Unwritten Read online

  “Visit my parents. I need to get up to see my grandma too.”

  “Does she live in Massachusetts?”

  “Yep, Tewksbury, just a few towns from my parents. She’s in her eighties, and she’s had some issues with her hips the last few years. Mom convinced her to move into a senior living community to have extra help, and she’s feeling a little bit like she’s been put out to pasture. I thought maybe I’d take her up to the mountains in New Hampshire for the weekend.”

  Kate felt a tug of longing in her chest at the way he spoke of his grandmother. “You’re a good grandson. Tell me about her. Are you guys close?”

  “Oh, she’s a character.” He leaned forward to set his empty plate on the coffee table. “She was a lawyer—a prosecutor—and she’ll talk your ear off with stories of all the cases she tried. My grandpa died fifteen years ago, right around the time she retired, and it’s been hard for her without him. They’d planned to travel the world together, and she just hasn’t wanted to do it alone. And yes, we’re close. She’s a very cool lady.”

  “Sounds like it. What’s her name?”

  “Evangeline. Evangeline Stockton. Sounds like a lawyer, doesn’t she?”

  “She sounds like a lawyer who means business.”

  “That she is. What about you? Are your grandparents still around?”

  She shook her head. “I never knew my dad’s parents, and my mom was estranged from hers since before I was born so I never met any of my grandparents. I always wished for a grandma, though, someone to spoil me and embarrass me and take me out for tea. Give Evangeline a hug for me.”

  “Sure will. What was it like for you, growing up with just your mom?”

  She leaned back against the couch. “It’s funny. You know me as this rich celebrity, but growing up, I had less than you did.”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t easy for her as a single mom.”

  She glanced over at him, saw the curiosity in his expression. She never talked about her past, and usually, no one asked. It figured that Josh would. “No, things were tight. Her crowning achievement as a mom was moving us from the trailer park into this run-down, shitty little house so close to the train tracks that the whole place shook every time the Amtrak went by. She worked hard. We both did.”

  “Is it true she’s writing a book about you?” His eyes were kind.

  “Yes.” Her palms stung. She looked down. Her hands were fisted so tightly, her fingernails had gouged her skin.

  Josh unfolded her fingers and took her hands in his, rubbing at the marks on her palms. “You know I’m always here if you want to talk.”

  “Thanks.” She looked away.

  “I mean it, Kate.” He tugged her closer, holding her hands in his lap. “Maybe it would help to talk about it. I hope you know me well enough to know that nothing you tell me would ever end up in the tabloids.”

  Her chest felt funny and tight as she saw the truth in his eyes. “I do know that.”

  Josh already knew her better than any man ever had, and that alone should have terrified her. It didn’t. He waited, giving her the opportunity to speak, but she merely shook her head. Her own mother hadn’t believed her. Why should she expect that Josh would?

  He nodded, understanding the moment had passed. He released her hands and leaned back into the couch. “So how did you get from that little house by the train tracks to Central Park West?”

  She drew a deep breath, relieved that her chest had returned to normal. “Hard work, and lots of it. When I first came to New York, I didn’t have much more than the clothes on my back. I lived in hostels, waitressing, cleaning hotels, anything I could do for a few bucks. I even spent a few nights in a homeless shelter when things were really tough.”

  Josh’s eyes were riveted to her face. “I had no idea.”

  “I finally scraped together enough money for an apartment, a little studio I shared with three other girls. We slept in sleeping bags and ate Ramen noodles to afford the rent. I sang in clubs at night. I sang anywhere I could get a gig and passed out demos to anyone who’d take one. Harry heard me sing one night, and he had me signed to a record label by the end of the week.”

  “So he’s been with you from the beginning.”

  She nodded. “I owe him everything.”

  “And how long was that after you moved to New York?”

  “Five years. I was twenty-two. It seemed like a lifetime back then, but now I realize how young I still was.” She gestured around them. “And here I am.”

