Colton's Mistaken Identity. Geri Krotow
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motionless, as if meditating. He wasn’t fooled and braced himself for the confrontation. He was tired of running from life and from his haters. This overzealous fan had picked the wrong day to mess with him.
Before he had a chance to look into the woman’s eyes, she turned and ran. Not toward him, but in the opposite direction. As if she’d never seen him. As if he, Prescott Reynolds, weren’t her obsession. As if she’d just been someone out for a morning workout and had taken a break by the running water. Hadn’t he done the same?
The chuckle started deep in his gut, so rare since his abominable breakup with Ariella Forsythe last year. At first he wondered if he was losing it. But as he laughed at himself, admitted to himself that he wasn’t the center of everyone’s universe, he felt the tightness in his chest ease up. Hadn’t his mother always told him he took himself too seriously?
The unexpected relief that rushed through him was as cool and calming as the mountain stream. It’d been too long since he’d simply relaxed, stopped thinking about disastrous breakups or crazed fans. It was time he let go and enjoyed being plain old Prescott, the Iowa farm boy who was lucky to have had a big Hollywood break.
He ran his fingers over the smooth white aspen bark. Maybe this film festival wouldn’t be so bad. There was the problem of the Avalanche Killer making national headlines, but he faced more danger walking down a busy street in LA. At least in Roaring Springs he had his security detail with him, and the opportunity to draw on the beauty of the stunning valley surrounded by such powerful mountains. He needed all the peace and tranquility he could get.
* * *
Ariella adjusted the climbing belt and dug her spikes into the tree trunk. Thank goodness for the free-climbing and rappelling classes she’d taken at REI; they’d enabled her to keep tabs on Prescott no matter where he went.
He’d almost caught her, thanks to the stupid bitch who’d been running on the same trail he hiked. Another woman hoping to get into Prescott’s bed and have him declare how much he needed her, she was certain.
Her cheeks pulled tight as her lip curled. Prescott had been so gullible. He’d truly believed that she’d loved him. And she supposed that she had, as much as she could feel for anyone. When he’d told her he loved her, though, she knew he meant it. Unlike her, Prescott was able to give a damn about other people.
All she cared about was winning what she wanted. And what Ariella really coveted was Prescott’s pull and influence in the entertainment industry. His salaries had gone up by the millions for each film, along with his clout. Exactly what a girl like her needed to get her career going in the right direction.
Poor Prescott had been so righteously angry when she’d admitted she’d been screwing Donald Channing, another actor on their film set over a year ago. He’d left in a huff and then stopped taking her calls and texts. Said he was done with her.
But she wasn’t done with him, and Ariella was certain that once she presented Prescott with her plan, he’d agree to again partner with her. That had been her one mistake—she hadn’t let him in on her career plans right from the start.
He wasn’t going to come easily, though. It’d be impossible to get him to meet with her and have a calm adult discussion. Ariella knew it would be risky, but she was determined to win Prescott back, even if it meant officially kidnapping him to get him in the same room as her.
And getting rid of women like the redhead who were in her way.
“Have you heard from Skye this morning, sweetheart?” Mara Colton was already dressed in her work clothes, which meant she looked like she’d just stepped out of a boardroom. Her navy suit was official looking enough to give her mom the impression of measured control over what they both knew could erupt into total chaos with one wrong decision. They planned all year for the Roaring Springs Film Festival and worked well together, but this year felt different. Between Skye’s failed romance, the Avalanche Killer, and the loss of revenue due to the latter, nothing was going as usual.
“No, not since she told me she needed some space.” Phoebe wiped her brow with the bottom edge of her running shirt. “Don’t worry, Mom. She’s had a rough breakup, and you know how she takes them.”
“‘Space’ is not an option, with the press arriving today. What on earth are we going to do if she’s not here to handle tonight’s event?”
Mara’s concern made the tiny lines around her mouth deepen, and Phoebe hated that her twin was putting her mother through this. It was one thing to go all trauma-drama when you were a teenager, or even in college, but at twenty-five it seemed a little excessive.
Not that Phoebe could relate. Skye had always enjoyed a healthy dating life, her outgoing nature attracting men like adrenaline junkies to the high mountains that surrounded The Chateau. As the quieter twin, Phoebe normally didn’t have a problem with her more introverted personality, but she was starting to wonder when she’d have more than the more casual relationships with men she’d enjoyed so far. She wasn’t sexually inexperienced, but it’d be nice to have a man who wanted something more. Something lasting.
While she tried to think of how to answer her mother, a skinny boy of thirteen came barreling around the corner, followed by a rosy-faced toddler.
“Hey, Phoebe!” Joshua pulled up short and looked over his shoulder to make sure the little girl was with him. “Come on, Chloe.”
“Good morning, you two.” Phoebe gave Josh a quick hug and then bent down to lift Chloe into her arms. She buried her nose into the baby curls, savoring the sweet scent.
“Grandma, can me and Chloe go to the playground? I’ll make sure she doesn’t climb too high.” Josh was Phoebe’s nephew and the son of her brother Blaine, who’d just returned from his military stint. They’d all only met recently, as no one had known that Joshua’s mother, Tilda, gave birth to Blaine’s son back in high school. Russ and Mara were proving much warmer grandparents than they had been parents, and immediately wrapped Joshua in unconditional love. Still, it was disconcerting to hear him call Mara “grandma.” Phoebe smiled and poked at Chloe’s stomach. “Who has a cute tummy?”
Chloe’s squeal of delight warmed Phoebe and chased away her worries about Skye. Chloe was the daughter of her cousin Sloane, the woman Russ and Mara had raised as their own. Both children were the first grandkids for Russ and Mara, and it showed in how very spoiled they were whenever they came to the resort.
“Phoebe. We need to settle how we’re going to fix this.” Mara hugged Joshua to her as she spoke, her eyes softening for the young teen.
Chloe started to squirm, her legs kicking like all get-out, and Phoebe reluctantly set her back down.
“You two go on ahead, I’ll have Lania meet you there.” Mara spoke to Joshua, referring to the nanny she’d hired to help during festival week.
“Thanks, Grandma! See you, Aunt Phoebe!” Joshua and Chloe sped off, the toddler’s legs furiously pedaling to keep up with her older cousin. Mara placed a quick call on her cell. She instructed the nanny to text the minute she arrived at the playground. With the Avalanche Killer on the loose, there was no such thing as being too careful.
When Mara turned to face Phoebe, she was ready with the best answer to ward off her mother’s inevitable freak-out.
“Skye will be back in time, Mom. I’ll text her in a bit and see where she’s at.”
“You remember that I still need you in the ballroom by nine this morning, right?”
Phoebe looked at her watch. “Yes, and that leaves me another two hours to shower, eat and show up.”
“And I thought we agreed you weren’t going to go running by yourself until everything gets cleared up?” Mara reminded her.
Great.