Summer (22 page)

“Really?” Landon made a face. “That’s crazy.”

“I know, but people buy it. They eat it up.” Ashley nodded to the rack of magazines, feeling her anger rising. “They move quickly from hinting about a problem to finding one. Anything. One of them has a drinking problem, or the other is too driven to make movies. If there isn’t a problem, they’ll create one.” She held up the magazine again. “Like this. And then . . . it can ruin a couple.”

Landon looked worried. “Katy’s not like that, though. Dayne either. They won’t let this garbage bring them down.”

“How can they not?” She had to call Katy. She pulled her cell phone from her purse. “From where they’re living, it probably feels like the whole world’s pulling them apart.”

“Are you calling her?”

“Yes.” Ashley held up her finger to her husband. “I’ll be right back.” She hurried just outside the sliding doors, where the cell reception was better, and dialed Katy’s number. No wonder Katy had seemed distant when she was home. She’d been worried about the photos, and now the pieces were all coming together. Dayne and Katy hadn’t been married three months, and already they were in trouble.

Dear God, give me the right words. This is too serious to ignore
. They needed to cut their ties with the reality show, finish the movie, and take a year off. Both of them. No one could stand this kind of scrutiny.

On the fourth ring it went to Katy’s voice mail. Ashley wasn’t surprised. Katy had said she was busy every day from morning until night.

Her message played out, and at the beep, Ashley took a deep breath. “Katy, it’s Ashley. I saw the tabloids.” She hesitated. Most of what she wanted to say was too much to leave on a message. “I’m worried about you, friend. Maybe you and Dayne need to drop the reality show before you both pay the price. Call me, okay?”

She returned to Landon and the boys and gave him a nervous look. “I left a message.”

“I don’t know.” He glanced at the row of magazines again. “It’ll be rough for a while, but I think they’re pretty stable.”

Ashley ran her fingers through her hair. “Weird things happen in that business.” She turned away from the tabloids. “I just hope she calls back.”

Three hours later, after they’d walked home with their ice cream and a bag of magazines, after they’d eaten another dinner of chicken salad and finished off half the ice cream, while Ashley and Landon were giving Devin a bath, Katy tried to reach her. Ashley didn’t see the missed call until she was turning in for the night. She listened to the message, but there wasn’t much to hear.

Katy sounded like she was crying. “Thanks for caring, Ashley. . . . We can’t get out of the show, and as for me and Dayne . . . it’s not good. Talk to you later.”

As Ashley closed her phone, her stomach tightened again like it had earlier. The pressure took her breath, and for fifteen seconds it made her forget about Katy and Dayne. As it eased up, she felt a sense of reassurance. False contractions were normal, another sign that this was like any other pregnancy, free of complications.

Which was more than could be said for Katy and Dayne’s marriage. Ashley closed her eyes and prayed for her brother and his wife, for the love they’d worked so hard to find and the marriage they desperately needed to protect. Then she made a plan to call Dayne in the morning and pray with him. Whatever she could do to offset the damage spread across the tabloids.

Before it really was too late.

Dayne could tell something was wrong the minute he walked into the location dining hall. The studio had rented an entire ranch for the shoot, and meals were held in a lodge with twenty cafeteria tables.

For the most part, lunch was over. Katy was shooting an indoor scene with the character playing her mother. She’d be lucky if they finished up in the next hour. Only a half dozen extras and gofers were scattered at a couple of the tables. As Dayne walked in with a few other actors, the action at both tables stopped. Two of the guys whispered to each other, and one of the tables cleared.

Dayne kept walking, but as he passed their tables, he spotted a smattering of tabloids spread out across both. “Great,” he muttered.

“They’re relentless lately.” The actor beside him was older, a veteran. He gave Dayne a friendly punch on the arm. “They’ll get tired of you eventually.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.” Dayne grabbed a turkey sandwich and an apple and headed for the table where the extras had been sitting a minute earlier. He wasn’t even situated before he saw the cover of the closest magazine. “What?” He dropped to the bench and pulled the rag closer. An angry groan came from the base of his throat. “I knew it.”

The cover had a photo of him and Randi and another of Katy and Stephen. The smaller headline beneath Katy’s photo said, “Oops! Wrong Romance on the Set!”

