A Road Through Mountains (Love's Encore Book 1) Read online

  Understanding dawned. “And this time they told you not to go through with the wedding?”

  Bailey nodded. “Phinn and I hit it off right away, you know. It was like we were just drawn to each other. And we’d discussed it in private, agreed that if we were the finalists, we’d go all-in, all the way to the altar. I mean, why not?”

  “For a stunt? Or did you really plan on a real marriage?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, we really got along. I’ve never felt like that before, like we were the only two people on earth and we could do anything together, you know?”

  Cecily nodded. “People have gotten married for worse reasons, I suppose.”

  I should know.

  “Plus, there’s all that prize money, right? Anyway, right before the final show, Jonas and the producer told me I should do a ‘runaway bride’ instead. Ratings gold, they said. They swore they’d arranged it, that Phinn had agreed. Only, they lied. He had no idea when he showed up at the chapel that day that I wouldn’t be there. I didn’t even know what happened until the show aired a week later, and by then he’d married Janessa during the finale, and it was too late!” Her words ended in a wailing sob.

  Cecily reached over, sliding an arm around Bailey’s trembling shoulders. She held her as the young woman sobbed, soothing her with words that were mostly nonsensical but comforting. After a few minutes, Bailey’s crying subsided. She sat up straight and dabbed her eyes with a tissue that Cecily retrieved from her purse. Tyler was always teasing her about her giant ‘mom purse’, but she was grateful for it now.

  “You’d fallen in love with him, hadn’t you?” Cecily asked, though the answer was obvious. She noted Bailey’s youthful face for a second time and her heart ached for her. “Do you mind if I ask how old you are, Bailey?”

  “I’m twenty-two,” she replied with a sniff. “I know what you’re thinking, that I’m so young. But I’m old enough to know when I’ve made a mistake.”

  Oh, the mistakes we make when we’re twenty-two and in love. And then regret for a lifetime.

  “The others are waiting outside,” Cecily reminded her gently. “Are you ready for them to come back in?”

  Bailey nodded. “I think so. Only, will you sit up here next to me? I can’t stand the thought of being up here alone with all of them. They hate me. But you don’t, do you?” Her eyes were hopeful, pleading. “You understand, right?”

  “Of course,” Cecily nodded. If anyone could understand what it felt like to betray the love of your life, Cecily could.

  10

  “Cecily?”

  Rehearsal had just ended and Cecily was digging through her purse for her keys when she heard Bailey call her name. Looking up, she spotted the young woman standing by the entrance to the lunchroom, and went to join her.

  “Thank you for today,” Bailey said. “For staying and sitting with me. I know you weren’t planning to be here the whole afternoon, and I really appreciate it.”

  Cecily nodded. “Any time.”

  “Do you really mean it, any time?” Bailey asked, her eyes brightening. “Because I wish you could stay all day from now on. I felt so much calmer knowing I had a friend.”

  Cecily hesitated. The arrangement Susan had offered her was to sit in on rehearsals in the mornings and then spend the rest of her time in the scene shop. But Bailey was so desperate for her support that Cecily didn’t think she’d have the heart to abandon her every afternoon. She seemed to have a calming effect on the girl, transforming her from a diva to a relatively decent human in a matter of hours, for which the entire cast was grateful. Besides which, her most recent falling out with Rorie left Cecily more than a little anxious at the prospect of venturing back to the shop.

  “You really think it’ll help?”

  “I know it will,” Bailey replied, her expression that of a puppy begging for a treat. “It already has, and I don’t want to keep flying off the handle. It’s just, have you ever been with someone where you can’t seem to help yourself? Whether you love them or hate them, it’s all just so intense you couldn’t stop yourself if you tried, and neither can they?”

  Immediately, blue eyes and cinnamon freckles flashed into Cecily’s mind, and the image made her chuckle in spite of herself. That described Rorie and her in a nutshell.

  “You think I’m just a stupid kid, don’t you?” Bailey said with a pout.

