Chemistry

  Chemistry

  Copyright © 2019 by Tess Oliver

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover photo: FuriousFotog

  Cover model: Jack Storer

  Cover design: Nikki Hensley

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  About the Author

  One

  Kinsey

  Why did I let you talk me into that bachelorette party cruise? I must have gained five pounds since the last dress fitting." I took a deep breath but found little relief. "And why doesn't someone make stretchy wedding dresses like those stretchy jeans? Seriously, someone could make a killing with that market. Then brides could actually eat dinner along with the guests." I picked up my diamond stud earring but it slipped from my trembling fingers and got lost somewhere in the folds of crystal white organza. "Great, well I guess I'm going down the aisle with one earring, like a pirate cuz that diamond is lost somewhere in all this shiny white fluff." I tossed the billowy folds around hoping to shake loose the earring. "Ugh, the carpet is white too." I glanced around the room. The country club had provided a massive dressing room for the bridal party. It was so lavishly decorated with pink satin and fake white roses it made my teeth hurt. "This room reminds me of the inside of my Great Grandmother Mabel's coffin. Crap, I hope it's not a bad omen that I'm thinking about a funeral on my wedding day. And I lost the earring. Everyone knows that lost earrings are the harbingers of doom."

  "You are rambling like a madwoman. Just relax. I'll find the earring." Shelby grabbed up the long hem of her dress and crouched down, crumpling up the rayon fabric as she swept her fingers over the thick, ivory colored rug.

  I stared down at my maid of honor's vanilla blonde hair, her newest shade and one that worked well with the misty sage color I'd chosen for the bridesmaids, a decision I made under duress because I'd spent an entire day dress shopping with my mom and aunt and I would have said yes to sweatpants and my grandmother's floral print robe just to end the ordeal.

  Shelby, my best friend and personal assistant, continued on her quest for the lost earring. She lifted my foot and swept her fingers over the carpet.

  "I'd help you but I can't bend over in this medieval corset because you talked me into that cruise," I said.

  "Ta da!" Shelby held up her hand. The diamond stud was pinched between her two fingers. "And stop blaming me for the extra five pounds. You're the one who kept ordering late night nachos and those crazy ice cream sundaes piled on giant cookie things."

  "Those cookie things are pizookies and they are culinary marvels and it's still your fault because I wouldn't have been eating cookie sundaes at midnight if I hadn't been on that cruise." I leaned forward with the earring and somehow managed to put it on. "Thank you for sending the rest of the girls out, by the way. They were making me anxious. Especially my cousin's giggle." My cousin Cindy, a year younger than me and the polar opposite in just about everything, was part of the wedding party at my mom's request. Actually request was too light of a word. It was more of a passive aggressive, coercive plea. 'Kinsey, honey, you absolutely have to ask Cindy to be in the wedding. Your Aunt Carly would never forgive us if you left her out and then every family holiday would be ruined. You don't want to ruin Christmas, do you?'

  "I have to get up and move around. Think I'm going into panic mode." I stood from the stool and shook my arms hoping to relieve some of the tingling in my fingers, a side effect of taking way too many anxious, deep breaths. "I can't believe this is happening, Shel. I mean, I figured I'd be getting married someday but not today. Well, not—not today—I mean, this was the only date they had open here at the country club, and I always imagined myself getting married here ever since I attended that director's wedding—what was his name? The guy who makes those twisted horror flicks." I waved my hand. "Doesn't matter—"

  Shelby strode two steps forward on her bare feet (she was holding off until the last minute to "sausage stuff" her feet into her pumps). She reached up and pretended to take hold of my face but stayed an inch from my five hundred dollar makeup job. "Kiki, look at me." Her big brown eyes stared unblinking into mine. "You're in kooky Kiki mode. You need to pop out of it. Everything is going to go perfectly. You look stunning. You're marrying the hottest man in Hollywood. I saw Kent in his tuxedo. One word. Mouthwatering." She scrunched up her nose. "Wait. I don't like that word. It's kind of weird, like he's some kind of cinnamon bun or something."

