Big & Beautiful 10: Round & Ravishing
Auteur·e
Mary E Thompson
Lectures
113K
Chapitres
22
In the charming town of Winterville, Tara Fisher is trying to rebuild her life after a tumultuous past in Hollywood. As she navigates new friendships, a budding romance with the compassionate nurse Noah, and the challenges of starting an acting studio for kids, Tara must confront old wounds and secrets that threaten her fresh start. With the support of her close-knit community, Tara learns that love and redemption are possible, even when the past seems impossible to escape.
Chapter 1
Book 10: Round & Ravishing
It always seemed strange to me to take a lunch break after only two hours of work. Why even bother? Then again, I was hungry. And any break from dealing with the incessant whining of brides who couldnât make up their minds, or men thinking flowers would fix their mess, or, the worst, the guys buying flowers for a first date and asking me what the woman would like.
How would I know?
Just because I was a woman did not give me qualifications to understand all of them. Especially when we hadnât met.
And no. A picture on Facebook of said woman was not going to help me figure it out. Not unless she was standing in front of a garden and pointing to a flower with the caption, âMy favorite flower!â
Maybe a lunch break after two hours wasnât such a bad idea.
I could hear my momâs voice out front talking to a customer and struggled to drown it out. Itâd been eight months since Iâd moved home. Eight months since I gave up on my acting career and left California. Eight months since my mom called and said my dad wasnât doing well and she needed the help. Eight months since I moved back in with my parents.
I wasnât sure I could last eight more days.
It was like being back in high school again. Living by their rules. Working at Coming Up Daisies, my momâs flower shop. Having no life.
I clicked online as I sat down with my lunch at the computer. There was one good thing about living with my parents. The food. Both my parents enjoyed cooking and always made enough food for me to have lunch the next day. It was one of the only things that kept me there. I enjoyed cooking, but it kind of sucked to cook for just myself.
Without really thinking about it, I clicked through to search for Patrick Williams. My ex. Heâd finally made something of himself and instead of pulling me up the ladder with him, Patrick dumped me and moved on to another hot actress. Hotter. Skinnier. Younger.
It was the clichĂ© Iâd hoped to avoid becoming. And yet, I was it. The poster child for why you shouldnât follow your dreams if they led you to fame and fortune.
But Iâd kept my dignity. Sort of.
Articles filled the screen about Patrick. After the first big movie he directed, he was suddenly in demand. All the big studios wanted him. He was the next big thing, and in Hollywood, big was in.
Unless it was your dress size. Then small was in.
I skimmed through the first article and saw he booked a new film. On top of three he already had in the works. I hated that I was jealous of his success. At one point, weâd been partners. Living in a tiny apartment on the not-so-great side of town and eating Ramen noodles and mac and cheese. Instead of the limited diet boosting my career, heâd taken a chance on a movie that turned into a blockbuster. One that he never even mentioned to me until casting was done. One I would have been perfect for.
If the lead was not a tiny waif.
But it wasnât meant to be. Thatâs what I told myself. I wasnât ever really in love with him. I wasnât meant to be famous and have a life in Hollywood. I couldnât handle what that life demanded of me. I was destined to return home and read all about how wonderful my exâs life was online while listening to my mom talk to a customer.
I clicked the next article and read a little more about the new movie. Then read one about the movie heâs going to be shooting next. They werenât releasing details about where shooting would take place, only saying it was a small town. It wouldnât be long before the details were out there. If shooting was supposed to start in a month or so, the media would need to know where to send people. Plus, they would need to cast extras and secure police support for road closures and countless other tasks that needed to be in place before everyone descended.
I closed that one since it didnât give me any new information and sighed. One more article.
I knew I shouldnât care what he was doing with his personal life, but it still irritated me that heâd dropped me so easily. Like we werenât anything. Heâd told me he loved me, but I guess Hollywood had a different interpretation of what love really was.
A picture of Patrick with his arm around Cassie Clarke filled the screen. He was looking at her like she hung the moon. His eyes were bright and loving, an expression I knew well. His smile was the one heâd always reserved for me. Not his I-want-you-to-like-me smile or his I-want-to-impress-you smile or his are-you-buying-this smile. It was the one heâd flashed me when he spotted me across the room at a party. Or when we were watching movies and comparing notes of how we would have done it better. Or when we were making love.
