Chasing Memories: The Forevermore Series, Book 2 Read Free Page B

accident.
    She pounded her fists on the smooth, glossy surface of the table. Why couldn’t she remember anything? It had been a little over a week, and not one memory had returned. Not one single flicker of remembrance.
    And the media… They’d been having a field day at her expense. The local San Francisco channels reported updates most days this week. On her. They rarely talked about Evelyn, sometimes didn’t even mention her name when the story ran, and how pathetic was that? Now, the news had traveled to Los Angeles.
    Why she’d been shocked, she couldn’t say. She should have known they’d get wind of the story somehow. Hollywood loved a good scandal, and it was only a matter of time before some industrious reporter made the connection between India Leone and India Miller, the famous child television star and daughter of legendary actress, Margret Miller.
    Her TV career ended ten years ago and she’d worked hard to overcome her troubled youth and live a normal, ordinary life. She’d succeeded until now, but the past had a way of kicking you in the teeth when you were down.
    The tabloids featured images of a strung-out sixteen-year-old India being checked into rehab next to a picture of her present-day self, lying unconscious in a hospital bed with headlines in bold print claiming she’d graduated from cocaine to crack. Accompanying articles implied she’d been driving Evelyn’s car, high as a kite, and her recklessness took Evelyn’s life. Under the threat of a lawsuit, the rags ran retractions and the nurse who’d allowed the reporter to snap the pictures at the hospital had been fired, but the damage was done.
    The part about her using again was an absolute lie. She’d been clean for ten years now, thank you very much, but the truth didn’t seem to matter. The truth didn’t sell papers.
    Her tirade yesterday afternoon hadn’t helped. One of those industrious reporters had found out where she lived and showed up on her doorstep firing off questions regarding her involvement in Evelyn’s death. She’d been upset, of course, so instead of remaining calm, she yelled at him to leave, then slammed the door in his face. Unfortunately, a cameraman captured the exchange on tape. A hysterical India appeared on the news a few hours later fueling the speculation put forth by the tabloids she’d relapsed and was using drugs once again, hence her retreat to the vineyard.
    Still, it was hard to refute what the scandal sheets said when she couldn’t remember the events leading up to the accident. While drugs hadn’t played a part in what happened, she worried something she’d done might have. The last time she’d lost her memory… No. This car accident had nothing to do with what happened before.
    “India,” a male voice rumbled.
    The sudden intrusion brought her back to the present. She jerked her head toward the sound. A tall, lanky man with chestnut-brown hair and gray eyes stood in the arched opening at the front of the room. “What are you doing here, Victor? And how did you get in?” Damn it. Victor had been another reason she’d fled to the vineyard. He’d come to see her in the hospital every day, had showed up at her apartment when she’d come home, and his phone calls… She’d stopped answering them.
    He rushed over to the sofa, pulled her to her feet and dragged her into his arms. “India, I was so worried when I went to your home and you weren’t there. Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”
    She wriggled free from his embrace. “We’re not together anymore and—” He reached out and grasped her hand in his. She pulled it away.
    “Darling, we’ve been through this. I didn’t cheat on you. It was all a huge misunderstanding, and we’ve kissed and made up.”
    She didn’t remember them getting back together. “No.” What she did remember was arriving at his place and him freaking out when he’d opened the door and found her on the other side, then a disheveled,