  “I can’t picture you cleaning hotel rooms,” he admitted with a grin.

  “I can scrub a toilet like nobody’s business.”

  Sitting here like this, more like friends but with the relaxed intimacy of lovers, she could see why people settled down and got married, how nice it might be to have someone on her couch every day, chatting and sharing sandwiches. The afternoon sun had moved over to peek in through her kitchen window, and she turned to check the clock. It was just past three.

  Josh shrugged off the couch. “I should get going.”

  “I’m flying to LA tomorrow for an audition,” she told him.

  “A movie?” he asked.

  She nodded. “If I get the part, I’ll be out there for a week or so shooting scenes on a soundstage, then back here in New York for the rest of filming.”

  “Someone like you still has to audition?” A smile twinkled in his eyes.

  “For a role like this, yes, so wish me luck.”

  He crossed his fingers as he leaned forward to give her a quick kiss. “Good luck.”

  18

  Kate stood against the cold brick wall of an apartment building on Stanton Street, her face streaked with dirt and tears. Her fingernails dug into the mortar for support. The black leather miniskirt and hot pink jacket she wore offered little protection from the bitter wind, and she trembled in her boots. She kept her gaze on the sidewalk, studying the pair of size-thirteen brown leather motorcycle boots only inches from her black stilettos.

  His fingers gripped her shoulders. “Dammit, Janet, look at me when I’m talkin’ to you.”

  She sucked in a shaky breath as she raised her eyes to his chest, then his face. “I told you, Pen, I got nothing to say to the police.”

  “That’s not what I heard, and believe me, if I find out otherwise, you’ll be damn sorry.”

  She nodded, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  With a scowl, he shoved her away.

  She staggered against the building, pulling her jacket closer around her. “You never gave me anything I didn’t ask for.” More tears broke free. The salt stung her mouth.

  “Damn right, and don’t you forget it.” He turned and stalked down the street.

  “Cut,” a deep, masculine voice boomed.

  Jenn materialized at Kate’s side with a heavy coat to drape over her shoulders and a steaming cup from Olive’s.

  “That’s a wrap for today, folks.”

  Kate heaved a sigh of relief. She wiped the tears from her face and took a revitalizing sip of cappuccino. They’d filmed the same scene twelve times this afternoon. She was chilled to the bone, exhausted, and emotionally drained. She’d missed physical therapy twice this week due to early call times, and combined with the high-heeled boots she shouldn’t have been wearing, her knee was screaming in insult.

  Jenn pulled out her phone. “I’ll have Anton pull around.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be in my trailer.”

  “Kate!” Keith Leddin strode toward her, his six-foot-four frame only slightly less intimidating now than it had been while the cameras were rolling. “You were phenomenal today. Awesome stuff.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Feel like grabbing some dinner?” With black hair, olive skin, and a toned physique filling out his leather bomber jacket and jeans, Keith could have pretty much any woman he wanted.

  Except Kate. “Thanks, but I have plans.”

  “Rain check?”

  She shook her head. “No. Than
k you.”

  He stepped back, a frown tugging at his lips. “Well, have a good night, then. See you bright and early tomorrow.”

  She waved over her shoulder as she walked away. Keith Leddin had become the face of her nightmares, however irrational. As Pen Bracket, he represented everything evil in her life. Just as she was having an increasingly difficult time separating herself from Janet Turney, the world-weary prostitute who agrees, along with five others, to testify against her pimp on a rape charge.

  She made it to her trailer without limping, but barely. These boots had probably just undone several weeks of physical therapy. She slammed the door behind her and headed straight for the bathroom to wash the dirt and tears from her face. Ten minutes later, she was dressed in a cashmere sweater, jeans, and ballet flats when Jenn knocked.

  The sky was dark by the time she trudged into the lobby of her building. Her knee throbbed, and her head pounded. This job was taking its toll. Harry hadn’t been wrong about that. But she was a professional. She’d already filmed the worst of it on an LA soundstage. These scenes in New York were easy by comparison. She’d get through it and come out stronger on the other end.

