all
part of some obsessive, sick, and twisted fantasy that we would be a couple.”
Tia
swallowed hard. So far, they’d waved away the waitress, who was hovering just
out of earshot, waiting for her chance to wait on Dylan Miller. Now Tia
motioned her over and asked for some water, and she returned in seconds with an
icy pitcher and four glasses with lemon wedges perched on the rims. Each of
them took a slow drink, letting what had been said so far sink in. It was only
the tip of the iceberg, Dylan knew, and Tia’s parents were only now finding out
that they were a couple. There was the whole summer to share with them yet. It
was a lot to take in, and Tia hitched in a breath.
“Sorry,”
Tia muttered, after downing nearly half her glass. Dylan poured her some more,
leaning over her and whispering, “It’s me who’s sorry, love. I hate that you
have to hear any of this.” He pressed his lips to her forehead.
“I
know, baby,” she said. “But it needs to be said, and I need some time to
process it anyway. Go ahead.”
He
winced, but he continued. “A few nights ago—bloody hell, I can’t believe it was
only a few nights ago—she faked the death of an aunt who didn’t even exist and
had a meltdown in my trailer.” He paused, deciding to leave out the part about
her trying to seduce him in her own trailer. “She inadvertently left her phone
behind, and I found it later that evening. I figured it would be best to bring
it to her, and I walked in on her putting together scrapbooks already full of
pictures and letters I’d sent to Tia. I saw some of the tabloids, too—her agent
was sending her copies of all the magazines that boasted pictures of
us—pictures from rehearsals and filming that their teenaged hacker had doctored
to make it look like we were on dates and holidays. I also found the plane
ticket I’d sent to Tia in the piles.” He paused to let everyone take it in.
“It
all started to make sense to me then—the lost phone number, the computer crash,
the change of assistants—and I called the director immediately, and told him to
call the police. I had him wait with her while I barged in to Angela’s
trailer—I just knew she had to have had help keeping the whole thing together.
She caved pretty quickly and told me everything I’ve told you; of course saying
that Penelope forced her into the whole mess. I found out that night that Tia
hadn’t dumped me at all—in fact, even though she’d been told to burn them, Angela
had kept Tia’s letters to me in a shoebox, and she finally handed them over. I
tell you, it was like holding a treasure when she gave me that box. I realized,
of course, that Tia had been going through the same kind of hell, and that she
was still in the dark; thinking I’d dumped her. The only thing I could do was
to find her right away. I spent most of that night in the police station,
giving statements, and the rest of it reading all of Tia’s letters. I met with
the director the next day, and refused to do one more scene with that horrid
woman. We filmed a few scenes with a double the next morning, after I got in
touch with Jessa and begged forgiveness. Thankfully, she’d suspected all along
that Penelope had been behind the whole mess, and said that she’d be thrilled
to make her first order of business helping me and Tia get back together, and
she worked on tickets to get me back here. I just arrived yesterday morning.”
There
was a collective quiet at the table as each tried to assimilate the information.
Danielle looked at Tia with pity in her eyes.
“This
is the first time I’ve heard it, too,” Tia said. “We didn’t want to talk about
it yesterday…we were just so happy to be together and didn’t want anything to
spoil the only private time we’re going to have for a while.”
“I
can’t believe that anyone could be so…damn, I don’t even know a word for it!”
Will growled.
Danielle
took in the look on her daughter’s face. “I