He examined his nails as her face reddened with anger. She looked down and brushed at her skirt, then raked him with her eyes. Her icy tone scraped his nerves. “Your fans want to know about you, Finley. Why are you so selfish? Why don’t you share with them? They are, after all, the ones who put you where you are today. You owe them everything. What’s her name and what is she to you? Your fans want to know.”
“Right.” Fin stood up to leave the room. “We’re finished here.” As he walked away, he could hear her sputtering behind him. He released a slow breath, relieved he had kept himself composed, and held it together at her last statement.
As he opened the door, he found Mac walking by. Mac glanced at Fin’s face, then peeked behind him into the room. “Oh, boy… how’d she get in there with you?”
“I don’t know, but I’m on my way to find out.”
Mac patted him on the shoulder and said, “I assume you need some damage control? Let me see if I can help you there.” As Mac moved into the room, he bellowed, “Miranda Cole! It’s been ages since we’ve talked. How come you haven’t interviewed me? Well, no problem, we can fix that… Now, what questions do you have for me?” Mac’s voice faded as the door shut behind him.
Fin approached the main room, determined to find the event coordinator and give her a piece of his mind. On his way, he ran into Buck Cabot, one of the film’s producers. Buck took one look at Fin’s face and pulled him off to the side.
“What’s wrong, Fin?”
“Why is Miranda Cole here?” Fin asked without preamble.
“She’s the lead reporter from a popular entertainment news show. Why wouldn’t she be here?”
“Because she’s on my fuck-all-the-way-off blacklist, explicitly given to the production company and written into my contract in large bold letters. She should never have gotten anywhere near me, much less put on my schedule. Who fucked that up?” Fin practically shouted the last bit.
Buck stepped back and held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I can see you’re upset. I can’t say what happened, but I will look into it and get back to you.”
“Good, because I’m done. You’re lucky this was the last scheduled interview. And I won’t be at any of the other public events. I’m out of here.”
The roomy showercube in the suite’s master bath came with a massaging shower head. After making the water as hot as he could stand it, Fin adjusted the massage setting to “beat the hell out of me” and let the hot water pound the stress out of him as the past came rushing back.
He’d met Fiona while attending university. They had been together for two years and engaged for one when she’d discovered she was pregnant. Fin was thrilled and wanted to marry right away, but Fiona insisted they wait until she finished her degree the following year. Little Rodney came along and was the light of their lives for the four months he had been in the world.
Fin slid down to the floor of the shower and sobbed as he remembered the fateful day when he’d gotten the phone call. He’d been on set for his first major film role, and their location was conveniently close to Glasgow, where he and Fiona lived. They had just wrapped up one of the more emotional scenes in the film when the assistant producer came rushing up, holding a phone out to him. The lack of color in her face screamed something was wrong. Fiona’s mother was on the line. Fiona and Rodney had been in a serious auto accident. Fin had driven to the hospital like a madman. Frankly, he was lucky he hadn’t been in an accident himself. By the time he’d arrived, they were both gone.
The investigation showed an American reporter had identified them as the family of an up-and-coming Scottish actor while they shopped. This reporter had hounded them as Fiona walked away, then had the audacity to follow them in her car as Fiona drove off. The faster Fiona drove trying to get away, the faster the woman chasing her went, until they rounded a corner and Fiona lost control of the car. Rodney had died instantly, and Fiona slipped away during surgery. The American reporter had at least called emergency services, but walked away with no repercussions. Fin had pushed for criminal charges, then pursued civil action against her, but to no avail. He had finally settled for an injunction that kept her at a distance.
Over the years, Miranda Cole’s career had blossomed just as Fin’s had. She was now famous in her own right and carried weight in the world of Hollywood. Fin had her on his blacklist, but judging by the interaction this morning, the studio didn’t seem to care when it came to promoting its products. Hopefully, it was merely some terrible mistake. With a groan, Fin carefully wrapped up the broken bits of his heart and packed them away again, then finished scrubbing the day from his body.
He sighed and stepped out of the shower stall. The original restraining order, as they were called in the U.S., only worked in Scotland. Cole had backed off following the accident, and he’d never needed to file a similar complaint in the States. But if she was making a move to insert herself into his life again, he needed to consider it.
Fin exited the bathroom in his suite with his towel wrapped snug around his hips. Hearing his phone ringing in the other room, he walked from the bedroom to the living room and snatched it off the coffee table.
“Hey, Addie,” he tiredly greeted his agent.
“What the hell happened, Fin? I got a panicked call from Buck. He said he’d never seen you this upset, dropping f-bombs—which is highly unlike you—and giving a scathing lecture to the lady in charge of scheduling. Are you okay? I mean, this is seriously uncharacteristic of you.”
Fin collapsed onto the cushy settee and exhaled loudly. “Miranda Cole was my last interview segment of the day,” he responded, his voice low.
Silence greeted him as she processed his statement. He waited.
“Fuck,” she said.
“Aye,” he agreed.
“Okay, I’m on it. I’m sorry this happened. I’ll determine who screwed up and make sure the right people know this will never happen again.”
“I’m so tired, Addie.”
Addie spoke quickly, “I know,pobrecito. But she’s nothing. An annoying reporter. Let me deal with her for you. You take your vacation and get refreshed. Book a massage, go sailing… Houston’s near the ocean, right? You take care of you and I’ll take care of that bitch.”
Fin blew out a breath, too tired to respond. Before he could say anything, Addie spoke again.
“Fin.”