  She always did.

  A steaming-hot thermos of soup and fresh bread waited on her kitchen table, courtesy of Jenn. She stared at it for several seconds. Exhausted as she was, the thought of another lonely evening in her condo made her want to pound her fists against the wall.

  As if summoned by her thoughts, her phone buzzed with a text from Josh.

  How was filming? You must be frozen. Call if you want company.

  A smile covered her face. She was in fact frozen, and she very much wanted company. He answered on the second ring and promised to pick her up in thirty minutes.

  While she waited, she fed Ben and Jerry, then limped into the kitchen for a couple of ibuprofen, because, dammit, those boots had really done a number on her knee. She was standing in front of the fireplace trying to restore feeling in her pinky toes when Josh knocked.

  “Hey.” He stood in her doorway in well-worn jeans and an emerald blazer that highlighted the green flecks in his eyes. He smelled of aftershave and man, and she wanted to fling her arms around him and drown in it. “How was your day?”

  “Long, cold, and about to get much better.” She turned to grab her purse from the end table, bumping into Josh in the process. His arms shot out to steady her. She spun and found herself pressed against his chest. “Oops.”

  She put her hands up to push out of his arms, but paused when she felt his heart pounding beneath her palm. She glanced up and saw the glint of desire in his eyes. His arms tightened around her.

  Interesting. She stepped back and led the way toward the elevator. So Josh still wanted her. Then why was he playing so hard to get?

  He slipped his hand into hers. “I made reservations at Tosca. Hope that’s okay.”

  Tosca, cozy little Italian restaurant, scene of their first kiss. Oh yes, tonight should be interesting indeed.

  * * *

  “So.” Josh looked across the table at Kate. She wore a pale pink sweater and jeans, her hair tucked into one of those inside-out ponytails. Halfway through her second glass of wine, the color had finally returned to her cheeks. “Tell me more about the movie.”

  She’d been relatively tight-lipped about it so far, which wasn’t like her. Usually, she gushed about her work, bursting with pride and ambition. This role seemed to be taking a toll on her, or maybe it was just everything else going on in her life.

  “It’s a legal drama,” she told him. “I only have a supporting role, but it’s gritty. Van Moorse is the director. You know, he’s done Yesterday’s Tomorrow and Promised Land.”

  Josh nodded. “There’s a name I do know.” Van Moorse was one of the top directors in Hollywood, producing blockbuster after blockbuster, many of them Oscar winners. It had to be a huge honor for Kate to work with him.

  “Right? He’s the gold standard. This movie could make me a serious actress, not just a singer who acts.”

  The gleam he’d been missing was there in her eyes now. This role meant a lot to her. But there was something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “Is that what you want? To be an actress?”

  She shrugged, taking another sip of wine. “Sure, why not? Music will always come first, but would I mind becoming a bona fide leading lady? Not a bit.”

  “Do you play a lawyer? I bet you’d kick ass in the courtroom.”

  She shook her head. “Far from it. I’m a prostitute who rallies together some of the girls to press rape charges against our pimp.”

  “Rape. Wow. That must be tough to play.”

  She stared into her wineglass. “It’s no Harrington Grove, that’s for sure. I get my day in court, and then I wind up in a dumpster.”

  “In a dumpster?” he asked, although he assumed he knew what she meant.

  “Dead.” She looked up, and he saw something on her face he’d never seen before. Vulnerability. For just a moment, she looked like someone who’d been speaking of her own life, not a role in a movie.

  A chill went down his spine as he remembered that afternoon so long ago when she’d reacted as if he meant to hurt her while he was using acupressure to help with her migraine. “Well, no wonder you look so drained after filming.”

  “Yes, but it was perfect timing after the tour was canceled. I thrive on being busy, as you know.”

  “I hear you. Why do you think I fly off to Spain every summer? I can’t stand being idle. I go crazy.”

