Chapter 1

Beverly Hills, California

As she'd done every morning for years whenever she was in town, Audra Kane drove to her supermarket in Beverly Hills to pick up fresh fruit, bagels and lox.

She leisurely strolled down the aisles, feeling light and free because no one ever bothered her here. She wore jeans and sneakers and a long-sleeve denim shirt open at the collar. Her short, wavy, black hair was finger-combed, and she hadn't even taken the time to apply any makeup this morning.

Julie, the woman behind the deli counter, called out to her. "Good morning, Miss Kane. We got in some of that Russian lox you prefer. Would you like your usual half pound?"

Audra bit her bottom lip as she bent closer to the delicatessen case. Would half a pound be enough? She was expecting a guest: her stepson, Jonas. He'd phoned last night to say he was in town at his father's house. Unfortunately he and his father, Audra's ex-husband, Norman Blake, a film director, didn't get along.

Audra had clearly heard the misery in his voice last night. "Why don't you come stay with me a few days?" she'd asked him. "Momma would love to see you. You're the closest to a grandchild she's ever gotten out of me!"

They'd laughed and he'd agreed that he'd see her the next day at around lunchtime.

"You'd better make that a pound," Audra told Julie. "And I'll also take a pound of smoked turkey and smoked ham. Oh, and some Swiss cheese and sharp cheddar."

Julie, a tall blonde in her early twenties with brown eyes and a lovely smile, quickly went to work preparing Audra's order. "Sounds like you're having friends over for lunch today."

"My stepson," Audra answered easily. "All the way from South Africa. I haven't seen him in nearly a year."

"Then it's time for a family reunion," Julie said as she sliced ham. She glanced up to smile at Audra but scowled, instead, and cried, "We don't allow that in here!"

At first Audra thought she was speaking to her, then out of the corner of her eye she saw that a small crowd of people had formed behind three men with cameras.

Turning around, the flash from the cameras blinded her.

"Security!" Julie yelled. "Security!"

"Audra," said a woman reporter, stepping forward. "How does it feel to have been chosen by Deana Davis to be the subject of her next scathing biography?"

Audra felt like a cornered rat on a burning ship. With the press of the crowd, the reporter and the photographers, she was nearly shoved against the deli case. This was the first she'd heard of the notorious, celebrity biographer's plans to write her life story. Up until a few days ago, she'd been on location in Morocco shooting a comedy.

Her strict southern upbringing gave her the presence of mind to politely turn to Julie and say, "Please have my order delivered." Then she regarded the reporter who had asked the question and said, "You'll have to forgive me but, as you probably know, I've only recently gotten back to the States. Deana Davis hasn't contacted me or any of my people. I haven't had time to determine how I feel about her decision to write my bio."

She flashed a million-dollar smile. "Besides, my life isn't over yet. Her book would be only half the story!"

"We love you, Miss Kane!" a woman in the crowd called out to her.

"I love you, too, darling," Audra called back.

She regarded the reporter once again. "Now, if you don't mind, I'll be going."

"Just one more question, Audra," said the reporter.

Audra held back a weary sigh. She supposed since she was constantly in the public eye reporters felt they could dispense with social niceties such as addressing someone with Miss or Mrs. out of respect.

The reporter smirked when she asked, "Is it true that Jonathan Hawkins dropped you for Marisa Freethy?"

Audra's gut clenched painfully at the mention of Jonathan, that snake. Yes, he'd broken up with her for a younger actress. But Audra made it a rule never to discuss her private life with the media. After more than twenty years in the business those in the media were well aware of this.

"Why don't you ask Jonathan," Audra sweetly suggested.

She turned her back on the reporter, and the crowd parted, letting her pass. Walking swiftly through the store, she kept telling herself to slow down. To carry herself with dignity, when all she wanted to do was sprint out of there as fast as she could.

By the time Audra arrived at the Beverly Hills estate she'd been awarded in the divorce settlement, she'd calmed down considerably. It wouldn't do for her to walk into the house a mass of nerves. Her mother would immediately sense her distress.

She slowly drove the Mercedes through the gates, along the tree-shaded lane, around the back to the garage. She parked and got out. Her legs felt a little rubbery when she stood. Emotional meltdowns were not a part of her normal repertoire. Even though she was an actress and, as such, was expected to be somewhat theatrical.

Feeling better, she hurried to the back door.

Estrella Mendoza, her housekeeper and longtime friend, met her at the door.

Estrella glanced at her empty arms and asked, "Should I get the bags out of the car?"

"No, thanks, Estrella. I asked them to deliver my order," Audra said with a wan smile.

Estrella peered into her face. "What's the matter? You look sick."

Copyright © 2008 by Janice Sims.