relationship with Bonnie Aiken, fake or otherwise, would force me into the public sphere. Exactly where I’m too scared to go. I couldn’t even come to a barely frequented hardware store to see my best friend without my chest getting tight.

Bonnie sighs. “Sorry, Mr. McAllister. I shouldn’t have even asked. I’m sure Frosted Peaks will do just fine because the story is amazing. Sorry to bother you! Eli, we can go.”

To my surprise, she actually leaves, followed by the big guy. I expected her to put up a fight. Have a whole bunch of reasons why I should do it. Offer me a lump of cash or a vacation home in Hawaii or something I don’t need.

I didn’t even tell her no…

But it’s not like I can tell her yes. Keeping up a friendship is a task, and I haven’t even held a woman’s hand in years. A relationship, however fake, would require more than that, and there is no way I would be able to mimic chemistry with someone so similar to Shelby.

“Why are you talking yourself out of something that is a non-issue?” I ask out loud, running my hand through my hair. Bonnie already left and dropped the idea because she could tell I wasn’t going to agree.

I just need to go back home and get to writing so I can meet my deadline.

There must be something in the air because when I step outside the store and lock the door, I don’t head straight for my car. On the rare occasions I come into town, I always take care of whatever needs doing and do everything I can to avoid lingering. Laketown is small enough that everyone knows who I am and why I am, and no one passes up an opportunity to talk to the town hermit if I make an appearance.

It’s a nightmare, and the longer I stand here, the higher my chances of being cornered .

I glance left, where the road is blocked off so the film crew can do their thing. I got the same form letter that everyone else got, offering me a chance to be an extra in the movie, which means there will be Laketownians beyond the big trailer blocking my view of the filming. I’d guess people in town would also show up to watch, even if they’re not playing an extra.

Another great reason to hurry home.

But when am I going to get a chance to see Bonnie in action? They wouldn’t have cast her if they didn’t think she’s a good actor, and I’ve watched one or two of her Hallmark-like romances since learning she got the part. She can play make-believe with the best of them. But can she be Gabrielle? It’s more than just looking the part, and my heroine has a lot of deep and heavy baggage that drives her motivations.

Bonnie is a bubbly and spunky person, not exactly the personality type I would pair with my no-nonsense detective. What if she comes across as disingenuous and ruins the whole movie?

I tell myself that I’m doing myself a professional favor as I turn and head for the set. Not that I’m curious about the filming, even if that’s the real truth. My steps get heavier the closer I get, but I force myself to keep moving so I can tell Mariah that I’m doing my duty as the author. Maybe she’ll stop heckling me to show up to things. Maybe I’ll even try to get a picture taken with Bonnie so I can at least help a little. A relationship is out of the question, but I would feel guilty if I didn’t do something to help her after she asked so nicely.

I mean, technically her asking nicely was just a lot of rambling, but it was endearing in a nerve-wracking kind of way.

“Hank!” June is kind enough to whisper-shout my name when she sees me, rather than drawing unnecessary attention my way. She waves me over to where she’s sitting on the back of one of the Main Street benches. A few people from town are loitering nearby, but they’re all pretty focused on the scene that is apparently happening in the middle of the street.

June bumps her shoulder into mine when I sit next to her. “This is a fun surprise, seeing you out here.”

“I won’t make a habit of it.” I frown as I try to decipher what’s happening in front of me.

Bonnie is sitting in the street in front of a black SUV, though she’s listening intently to the director, Beckett, as he talks with wild gesticulations. Her costar, Jonah James, is studying what I would guess is the script as he leans against the driver side door of the car.

“Wait,” I say when it clicks. “This is the meet-cute?”

June snickers. “I think it’s so funny when you use book terms. It’s not exactly cute when Gabrielle first meets Logan, is it?”

“No, I know, but meet-awkward isn’t a term.” This is weird, seeing a scene from my book set up like this, and I tense when the crew starts moving, the director going to his chair and Jonah handing off his script and climbing into the car.

“Quiet on set!” someone shouts, and then they start going through all the checks to begin rolling.

“Action!” Beckett shouts when everything is good.

Apparently Gabrielle has already been hit, because Bonnie is still on the ground, and Jonah stumbles out of the SUV in a panic, rushing to her side.

