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Chapters (54)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Epigraph
  5. Prologue
  6. Friday
  7. (Gabe Parker: Shaken, Not Stirred—Part One)
  8. Then
  9. Chapter 1
  10. Chapter 2
  11. Chapter 3
  12. Chapter 4
  13. Chapter 5
  14. Chapter 6
  15. Now
  16. Chapter 7
  17. Chapter 8
  18. Chapter 9
  19. Chapter 10
  20. Saturday
  21. (Gabe Parker: Shaken, Not Stirred—Part Two)
  22. Then
  23. Chapter 11
  24. Chapter 12
  25. Chapter 13
  26. Chapter 14
  27. Now
  28. Chapter 15
  29. Chapter 16
  30. Chapter 17
  31. Chapter 18
  32. Sunday
  33. (Gabe Parker: Shaken, Not Stirred—Part Three)
  34. Then
  35. Chapter 19
  36. Chapter 20
  37. Chapter 21
  38. Now
  39. Chapter 22
  40. Chapter 23
  41. Chapter 24
  42. Chapter 25
  43. Chapter 26
  44. Chapter 27
  45. Monday
  46. (Gabe Parker: Shaken, Not Stirred—Part Four)
  47. Then
  48. Chapter 28
  49. Now
  50. Chapter 29
  51. Chapter 30
  52. Dedication
  53. Acknowledgments
  54. About the Author

But it was a drunken incident on the third Bond set that seemed to be the final straw for Parker, who had been labeled as “difficult” and “combative.” The film had already been delayed once due to Parker’s behavior, but it seemed that his time away did nothing to fix the tensions on set. A video of the moment when Parker confronted the director, Ryan Ulrich, went viral. Although most of the footage is out of focus and the conversation at times is hard to make out, several sources have confirmed that things had been tense between Parker and Ulrich since the very first Bond movie they did together.

After he was fired, Parker’s team released a statement that read, in part, “Gabe is proud of the work he’s done as the first American Bond, and looks forward to seeing who will be the next to step into the legendary icon’s shoes.”

The day after, he checked into rehab.

Chapter 10

Chapter
10

THERE’S NO REASON I SHOULD be following Gabe in his car right now. The interview is over. I should be heading home to get dinner with Katie and type up my notes. But, because I’ve learned literally nothing from the last time I did this, I’m driving in the opposite direction of where I need to go.

It takes me a while to realize that I recognize the windy road we’re going up. Like the restaurant, things are different, but it’s a subtle difference. Different landscaping on some of the houses, a few new structures and some unexpected paint jobs.

His house, however, hasn’t changed.

He pulls into the driveway and gestures for me to do the same. I nose carefully into the space, leaving a wide berth between my Honda Civic and his top-of-the-line Tesla.

Just another reminder of how different our lives are. How different they’ve always been.

I’m angry. It’s an anger I don’t fully understand, but I know it’s hiding something else. At least, that’s what my therapist thinks.

“You go to rage first,” she’s told me. “It’s your safe place when emotions are high.”

If that’s true then it makes sense. Because it’s not as simple as being mad at Gabe for lying to me about Jacinda ten years ago. I’m full of a thousand nameless, conflicting emotions right now. If I’m being fair to myself, I’ve been churning with them since I got the assignment.

And anger is easier.