Round & Ravishing

Chapter 1-2

Ten minutes later my mom was out the door and I was finishing up with the guy I’d been helping. One of those who had no idea what he wanted for the woman he was taking out on a date. He’d gotten her daisies on their first date and said he thought she liked them, but it was date two so he was stepping things up.

He wanted roses.

Thankfully I talked him into irises.

“Are you sure she’s going to like these?”

I smiled and nodded, hoping he wouldn’t see the irritation I was trying to hide. “Of course. They’re beautiful flowers. I think roses would be too much for a second date. That’s what you send your wife on Valentine’s Day or carry in your wedding. Roses bring too much expectation to a second date.”

He looked a little disappointed but didn’t argue. I handed him back his card and thanked him, hoping Mom would be around to help him if he got a third date.

“How can I help you?” I asked the remaining customer.

He smiled, a warm, friendly smile, then glanced at the door. His dark eyes sparkled when he looked at me again. “That guy isn’t getting a third date.”

A bubble of laughter broke free before I could stop it. “Sorry.”

He shook his head and stepped closer. “Nothing to be sorry for. You know it’s the truth. If a man has to bring flowers to a date, he’d already trying too hard.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think flowers are a kind gesture.”

“But a little old-fashioned. You seem like a modern, feminist sort. The kind of woman who would appreciate being impressed with something a whole lot flashier than a bouquet of flowers.”

I shrugged. His comments hit a little too close to home. After working in a floral shop most of my life, flowers had lost their appeal. But I knew I was in the minority. “I think we all have a duty to impress the person we’re dating. If we stop impressing them, the relationship falls apart. It doesn’t always have to be flashy though. Simple things can show how you feel.”

“Like a nice dinner.”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

“Maybe a night on the town.”

His dark brows lifted in suggestion, making me wonder if he really was hitting on me. He was cute. Dark hair cut short. Broad shoulders. A leather jacket that was worn but definitely not cheap. Jeans that hugged him very well. A night out with him might not be such a bad thing, but I snickered. “Not much of a town around here.”

He nodded. “True. Maybe a quiet night in. A favorite old movie?”

“I like movies,” I said with a grin. There was no way he could know watching old movies with my mom was part of what made me want to become an actress. Once I realized the women in movies got to play different roles, be different people, and they weren’t true stories of their lives, I fell in love with the screen. With the chance to be someone else. To do something else every day.

“I’m a big fan of movies. I especially enjoy the ones no one else watches. The ones only a select few ever see. It makes me feel like I’m getting a secret peek into another person. Like I know you better than the people who talk to you every day but don’t ever watch your movies.”

Tingles ran up my neck. Did he know who I was? That I used to act? Was there a chance he was a stalker and followed me out to Winterville? If he left California to find me in New York, I needed to get rid of him as quickly as possible. “Sure. Um, sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Is there something I can help you with?”

He stepped even closer, close enough that he could touch me if he wanted to. I was suddenly very aware of the fact that we were completely alone.

“I actually came here to talk to you, Tara.”

“How do you know my name?”

He shrugged. “A lot of people know your name. You were never very good about hiding who you were.”

“What do you want?” I asked, fear and anxiety swirling in my gut and making me feel sick. Maybe if I threw up on him he wouldn’t attack me.

I backed up to the counter and worked my way around it, putting something solid between us. If he lunged, I’d have a few seconds to figure something out.

Like where in the hell were our shears?

“I’m not here to hurt you, Tara.”

“Isn’t that what all murderers say?”

He laughed. Damn him for having a sexy laugh. Men as creepy as him shouldn’t be allowed to be hot. It would be a shame to have to ruin his face, or his leather jacket, if he tried to hurt me.

“Honestly, I’ve never met a murderer. At least,” he paused and tapped his chin with his index finger, “I don’t think I have. I just came here to talk to you.”

“About dating?” I asked, not buying his act for one more second. The only thing I couldn’t figure out was what he wanted from me. Or why.

He laughed again but didn’t move closer. “Well, dating is one topic I’d be interested in discussing with you. You could tell me a little about your dating history.”

“Why do you care?”

He shrugged, failing to appear indifferent. “I’m a curious person.”

“A lot of people are curious. I don’t know anything about you. Why would I tell you anything about me?”

He extended his hand and waited for me to shake it. When I did, he squeezed my palm gently, but let go. Thank God. “I’m Thomas Hinson. I’m a big fan of your movies. I really hated that that asshole ran you out of town. I was looking forward to seeing you on the big screen one day.”

I shook my head. “I was never meant for the big screen.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted? I read an interview you did a few years ago that said you were hoping to grab a spot in a big movie. A spot that would make you a household name.”

I shrugged. “Maybe once upon a time. It’s not meant for me. I wasn’t willing to do what it took to make it in Hollywood.”

“Like the surgeries and the nudity?”

“Among other things,” I said, hoping he didn’t know all the things I did when I first started in Hollywood. The things that made me feel sick, but I did them because I thought that was how you had to be.

“Patrick was willing to do whatever it took though. That’s how he got his first hit, right?”

“It’s different for directors. He’s not on-screen.”

Thomas shrugged. “He has to give interviews.”

“Yeah, but not everyone is going to see an interview. Hopefully they’ll all see a movie.”

“I think everyone saw a copy of Patrick’s last interview. Even though it was only an online magazine. They said a picture is worth a thousand words, right?”

I shrugged, wondering why Thomas cared what I thought about Patrick’s interview. “I guess. I haven’t seen it.”

Eyebrows spiked high into his hair. “Really? You didn’t see it?”

I shook my head. “No. Why would I care what Patrick is up to? We’ve been over for a long time and I’m not in the industry anymore.”

“That may be the case, but you’re definitely still news. Especially when Patrick shared nude photos of you online.”

“Excuse me?” I whispered, shocked and horrified and hopeful the guy was lying.

He laughed. The sound I found sexy just minutes earlier became predatory and frightening. “You really didn’t know, did you? You were always so high and mighty with your nudity clauses. Never wanted anyone to see you n***d. And instead, your picture is posted all over the internet compliments of your ex who rose to fame after he dumped you. This is rich! I can’t believe I’m the first one to find you.”

“Get out!” I yelled. “Get the f**k out of here!”

He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t think so. I have every right to be here. And I doubt your mom would be too happy if she found out you threw me out when I was just trying to order some flowers.”

I grabbed the shears and stepped out from behind the counter. “I said get out. Now. You will not stand here and threaten me.”

“Whoa!” He backed up. “Don’t stab me.”

“Don’t threaten me.”

He chuckled and moved toward the door. “I’ve always hoped I’d get the chance to meet you. Your movies really were great to watch. Especially Trapped. That was my favorite.”

I cringed. Bile rose in my throat. My palms were sweaty. My neck hurt from my attempt to keep my s**t together. My knuckles were white. He needed to get out.

I moved forward again, keeping the shears pointed at him. “Get out.”

He threw up his hands and laughed again. “Okay, I’m gone. But I’ll be back Tara Fisher. You can’t hide from me.”