  We both laughed and a serious laugh was just what I needed, tight, un-stretchy bodice and all. Shelby was my rock. I would never have survived the ups and downs of my acting career and life in general without her.

  We caught our breath. I put out my arms. "Hug please, Shel. But just an air hug. I don't want to crinkle my dress."

  Yelling and shouting drew us out of our air hug. A moment of terror shot through me. "Holy crap, if that's my dad—he's so competitive. He thinks that it's like a football game, and the groom's side are here to cheer on the opposing team."

  Shelby stifled a laugh. "I did get his email about all of us wearing the same color, the misty sage, so we could show team spirit. I told him I was sort of required to wear the team color." She gazed down at the fluttery folds of sage. "I'm glad you decided against the seafoam green."

  "Me too. You girls would have looked like neon bar signs."

  More yelling pulled our attention away from her dress.

  I rolled my eyes. "He probably started a wave on the bride's side of the room."

  Shelby's brows scrunched up. "I think it's coming from outside." She headed to the window. I turned to get another last look at my hair. I'd decided on a long waterfall twist on one side with a glittery barrette to hold it off my face. I'd gone through several drastic hair color changes in between movies but had finally settled on my original color, brunette. Ivonne, my makeup artist, was one of the best in the business. We had grown close when I had to sit through three hours of hair and makeup every day on the set of my last movie, Angels from Center Earth. The makeup and hair were a smash. The movie, like my last three, was a complete box office bust. The words 'box office poison' were occasionally being tossed out with my name. I was slowly losing my enthusiasm for stardom, but acting was all I knew. I'd even studied it in college.

  I hoped my new marriage would help save my career. Good luck and a particularly low cut pink dress at the O
scar after party had popped me into superstar Kent Blackmoor's line of vision and the rest was history. Although, our history was admittedly short and tenuous but then short, tenuous relationships were sort of my thing. Which would also explain why the paparazzi and tabloids followed me around like hungry sharks. They could always count on Kinsey Greene, the teen idol whose stardom refused to follow her into adulthood and who had dated far too many men, for a great, tawdry headline.

  My last moments of hair inspection were interrupted by silence, namely Shelby's silence. I could still hear the muted yells and tried to decipher whether or not any of the noise was coming from one of my boisterous relatives.

  Shelby turned from the window looking a little waxy.

  "What is it?" I asked. "Holy crap, are my uncles outside tossing a football around in their cheap rented tuxes?"

  "Not exactly," Shelby said in that sheepish tone that only came out when she knew I was about to lose my shit.

  "That doesn't sound good." I willed my satin bridal shoes forward and reached the window in five reluctant shuffles. Large white poster boards were being hoisted above bobbing heads right outside the country club gate. The first one I was able to focus on, due to the sign holder bouncing it up and down like a fervent protester, had the words, 'Katy must marry Jake', written in dark blue paint. Below it was a picture of a broken heart. Another sign said 'Don't take away the magic. Forever Kisses. Jake loves Katy forever.'

  My face whipped toward Shelby. "They do understand that Katy and Jake are fictional characters, right? Seriously, they're delusional." The stupid, meaningless signs shouldn't have aggravated me but they did. The tingling started in my fingers. I shook my hands to rid myself of the sensations.

  Shelby, who knew my every quirk, grabbed my hands and held them steady between hers. "You know there's still an entire group of people obsessed with that movie. It's what happens when you star in a movie that becomes an instant cult classic. The fact that Jameson and you actually dated for a year after the movie didn't help matters. As far as the movie's superfans are concerned, the two of you were destined to be together. Even in real life." She peered up at me. "Now, I'm going to release your hands, but no more shaking or trembling or tingling. No more panicked breathing. Just relax and let's get you married to Hollywood's most popular leading man."