I scrolled up, not wanting to see that look anymore. I knew it wasnât a look born of love. It was just another in his long line of fake smiles, but it still hurt more than I wanted it to that he was giving another woman that look.
I was not Cassie Clarke. And until Patrick hooked up with her, I wasnât jealous of her dark, angled bob or her too perky breasts or her endless legs that she had no qualms about showing off or her willingness to do nude scenes.
She was Hollywood defined. And exactly why I was never a success.
I scanned through the article and saw that they were still the Hollywood âitâ couple. She was starring in one of his new movies but said she always worried about him going off on shoots. That she wanted to make sure he was faithful. I snorted. She had good reason to be worried. There were many reports that Patrick didnât know how to keep it in his pants ever since he hit it big. Iâd suspected him of cheating quite a few times, but I never had any proof.
It didnât matter anymore.
Then I saw my name.
Patrick Williamsâ ex, Tara Fisher, fell off the radar of Hollywood when Patrick became a household name. Rumors surrounded the couple for months following their break-up but neither confirmed nor denied any of them. Now, more rumors are circulating as-
âTara! I need your help,â my mom hissed from the office doorway.
I turned to her, startled, then shook my head. âJust a second, Mom.â
âI canât wait a second. Iâm finishing up with a customer now and thereâs another one in the shop that I said Iâd be with soon. A third just walked in and I need to go in a minute to take your dad to the doctorâs office. Iâm going to be late as it is.â
I huffed. âFine,â I sighed, closing the browser. Iâd read the rest of the article later. I definitely wasnât news anymore so whatever they thought theyâd dug up couldnât possibly be urgent.
* * *
Ten minutes later my mom was out the door and I was finishing up with the guy Iâd been helping. One of those who had no idea what he wanted for the woman he was taking out on a date. Heâd gotten her daisies on their first date and said he thought she liked them, but it was date two so he was stepping things up.
He wanted roses.
Thankfully I talked him into irises.
âAre you sure sheâs going to like these?â
I smiled and nodded, hoping he wouldnât see the irritation I was trying to hide. âOf course. Theyâre beautiful flowers. I think roses would be too much for a second date. Thatâs what you send your wife on Valentineâs Day or carry in your wedding. Roses bring too much expectation to a second date.â
He looked a little disappointed but didnât argue. I handed him back his card and thanked him, hoping Mom would be around to help him if he got a third date.
âHow can I help you?â I asked the remaining customer.
He smiled, a warm, friendly smile, then glanced at the door. His dark eyes sparkled when he looked at me again. âThat guy isnât getting a third date.â
A bubble of laughter broke free before I could stop it. âSorry.â
He shook his head and stepped closer. âNothing to be sorry for. You know itâs the truth. If a man has to bring flowers to a date, heâs already trying too hard.â
âOh, I donât know. I think flowers are a kind gesture.â
âBut a little old-fashioned. You seem like a modern, feminist sort. The kind of woman who would appreciate being impressed with something a whole lot flashier than a bouquet of flowers.â
I shrugged. His comments hit a little too close to home. After working in a floral shop most of my life, flowers had lost their appeal. But I knew I was in the minority. âI think we all have a duty to impress the person weâre dating. If we stop impressing them, the relationship falls apart. It doesnât always have to be flashy though. Simple things can show how you feel.â
âLike a nice dinner.â
I shrugged. âSure.â
âMaybe a night on the town.â
His dark brows lifted in suggestion, making me wonder if he really was hitting on me. He was cute. Dark hair cut short. Broad shoulders. A leather jacket that was worn but definitely not cheap. Jeans that hugged him very well. A night out with him might not be such a bad thing, but I snickered. âNot much of a town around here.â
He nodded. âTrue. Maybe a quiet night in. A favorite old movie?â
âI like movies,â I said with a grin. There was no way he could know watching old movies with my mom was part of what made me want to become an actress. Once I realized the women in movies got to play different roles, be different people, and they werenât true stories of their lives, I fell in love with the screen. With the chance to be someone else. To do something else every day.
âIâm a big fan of movies. I especially enjoy the ones no one else watches. The ones only a select few ever see. It makes me feel like Iâm getting a secret peek into another person. Like I know you better than the people who talk to you every day but donât ever watch your movies.â
Tingles ran up my neck. Did he know who I was? That I used to act? Was there a chance he was a stalker and followed me out to Winterville? If he left California to find me in New York, I needed to get rid of him as quickly as possible. âSure. Um, sorry. I wasnât thinking. Is there something I can help you with?â
He stepped even closer, close enough that he could touch me if he wanted to. I was suddenly very aware of the fact that we were completely alone.
