“Why?” Chris wants to know. “Why can’t you just enjoy what you have without running yourself ragged?”

  “Because what I have is a lot of alone time. Too much alone time. The busier I am, the happier I am,” she declares honestly.

  Chris shakes her head. “If this is the way you need to adjust to life without Tom, then go for it. I’ll help in any way I can.”

  “Good, because I have an idea,” Ruby says.

  James

  “Hank, I’m home!” I call out as soon as I walk into my house.

  “Up here,” comes the quick reply from my plumber.

  I run up the stairs to find several workers piled into my bathroom. Hank walks through the crowd like Moses parting the Red Sea and meets me in the hallway. “Are you sure you’ve got the money to go through with this? The insides of your walls are a mess.” He shakes his head to emphasize the horror show that is my home.

  “I’ve got it,” I tell him. I deposited a fat check from the Tattler right after Tara’s and my last interview. “I can give you a check before I leave if you want.”

  “Oh, I want,” he tells me. Then he asks, “Have you picked out your paint colors, flooring, tile, and fixtures yet?”

  I shake my head. “I’ve been a little preoccupied. How soon do you need them?”

  “I figure we’ll have the Sheetrock guy here the week after Thanksgiving, so pretty close to then.”

  I run my hands through my hair. “Okay. That doesn’t give me much time, but I’ll get right on it.”

  “Where’s your pooch?” Hank wants to know.

  “She’s spending the day with her grandma.” If the way my mom treats that dog is any indication of how she’s going to be with her grandchildren, those will be some lucky kids.

  Before I leave my house, I inventory the rest of the things I want to have done. I call my old high school friend Buckie, who’s a contractor in town, and make an appointment with him for the kitchen. Hank doesn’t do kitchens. He claims nothing good comes from him being in a room where food is prepared. Bathrooms, on the other hand, are productive places for him. I didn’t ask for particulars, because ew.

  I’m so preoccupied thinking about Tara on the way back to the lodge that I barely remember driving there. After parking, I walk through the lobby doors and run smack into Syd Byerly.

  The guy doesn’t bother with a greeting. He demands, “Did you tell Tara I was looking for her?” His demeanor is as pleasant as a hornet attack.

  “I gave her your card. If you haven’t heard from her, it’s probably because she doesn’t want to talk to you,” I tell him while I try to maneuver around him.

  “Romaine is checking into the lodge tonight,” he says bluntly.

  “Here? At the Willamette Valley Lodge?” To say I’m shocked would be an understatement.

  He nods his head. “Yeah, here. It’s why I want to talk to Tara.”

  I’m not sure what to do. I feel like I should warn her ahead of time, but I also feel like I should take Syd up to her room and finally bring them face-to-face. “Why is he coming here?”

  “He doesn’t know Tara’s here, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Then why is he coming?” I repeat.

  He shrugs. “Romaine and I have been on the outs for a couple of months now. I’m still working for him, but ever since he took up with that Cash Cartwright, he’s been a nightmare. We limit our communication to business.”

  “Why do you want to warn Tara that Romaine is coming?” I ask.

  “Because I’m afraid he’s going to do something stupid and ruin the release of his new album.”

  “What do you mean, stupid?” Fear starts to crawl up the base of my neck like a million little pinpricks.

  “Buddy, I’m not telling you anything. I want to see Tara.”

  I quickly consider my options, before saying, “Follow me. I’m heading up to her room now.”

  With Syd at my heels, we make quick work of getting to the elevator. We say nothing as we travel to the third floor. When we arrive at Tara’s room, I insert the keycard and wait for the light to turn green. It stays red.

  I move over to my room and try to access her room from the connecting door, but I can’t because the door is locked on her side. What’s going on here?

  If Tara hadn’t been distant all morning I wouldn’t be worried. As it is, I start to sweat under the collar. I pick up the landline in my room and call down to the front desk to ask what happened to the occupant of room three twenty-seven. The desk clerk tells me she checked out earlier today.

  The plan was for Tara to stay in the hotel until after the first article came out. I know she was getting stir crazy, but I thought she agreed to stay put so she could have some control over how the truth of her identity would be disclosed.

  I turn to Syd Byerly and say, “She’s gone. She checked out.”

  “Then I’ll just go over to her house.” He sounds as annoyed as I feel.

  He doesn’t wait for me, he just bolts. I take my phone out of my pocket and send a text to Tara: Syd is on his way over to your house. Where are you? Why did you leave?

  I wait two minutes for her to respond and when I still don’t hear from her, I dial her number and call her. It goes straight to voicemail.

  The only thing to do is to follow Syd to Tara’s house. I take the stairs, reasoning that I might be able to beat him there if I speed through town. I need to protect Tara. While Syd is claiming he’s being a good guy by warning her of Romaine’s impending arrival, I still can’t help but distrust the guy.

  The only problem is I can’t get through the crowd in the lobby. There must be ten different reporters along with their camera crews filling the space. I scan the area to see why they’re here and that’s when I see him. Romaine Choate, in the flesh.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Gwen

  After putting the phone on speaker, Gwen dials Ruby’s number before pulling her car away from the curb. Tara said she didn’t need her to accompany her to the lodge, but her mothering instincts have kicked into overdrive.

