Redemption of a Hollywood Starlet

This was the life and the career she was supposed to have. It had just taken her a while to find the right path. She’d been given her second chance, and the only thing that really mattered was where she went from here.

She’d risk that heatstroke happily.

The only fly in her happy ointment was Finn. The rational pep talks she’d given herself about being an adult and leaving things in the past had turned to gibberish within just a few minutes of actually seeing him. It hadn’t been her finest moment, that was for sure, but what had she really expected? The last time she’d seen him, she’d been hurt and angry, hurling ridiculous accusations at him because she hadn’t been able to analyze, much less articulate, what she was really feeling.

She yawned and closed her eyes. Makeup had had a hard time covering the bags under her eyes this morning. She’d intended to call her mom today, but a nap seemed a more prudent use of her time since she still had several hours of filming to do tonight.

A 5:00 a.m. alarm was never fun, but she’d spent a good portion of the night staring at the ceiling as she tried to sort through the morass of conflicting emotions caused by seeing Finn. Of course the few hours she’d managed to finally sleep had been haunted by dreams that left her restless. Dreams of Finn.

Damn him for being so tactless. Why couldn’t he be like normal people and politely ignore topics best left to die? Oh, no … He had to bring up personal junk in a professional situation.

And that was what she wanted to avoid at all costs. If she could, she’d give the entire planet amnesia so everyone would completely forget what had happened three years ago.

Too bad she couldn’t give herself amnesia as well.

Good times, bad times … They weren’t really classifiable as either. They were just “Finn Times”—fun and exciting at the time, but in retrospect not the wisest of choices and not an experience she’d like to repeat.

The residual tingle from last night’s dreams rather belied those thoughts, but Caitlyn purposefully pushed those aside. Finn was tempting—very tempting—but she couldn’t risk everything she’d worked for. Eyes on the prize.

But she would have to come to some kind of understanding with Finn. She’d accept her fair share of the blame, but that didn’t mean she could just forgive and forget. Until last night she’d thought she was over it, but it hadn’t taken long for all the old hurt to come rushing back.

Damn him.

She’d had more than her fair share of failed relationships—both before and after Finn—so why did Finn alone have the power to make her hurt?

Wallowing in the past would get her nowhere. She had to concentrate on now. Ignoring each other or acting hostile would be just as likely to attract attention and gossip. She could get through this …

A knock interrupted her drowsy thoughts. So much for that nap. She called, “Come in!” and reached for her water bottle.

“Stunning outfit, Cait.”

Her eyes flew open in surprise, confirming that Finn was, indeed, in her trailer, and it took a second for the meaning of his words to actually register. Once they did … Damn it. Face hot, Caitlyn jumped up from the couch and grabbed the robe hanging on the bathroom door. Keeping her back to him, she shoved her arms through the sleeves. Granted, the old-fashioned underwear covered more than her bathing suit normally did, but that didn’t change the fact she was wearing nothing but underwear and Finn was in her trailer. Kill me now.

She took extra time tying the belt to give herself a chance to regain her composure, but the chuckle coming from behind her didn’t help. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I’m afraid to ask who you were expecting, then.”

She refused to dignify that with a response. “Can I help you with something, Finn?”

“I thought we should talk.” Finn dropped a stack of papers on the table before crossing to the fridge and looking inside. Her hackles went up at his nonchalant attitude.

“Fine. If you’ll just wait outside, I’ll get some clothes on—”

An eyebrow went up. “No need to be so modest, you know.” It’s nothing I haven’t seen before hung in the air. That knowledge didn’t help her much at all. But then, Finn had probably seen so many women naked in his life maybe he’d have difficulty remembering exactly which bits were hers.

Not that she was having any trouble remembering his. Her skin heated. Oh, he was decently enough dressed today, in jeans and a simple black tee that fit snugly against his body, but memories of what lay under those clothes …

“Regardless, I’d rather you wait outside and we go somewhere to talk.”

Finn pulled a bottle out and offered it to her. When she shook her head, he unscrewed the cap and took a long drink. Then he sat instead of leaving. She had to wonder if he was being difficult intentionally.

“Why can’t we talk here? It’s hot out there.”

She pulled the robe tighter across her chest and wished it covered a bit more thigh. “I’d rather not.”

Finn’s exasperated look was almost funny. “What is with you, Caity?”

“Nothing. I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to be seen meeting privately in my trailer. It’s … inappropriate and might be misconstrued.” Ugh, she sounded like a virgin schoolteacher.

Finn’s look said the same thing. “You’re not serious?”

“As you helpfully noted last night, my being within fifty feet of you will be enough to send the paparazzi into a frenzy. I’d rather not give them more to feed on.” She went to the closet and grabbed jeans and tee shirt and waited for him to leave.

Finn ignored the hint, so she frowned at him to make her point. He gave her a look that questioned her mental stability instead, so she took her clothes to the bathroom and closed the door to get dressed.

“I’m afraid it won’t take even that much,” he called through the door.

“Exactly,” she shouted back. “As soon as we’re seen together—however innocent it may be—all those old, embarrassing pictures of us are going to resurface. I can’t live all that down as old news if there’s speculation there’s new news.”

Now decent, she came out and opened the shades on every window, giving anyone who walked by a clear view of what was going on inside. She’d have opened the door, but that would have just let the heat in. She wasn’t willing to go that far. Propriety would just have to be served by open shades.

As she took her seat on the far side of the table, Finn snorted. “You’re taking this a little far, don’t you think?”

“I’m just cautious. You may not give a damn about appearances, but I do.”

“How kind of you to worry about me.” The smirk told her he was deliberately misinterpreting her words.

“Only to the extent that your reputation will impugn mine. I think we’ve proved that you can raise hell and people will still respect you, but I can’t. It’s a horrible double standard, so I’ve worked very, very hard to clean up my act.” She picked up her water and drank deeply. After two disastrous starts, she really needed to bring her interactions with Finn back to the business they had in common. And only that. “So, what brings you by, Finn?”

He chuckled, and it put her on guard. “That very topic, actually.”

“Your reputation?”

“Paparazzi, speculation, new news …”

That was odd. Those were the top three things Finn normally didn’t even deign to give five minutes of his time to. He really didn’t care about tabloid gossip.

A warning tingled up her spine, but she forced her face to remain merely curious and clasped her hands together to keep them still. “Okay.”

“After meeting with Dolby and Farrell this morning, we’ve decided to close the set for the rest of filming. Considering our past, they agreed it might be disruptive or distracting to have to worry about uncontrolled press for the next five weeks.”

She held up a hand. “Wait.” Barring any disasters, they’d be finished filming here by then. They shouldn’t have to close the set permanently unless … Damn. She tried to keep her voice just this side of mildly curious. “You’re not going back to L.A.?”

“No. Dolby will head back with the second unit tomorrow.”

A headache began to form behind her right eye. “But why?”

“Because.”