Fin laughed. “Alex.”
“That’s right… Alex. You guys look good together. Is she in the business?”
“No, she’s in the oilfield industry. A project manager I met on the way to Houston last week. She’s not starstruck at all by me.” He chuckled.
“Sounds like a keeper to me. Okay, send over the script and any ideas for the production company you already have. I’ll review them both. When did you say you’ll be in LA?” Mac asked.
“I’m flying in Friday, but Tuesday will be the earliest we can get together. In fact, let me ask Addie to arrange a meeting for the three of us. That way we can confirm that we’re all on the same page before rushing forward.”
Fin confirmed Mac’s email address and ended the call. Then he emailed Addie with the information, asking her to coordinate the meeting.
Feeling productive with the day’s accomplishments, he decided now was a good time to play tourist and go explore the Galleria shopping mall Alex had mentioned earlier in the week. He texted Blake to see how soon the hired driver was available and went to change his clothes.
Fin walkedout of the store with his latest purchase in hand. He could hardly wait to see the look on Alex’s face when she opened the box. He tucked the smaller bag with Alex’s surprise into the larger bag holding the miscellaneous clothes he’d bought for himself.
Other than one brief interaction with a few fans, he’d been able to explore the three-story mall as he pleased over the last two hours. He spied a coffee shop across the way and decided an iced coffee was exactly what he needed.
A few minutes later, as he tore the paper off his straw, someone called his name. His skin crawled, and the hairs stood up on the back of his neck as he recognized a voice he would know anywhere. He hastily ran through his options as he poked the straw through the hole in his cup lid and turned around to face her.
Miranda Cole jeered at him as the man standing next to her snapped his picture. A new photographer, Fin noted, not the one who grabbed Alex.
“Hello, Ms. Cole,” he acknowledged her greeting.
“What brings you to the Galleria today, Finley? Shopping for your lady love?” She nodded toward the packages he held.
“Occasionally I need new clothes,” he quipped. “Don’t you ever buy anything new?” Fin hadn’t meant it as an insult, but when Miranda narrowed her eyes at him, he realized she wore the same blouse she had on at the press junket. He gave her his most pleasant smile.
“Not everyone has money to burn, Finley. Why are you still in Houston? Don’t you have another press junket in LA in a few days?”
“Why areyoustill in Houston?” he shot back, disturbed she knew so much about his schedule. “I thought you’d be back in Hollywood with the other blood-suckers, I meanentertainment reporters.” He shouldn’t be baiting her, but she brought out the worst in him.
By then, a crowd had gathered and more cameras appeared. Fin took another slow, deep breath, trying to maintain his cool. He hoped that from afar, their interaction looked like a calm, collected exchange. On the inside, he felt anything but calm.
“Oh, I’m working on the story of the year. The ‘Hottest Man Ever’ playing with the locals before disappearing into the sunset.” She held up her thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. “I’m this close to knowing her name. I’d be further along if someone hadn’t got their knickers in a twist and shut down my photographer.” She scowled at him. “You’re a celebrity, McAlister. You’re only famous because of people like me, and you should be grateful. Instead, you act like you’re a god and ignore your fans. They don’t deserve you.”
“People like you?” Fin growled and stepped closer to her, lowering his voice so only she could hear. “People like you killed my fiancée and child. You think I should begratefulfor that?” He scoffed. “I don’t owe you a damn thing.”
The color drained from Miranda’s face. “Th-that wasn’t my fault,” she stammered. “The review cleared me of any wrongdoing.”
How dare she act innocent! Fin’s rage soared and his voice went deadly quiet. “It absolutely was your fault. And if you don’t stop hounding me, your photographer won’t be the only one I put the screws to. We’re done here, Ms. Cole.” Fin stepped backed from her, then turned and walked away, waving at the crowd as he left.
“What did he say to you?”
Miranda watched the Scottish actor walk away from her, trying to calm her erratic heartbeat.
“Ms. Cole? Miranda?”
“What?” she snapped.
“What did he say to you? You look upset.”
“Just worry about your job. Did you get any photos?” She knew she shouldn’t lash out at the poor guy, but she couldn’t afford to look weak.
“Um, yeah, a few. I’ll email them to you.”
“Good. I’ll catch up with you later.” Miranda dismissed the replacement photographer and looked for a quiet place to sit down. Her knees wobbled from the bombardment of memories brought up by McAlister’s raw accusation.
She found a bench and sat, her mind going back to the early days, when she’d noticed the young actor while doing a review of a stage production. Miranda had known at once he was going to be big someday, and had kept her eye on him.