âI actually came here to talk to you, Tara.â
âHow do you know my name?â
He shrugged. âA lot of people know your name. You were never very good about hiding who you were.â
âWhat do you want?â I asked, fear and anxiety swirling in my gut and making me feel sick. Maybe if I threw up on him he wouldnât attack me.
I backed up to the counter and worked my way around it, putting something solid between us. If he lunged, Iâd have a few seconds to figure something out.
Like where in the hell were our shears?
âIâm not here to hurt you, Tara.â
âIsnât that what all murderers say?â
He laughed. Damn him for having a sexy laugh. Men as creepy as him shouldnât be allowed to be hot. It would be a shame to have to ruin his face, or his leather jacket, if he tried to hurt me.
âHonestly, Iâve never met a murderer. At least,â he paused and tapped his chin with his index finger, âI donât think I have. I just came here to talk to you.â
âAbout dating?â I asked, not buying his act for one more second. The only thing I couldnât figure out was what he wanted from me. Or why.
He laughed again but didnât move closer. âWell, dating is one topic Iâd be interested in discussing with you. You could tell me a little about your dating history.â
âWhy do you care?â
He shrugged, failing to appear indifferent. âIâm a curious person.â
âA lot of people are curious. I donât know anything about you. Why would I tell you anything about me?â
He extended his hand and waited for me to shake it. When I did, he squeezed my palm gently, but let go. Thank God. âIâm Thomas Hinson. Iâm a big fan of your movies. I really hated that that asshole ran you out of town. I was looking forward to seeing you on the big screen one day.â
I shook my head. âI was never meant for the big screen.â
âIsnât that what you wanted? I read an interview you did a few years ago that said you were hoping to grab a spot in a big movie. A spot that would make you a household name.â
I shrugged. âMaybe once upon a time. Itâs not meant for me. I wasnât willing to do what it took to make it in Hollywood.â
âLike the surgeries and the nudity?â
âAmong other things,â I said, hoping he didnât know all the things I did when I first started in Hollywood. The things that made me feel sick, but I did them because I thought that was how you had to be.
âPatrick was willing to do whatever it took though. Thatâs how he got his first hit, right?â
âItâs different for directors. Heâs not on-screen.â
Thomas shrugged. âHe has to give interviews.â
âYeah, but not everyone is going to see an interview. Hopefully theyâll all see a movie.â
âI think everyone saw a copy of Patrickâs last interview. Even though it was only an online magazine. They said a picture is worth a thousand words, right?â
I shrugged, wondering why Thomas cared what I thought about Patrickâs interview. âI guess. I havenât seen it.â
Eyebrows spiked high into his hair. âReally? You didnât see it?â
I shook my head. âNo. Why would I care what Patrick is up to? Weâve been over for a long time and Iâm not in the industry anymore.â
âThat may be the case, but youâre definitely still news. Especially when Patrick shared nude photos of you online.â
âExcuse me?â I whispered, shocked and horrified and hopeful the guy was lying.
He laughed. The sound I found sexy just minutes earlier became predatory and frightening. âYou really didnât know, did you? You were always so high and mighty with your nudity clauses. Never wanted anyone to see you naked. And instead, your picture is posted all over the internet compliments of your ex who rose to fame after he dumped you. This is rich! I canât believe Iâm the first one to find you.â
âGet out!â I yelled. âGet the fuck out of here!â
He laughed and shook his head. âI donât think so. I have every right to be here. And I doubt your mom would be too happy if she found out you threw me out when I was just trying to order some flowers.â
I grabbed the shears and stepped out from behind the counter. âI said get out. Now. You will not stand here and threaten me.â
âWhoa!â He backed up. âDonât stab me.â
âDonât threaten me.â
He chuckled and moved toward the door. âIâve always hoped Iâd get the chance to meet you. Your movies really were great to watch. Especially Trapped. That was my favorite.â
I cringed. Bile rose in my throat. My palms were sweaty. My neck hurt from my attempt to keep my shit together. My knuckles were white. He needed to get out.
I moved forward again, keeping the shears pointed at him. âGet out.â
He threw up his hands and laughed again. âOkay, Iâm gone. But Iâll be back Tara Fisher. You canât hide from me.â
