“Wasn’t it?”

“No. It’s that I didn’t think that I could stand the strain of knowing I might lose you at any minute the same way I lost him.” My voice is tight with emotion, and I exhale noisily. “But it doesn’t matter anyway, does it? Because you don’t like this city. And once you catch my stalker, you’re going to leave. Aren’t you?”

He’s silent for a moment, then he says, “Is that what you want?”

I lick my lips, suddenly unsure. I can’t imagine living with that fear every day. I don’t know how my mother did it. She died of complications following surgery three years before my father did. I sometimes wonder if in some way that was a relief to her. Or is it just simply proof that worrying about the obvious dangers is foolish, because the unexpected ones will get you anyway?

“I don’t know,” I say after a moment, realizing I haven’t answered his question. But how can I? I want the man. But I also want certainty and safety. Or at least as much certainty as is humanly possible.

“You love this town,” he says after a moment.

“I do.” I want to turn and see his eyes, but I don’t. These are things we’ve never talked about, and they’re important. And I don’t want to stop—or risk doing anything that makes him stop. “But it’s mostly my job that I love,” I admit.

“Lyle?”

“Partly. Working for him is great. But I truly love Hollywood. If they moved the heart of the film industry somewhere else, I’d follow.” I draw in a breath, and then tell him the real truth. “I want to be part of making happy endings,” I admit. “I can’t act or produce or direct or any of that. But I can help. I can make a difference for the ones who craft the stories, and that matters.”

“It does,” he agrees.

“The stories matter, too. To the public, sure, but also to me. I need to be part of the fairy tale. Honestly, even though I was born in LA, I sought out Hollywood. I came to it because it was my due. Because in my real world, when Cinderella lost her shoe, it ended up tossed in a junk heap. And Sleeping Beauty got tetanus from that damn needle prick.”

I take a breath. “I wanted to help make happily ever afters, and if I couldn’t do it in real life, then I’d help do it on the screen in whatever way I could wrangle.”

“I get that,” he says. “There’s not much that’s more important than making your own happy ending.”