He hung his head for a moment. His actor friend was caught up in a conversation near the food line, and Dayne was glad. He didn’t need an audience now. His heart slammed around like an errant pinball, but he had to face whatever the magazines held. He looked at the cover again and quickly opened it to the centerfold section. Sure enough, there he was in half a dozen photos with Randi Wells. A picture of the two of them leaving the nightclub arm in arm, one of them rubbing noses, and another of him helping her into his limo. The most damaging picture was the biggest, a shot of Randi leaning on him as he used her keys to help her into her house.

Below the photos and a heading that read, “Second Time Around?” was a short story saying that Randi was considering the role starring opposite Dayne in his next film—the one scheduled to shoot in Mexico this fall. “The world already loves the on-screen chemistry between these two. Now that Randi’s single and Dayne’s new marriage is on the rocks, maybe these stars will find real love the second time around.”

Anger raced through Dayne’s veins, consuming him. They didn’t know a thing about real love. He should call his attorney and file a suit against the rag. Never mind that the magazine was owned by the same company that produced
For Real
. Celebrities had sued tabloids in the past and come out victorious. Not that it would stop them. Tabs could pay out hefty settlement fees and still keep printing dirt on celebrities. Gossip was lucrative.

He scanned the next few pages and read a quote from a “source close to Katy Hart” that she had been impressed with her director from the beginning. “Rumor is he wants Katy in his next film too. Insiders think he’s interested in more than Katy’s acting ability.”

Dayne shoved the magazine aside and glanced at the others scattered on the table. The news was the same in each—positioned differently and with headlines that varied by a few words. It didn’t matter which tabloid a person picked up; the message was clear. Katy and Dayne’s new marriage was on the rocks. Big-time.

His appetite was gone, his rage too great to allow room for anything else. He picked up his plate and tossed it in the trash. Then, without turning back to check on his friend, he left through the side door. He didn’t quit walking until he was past the arena and halfway across the thirty-acre field behind the ranch.

Dayne was supposed to film another scene in half an hour, but that could wait. For now he needed space and perspective before he stormed up to the director and quit. He stopped and put his hands on his hips, his back to the ranch and its outbuildings. Amazing that a camera crew hadn’t followed him out here. This was newsworthy, after all. The day the tabloids hit the stands, loaded with the most dirt on his marriage so far. Certainly the viewing audience would want Dayne’s reaction.

The hot sun baked his shoulders, but he didn’t care. Within an hour Katy would finish her scene, and then what? Since they’d been back from Bloomington, they were constantly at odds. He’d disregarded rumors that she’d been too friendly with the horse trainer, Rick, while he was in Los Angeles, but when they talked about it, her reaction was defensive.

“Give me a break.” She’d rolled her eyes and then waved toward the arena. “I did everything I could to stay away from the guy. I treated him like he was twelve.”

Clearly the magazines were trying to create conflict. But he and Katy couldn’t simply ignore the stories in the tabloids. Like any marriage, they needed to communicate. The trouble was, if they talked about the stories in the rags, there was a sense that maybe they were believing them.

It was a no-win situation.

And most of the time they didn’t have the chance to talk anyway. Katy was busy all the time, giving an interview to this or that magazine and doing prepublicity radio spots for the movie. If that wasn’t enough, they’d made their decision. Since Dayne would be busy in Mexico, Katy could take the role in their director’s next film, the one shooting in England. Which meant once this film wrapped up, they’d have hardly any time before they were separated for as much as two months.

Dayne rubbed the back of his neck and stared as far into the sky as he could. A pair of hawks made lazy circles against the blue. What was he doing here in New Mexico? He should be home in Bloomington. He’d never planned to marry an actress. If this was the life he wanted, he could’ve stayed with any of the dozen women he’d dated over the last ten years. Katy was different; that was what made her attractive. She was honest and genuine and devoted to God.

He paced a few steps in either direction and pulled his cell phone from his jeans pocket. He flipped it open and dialed his dad’s number. Five seconds passed and then ten. He studied the phone, trying to make out the signal indicator in the glare of the sunlight.
Come on . . . connect. Please, God . . .
But after twenty seconds, a series of beeps sounded and a message appeared. No signal available.

His dad would’ve had something to say to him, some bit of wisdom or advice. He’d stayed in a happy marriage right up until the day Elizabeth died. Dayne crossed his arms and looked at the ground between his feet. Was he jealous of Katy? He let the question hang around his heart for half a minute. No, he wasn’t jealous. She could have a career in the movies if she wanted.

He slipped his hands in his pockets and looked past the split-rail fence that bordered the ranch to the highway beyond. A part of him wanted to keep walking, head down to the blacktop road, and figure a way out of the madness. He closed his eyes and exhaled. But he needed to get back before Stephen sent a search party for him. When he returned, he couldn’t allow anything but his usual relaxed demeanor, the easy grin. When all he wanted to do was find Katy and run for their lives, for the life he wanted to share with her. Yes, the next few hours would test his acting.