  “Hey, Gwen, what’s up?” Ruby asks.

  “Tara checked out of the hotel and came home. She’s on her way back to tell everyone who she is.”

  “She was supposed to stay in her room until after Thanksgiving.” Ruby sounds panicked.

  “She said she was going nuts being cooped up and she didn’t see the point in waiting. Now that the articles in the Tattler are coming out, I guess she wanted to face the music ahead of time.”

  “Gwen,” Ruby starts to say before releasing an agonizing groan. “Romaine Choate is checking into the hotel today.”

  “What? Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I was going to, but I was waiting until the kids were done with their interviews. I didn’t want to distract them with bad news.”

  Gwen’s foot automatically pushes down on the accelerator. “I’m on my way right now. Try to find Tara and warn her if you can.”

  “I’ll head straight to the kitchen,” Ruby tells her. “Hurry up, Gwen. I’m afraid I may have made a mess of everything.”

  Tara

  It feels great walking around the hotel again. I consider calling my mom and having her meet me here for dinner. We haven’t spent nearly the amount of time together we should have with her staying at my place and me hiding out at the lodge.

  I head toward the great room figuring I can call her from there and enjoy a glass of wine while I wait for her. The only problem is, I can’t get to the great room. There’s a crush of people blocking the way. I look closer and realize they’re not just people, they’re reporters. What in the fresh hell? How have they found me already? Rachel’s first article about us doesn’t come out until tomorrow.

  Yet no one appears to be looking for me, they’re focused on someone else. I can’t see who because whoever it is, is surrounded by reporters. That’s when I spot James. I know when he sees me because he starts to make wild hand gestures for me to back up.

  I turn around and hurry down the hallway leading to the ballroom and sneak into the public restroom when my phone pings.

  James: Meet me in my truck behind the lodge. Hurry!

  Running through the hallways like my pants are on fire, I don’t stop to turn around to see if I’m being pursued. Once I hit the parking lot, I jump into the cab of James’s pickup and keep my head down so no one can see me. Moments later, I peek over the dashboard and spot James jogging across the parking lot.

  He opens the door and announces, “You are not going to believe what’s happening.”

  I wait a beat for him to continue. When he’s not fast enough, I demand, “What’s happening?”

  “Romaine is checking in to the lodge.”

  “Not this lodge?” How can that be?

  “Syd Byerly told me. We were on our way to find you when we saw the media circus in reception.”

  My head starts to whirl like I’m inside a washing machine during the spin cycle. “Where is Syd now?”

  “He was going to go to your house. According to him, the two of them have been on the outs since Romaine and Cash started dating.” James turns over the ignition and pulls out of the parking space.

  “Syd was going to warn me that Romaine had found me?” I practically stammer. “He could have just told my mom that one of the many times he went to her house.”

  “You’d think,” James says as he veers off the main road into the woods.

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “I’m going to take you up to my uncle Billy’s place. With the lodge crawling with reporters, I think it’s the safest place to take you.”

  He’s got a point. I don’t trust Syd Byerly as far as I can throw him. There’s something more going on than he’s copping to or he wouldn’t have come all this way just to tell me that Romaine had found me. I certainly can’t go to my house with Syd going there. James’s farm has been compromised as well.

  I pick up my phone to send my mom a text to let her know where I am, but I don’t have any bars. “I can’t get ahold of my mom.”

  “I’ll drop you off with Billy and then drive back and send both of our moms a text,” James replies. We ride the rest of the way in silence.

  James turns left up a narrower road and we bump along like kernels in a popcorn popper. He passes one cabin that looks like it’s in the middle of renovations and then continues down the makeshift road until we arrive at another. After putting the truck into park and turning off the ignition, he announces, “This is Uncle Billy’s place.”

  “What if he’s not here?” I ask. “We can’t just go in.”

  James ignores my question and runs around the truck to open my door for me. I take his hand and let him help me down. “Are you okay?” he asks gently.

  I shake my head. “I don’t know. I mean, why in the world is Romaine here? It makes no sense.”

  “You could call him,” James suggests.

  “I’m not calling him while he’s in the middle of a press conference. I might call him later though.” I quickly decide I’ll definitely call him later and demand why he won’t leave me alone.

  James’s uncle walks out his front door and holds up a hand in greeting. “Hey there.”

  “Uncle Billy,” James says. “I brought a friend to meet you.” He motions toward me and says, “This is Tara, she’s the new pastry chef at the lodge.”

  Billy steps forward with his hand out. “Your mom has told me all about you. I’m pleased to know you.”

  I shake his hand. “I’m surprised I haven’t met you down at the lodge before.”

  “I mostly stay up in the woods,” he says before adding, “Although James here has brought me some of your pastries and I have to say, I’m a huge fan.”

  I can see why mom likes this man. He radiates a lovely energy. “I’ll have to bring some things up to you myself, now that I know where your place is,” I tell him.

  Billy smiles radiantly. “I wouldn’t say no to that.”