  “Not at all. Actually, I went through something similar, in a way, when I was the same age as you. And I still can’t make much sense of it.”

  Bailey’s face clouded. “Really? I was hoping this would all blow over soon, but you’re not making that sound very likely. And in the meantime, I’m getting death threats.”

  Cecily’s eyes widened. “Death threats? Not from Phinn, surely!”

  Bailey sighed. “No. From Phinn’s loyal supporters. Mostly by email, but there was one on a notecard in my dressing room this morning.”

  “That’s crazy! Does Susan know about this?”

  “My agent says Susan is hiring an extra security guard, but there’s only so much they can do. At least it might keep people from standing around the stage door, yelling at me every day.” She shrugged. “It’s not like it hasn’t been happening for the past six months, but it’s worse since Phinn is here, I think.”

  “And what about Phinn?” Cecily asked. From what she'd seen today, he appeared to be a nice young man, level headed and respectful, despite Bailey’s antics. “Surely if he knew this was going on, he could say something to his fans?”

  Bailey shook her head. “No. I mean, I’m sure he could, but I just can’t bring myself to talk to him about it.”

  “Bailey, be reasonable,” Cecily urged. “No matter what happened between the both of you, he wouldn’t want anything serious to happen.”

  “You don’t know that. He might, after what I did. Whatever happens, I deserve it.”

  “I know it feels that way, Bailey. I really do. I’ve been through this, too.” Cecily paused for a moment, weighing whether she should say more. The past wasn’t something she talked about, but it was clear that Bailey was struggling and could use help. She drew a deep breath and continued. “My last semester in college, I fell in love with—someone. And I let what other people wanted influence me. And just like you, I ran.” Tears stung the corners of her eyes and she squeezed them shut to hold them back. “Let me give you a bit of advice. This is your second chance. If I were you, I’d take it.”

  “Is that what you did?” Bailey asked. “Did you work it out in the end?”

  “No, I never had that chance. But you do. Take it, or you’ll regret it the rest of your life.”

  As she walked to her car, Cecily thought of Rorie. Would things have turned out differently if they’d been reunited sooner, been given a second chance? She doubted it. The world had been a different place, and there were too many obstacles for it to ever have worked. Not the least of which Cecily had created herself by marrying Chet before Rorie ever had the chance to come after her. Had she been so inclined, which obviously she hadn’t been. It was pointless to speculate.

  Could this be our second chance now?

  Cecily wasn’t sure where that thought had come from, but she dismissed it immediately. She was married and a mother. She’d made her choice. Even if her marriage was more a business arrangement and her only child was nearly an adult, it didn’t change the situation. Besides, Rorie had everything she’d dreamed of. The last thing she’d be interested in was a suburban mom whose greatest accomplishments revolved around how many raffle tickets she sold for the PTO auction. Cecily sincerely hoped things would work out between Bailey and Phinn, but her own ship had sailed a long time ago.

  * * *

  Rorie spotted Susan standing by the coffee maker as she entered the break room. She eyed the pot with a mixture of desire and suspicion. “Please tell me that’s a fresh pot and not something that’s been sitting on the burner all afternoon.”

  “Well,” Susan answered, examini
ng the pot in an equally questioning manner, “it’s still warm and contains caffeine. Beyond that, I don’t think I can make any promises.”

  Rorie rolled her eyes. “When are you going to invest in one of those single cup machines like everyone else has?”

  “Well, Miss Fancy Pants,” Susan teased, “we don’t all have your big Hollywood budget. Maybe you can hit up your girlfriend Cecily for us, though. Get her to donate one.”

  Rorie groaned at the mention of Cecily. “Don’t even joke about it. If I don’t see her again between now and opening night, I’ll be just as happy.”

  Susan arched an eyebrow. “Oh? I thought you two had reached an understanding.”

  “Hardly,” Rorie replied, remembering their conversation from the day before. That little liar! The fact that she could’ve lead Rorie on for so many months, and made her believe they had a future together in New York—it was galling, even after all these years. When it came to Cecily, any degree of understanding was about the last thing Rorie expected to achieve.