  My gaze swept past the window once more. "Hope it's not a bad omen. After all, how many people have protestors at their wedding?" I started to shake the tingle out of my hands but stopped myself before Shelby's scowl could fully form. "Sorry, I'm just filled with those darn wedding day jitters. This is all going to be fine and glorious, and I'm going to walk out of this place with Kent Blackmoor, the best damn accessory a girl could ever pair with a wedding dress."

  "That's the spirit." Shelby reached to straighten the pearl choker around my neck. "The clasp has slipped to the front."

  "Oh no, another bad omen," I muttered as she spun the smooth pearls around my neck.

  She stepped back with a tilted head and annoyed expression. "Since when are you so superstitious? Is there some bad omen list that includes of all things, a necklace clasp slipping to the front on a wedding day?"

  "The superstition thing started this morning when I noticed a crack in my coffee cup. I decided it meant bad luck. I figured the rest of the day would just snowball into disaster. Will it?" I asked Shelby.

  "Your wedding will be perfectly marvelous." She fussed with some of the pleats on my dress.

  "Not the wedding." I hesitated. My mind had been timidly plucking at the notion that marrying Kent was a big mistake ever since I'd slipped the three karat diamond engagement ring on my finger. "The marriage," I said meekly, something that was rare for me. "Am I making a mistake marrying Kent?"

  Shelby knew me well enough to be stunned by my serious tone. She blinked her long lashes at me a few times, possibly to see if I would follow up the question with a 'gotcha' laugh. "Kiki, only you would know that. What's in your heart?"

  A loud knock jarred us both out of the somber moment. "Kinsey, honey, are you decent?" Mom's cheery tone chirped from behind the door.

  I shook off the seriousness. "I'm sorry, Shel. It's just part of my jitters. Come in, Mom. I'm decent. You helped me put on the dress. Why would I have pulled it off?" I called to the door.

  My mom wasted no time stepping inside the room. She had chosen a slimming dress in pastel pink, certain the color would complement the misty sage of the bridesmaid dresses. She was right. She looked pretty.

  Mom stopped to admire me and took a tissue out of her matching pink clutch purse. "I'm not going to have any makeup on by the end of the day." She blotted lightly at her eyes. "You look so beautiful, Kiki. Like a princess." Her voice wavered. "Guess that's why Daddy always calls you princess."

  "Mom, you look lovely, and I know you're excited but could we avoid any nostalgic trips back to childhood right now. I'm about to get married."

  She waved her newly polished nails through the air. "Trust me. I know." She turned to Shelby and changed her tone as if she was talking to a neighbor she accidentally ran into at the grocery store. "We have been living, breathing and eating this wedding for the past nine months. I can't believe the finale is finally happening."

  Mom turned back to me and stepped forward. She reached up to make some kind of nonsensical adjustment to my hair. I leaned back, away from her fingers.

  She clucked her tongue in annoyance. "I just think there's too much curl on that side. Oh well, I better go out there and make sure your dad is not taking bets on who will cry the most, me or Kent's mom." She leaned closer and snuck a glance around as if the walls had ears. "That Mrs. Blackmoor is certainly a serious woman. She walked in with a stiff face, showing no emotion at all. You'd think she was walking into a courtroom to hear the verdict against her, with the stony face she was wearing."

  I leaned closer too. "That's called Botox, Mom." The piano player started playing "Here Comes the Sun" the song I chose to let the guests know they needed to take a seat because the ceremony was about to begin. "You need to go, Mom. It's almost time."

  "Right. I sure hope the groom finishes with that cigarette," she said, offhandedly. I nearly ripped a stitch in my bodice.

  "Kent stopped smoking when we first started dating," I said. "I'm sure you're wrong about him stepping out for a smoke."

