4

Mara laced her tennis in a double knot, put on her wireless buds, and started her usual jog. She always began at home, working through the expansive grounds of her estate with a few laps, then heading through the open rusted gates toward town.

Though the town in question was five miles downhill.

There wasn’t much safety to be found in gates that had rusted so thoroughly they didn’t close anymore. It was probably why her first bodyguard insisted she install a new set of gates at the top of the driveway. Mara refused, explaining that a new gate would do nothing without a fence that circled the property. And she wouldn’t do that to the grounds. The whole point of her home was to be in touch with nature.

The man in question could easily walk through the woods and avoid the brand new gate altogether.

Of course, her bodyguard then insisted she install a fence, and cameras too, while she was at it. When she said no, he called Richard and complained, so she fired him. Thank god for confidentiality agreements.

Yet somehow, Mara ended up on the blogs as the villain, when he was the unprofessional one. Did he not understand that she bought the property for its wildness—for the lack of technology and noise? She certainly didn’t buy it to bulldoze the beautiful tree line and thick brush for an industrial fence that made her wildlands look like the hidden hills. To be honest, his displeased glances at the overgrown weeds and wild bushes told her enough about what he thought of nature. He probably said a silent thank you to her for cutting him loose so he could head back to Los Angeles on the first flight.

At least the NDA would keep his mouth quiet and her address safe.

That had been the first in a long list of men she couldn’t stand to live with. There were caveats Mara would make, namely agreeing to security in the first place, but even with a stalker situation, she would not destroy her small sliver of peace. And she wouldn’t have someone look down on her private life, either.

Those thoughts slid into the back of her mind as she relaxed into the run. She hardly heard the thwack of her pepper spray and house keys over the birds and the wind whipping through the trees. Her footsteps crunched over the gravel driveway, switching to a softer sound when she hit the tree line. Her body softened into the feeling. She inhaled the breeze, sunlight streaking over her skin as she jogged the familiar track. Mara decided whoever owned the property before her must have loved running too because there was a wide path worn through the surrounding woods from the estate all the way to town.

In fact, there were several large trails that intersected all around her property and headed toward the lake. She just hadn’t had time to explore them all.

All her worries fell away as she ran. She focused on breathing the fresh air, on the gentle stretch of her muscles, on the pleasant burn building in her thighs and calves. She could live in the freedom of it forever. Some people loved the film industry, and she didn’t judge them for it, but she just wanted to make enough money from her movies to fall off the grid and never come back.

Mara closed her eyes for a second, remembering the woods behind her childhood home—the only place she ever wanted to be. How much time did she spend talking to the trees? So much money was spent on online therapy skirting topics she couldn’t fully address, and her biggest source of relief was still the great outdoors. It wasn’t her therapist’s fault that she couldn’t tell the full story, or work the programs properly. She didn’t blame him for her own failings. Instead, she practiced the techniques she learned, letting disorder blossom around her because it brought her joy, watching life exist in whatever way it wanted to because it made her soul feel safe.

A childhood spent hiding herself had turned into an adulthood where she uncovered it all. Mara wanted to remember her dreams and passions, all the things she whispered to herself in the quiet of her room.

Her phone buzzed inside her armband, and she ignored it. She’d already dodged two of Richard’s calls yesterday and one early this morning. Mara knew he was calling to yell at her for firing her bodyguard again, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t dealing with any more strangers in her personal space.

During her first week home, Mara jumped every time she heard a noise. She didn’t take trips into town or to the lake for fear of being cornered, so she clung to the safety a strong, well-trained professional provided. Normally, she'd have one such bodyguard of steel jogging behind her now, but the most recent one was already on a flight back to California. That had been bodyguard number fifteen from ten different agencies across Cali over the course of a month, and Mara was convinced, now more than ever, that she didn’t care how capable or attractive a man was, poor attitude and judgment were things she couldn’t tolerate.

Richard was only going to tell her what Mara already knew: she was running out of options, and the first read-through with the cast was coming up. Her concerns were valid, but the more men she fired, the more tiny details would bother her. Safety or not, there was no way she was settling for the guy who had a fetish for clowns, an unfortunate fact she stumbled upon when he used her streaming channels. Or the one who liked to wash his SUV five times a day but would only let it air dry. If she had to stare out of a spotty window one more time, she would have lost her mind. Richard wouldn’t understand that her latest bodyguard ate extremely loudly... like she-could-hear-his-saliva-from-down-the-hall kind of loudly, and it had soured several meals for her.

Richard, to his credit, had updated the 'must-not' list after every issue. For some, behavior wasn’t a problem, but they wouldn't talk to her. How could she live with someone who avoided conversation like the plague? It made her skin crawl.

It reminded her too much of being watched. Of being judged from every angle. Never allowed to breathe comfortably.

