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she’s teething or what, but I’ve been trying to study for the
past hour, and I can’t get anything done because she keeps waking up.”
    The wobble in her voice told him she was close to tears.
“You aren’t going to quit,” he said gently. “You’ve put in too much time and
effort to let it all slip away. You’re just tired and frustrated. Tell you
what, I’ll come by and distract Fifi while you study. Just find me a beer, will
you?”
    “You’re busy. I can’t let you come all this way just
because of me.”
    He let the smile show in his voice. “Maria, if you hadn’t
wanted me to come over, you wouldn’t have called.”
    “I suppose you’re right.” She sniffed. “But I feel
terrible about it.”
    “Don’t.” He cradled the phone on his shoulder as he picked
up a jacket and walked over to the front door. “I was done for the night
anyway.”
     

Chapter Five
     
    “Alix Z? Are you Alix Z?”
    The crowds of travelers in the busy Los Angeles airport
streaming around her, Alix closed her eyes and briefly entertained the fantasy
of saying no. As her plane had descended through the thick layer of yellowish-brown
smog that covered the city, memories of her days making movies for Gunther came
spilling back, leaving Alix with a familiar mix of longing and distaste. Even
when she’d been living and working here, she’d never felt quite at home. The
urge to run back to Oregon and Rex was overwhelming.
    But then she remembered that she didn’t have enough money
in her checking account to pay the change fee on her ticket. Leaving LA was not
an option.
    She steeled her shoulders and pasted an artificial smile
on her face for the eager young man who had greeted her. “Yes.”
    “Mr. Valentine sent me to pick you up. I’m Nick Peters. I
hope you don’t mind me saying that I’m a big fan of your movies.” He extended
his hand, and Alix shook it with a resigned sigh.
    Nick Peters was tall, lean, and broad-shouldered, with
frayed blue jeans riding low around his hips. A mop of curly hair covered his
forehead, expertly cut to ensure it did not obscure his crystal blue eyes or
square jaw. Alix studied him clinically, seeing in that perfect physique and
artful appearance a mirror of a thousand other young men she’d met over the
years. When she first moved to LA, she’d been flattered by the attention of
boys like Nick. But after a few painful encounters, she’d learned not to trust their
gleaming white smiles. They spent time with her because they thought she could
give them something: a part, some money, connections. They had no interest in her .
    As they left LAX, Alix eyed the familiar mix of palm
trees, artificially green shrubs, and dead grass with a sigh. Nothing in LA
seemed real, not even the plants.
    Nick pulled onto the freeway, chattering at high speed
about Salva’s Revenge , the latest Hollywood gossip, and his
recommendations for the newest restaurants at which Alix simply had to be seen.
The Bolvana studio was in Burbank, which could have made for an endless trip
across the Valley, but luckily the freeways were all moving, and Nick seemed
determined to get them there in record time. He ducked across lanes on the
bumpy concrete road, alternatively moving at a slow crawl when traffic
tightened and then accelerating to ninety when the traffic broke. By the time
they arrived, Alix was exhausted. Six months since her last visit and she’d
forgotten how much energy it took just to exist here, with the constant barrage
of stimulation from the radio, the billboards, and the honking horns. She found
herself longing for the silence of her beach retreat, even as her nervousness
over what she was supposed to do grew.
    Her role on the film was clear, she reminded herself. She
would stay for one month. She would provide her opinion and nothing more. She
would ignore her silly, physical response to Ryker and focus on her work. And
when her month was over, she would be back on a plane, one hundred