Free Courting Trouble (Reality Romance Book 5) by Lizzie Shane Page B

have let Cassie burn, but my career was over. I was told I could ride a desk for the rest of my career or I could quietly resign and look for work in the private sector.”
    “So you resigned.”
    “From the only job I ever wanted to have. And Sandy Newton gave me a house and Max gave me a job and the media hailed me as the greatest thing since Captain America—and it all feels like a lie because I can’t tell anyone my big moment of heroism was also the moment I screwed up my life.”
    “Would you do it differently, if you could go back?”
    His eyes focused on hers finally. “Of course not.”
    “Then own it.” She glanced around the foyer—light, airy and filled with beachy charm. “As consolation prizes go, this house is pretty sweet.”
    “If only I could afford it.”
    “I thought it was a gift?”
    “It was. And an offer I couldn’t refuse. But just the property taxes on a place like this are more than I can afford. And that’s before you consider maintenance and insurance and utilities…” He waved her farther into the house and she preceded him into the state-of-the-art kitchen, which looked down over a sunken living room ringed by floor-to-ceiling windows for panoramic ocean views in the daylight. Right now they revealed only the Adirondack chairs and outdoor couches scattered across the curving back deck. “Celebrities don’t always think of the logistics behind their big romantic gestures of gratitude when they’re declaring on national television that you have to let them show their appreciation..”
    “Not the worst problem you could have.”
    “No,” he agreed.
    At least no one was taping notes to his door.
    The memory of why she was here seeped in. She’d been doing a good job of avoiding thinking about her Whore-on-the-Door friend, but reality could only be ignored for so long.
    She wandered down into the sunken living room, staring out into the darkness beyond. Focusing on the house was much more pleasant than her reality. It was a calm, contemporary beach casual oasis of wealth. Like something out of a magazine. “So this is your style, huh?” She picked up a decorative seashell sculpture.
    “More like Sandy Newton’s style. Or Sandy’s decorator’s style. I haven’t changed much since I moved in.”
    That explained the complete absence of anything that felt like him in the house. It felt like a vacation rental rather than a home. Somewhere he hadn’t bothered to make his own because he knew he wouldn’t be staying. “It’s nice. I used to dream about places like this. I would read about the beautiful people with their beautiful lives and dream about the day when I was going to be a famous actress.”
    “Don’t believe the hype. It isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
    She laughed dryly. “Sure it isn’t.”
    Adam descended to the sunken living room with her. “You forget. I do private security for celebrities. I’ve seen way too much of their lives to call them beautiful. It’s hard to keep the illusion that money buys happiness when you see it firsthand.”
    “Have you ever noticed that the people who say money doesn’t buy happiness always have money? It may not buy happiness, but it sure as hell buys ease and comfort—and something to eat besides Ramen and cereal.”
    “I’m not saying money doesn’t make life easier,” he agreed. “I just meant that it’s easy—especially in this town—to get so focused on getting rich and famous, and staying rich and famous, that you forget that what you’re ultimately shooting for is happiness , not fame and fortune.”
    She shrugged. “Fame and fortune are easier to measure. I’ll worry about happiness when I’m holding my first Oscar.”
    He looked at her and she could see the memory of the note she’d found today shadow his face. “Are you sure it’s worth it? From what I’ve seen, the rest of it doesn’t suddenly get easier or less invasive when you’re winning Oscars.”
    “It’ll be worth it.”