  “Well, then,” Susan said, “I guess you won’t be too disappointed to hear that Mrs. Parker won’t be returning to the shop after all.”

  She quit?

  Rorie stopped stirring her coffee and looked at Susan, feeling a spark of guilt. She’d been angry with Cecily yesterday. It was more than justified, and a long time coming, but maybe she should’ve tried a little harder to keep her temper in check.

  “I’m sorry, Susan. I know we need all the volunteers we can get, but we’ll manage without her. It’s rotten of her to just quit like that, though.”

  “Oh, no. She didn’t quit,” Susan corrected. “She worked a damn miracle, is what she did.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “She did the impossible and tamed the shrew. As of this morning, Bailey and your girlfriend are new BFFs. And I’m pretty certain Bailey’s convinced her to stick with rehearsals full time.”

  “You’re kidding me.” Rorie shook her head slowly. “Well, it figures they’d be friends. Actresses.” Her tone was at least as bitter as the day-old coffee she attempted to choke down. “And I wish you’d stop referring to her as my girlfriend.”

  Susan looked at her sharply. “You’ve certainly changed your tune in twenty-four hours. Just yesterday you were pleading her case, telling me how I had to let her stay in the shop. What happened?”

  Rorie took a deep breath, letting it out in a long, gentle sigh. “I gained some perspective. Let’s just say that it was never a secret that I cared more about her than she did about me, but it’s only just now that I’ve come to appreciate how lopsided the situation truly was.”

  Susan stood quietly for a minute, her face conflicted. “Are you sure of that?” Susan bit her bottom lip as if deciding whether or not to continue. “Because, it’s just… I overheard something earlier.”

  “Susan Monroe! Were you eavesdropping?” Rorie clutched at her heart in mock horror.

  “Not on purpose! Cecily and Bailey happened to be chatting by the doorway a few minutes ago and I don’t think they knew I was here.”

  “Two actresses chit-chatting? What, were they exchanging salon recommendations and hair care tips?”

  “I’m serious,” Susan said, shooting Rorie a frustrated look. “Cecily was encouraging Bailey to take advantage of her second chance and fix things with Phinn. She said she’d fallen in love during college, and ran away. It was obvious from the way she said it that it still tears her apart.”

  I doubt that. “Well, then, she was most definitely talking about someone else. Besides, I’d take her tone with a grain of salt. She’s quite a gifted thespian.”

  “I just think you should give her the benefit of the doubt.”

  “Are you saying that as my friend? Or,” Rorie narrowed her eyes, “is this the Managing Director speaking, afraid to upset Ms. Moneybags?”

  “Joke all you want. I won’t pretend it isn’t a little of both. And I’ll admit I don’t know the whole story, since you’re being so mysterious about it. I’m just suggesting that maybe you don’t know the whole story, either.”

  Rorie chugged the last of her coffee with a grimace before heading back to her office. She didn’t have time to think about Cecily now. Today’s production meeting had yielded three pages of notes regarding changes to the set, meaning she had several more hours of work ahead of her. Back in LA she’d probably pack everything up and do the work from her cozy home office with its view of the twinkling Westwood skyline. But her room at the medium-range extended stay hotel, which she knew was probably much better accommodation than the theater would usually spring for as it was, was a little too cheerless to spend more time in than necessary.

  As she waited for the drafting program she used to create design schematics to open on her computer, she was hit with a wave of exhaustion. She never slept well when she was away from home. Rorie closed her eyes, pressing her hands gently against the pile of thin braids on top her head. If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up with a migraine. Her therapist had taught her a new meditation technique to manage them, and she closed her eyes to give it a try. Focus on a place where I feel safe and happy. She’d practiced it at her therapist’s office with some success, visualizing the relaxing oasis of her bedroom at home. She closed her eyes, waiting for the neutral colors of her room to fill her mind.