  Mom shrugged smugly. "Maybe I misheard him, but I was certain I heard him tell that tall, blond man, his best man, that he was feeling a little nervous and needed to go out for a smoke. But maybe I heard wrong. My hearing is going along with my memory, my figure and eyesight and every other thing that I took for granted in my youth. Well, off I go." She took a few steps and then swung back for an air kiss. "Next time I see you, you'll be walking down the aisle." She pulled out her tissue. "How am I ever going to make it through the night? I'll have to reapply all my makeup," she continued talking as she walked out the door.

  Shelby raised a smooth brow my direction. "The apple does not fall far from the tree, but at least she wasn't going on about bad omens and cracked coffee cups."

  "Do you think she's right?" I asked.

  Shelby's expressive brows bunched. "Well, if she keeps wiping her face with the tissue then—"

  "No, dummy," I said abruptly. My hand flew to my mouth. "Oh my gosh, I am a bridezilla. I meant, do you think she was right about Kent going out for a cigarette? He knows how much I hate those stinky things."

  "Like she said, he was probably getting a case of the nerves." Shelby looked me up and down. "We've both seen the ugly side of that this afternoon. He probably borrowed a smoke just to calm himself down. It's not the end of the world and—" She lifted her hand to stop me from commenting. "And it's not a bad omen." She blew me an air kiss. "I need to get out there and round up the misty sage posse so we can make our entrance. A little alone time might be good for you." She walked over and drew the pink satin curtains shut over the window to avoid any more glimpses of the silly fans outside the gates. "Listen
for your song. I'll see you in a few, bestie."

  "Thanks, bestie." I blew her another kiss. She walked out the door, leaving me all alone with my jitters and nerves and second thoughts.

  Two

  Kinsey

  I paced the room and avoided listening to any of the peripheral noises, including the people standing out in the hot California sun insisting I was marrying the wrong man. After several years of commercials and bit parts on television, at the tender age of nineteen, I landed my dream role as female lead in a teen romance movie titled Forever Kisses. I was cast opposite another newcomer to the glamour and glitz of Hollywood, Jameson Slate. Our patient and talented director, Sawyer Croft, had managed to coach us two newbies through our scenes, including a few intimate scenes that nearly sent me into daily panic attacks. The movie, a low budget film that was destined to spend only a week in the theater before ending up as a constant rerun on a cable channel, was an overnight hit. Critics claimed that the chemistry between us, Jameson and me, or Katy and Jake, our onscreen names, was so real and palpable it made everyone want to go out and fall in love. It turned out neither one of us was quite ready for the insane fallout that came from overnight fame. We clung to each other for comfort, support and more of those intimate scenes, which went much better and without the panic when not happening with a camera crew in the room. Jameson was my first true love, but as was normally the case with young romance, and especially in Hollywood, hearts were broken, rumors swirled in every direction, taking a bit of my soul on each pass. Unlike the happy ending in Forever Kisses, the relationship ended. Sometimes I blamed myself, sometimes I blamed Jameson but mostly I blamed the paparazzi and tabloids. Jameson and I couldn't drink a cup of coffee in a diner without the entire thing being photographed and evaluated. On one occasion, I got a text from my mom in the middle of a dinner out. My dad had been taken to the hospital with chest pains. Turned out just to be gas but it scared the heck out of us. Naturally, the second I got the text, we rushed out of the restaurant. Everyone decided the distraught expression on my face meant we had broken up over our lobster salads. For several days, rumors twirled like tornadoes about new lovers, broken hearts and all the other click bait the tabloids used for headlines. But one day, a headline came with a picture. Veronica Catches Jameson's Eye and Heart. Below the headline that ripped me in two was a picture of Jameson and Veronica Taylor, a stunning newcomer with a promising career, in what could only be described as an intimate chat at a local restaurant. That was the beginning of a long, heart shredding end. Fortunately for both of us, Forever Kisses had launched us into the megastar universe and movie parts were flowing in. Breaking up and leaving behind the constant scrutiny by fans and journalists helped us each focus on our careers. But even with the plethora of movie parts falling into my lap, I never managed another big hit. My only consolation was that Jameson wasn't doing so hot either.