  “I’m going down to the lodge to send a text to Gwen and my mom to let them know where we are,” James says.

  “Give me the keys to your truck.” Billy reaches his hand out. “I’ll go and you kids can settle in up here. There’s coffee in the cabinet and a plate of cookies on the counter. Make yourselves at home.” As soon as he’s gone, James turns to me and says, “We need to talk.”

  Chapter Forty

  Ruby

  Pushing her way into reception, Ruby sidles up next to Chris. “It’s on like Donkey Kong.”

  Chris shakes her head. “That wasn’t even a good saying in the eighties.”

  “What are we supposed to do with all of these reporters here? They’re going to inconvenience our guests.”

  Chris opens the drawer under her computer and says, “Watch this.” She puts a whistle to her lips and blows it, loudly. Everyone within earshot turns to see what the commotion is all about. She announces, “Everyone who is not a guest of this hotel needs to leave the building right now!”

  When there’s not a mass exodus, she adds, “If Mr. Choate wants to talk to you, he’ll do so out front.” Nobody makes a move to leave.

  “What the …” Chris starts to mumble when someone interrupts her by yelling out, “This is public property lady. You can’t throw us out of here.”

  Ruby takes over and announces, “It is not public property. This is my lodge, it is private property. If you aren’t a guest here and you are not here to dine or have a spa service, then you’re loitering, and I can most definitely throw you out. Who wants to cross me?”

  Romaine speaks up next. “I’ll be happy to chat with you all out front. I’ll make a statement as soon as everyone leaves the building.”

  As the throng turns to follow his instructions, Romaine approaches Ruby. “I’m really sorry about this. I have no idea who tipped them off that I’d be here, but it wasn’t me.”

  Ruby eyes the rock star, actively trying to discern if he’s telling the truth. She decides he probably is before answering, “We aren’t equipped to deal with a commotion like this, Mr. Choate, and I don’t want my other guests disturbed.”

  He nods his head. “You’re right. It isn’t fair to you or them. I’ll do my best to keep them outside. If I can’t control them, I promise to hire additional security.”

  Ruby mumbles under her breath, “Why did you come here?”

  Romaine gives her a questioning glance before walking out the front door to talk to the paparazzi.

  James

  I take Tara’s hand and pull her along into Uncle Billy’s cabin. The place looks exactly like the glamping brochure its pictures were used for. I lead Tara to the kitchen table and pull out a chair for her. “Sit down and I’ll pour us some coffee.”

  “James,” she starts to say, but must think better of it because she doesn’t continue.

  I pour the coffee and put a cup down in front of her. Deciding to ignore the whole Romaine situation for the moment, I ask, “What’s going on with you today? You were downright weird during our interview with Rachel this morning.”

  She releases a pent-up breath before answering, “I’m not sure Rachel buys our being a couple.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because she said as much after our shoot at the falls.”

  “Really?” I mean, what else can I say? We were faking it.

  With her elbows on the table, she rests her head in her hands and continues, “I told her we were taking things slowly, that I didn’t want to ruin anything between us by rushing into something too quickly.”

  “What do you think she’s going to do with that information?”

  She shrugs. “Who knows? I thought she understood and would be cool with it, but what if her meeting with us was all a setup for whatever comes next?”

  “What do you mean by that?” Panic pushes its way up my throat.

  “For some inexplicable reason, Romaine is here. What if Rachel knew he was coming and was trying to trap me into something?”

  “Trap you into what? You’ve already broken up with the guy.”

  She shrugs her shoulders. “Who knows? Maybe they want pictures of us together. Maybe they’re hoping for a reconciliation. The press is notorious for manipulating stories so they can tell the version they think will sell more papers. And after handing over so much money to talk to us, they’re going to be very motivated to sell papers.”

  Why did I take that money? It felt wrong doing it, but I figured I was going to help Tara either way, so why not get something out of it for myself? And by that, I mean my plumbing. “Maybe you should call Rachel and talk to her,” I suggest.

  “James, I know this all seems insane to you, but during the three years I spent with Romaine the press up was in our business every chance they got. They flew over our house in helicopters to take pictures when we had parties, they tried to try to take pictures through our windows. They reported I was pregnant no fewer than six times and I’ve never been pregnant. They’re more annoying than a rabid bat infestation.”

  “You’re right. I don’t understand,” I tell her. “But I do understand basic human decency and I figure that as long as you don’t have anything to hide, they can’t hurt you.”

  “Oh my god, James, haven’t you ever seen Notting Hill?”

  “I’ve never been to London,” I tell her, wondering what that has to do with anything.

  “Not the actual place,” she says in an exasperated tone. “The movie. With Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant.”

  “Never saw that one.”

  “Julia plays this huge Hollywood star, and Hugh owns a bookstore down the street from where he lives. She comes into his shop and they start to see each other but everything goes all crazy when the paparazzi get involved and they break up. The press don’t think about celebrities as real people and they’ll do anything it takes to get the story they want.”

  “Tara,” I reach over and take her hand before saying, “I don’t want any part of that kind of life …”