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“I hear they’ve got Sam’s video in one room.”

“I don’t care,” Sam says bravely. “Tray and I have talked about it. We’re making another video this Christmas Eve. To finish what we started last year. Let them show it to whoever they want. My secret is out and I’ve come to accept my condition for what it is. A challenge to be overcome, not a disability to be afraid of. They have no power over me now.”

I love my sister.

“Were you invited, Vaughn?” Felicity asks.

I shake my head no. “I would never go see that filth. Even in disguise.”

I look over at Grace, but her gaze is difficult to read. I take that as disinterest and quickly move the conversation into neutral territory so everyone will drop the talk of the Black Bash. But my mind is not at ease. That party is tomorrow night. And I’ve already been warned several times that there’s something big brewing.

I swallow down the guilt for my actions all those years ago and put on my stage smile.

I’m an actor. It’s what I do.

So I act happy.

We finish dinner and take dessert outside in the children’s tent so we can watch the annual family talent show. Grace sits in my lap, her head on my chest as countless nieces and nephews play instruments, sing songs, act out parts of their favorite TV shows, and generally act silly.

The servers come around with more coffee and I lean into Grace’s ear to ask if she’d like more, but her breathing is deep and even. She fell asleep.

I scoop her up in my arms, say goodbye to my mother and aunts as I pass, and then get her in the car before she ever wakes up.

“What’s happening?” she asks as I pull the seatbelt across her lap.

“Time for bed, princess.” I shut her door and walk around to my side and get in.

“But I never said thank you.”

“You don’t have to, Grace.” I stroke my hand down her cheek and she closes her eyes automatically. “It’s Thanksgiving. Everyone is thankful.”

She falls back asleep before we make it out of the driveway and when we get home, it is my pleasure to strip off all her clothes and tuck her into bed next to me.

She stirs a little when I pull her close so she can rest her head on my chest. “You know what I’m really thankful for, Asher?”

God, I love when she calls me Asher these days. I used to think she said it to be mean, but that’s not why. She calls me Asher because she can. No one else, anywhere, calls me Asher. To my face, at least. Only Grace knows me well enough to use that moniker.

“Me, of course.” I play with her.

“Yes, you,” she says in her I’m-almost-asleep voice. “And I’m thankful for second chances.”

“Yeah.” I laugh under my breath. “I’ve certainly needed my share of those.”

She sits up a little and she’s more awake now. “I’ve learned something very important since all this crazy stuff happened.”

“What’s that, babe?”

“You don’t always get it right the first time.”

I stare at her eyes as they pool with tears and my heart feels like it might crack in half, that’s how much it hurts me to see her sadness. So many things went wrong this year for her. The kidnapping. The miscarriage. The media discovering her alias. Which one is she thinking of now?

I scoot down under the covers with her and hold her closer. “If I had known he would take you that night, Grace—”

“That’s not it, Vaughn. I actually think that do-over was… cathartic. In a way,” she adds hastily. “I mean, I don’t want to ever repeat it again. But it helped me confront so many things that I was hiding from all these years. No, the do-over I need is our marriage.”

I stop breathing. What does that mean? She stays quiet, like I’m expected to say something. I think it through for a few moments and then give it my best shot. “I can’t tell you what happened, Grace.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Won’t. I explained the other night. It was perfect. It can’t be explained with words. Maybe if we had a video, but not with words.”

“But you still want to get married again?”

“Do you?”

“I asked you first.”

I huff out some air because I want to be truthful with her. But how will she take it? “I wouldn’t mind a party, like my father offered. That would be nice. And I was thinking that a new ceremony would be nice. Make it a huge affair. With hundreds of guests and a new dress. The works. But I’ve changed my mind.” I look over at her and she’s stunned. Her eyes are wide and her mouth is open. “I’m sorry, sweets. I don’t want a new ceremony. It was perfect the first time and I’m sorry you missed it.”

Chapter Sixteen

#ANewHope

W
HEN
I wake up I’m still reeling from Vaughn’s admission last night. He does not want to marry me again. He has not even given me a ring. After all these months, I have no ring. What does this mean?

I roll over, ready to wake his ass up so I can ask him, but the bed is empty.

I sit up. “Vaughn?”

“In here, babe.” He comes out of his closet buttoning up his shirtsleeves.

“Where are you going?”

He walks over and leans down to kiss my cheek. “Work. We have a few scenes to get done today. We’re behind schedule, so we have to make it up. But after today, I’m all yours for two days.” He grins at me like this is acceptable.

“But it’s a holiday.”

“Yeah, Black Friday doesn’t really count, sweets. I’ll probably be very late, so don’t wait up.”

And then he grabs his watch and wallet off his dresser and walks out.

Black Friday is the day of the Black Bash. And he said don’t wait up? He’s never said that to me before. I wait until I hear his Porsche roar to life in the garage and then get up and run down the hallway to check and make sure he’s gone.

I open the door that leads to the garage and peek in.

Yup. Gone. Just like that I’m left at home alone all day.

I slam the door closed. Asshole. I should get my credit card and go shopping on Rodeo Drive, that’s what I should do. Spend all his money.