“Whoa, are you okay?” he asks, dropping next to her and grabbing her arm. “You came out of nowhere.”

Bonnie rolls her eyes and blinks up at Jonah. “I’m fine. I tripped. Bad timing, I guess.”

“You tripped into the street?”

She shrugs. “Clumsy?”

Jonah laughs, his grin too wide. “I can’t be mad about that. I’m Logan.” He holds out his hand, all charm .

Bonnie hesitates before taking it and letting him help her to her feet. “Gabby. Thanks for braking, by the way. That could have been a whole lot worse.”

“What can I say? I’ve got good reflexes. Can I buy you a coffee?”

“I’d like that. You can let go of my hand now.”

Jonah somehow grins wider. “But I’m worried if I do that, you’ll disappear. I’d rather keep you right where I want you.”

“How about that coffee?”

“Cut!”

I jump when Beckett stops the scene, and it’s then that I realize I’ve gotten to my feet and taken several steps closer to the set. My hands are in fists at my sides, and I feel like someone has been slowly cutting off my oxygen supply without me realizing.

“Mr. McAllister?” It’s Bonnie who notices me first, her eyebrows low as she takes a step toward me before stopping herself.

I look at Beckett. “What was that?”

He raises an eyebrow. “What was what?”

I gesture toward Bonnie and Jonah. “That.”

“That was the meet-cute.”

“But it was wrong.”

Sighing, Beckett starts looking around as if trying to find someone who can drag me off set. “Mr. McAllister, that was straight from the script.”

“Verbatim,” Jonah adds unhelpfully. He’s a good physical fit for Logan’s character, but I don’t know enough about him to care right now.

I fold my arms. “I don’t care if that was in the script. It was entirely wrong.”

“Hank,” Bonnie whispers.

I ignore her, keeping my eyes on Beckett. “That wasn’t like the book.”

He groans. “Oh good. A purist. ”

“It’s not about purity. It’s about taking out one of the most crucial parts of the story. Gabrielle should be pushed into the street, and then she’s supposed to chase after the guy.”

“How is she supposed to meet Logan if she runs away?” Jonah asks, and he puffs out his chest as if proud of his argument. Something tells me he didn’t read the book either.

What kind of director—or actor, for that matter—doesn’t read the source material for the project he’s doing? That’s just stupid.

Turning to face Jonah, I try to keep my voice even. “Logan follows Gabrielle.”

“They chase the guy together until they lose him around a corner,” Bonnie adds quietly. “It’s the only reason she trusts Logan so quickly, because he runs faster and nearly catches the guy.” Then she looks at me, giving me a grimace. “For the record, I think our version is too romcom.”

That’s exactly what I was thinking. Turning back to Beckett, who looks ready to throw his tablet in the air and give up for the day, I raise my eyebrows at him. “You do know this is a mystery suspense, right?”

“It’s a love story,” he argues.

“Woven in through a murder investigation. Gabrielle almost dies in the third act.”

“Spoiler alert,” Jonah grumbles.

He can’t be serious.

“You haven’t read the whole script?” Bonnie asks him in alarm.

Shrugging, Jonah points to the crewman who is holding on to his script for him. “I just need to know the scenes we’re doing today.”

“But how are you supposed to know the mood of the scene or how your character is going to react to something?”

I’m no actor, but even I know Bonnie is in the right here. So when Jonah says, “That’s what the director is for,” I suddenly feel sick.

I shouldn’t have given in to my curiosity. Ignorance would have been so much better than knowing this movie is going to be a total disaster. I have a feeling I’m not going to have any influence over anything that happens on this set, so I shouldn’t even try. If any of my other books get optioned, I’m making sure my feedback is part of the contract or I’m not selling.

Wait, do I even have the right to refuse? I should probably check with my lawyer…

“Mr. McAllister,” Beckett says wearily, “as much as I would love to do a perfect page to screen, that’s not how movie adaptations work. I can’t cram four hundred pages into two hours.”

