Chapters (54)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Epigraph
- Prologue
- Friday
- (Gabe Parker: Shaken, Not Stirred—Part One)
- Then
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Now
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Saturday
- (Gabe Parker: Shaken, Not Stirred—Part Two)
- Then
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Now
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Sunday
- (Gabe Parker: Shaken, Not Stirred—Part Three)
- Then
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Now
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Monday
- (Gabe Parker: Shaken, Not Stirred—Part Four)
- Then
- Chapter 28
- Now
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- 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.