  Instead, another bedroom came into focus, full of sweet pastels that only a sorority girl would choose. It was a room she hadn’t seen in eighteen years. It was so vivid that she wanted to open her eyes and erase it from her memory, but she couldn’t quite manage to do so. Instead, the image drew her in and she entered the imaginary room, stretching herself out on its make-believe, throw pillow festooned bed. She breathed deeply and could almost smell the lavender scent of the sheets and feel their fabric slip past her fingertips, silky and smooth.

  Lost in her vision, she stared at the imaginary ceiling, her hands by her sides. She wanted to turn her head—would she see Cecily beside her, smiling as she watched her sleep? If she reached out her hand, would she feel the warmth of Cecily’s skin? Or would the bed be cold and empty, like it had been that last morning?

  Rorie’s eyes flew open, wrenched from her visualization by the memory, by the cold stab of abandonment and loneliness that accompanied it. It hurt almost as much now as it had then, and Rorie knew she should leave it alone, push it back into the recesses of her mind as she had done for years. There was no sense dwelling on it. But that moment of hope and elation, that second before reality sank in, beckoned to her. Just to experience again the joy of turning her head and seeing Cecily beside her was tantalizing, even if it was just a distant memory. A memory she’d have little chance of getting neatly back into its box tonight.

  Rorie sighed, frustrated by her own weakness. She wished she’d never accepted the job in Connecticut. She could be on a real vacation right now, relaxing on a beach somewhere. She wished she'd never seen Cecily again, never been reminded of all the good times they’d shared and how effortlessly they’d fit together. She wished the next eight weeks were over and she was on a plane heading west.

  And she wished she never had to leave.

  11

  Cecily sprinted toward the scene shop doors, checking her watch. The morning rehearsal had run late and she’d missed Tyler’s class arriving. Knowing how desperate Susan had been for her to agree to be Bailey’s understudy, Cecily had somewhat uncharacteristically taken advantage of having the upper hand. She’d secured an invitation for not only Tyler but his entire English class to do a backstage tour and sit in on a read-through of A Streetcar Named Desire with the cast.

  If she were completely honest, she'd have to admit that she’d mainly done it to make Polly Schroeder furious. The Oakwood never hosted school groups, and she knew Polly had tried and failed for years to arrange something like this. It was the one time where even being a patron donor didn’t make a difference. But apparently gaining a reputation as the Diva Whisperer was a different stor
y. Of course, if anyone asked, she had only the children's best interests at heart.

  The shop was unusually quiet when she entered. Regular work had stopped and about two dozen teenagers listened as Susan pointed out the various machines. Cecily felt a stab of guilt at having saddled Susan with the responsibility all on her own. Poor Susan. She looked slightly terrified. She probably wasn't used to being around teenage boys the way Cecily was. Still, that's what she got for forcing Cecily to continue in the role of understudy against her wishes. They would both need to face their fears.

  As the group filed out of the shop, Cecily spotted Tyler standing apart from the crowd. She started toward him and her breath caught as she saw who he was talking to. Rorie. They'd barely said two words to each other since their confrontation in the rehearsal hall, and Cecily didn't look forward to the prospect now. But she could hardly let her son leave the shop without saying hello. Rorie and Tyler appeared to be having an animated conversation. Cecily approached them, apprehension gnawing at her insides.

  “Tyler?” She hoped her voice sounded more confident than she felt. The last thing she wanted was for Rorie to sense the weakness in her.

  “Mom!” The gawky boy turned, a broad grin lighting up his face. “Mom, have you met Rorie Mulloy? She's like a total Hollywood legend!”

  Cecily couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm, and her apprehension lessened a tiny bit. “Yes. We've met.”

  “She's worked with everybody,” he continued as his smile grew impossibly large. “Tim Burton. Ang Le. Oh, and she's on my list!”

  “What list?”

  “The Academy Award winner list, remember? I told you I had a list of people I wanted to meet someday. She's one of them!”