First Date (13 page)

“I guess so.” He squeezed her hand and smiled. “Did I say thanks?”

“Yes, I think so.” Addy laughed.

“Good. Because I meant it.”

On the ride home, Addy relived every minute of their time together. She hadn’t enjoyed herself so much in a long time. She felt energized, happy. Jonathon didn’t feel like the president’s son or the guy she was trying to win a date to prom with. He felt like a friend.

Addy leaned back against the leather headrest as the van pulled onto the dirt road that led to the row of trailers. She enjoyed one last minute of quiet, knowing that as soon as she stepped foot into their trailer, Kara would expect to hear all about Addy’s golfing adventure.

Chapter 18

J
onathon Jackson Gives Kazoo-Playing Contestant Private Lessons?’” Addy threw down the paper and screamed. “What is this?”

“There are more,” Kara said. “Some little elves left them for us this morning with a note attached. The note was so dirty I flushed it down the toilet.”

Addy felt like her chest was going to explode. Apparently paparazzi had been hiding in the woods around the golf course. Her picture along with ridiculous speculation by “journalists” left Addy looking like a slutty opportunist.

“We did
nothing
, Kara. We just played a round of golf. With Secret Service guys right behind us the whole time. And these papers make it sound like I took him into the woods and . . .” Addy couldn’t even finish her sentence. Tears burned her eyes. “How do I even fight this? If I say we just played golf, no one will believe me. If I don’t say anything, people will just assume it’s true.” The tears couldn’t be held back any longer, falling like fire onto Addy’s cheeks. “Kara, I’ve never even
kissed
a boy.”

She sat next to Addy, rubbing her back and nodding. “Addy, breathe. It’s probably going to get worse before it gets better.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“But it’s going to get better. These things are like a Jolly Rancher—juicy for a while, but eventually it disappears and is completely forgotten.”

Addy couldn’t help but laugh. “That has to be the dumbest simile ever.”

“Hey, I got you to smile.”

Someone banged on the girls’ door, and Addy knew her life was about to get much worse.

“Get out here right now, Addy,” Hank boomed.

Addy squeezed Kara’s arm for support, then walked to the door and opened it. Hank was standing on the top step, almost causing Addy to stumble right into him. Less than ten feet away, the other girls and half the crew stood looking on. Addy was sure she saw fiendish glee in their eyes. Bloodlust. She pictured Hank grabbing her by the neck and throwing her on the ground, the others jumping on top, kicking and punching and pulling her hair. The coroner would of course rule it an accidental death.

“Don’t you
dare
ignore me,” Hank demanded.

She had been doing just that—unintentionally, of course. But she wasn’t even going to bother trying to tell Hank that. She had to choose her battles, and today’s battle was named “I am not a slutty opportunist.”

Hank shook a paper in his hand, the veins on his bronzed forehead looking like a map of downtown Tampa. “What do you think you’re doing?” he yelled. “It’s one thing to try to get attention by mouthing off or by making a fool of yourself. But how dare you pull Jonathon into your lunatic schemes.”

Bile rose in her throat. She tried to explain what actually happened, but of course, Hank didn’t believe a word.

“Jonathon called me first thing and insisted the story wasn’t true.” Hank snorted. “Sure he said that. He has a reputation to maintain. The president is so upset by this, he is threatening to pull the plug on the whole show,” Hank continued, St. Petersburg now added to the forehead map. “This entire show could be demolished because of
you
,” Hank yelled, the crowd behind him joining in.

Hank took another step toward her, and Addy braced herself for what she was sure to be a blow when Eric pushed through the crowd.

“Stop it, Hank. This is a seventeen-year-old girl,” Eric spat, eye to eye with his boss who had stepped down from Addy’s trailer. “And this is a free country. We are innocent until proven guilty here, and pictures on a tabloid are certainly not proof of guilt.”

Hank’s forehead continued to throb, but he backed away, walking toward the crowd and pushing aside anyone who happened to be in his way. The crowd followed him and within seconds only Addy, Kara, and Eric remained.

“Addy, I’m sorry.” Eric watched Hank and the girls storm off. “Sorry for the papers, sorry for Hank. You don’t deserve this. You and Kara are probably the sweetest girls we have on this show. I’ve watched you the past two weeks—I know.” He sighed and raked a hand through his thinning blond hair.

“Thanks, Eric.” Addy sniffed, barely able to breathe through her tears.

“Come with me for a minute.” Eric pulled her behind the row of trailers. “I’ve got some news that will cheer you up, but it has to stay between us. All right?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” Eric spoke quietly, looking around as he continued. “I did go to film school, which is why I’m here. But I am currently a Secret Service agent working undercover.”

“Wow.”

“Shhh,” Eric whispered. “We can’t be too careful with the president’s son. So no one knows who I really am. The crew just thinks I’m one of the assistant directors, and that’s how it needs to stay.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“We discovered a problem with one of the show’s guards yesterday.”

“Oh no.” Addy put her hand over her heart. “Is Jonathon in trouble?”

“No, he wasn’t after Jonathon. He was selling information to the tabloids. He was the reason a photographer caught your golf date with Jonathon. No one was supposed to know any of you guys were out there.”