  She nodded in agreement.

  “Especially since Noelia died. I find it harder now… Too much free time to think about all the what-ifs.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  “Anything you want to talk about?”

  She looked away. “The whole point is to not talk about it. Sometimes I imagine what it would be like if my darkest secrets went public, because these things happen in my world, you know? If the whole world knew…”

  He rested a hand over hers. “Knew what, Kate?”

  “Just…hypothetical.” She shrugged, her expression shuttered.

  There was nothing hypothetical about it. He’d touched on something real, something raw, here tonight. “Fair enough,” he said, dropping the topic. “I hear you’re quite the hot ticket at the Grammys this year.”

  “You been keeping tabs on me?”

  He shrugged. “Eh, sometimes you’re hard to avoid.”

  She smiled, and her eyes brightened. “So yeah. Six Grammy nominations. It’s amazing. I can’t believe it.”

  “You must have some already, though, right?” He felt as though he should already know the answer to that question, but she laughed with obvious enjoyment at his naïveté.

  “Yeah, I’ve got five, but it never really gets any less exciting.”

  “I bet. Grammys are a big deal. Will you be there?”

  “Of course.” Her shoulders squared, and her smile broadened. “I’m opening the show.”

  “Naturally.” Josh tipped an imaginary hat in her direction.

  “Well, well, look who’s here.”

  Josh turned at the sound of Sal’s voice. His friend stood by their table, pointing an accusatory finger at Kate, even as his eyes twinkled.

  She turned on her most charming smile. “Sal, isn’t it?”

  “That’s right.” He beamed, obviously impressed she’d remembered his name.

  She extended her hand. “Katherine Hayes.”

  “Oh, I know who you are now,” he said as he took her hand. “I knew you looked familiar when we met the first time.”

  She grinned. “Forgive me. Josh and I had a bet going on whether I could make it through dinner without being recognized.”

  Sal glanced between them. “And who won?”

  “I did.” She winked.

  Sal chuckled. “Good girl.” As he turned to leave, he clapped a hand on Josh’s shoulder and muttered, “I’d hang on to this one if I were you.”
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  Josh drained his glass of wine. He was treading dangerous waters here tonight, in this restaurant. He was so smitten with Kate, he couldn’t think straight, or else he never would have suggested it. They finished dinner and walked outside. Anton waited at the curb in the silver Mercedes.

  Josh slid into the back seat next to her.

  Kate turned to him. “You want to come over?”

  “I probably shouldn’t.”

  Taking her out for a romantic dinner had been a mistake. He didn’t want to further entangle himself with her, physically or emotionally, until he had a more solid idea of their relationship, a topic he had no idea how to broach.

  “Okay.” She turned to stare out the window with a look a few months ago he might have mistaken for indifference. Tonight, he saw the insecurity on her face.

  “We need to talk about things…us. But not tonight.”

  “Okay,” she repeated, but she’d pulled back, closed herself off.

  Josh clenched his fists. He hated this uncertainty between them. Tonight had reminded him so much of what they’d shared before, and dammit, he really wasn’t ready to say good night. “You want to go ice skating?” he asked on impulse.

  “What?”

  “You know, in Rockefeller Center. Something tells me we might be able to cut the line.”

  Her eyes brightened. “Probably, but only if you promise not to be mad when I get recognized.”

  Tabloid chatter about her “mystery man” had died down since September. He could manage one more public outing without being recognized, right? “Deal. Wait, I’m an idiot. I completely forgot about your knee.”

  She shook her head. “It’ll be fine. We’ll go slow.”

  “You sure it’s okay?”

  “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

  Twenty minutes later, they stepped onto the ice.

  “I should warn you,” she laughed, falling deadweight against him. “I’m not very good.”

  “Now you tell me.” He wrapped an arm around her waist, steadying her as they moved with the crowd. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. People everywhere were taking pictures of them, and he truly didn’t care. He just tuned it out and enjoyed the moment.