stalking me, that she wants a day with me or my death.” He held both hands out and made a funny face. “See what I mean? Crazy stuff.”
Kelly’s expression changed, and fear settled in around the corners of her eyes.
“What if it’s true?”
“It’s not true.” He covered her hands again. “I know when the paparazzi are on my tail; I’d certainly know if some deranged fan was following me.” He paused.
“See? It’s all nonsense.”
“What is it with those people?” She leaned her head back against the top of the leather booth. “They build you up until
50
50
you’re so… so big you can’t leave your house. Then they tear you down.”
‘Wes.” Dayne remembered his conversation earlier in the week with Marc David.
“Piece by piece.”
“I can’t stand it.” Kelly sniffed and sat up straighter. “Take me home, will you?”
“Isn’t your car here?”
“No.” She collected her purse and stuffed the magazine deep inside. “My friend gave me a ride. It’s easier going out in someone else’s car.” She nodded toward the magazine in her purse. “At least it was before that hit the streets.”
Dayne took her hand and led her from the booth. Before they entered the public part of the restaurant, he stopped and faced her, “Keep your chin up, Kelly,” He used his thumb to clean the mascara smudges from her face. “Don’t let ‘em see you crying.”
She worked her fingertips into the roots of her hair and straightened the wrinkles in her T-shirt. “That’s what I keep telling myself.” For a moment she locked eyes with Dayne. “Sometimes I’m not sure it’s worth the trouble.”
“What?” An alarm went off in Dayne’s mind. “The acting?”
“No.” The fear in Kelly’s eyes was so deep, it was impossible to see past it, “The living,”
“Hey.” He pulled her into his arms and rubbed his hand along her back. “Don’t talk like that. You scare me.”
“I’m sorry.” Her words were mumbled against his chest. She drew back. “I don’t know how to get away from it.”
Dayne reached into her purse, grabbed the magazine, and ripped out the pages with the pictures of her. He crumpled them into a ball, strode across the room, and dropped them into the closest trash can. Then he ripped out the rest of the pages, grabbing big handfuls of them, crushing them in his fists and dropping them into the trash.
From across the room, Kelly let loose a few small giggles. Finally all that was left was the cover. Dayne held it up, aimed 51
KAREN KINGSBURY
a pointed grin in her direction, then ripped the glossy layout into a few dozen pieces. He let them drift from his hands into the trash can, and when there was nothing left of the magazine, he returned to his place facing Kelly.
“That’s how you get away from it.” He moved in closer to her and took her shoulders in his hands. “Don’t read them, Kelly. They’re not real, and the people who read them aren’t real either. You’ll never know those people, and they’ll never know you. Who cares what they think?”
A desperate look filled Kelly’s eyes and she reached up, holding on to his forearms. “I want to think that way, really.” She gave a small nod. “You’re right. I need to stay away from them.” She wrinkled her nose. “Is that how you live with it?”
“No.” He chuckled and fell in alongside her, leading her to the door once more.
“I read every word because it makes me laugh. By the time I reach the end of the rag, my sides hurt.”
“Wow.” She looped her arm through his, her tone lighter than before. “That’s why you’re my hero, Dayne. Really.”
Having Kelly so close sent a familiar desire through Dayne’s body. He wove his fingers between hers and opened the door. Before taking another step, he scanned the room, It was almost empty, the dinner crowd light that evening. A few couples, nothing more. Certainly no photographers.
He turned to her. “Come on. The coast is
Kelly’s expression changed, and fear settled in around the corners of her eyes.
“What if it’s true?”
“It’s not true.” He covered her hands again. “I know when the paparazzi are on my tail; I’d certainly know if some deranged fan was following me.” He paused.
“See? It’s all nonsense.”
“What is it with those people?” She leaned her head back against the top of the leather booth. “They build you up until
50
50
you’re so… so big you can’t leave your house. Then they tear you down.”
‘Wes.” Dayne remembered his conversation earlier in the week with Marc David.
“Piece by piece.”
“I can’t stand it.” Kelly sniffed and sat up straighter. “Take me home, will you?”
“Isn’t your car here?”
“No.” She collected her purse and stuffed the magazine deep inside. “My friend gave me a ride. It’s easier going out in someone else’s car.” She nodded toward the magazine in her purse. “At least it was before that hit the streets.”
Dayne took her hand and led her from the booth. Before they entered the public part of the restaurant, he stopped and faced her, “Keep your chin up, Kelly,” He used his thumb to clean the mascara smudges from her face. “Don’t let ‘em see you crying.”
She worked her fingertips into the roots of her hair and straightened the wrinkles in her T-shirt. “That’s what I keep telling myself.” For a moment she locked eyes with Dayne. “Sometimes I’m not sure it’s worth the trouble.”
“What?” An alarm went off in Dayne’s mind. “The acting?”
“No.” The fear in Kelly’s eyes was so deep, it was impossible to see past it, “The living,”
“Hey.” He pulled her into his arms and rubbed his hand along her back. “Don’t talk like that. You scare me.”
“I’m sorry.” Her words were mumbled against his chest. She drew back. “I don’t know how to get away from it.”
Dayne reached into her purse, grabbed the magazine, and ripped out the pages with the pictures of her. He crumpled them into a ball, strode across the room, and dropped them into the closest trash can. Then he ripped out the rest of the pages, grabbing big handfuls of them, crushing them in his fists and dropping them into the trash.
From across the room, Kelly let loose a few small giggles. Finally all that was left was the cover. Dayne held it up, aimed 51
KAREN KINGSBURY
a pointed grin in her direction, then ripped the glossy layout into a few dozen pieces. He let them drift from his hands into the trash can, and when there was nothing left of the magazine, he returned to his place facing Kelly.
“That’s how you get away from it.” He moved in closer to her and took her shoulders in his hands. “Don’t read them, Kelly. They’re not real, and the people who read them aren’t real either. You’ll never know those people, and they’ll never know you. Who cares what they think?”
A desperate look filled Kelly’s eyes and she reached up, holding on to his forearms. “I want to think that way, really.” She gave a small nod. “You’re right. I need to stay away from them.” She wrinkled her nose. “Is that how you live with it?”
“No.” He chuckled and fell in alongside her, leading her to the door once more.
“I read every word because it makes me laugh. By the time I reach the end of the rag, my sides hurt.”
“Wow.” She looped her arm through his, her tone lighter than before. “That’s why you’re my hero, Dayne. Really.”
Having Kelly so close sent a familiar desire through Dayne’s body. He wove his fingers between hers and opened the door. Before taking another step, he scanned the room, It was almost empty, the dinner crowd light that evening. A few couples, nothing more. Certainly no photographers.
He turned to her. “Come on. The coast is
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