I walk back to the living room and spy the door to Asher’s office cracked open with the light on. I push it open all the way and realize he was in here this morning. What time did he get up? I didn’t even hear him, I was dead-ass tired.

I walk around to his desk and take a seat, then flick the mouse until the monitor comes on.

His calendar. Hmm. Attached to a Gmail account I don’t recognize. Double hmmm.

I knew that account with five messages from Larry was not his real email. But why is he hiding this one?

Grace
, the gracious inner-me scolds.
Since when does he have to declare email accounts
? I mean, I have several email accounts. That’s just what happens as you grow up. You make one, then another, then another. And pretty soon, you’ve got a collection of them.

This one references his years as the Disney sitcom star.

Triple hmmmm. In fact, red flags are going up all over the place. I scroll through the
from
column and it does not take me long to realize this email is pretty much a private one he only shares with Valencia. His co-star from back in the day and his co-star right now for
IM3
.

I open up the most recent one.

“Your wish is my command,” is all it says. There’s two attachments. One is a picture of the two of them as teenagers dressed up as genies for… something. Halloween? A special show? I have no idea.

But the other one is a forwarded message. Subject line:
Invitation Plus One Black Bash

She got them tickets to the Black Bash. The very party he said he’d never attend just yesterday. And the ‘your wish is my command’ makes it painfully obvious that he was the one who approached her about attending.

Dammit. Vaughn is hiding something from me and it definitely has to do with this party tonight.

I walk out of his office and head straight for the coffee. While it brews, I stew in my own anger. It’s bubbling up around me. Why am I so angry about this? Mostly it’s because I feel left out. I feel like he’s got another life without me. Like when he goes to work, he forgets all about what’s waiting here for him at home.

I sit at the kitchen island bar drinking cup after cup of coffee as I think about this. What should I do? Should I ignore it and let him go to the party and then confront him about it when he gets home? Should I go down to the studio and make sure everything is on the up and up with him and Valencia? Should I use his ticket that Larry sent to go to the Black Bash and figure it out for myself?

My phone rings, startling me out of my introspection, and when I look up at the stove for the time, I realize it’s already past noon. I’ve been sitting here for hours.

The phone rings again, so I reach for it and press accept before looking at the caller. “Hello.”

“Grace,” Kristi says, all out of breath on the other line.

“Kristi! Oh my God, I’m so happy to hear from you! You sound like you’re panting.”

“Well,” she says with a smile—I can totally see that smile—“I’m all out of breath because they just brought me my beautiful baby girl and I’m so excited, I can’t stop my happy cry. And the minute I was able to think, I thought to myself, ‘I need to tell Grace. She’s the best friend I have these days and I need to tell Grace.’”

“Awww.” God, I feel so selfish and awful. I haven’t thought about Kristi in weeks. “I should’ve been there. Do you want me to come now? I can help you out at home if you want.”

The baby makes a little noise and Kristi actually sighs with contentment. I get a stabbing pain of jealousy straight through my heart.

“No, no, no,” she says quickly. “You just stay home and take care of yourself, Kinsella. Or should I call you Asher now?”

Well, that’s the question of the day. “Better stick with Kinsella for now.”

“I’d love for you to visit when you’re ready, but there’s no rush.” The baby starts to cry for real now, and there’s some voices—Johnny and someone else who might be a nurse—telling Kristi she has to hang up. “I gotta go, Grace. But I wanted you to be the first person I called.”

“Wait.” I stop her from hanging up. “What’s her name?”

“Oh, I’m so silly! Of course. Her name is Hope. Hope Blazen.”

“Beautiful,” I sigh.

And then she quickly says goodbye again and ends the call.

Hope.

I think Hope is a very good reason for me to pull myself together and go shopping. So I clean up my mess and go get ready to hand over the credit card.

And an hour later I’m on Rodeo Drive just as I planned, but this time, I’m not shopping out of spite. I’m shopping for Hope.

There are a ton of shops here. And honestly, I’m sure Target would be just as good as these fancy boutiques, but they’ve got a Tiffany’s down here and I want to look around.

I give the car to the valet and that’s where I start my afternoon. I head straight to the rings. I know, I’m just punishing myself. He hasn’t mentioned a ring to me, and he just said last night we’re not getting remarried, so why bother?

But I’m a princess and I have a dream. And maybe a wedding was not a part of that dream originally, but it is now. And weddings come with rings.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Asher. Can I help you find something specific today?”

Jesus Christ. They know me. I just stare at her. I’m shocked. I’m not sure why, I know my face has been on the news a lot this year, but holy fucking shit. A clerk in a Tiffany’s should not recognize me when I’m in shorts and flip flops.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, as I back away and slide my sunglasses down to cover my eyes. “You have the wrong person.”

The clerk’s smile never falters. “I’m so sorry, miss. My mistake. How can I help you?”

But I’m already out of there.

Fuck this.

I walk straight back to the valet and they greet me as Mrs. Asher as well. “I just need my car, thank you.”

A few minutes later they bring it around and the inside is still cool from the air-conditioning, that’s how short my Rodeo Drive shopping trip was.