A deep breath filled his lungs, and he found his resolve. Maybe he could check in on Katy before he started filming and let her know he loved her. No matter what the paparazzi were trying to do. If he hurried, he might find her before the reality show people shoved a camera in his face again. He turned around and took the first steps back to the set, and he heard someone yell, “Roll it! Get his reaction!”

The
For Real
camera crew was set up at the edge of the ranch, a video camera aimed straight at him. Even as his heart was breaking for Katy, and as his earlier rage once again consumed him, Dayne did the only thing he could do.

He smiled.

The hours became days, and the days became two fast and harried weeks. It was the last Monday in June, time to start shooting the intimate scenes between Katy and Dayne. The love scenes.

Dayne was in his trailer, pacing and staring out the tinted windows every few seconds, looking for Katy. What was taking her so long? Why wasn’t she more anxious to meet with him? Didn’t she feel things going sideways? Couldn’t she see that the stories in the tabloids were the work of
For Real
?

There was a knock at the door, and Dayne felt himself exhale. Finally. He took long strides and opened it. “Katy, I—” He stopped cold.

“Uh, yeah . . . sorry, Dayne.” It was one of the other actors. “Katy asked me to tell you she can’t make it. She’s busy in wardrobe.” The guy shrugged and shifted his eyes downward for a few seconds. When he looked up again, there was an awkwardness in his body language. No question the actor felt bad for bearing this news. “She said to tell you she’ll see you on the set in an hour.”

“Thanks.” Dayne forced himself to appear casual, confident, easygoing. The way Dayne Matthews was expected to react. He smiled. “Tell her I’ll see her there.”

But when he closed the door behind him, he leaned against it. She wasn’t coming. Whatever the problems between them, they were bad and getting worse all the time.

He didn’t have to guess what was waiting for him outside the trailer door. The crew of
For Real
was closing in, capturing their story.
Look
, their actions shouted.
America’s golden couple is struggling! The strain of working on a movie together is ripping them apart! Everyone tune in and see for yourself!

Dayne straightened, reeled back, and drove his fist hard into the hollow door, shattering the first layer of wood. His knuckles started bleeding, but he didn’t care. He was breathing hard, and he stepped back, furious with himself and even angrier with the camera crew outside.

How could he have agreed to the reality show? The problem wasn’t Katy, of course. Her ignorance of the business had convinced her that having a reality show on the set was a good thing, that they wouldn’t have to run from the press if they gave interviews and allowed pictures all day long. Even after everything that had gone wrong by having the press on the movie set, Dayne could understand what Katy was thinking. How would she have known any different?

But what was his excuse? He should’ve said something that morning on their honeymoon when he took the call from his agent. Some nights he went to sleep dreaming about how different life might be if he’d only said no. No, they wouldn’t parade around for any camera crew, because their story simply wasn’t sensational enough. Dayne and Katy were already married. Any good storyteller knew that once the conflict was resolved, it was time to pull out.

Unless more conflict could be created.

How had he missed that? How could he have put their marriage on the line for a chance to avoid being chased by the paparazzi?

He dropped to the nearest chair, anchored his elbows on the table, and covered his face with his hands. His leg ached, the one he almost lost in the car accident. He rubbed it and clenched his jaw. The accident had nearly killed him. Of course he would’ve been open to an idea that might avoid another wreck. He replayed in his mind Katy’s reaction to the first batch of cover stories two weeks ago.

After taking a few minutes alone in the field behind the ranch, he’d found Katy in the dining area surrounded by a couple of the producers and film editors. The magazines were piled at the end of her table.

His heart beating in his throat, he motioned for her to step away for a minute. She did as he asked and followed him out the side door to a quiet spot. The
For Real
crews were somewhere nearby, but for a few minutes, they were alone.

Dayne took her hands in his. “I’m sorry.” His fingers shook and he swallowed, trying to find his voice. “Nothing happened with me and Randi. I want you to know that.”

“I trust you.” Katy smiled, but it didn’t come close to reaching her eyes. “I just wish there would’ve been someone else at the club who could’ve driven her home.” She angled her head. “You know?”

“I tried that.” He didn’t want to mention the young starlets who’d been bothering him. “I wanted out of there. . . . I didn’t know what else to do with her. She was too drunk to walk.”