“That’s terrible,” Addy said.

“Here’s where the good news comes in.” Eric glanced around before going on. “I spoke to my superior. He served with your uncle back in the nineties.”

“Uncle Mike?”

“Yep. Small world, huh? They were both at MacDill Air Force Base.”

“But how did he know Mike was my uncle?”

“It’s our job to know everything about everybody who comes near the president’s son.”

“Oh,” Addy said.

“My boss wants to bring Mike in to replace the guard we just fired.”

Addy forced herself not to jump up and down and scream. “That’s wonderful.”

“He’s coming tomorrow,” Eric said. “But you can’t let anyone know you’re related.”

“Why?”

“It’s just better that way. Trust me.”

“But won’t Hank and the other producers know?”

“The lawyers keep all that information, and they work in LA,” Eric reassured Addy. “No one here, least of all Hank, has even looked at that paperwork. Hank doesn’t even know the names of the crew.”

That was true. Just yesterday she had seen Hank walk up to a cameraman and lift the name tag from the man’s lanyard before addressing him. Even then, Hank had mispronounced the man’s name.

Addy returned to her trailer with a skip in her step.

Uncle Mike is coming!

Chapter 19

U
ncle Mike,” Addy whispered. Addy had left her trailer an hour earlier, sneaking away when Hank had gone for his weekly collagen injection. She was sitting on her favorite stump in the woods looking carefully around to make sure no cameramen were hiding anywhere in the vicinity. Eric had promised to send Mike to her as soon as they arrived from the airport.

Mike hugged Addy, holding her longer than normal. He held her face in his hands. “Are you all right, Addy-girl? If I’d known what a mess this show would be, I’d never have made you do it.”

“Oh, Uncle Mike, it’s all right. Hard, but all right. God has me here for a reason. I am sure of that.”

That reason is to make me depend on God more because I’m being attacked from all sides
.
But Uncle Mike doesn’t need to know that. He’s worried enough about me
.

“Well, glad to hear it.” He hugged her again before sitting down on the damp forest floor. He took a deep breath. “Smell that air, Addy. Nothing like it.”

She smiled. She had known Mike would like the grounds. He’d probably be trying to talk Eric into letting him camp out here instead of being put up in a nearby hotel with the other security guards.

“As long as you’re okay, I’m okay. I was worried for a while. We were all worried.” He picked up a leaf and examined it.

“How’s Lexi?”

“Shoot.” Mike laughed. “You know Lexi. She’d probably be a better security guard than me. She’d just squash anyone who came near you.”

“She has texted me about twenty times a day. I miss her.”

“She misses you too, Addy-girl. Everybody does. The kids have Go Addy posters up all over school, and the Lawrences call every couple of days to check in and see how you’re doing.”

I don’t think I appreciated how great my life is until I left it for a while
.

“Listen, I can’t stay long. I’m on the job, after all,” Mike said. “I get to meet this Hank in a little bit. It’s going to take all I have not to just rip his head off.” Uncle Mike shook his head, and Addy knew he wasn’t kidding. Mike was a full head taller than Hank and 250 pounds of pure muscle. He could easily hurt Hank if he wanted to.

“I brought you something I think you’ll like.” He lifted a backpack from his back and handed it to Addy, his eyes moist. “These are your mama’s journals. She kept them from the time she arrived in Colombia until the day she . . . well, until the Lord took her home.” He twisted his mustache and coughed. “I’ve been saving them for you. I knew the Lord would tell me when you were ready to read ’em. I think now is that time.”

Tears filled Addy’s eyes as she took the surprisingly heavy pack from her uncle, unzipping it to find half a dozen leather-bound notebooks. Uncle Mike patted her arm and walked away, wiping his eyes, leaving Addy alone with the journals.

She pulled out the first, dated over twenty years ago. She smiled at her mother’s handwriting, so tiny and perfect. Her mom drew little pictures of flowers and trees and sunsets in the margins. Addy took a breath and began reading.

We’re here! We’re actually here. The plane ride was fine. Bumpy, but Josh and I were so excited we barely noticed. As the clouds broke through, we saw glimpses of Central and South America—rain forests. They are so green. I couldn’t wait to get down there and explore them in person. Getting off the plane, finding our luggage, and using our horrible Spanish was a challenge, but we managed to get everything and meet up with the Collinses who drove us over the bumpy roads to their home in Mitú.

From there, we were on foot. Or canoe. We left some things with the Collinses and packed the rest in the big backpacks we brought. Our guide, Jose, led us into the jungle. Josh and I, I’m sure, annoyed him with all our questions and “oohs” and “aahs” at seeing the foliage for the first time.

We eventually found the village—three days later. And we saw the beautiful people God had called us to serve. Our Quechua is even worse than our Spanish, but thankfully, news of our coming had reached the people in the village so they were expecting us. They looked through our bags and tried to ask us what all the medical equipment was for, but of course, we didn’t know how to explain it all to them. Then they helped us put together a little lean-to to sleep in for the night. Josh and I praised God for getting us here safely, and we prayed for these sweet people. I can’t wait to know them better.