I never expected that, and I knew things would have to be cut or changed, but—

“Beckett,” Bonnie says, her voice suddenly sweet and gentle. She’s now doe-eyed and mesmerizing, and I’m not the only one transfixed. “What if we try something in the middle? I get pushed, but when I try to chase after the guy, Jonah grabs my arm and stops me because he’s worried that I’m injured? It won’t take a new scene setup, but it would help lay the groundwork for the big plot twist.”

Beckett rubs his chin thoughtfully and then gestures for one of the women behind him. They start whispering, which I hope is a good sign.

“Oo,” Jonah says, rubbing his hands together. “I love a good plot twist. I can’t wait to find out what it is.”

I have never had the urge to punch someone before, but I kind of want to hit him for being the idiot who didn’t read the whole script. “Logan is the bad guy,” I tell him.

His jaw drops. “Wait, what? I am? Since when?” He hurries over to grab the script and starts riffling through the pages while saying something to who I assume is his assistant.

I swear Bonnie breathes a sigh of relief. After checking to make sure Beckett is busy, she comes over to me and puts her hand on my arm. “I thought Jonah was upping the charm to compensate for Logan’s real motivation, not because he thought he was actually the love interest. And there are so many things about the script that I hate, but I’m not a screenwriter, you know? I’m just a pretty face saying the lines they give me.”

“It’s not your fault no one paid attention to the actual plot.” I sound grumbly, but I can’t help it. “I kind of wish I hadn’t come so I wouldn’t know how badly that scene was written.”

“It’s not just that one.” Bonnie grimaces. “I tried telling Beckett that we needed to tweak things, but he wouldn’t… He says he has a good grasp of the story.” She shrugs, her cheeks flushing red as she does her best to look unbothered. Apparently she can only act when she’s in front of a camera because I don’t believe her for a second. She is incredibly bothered.

Beckett is still deep in discussion, and Jonah has a hand over his mouth, like he just read the part where Logan turns on Gabrielle and reveals that he’s been working with the other antagonist all along. I should probably go, but I feel bad about leaving Bonnie on her own.

“Thank you,” I say, ducking my head. “For suggesting a compromise.”

Bonnie grins wide. “I am so good at compromises. Like, last summer Derek wanted to go to the wilderness of Alaska for our public vacation, and I wanted to go on a Caribbean cruise, so I suggested we do an Alaskan cruise so we could both win, and that way the photographer didn’t have to sleep on the ground and trudge through the moose-infested woods with us.”

When she started that sentence, I did not expect it to end up where it did. I’m not even sure what to ask first. Slipping my hands into my pockets, I go back through what she just said and pick out the important parts. “Derek?” I start with.

She blushes. “My ex. Derek Riley.”

Oh. She dated the biggest star in Hollywood. One of the few celebrities I’ve actually heard of. That’s…cool?

“What is a public vacation?” I ask .

She blushes even more deeply, tucking her arms behind her back as if embarrassed. “Well, you can’t tell anyone, but Derek and I are really just friends. But the world thought we were dating, so we had to get pictures of us together to keep up the charade.”

Why does everything this woman says catch me off guard? “How often do you get into fake relationships?”

She laughs as if I just said something funny, but when she realizes I’m not laughing with her, she stops and turns a shade of red that can’t be healthy. “Oh. Um. Pretty constantly?”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what the world wants.” She tucks her arms around herself now, and a part of me wants to hug her again. I haven’t stopped thinking about the way she held me when we met, which is dangerous. But right now, she looks like she could use the support. “Look,” she continues, “I know that sounds awful. It’s always been mutually beneficial, you know? Out-of-the-box marketing, in a way, like acting in a different medium. My relationships make a lot of people happy.”

I should have gone home so I wouldn’t have to think about how this genuinely sweet and naturally beautiful woman has been in constant fake relationships in order to please a bunch of strangers, and she doesn’t even seem to think it’s strange to live her whole life for someone else. What about her happiness?

I can’t stop my next question from coming, though I know I’m going to regret asking. “Why would you let someone else control your life?”

A sudden and incredibly loud pop makes everyone in the nearby vicinity duck and scream. Bonnie leaps into me, nearly knocking me over. A few people—Laketownians, mostly—take off running as if it were a gunshot, but everyone else looks over at the front tire of Logan’s SUV, which seems to have spontaneously exploded.

