Page 110 of Cast to be Mine

She nodded and moved down the aisle to find her seat. I stood there like an idiot, blocking the walkway, trying to process what she’d just told me.

Grace had left. Without saying goodbye. Without telling me.

I found my seat and dropped into it, staring out the window at the tarmac. The Hawaiian sun was already brutal, even this early in the morning. Ground crew moved around the plane, going through their pre-flight routines.

I’d missed her at the wrap party. I’d kept scanning the crowd all night, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. I assumed she was leaning into the leading lady role and would show up fashionably late. I would have had to keep my distance but at least I would have seen her. At least I would have known she was okay.

Instead, she’d been at the airport. Booking a flight. Running away.

From me.

The flight attendant made an announcement about preparing for takeoff. I barely heard it. My mind was stuck on Grace. She missed the wrap party that was about more than just getting drunk and celebrating a successful shoot. In a way, they provided closure. Something almost magical happened when a production wrapped. Feuds that had simmered for months suddenly evaporated over shared drinks. People who’d butted heads found common ground in their mutual exhaustion. Friendships that might have fizzled got solidified into something that would last beyond the bubble of the shoot.

It was all about making connections. If you worked well together on one production, you tapped into that when you had a new project. Every production was like a job interview. If you did well and connected to the right people, you were a shoo-in for the next movie.

Last night I’d watched crew members who’d been at each other’s throats hugging it out near the pig roast. I’d seen Jack actually apologize to one of the camera operators he’d been a dick to during week two. The whole production came together in a moment of collective pride and accomplishment unlike anything else I’d ever felt.

And Grace had missed all of it.

The plane started taxiing. I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes, but all I could see was her face. My girl.

The thought stopped me cold.

When had I started thinking of her as my girl?

She’d become mine without me even noticing it happening. Shit. I was in deep. Way deeper than I’d let myself admit.

The plane lifted off, and I watched Hawaii shrink beneath us. We’d gotten everything we needed. The footage was going to be incredible. This movie was going to launch careers—mine, Grace’s, maybe even some of the crew who’d gone above and beyond.

Instead, I felt hollow.

I shouldn’t have gotten involved with her. Not because it was wrong—it wasn’t. What we had was real, and I didn’t regret a single moment of it. But she was the one paying the price. She was the one whose name was being dragged through the mud. She had to flee a wrap party like a criminal because she couldn’t face the whispers.

I’d been so focused on protecting her from the scandal that I’d become the source of it. Some protector I turned out to be.

The flight home felt endless. Five hours of staring at the clouds, replaying every moment with Grace. All of it. The good, the bad, and the hot. I didn’t hang around to talk with Toby or anyone else. I grabbed my bags and headed straight for my car, ignoring the cluster of crew members making plans to grab drinks. Normally I would have joined them, but I wasn’t in the mood for company.

I’d texted Grace twice during the flight. Once when we took off, just a simple “Are you okay?” And again via WhatsApp.

She’d responded to the second one and pretty much destroyed my heart.

I need some time. Let things die down. I’ll reach out when I’m ready.

I couldn’t blame her. Not really. The scandal had hit her harder than it had hit me. I was the director—people expected directors to be difficult, complicated and maybe a little inappropriate. But she was the actress. The newcomer. The woman who’d supposedly slept her way into the role.

It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.

But fair didn’t matter in Hollywood. Perception was everything, and right now, the perception was that Grace Stone was either a homewrecker or a gold digger, depending on which tabloid you believed. Because that was something new the tabloids spit out. They didn’t believe the video. They decided Chantilly was lying to save face. There were people dissecting the video of Chantilly in the makeup chair and had concluded she was not the one kissing Jack.

People really needed to get a life.

I pulled into my garage and dragged myself inside, dropping my bags in the entryway without bothering to unpack. I wandered into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Nothing appealed to me. I closed it again and leaned against the counter, pulling out my phone.

Her last message stared back at me. I’ll reach out when I’m ready.

When would that be? A week? A month? After the movie premiered and the scandal had faded into the background noise of Hollywood gossip?

I wanted to call her and suggest a united front was the best way to handle this. But she’d asked for space, and I had to respect that. Even if it was killing me. I needed to stay busy or I would make myself crazy.