Richard accused her of being too picky, determined to find an excuse to fire every single one. Mara sighed, setting her sights on the coffee shop in town. Firing one of them for having blue eyes might have proved Richard had a point. She jogged alongside the main town road where there was no danger of twisting her ankle or running into traffic. For the last week, her routine was flawless. Jog for coffee, walk back and take in the sights, answer emails for an hour, take her online self-defense lesson, have online therapy, and then meditate. Mara would miss it when filming finally started. The studio booked her for a solid three months of filming off the lot at an undisclosed location, and afterward, the cast would get a week off before they'd start the press tour.

She shared some small talk with Betty Ann behind the counter, brushed up on the latest wolf sightings, and headed back for the five miles home.

Five miles of ignoring her buzzing phone and dreading the conversation to come. Even uphill, the walk was enough make Mara smile. At least if her stalker found her here, she’d die in a place not far from heaven.

Another forceful buzz went through her arm as she unlocked her front door, kicked off her muddy shoes and tossed the empty coffee cup in a contractor bag. Screwing her eyes shut, Mara finally gave in.

"Hey Richard," Mara clicked the answer button with a sigh, "I hope you're not calling to push the security thing again..."

"Mara, my love, my dove, my darling, my favorite client..." Richard charmed in his normal upbeat way, "What was it this time? Foot odor? You have to take these threats seriously, doll. You can't send away every single guard you meet because of things that don't matter. If it doesn't affect their ability to protect you and it doesn't hurt you, you have to let it go. Some of them had only been working with you for a handful of hours before you called it quits." He huffed, and she could tell he was leaning back in his office chair, probably pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I am taking the threats seriously, Rich, but I'm also taking my feelings seriously, too. I can't ignore being uncomfortable for however long it takes to find my stalker," Mara huffed, opening the fridge to grab a bottle of water. "The point is, if I'm miserable with the person who will shadow me from now 'til whenever, how would I work? I can't have a pissy attitude every day and expect the studio to be fine with it. Cut me some slack and find another agency, Rich."

"You've been through every agency I vetted already, and the others are all refusing you as a client," Richard said quietly, resigned, "They're calling you difficult and Mara it's only a matter of time before labels like that end up in the tabloids. Then where will your image be? America's girl next door is your angle, hon, and that doesn't mesh with being bitchy."

"That's not fair, Richard, and you know it. They're all paid full salary and the compensation package is above market value. I just don't want people who make me uncomfortable in my private space. That doesn't make me a bitch."

Mara was trying hard not to get upset with him but her agent had been grating her nerves ever since the attack. On one hand, he wasn't taking her emotions seriously and on the other, he was prioritizing her image above her well-being. Their working relationship had never been like this before but the stalker was driving a wedge between them.

Maybe between her and everyone.

"Fair enough. You're right, I know that, Mara. I know the real you and the on-screen you are very different but the rest of the world doesn't know that. They see the confident, beautiful actress who was the world on their knees. And if word of all this new-hire-then-fire gets out, you'll start reading nasty things about yourself online, love. These are... personal issues. I get that. So, I've already arranged a meeting with a highly recommended security firm. This one typically only takes politicians or private professionals and the like. They don't normally take on celebrity clientele but they've agreed to a meeting for me and as always they are discreet. But this is our last shot, Mara. After this, you might be on your own as far as security companies."

"You know I'm not trying to be difficult..."

Mara looked out of her kitchen window. She couldn't find the words to tell him why this all felt too overwhelming. She didn't like strangers in her personal space. But she needed security and if this was the last agency, she'd have to make it work. "Never mind, I'll be at the meeting."

"Wonderful! See you at eight tomorrow? I'll text you the details. I've already had my assistant book your flight back to Los Angeles."

Mara heard the click of her line switching from the phone back to music as she pulled the pods out of her ears. She whimpered in frustration. Her life had turned upside down seemingly overnight.

The phone began to ring again.

"Hi, Ms. Luxe," Althea, her personal assistant, chirped from the other end of the line, "I have received a flight itinerary from Mr. Smith. You'll be leaving at five this evening. Do you need any help packing? I have already ordered the car service and booked your usual room for later tonight."

"The usual room, Althea?" Mara's heart sputtered. Her stalker had already found her there once. She wouldn't stay there again.

"My apologies! I completely forgot about the incident, I'll book a new reservation at a different hotel immediately." She paused, "Shall I use another alias?"

"Please. Make up a fresh one and tell no one where I'm staying. Not even Richard, okay?"

"Absolutely. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, thank you, Althea. Your impeccable timing and hard work are always appreciated. I should only be staying for one night before filming begins. I'll talk to you later."

"Alright Ms. Luxe, call me if you need anything else. I can always have a personal shopper attend to you if your plans change and you need clothing."

"Yes, okay that's smart. Bye."

Mara hung up again, this time feeling a little more upset. She could feel an uneasy pit in her stomach at the thought of heading back to L.A. so soon. That's where all the problems had started and now, she was going to have to face it once again.

The floor-to-ceiling windows in the kitchen showed a bright morning sky that had begun to darken. Just an hour ago it had been perfect but now, the beginnings of a storm were on the horizon and she didn't like it one bit.