Page 8 of The Star in Room 7

“No. I’m fine to do it now.” I need to pull myself together. “It will be a good distraction.”

“All right. Do you want me to stay, or shall I leave you alone for a while?”

“I’ll be fine alone.” I need a few moments on my own.

“I’ll come back shortly, then.” Phoenix smiles and then sweeps out of the room, leaving me staring at the clothes.

Other than in a shop, I’ve never seen so many in one place before. Are there movie stars who have closets like this in their homes? There must be, with the number of actors who are never filmed or photographed wearing the same thing twice. I can only dream of affording a closet like this.

Maybe one day, when I’m famous and earning six figures for every movie.

Do I even want to be famous anymore?

The question hits me like a freight train. Being an actor is all I’ve ever wanted. It’s my dream. Except it’s turned into a nightmare. I sink to the floor and cry.

2

NATE

I make calls as I jog along the dirt trail, the morning breeze keeping me cool. I love starting my day with a run. It makes me feel alive.

“Morning, Jake. How are things?” I pause to take in the scenery and stretch my hamstrings.

I’ve got an unobstructed view across the scrub-covered hills to LA. The tall skyscrapers glitter against a clear blue sky. Beautiful.

“All good here. We’ve got a day on set doing reshoots.”

“Don’t drink too much coffee.”

Jake laughs. “Caffeine helps me do my job.”

“If you say so. Give me a call if you need anything.”

“Will do, boss.” He hangs up.

I dial the next person on my list—Tiffany. I’m on the move again before she picks up.

“Morning, boss. All quiet here. It was a late night, so Misty isn’t even up yet.”

“Good gig?”

“She had her fans eating out of the palm of her hand.”

I chuckle. “As always.”

The rest of my calls follow a similar pattern as I check in with the other close protection officers I employ. I started out being one of them, scrimped and saved, and now I’m the boss. My client list is exclusive. A- and B-listers who need varying degrees of security. I have staff who handle most of the day-to-day running of the business—hiring staff, discussing the needs of new and existing clients, boring stuff like taxes—but I still like to keep my finger on the pulse. I have a reputation for never letting a client down, and I intend to ensure that remains true.

By the time I’m back at the car, I’ve run three kilometers and have checked base with everyone I need to. I drink some water and stretch out my muscles. I love it up here, it’s like a piece of paradise, a stone’s throw from the city. One day, I’d like to move out here. Or maybe closer to the coast, so I could go surfing every morning. Imagine that—paddling out to meet a wave while the rising sun stains the ocean pink. Maybe when I retire, or, as Mom likes to put it, ‘settle down’. I keep telling her I’m married to my business, which makes her roll her eyes. Luckily, my sister has provided her with grandkids, so I’m off the hook.

Mom knows I’m gay. I’m pretty sure she knew before I did. I’m lucky to have a supportive family who wouldn’t dream of judging me for who I love. I had friends who weren’t so lucky. Not all of them made it past twenty. I roll my shoulders back and swipe a rogue tear from the corner of my eye.

Right, I’m all cooled down. Time to hit the road.

My phone rings just as I open my car door. Phoenix. I shut the door, lean against the side of the car and answer. “Morning.”

“Hi, Nate. Are you busy?”

“You’ve caught me at the end of my morning run.”