“Can I get props over here?” Beckett says into a megaphone. “Everyone take a break. Bonnie, Jonah, let’s run through the blocking again. ”

The street bursts into movement, everyone hurrying to complete whatever job they have. Though Jonah passes us, muttering something about how he’s been playing Logan all wrong, Bonnie doesn’t move.

I’m not even sure she realizes I’m holding her.

“You okay?” I ask. It’s a dumb question, considering she’s hiding her face in my sweater and trembling. My hands itch to stroke her hair and offer some sort of comfort, but my elevated heart rate tells me I can’t handle that level of contact. “Bonnie?”

Stepping back, away from my arms, she laughs weakly and tucks her hair behind her ears. “That didn’t scare you?”

Maybe, but I was so focused on Bonnie jumping into my arms that it barely registered. “Of course it did,” I lie. “My heart is racing.” That part’s real.

Her warm smile almost makes the lie worth it. “Oh good, so I’m not the only one who doesn’t like loud noises.” She licks her lips and glances around. “By the way, I know it’s strange that all my relationships have been staged.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Your face did. And celebrity romances are fake all the time, publicity stunts and stuff, but I know I’m the weird one who has never really been in love. I’m fine with it that way.” She squirms when she says that, so I’m not sure I believe her. But I’ll let her keep talking. “And I really shouldn’t have asked you to be my fake boyfriend. I guess I hoped it would help the movie.”

I appreciate the sentiment, but there’s no way I could do this with her even if I wanted to. “Bonnie, a relationship isn’t going to make the movie better. But I think you can. You probably know the book as well as I do.”

That gets her laughing and blushing at the same time, and my chest grows tight as I watch her. There’s something so warm about her, a genuineness I’ve never seen before. “No way. I’ve only read it, like, five times. ”

I have to clear my throat before I can get any words out. “That’s five times more than most people. Most people haven’t read it.”

“That math only works if most people have read it once.”

I tilt my head. “Honestly, based on my sales, they probably have.”

“Or they’re like me and own all the different editions.”

Alarm spreads through me, like a delayed reaction to the blown tire, which is currently being replaced. She’s kidding, right? “Why would you have more than one copy?”

“Because they’re all so pretty!”

“That’s like owning both the DVD and the Blu-ray,” I argue, still baffled. But I also feel like laughing, which is such a foreign feeling that I don’t know how to sit with it. I shift my weight, like I’m no longer comfortable in my own body, but I’m not un comfortable.

Bonnie laughs, touching my arm at the same time and leaving me overheated. “No one uses hard copies anymore, Hank. It’s all streaming. What are you, fifty?”

As I stick my hands in my pockets, trying to give myself a sense of normalcy, I glance over to see Beckett flipping through the script while Jonah watches us with unveiled interest. It’s probably time for me to leave before I get any bad ideas. “No, I’m not fifty,” I mutter, “but I also don’t own a TV, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Seriously?”

I shrug. “Not really my thing. I used to have one, but it broke six months ago and I didn’t bother replacing it.”

“You are a strange man, Hank McAllister.” She claps a hand over her mouth, her eyes going wide. “I didn’t mean that how it sounded.”

I find myself smiling a real smile for the first time all day. The fact that I am aware that this is the case worries me a bit, but I’ve gone plenty of days without smiling. This isn’t anything new. So why am I noticing it today? Because Bonnie smiles so much that the differences between us are impossible to ignore. “I am strange,” I agree and gently tug her hand away from her face. I’m tempted to hold on to it, but I let go and take a step back. “And I’m pretty sure I’m holding up production, so I should head home.”

“Do you live nearby?”

“Good luck with the new scene, and good luck trying to fix the script. I’m sure you can make it so much better.” I turn to head back to my car, then stop dead when I see what looks like a hundred Laketownians staring at me from the sidewalk. It’s about a hundred people more than I’m comfortable with. I can practically hear their thoughts.

Hank left his house. He’s talking to someone. He actually smiled. It’s like they thought I would spend the rest of my life hidden, and now they’re wondering if I might actually give them the answers to their questions. The questions that have haunted me for the last four years.

For two seconds, I feel dizzy. Then there’s nothing but darkness.