with anything if he had the power, just so he could have the chance to be with her again. "I would have at least talked to her. Not given her a record."
"She's dangerous. She was wielding a sledgehammer. Plus, did you even notice how many people were taking pictures and videos?"
"No."
"Exactly, because you don't think about things like your image."
"I do. I was going to get her information and settle things." He would have gotten her phone number and made sure she didn't forget who he was this time.
"Do you know what your problem is?"
Chance started to grin, despite his annoyance. That phrase was one his friend's favorites. "I bet you're going to tell me."
"You're too nice. I mean how much did you get for that bit part in the indie movie you just finished?"
"I didn't do it for the money. The script was great and I got to work with actors who I respect."
"Actors whose names are already bigger than yours. How do you expect to stand out?"
"I don't." He knew that Tyson didn't understand. Chance loved to act and working with masters of the craft had been an exhilarating experience for him. Sure, his role in his last film had been small, but it had been a way for him to learn and grow. He'd started his own production company with Tyson so that he could do indie productions and keep his life interesting, plus have another income stream while he also helped other artists. He'd been fortunate enough to have a regular role on a hit TV show so he didn't have to scramble for different roles.
"Listen, you have the looks of a movie star, you don't want to end up as just a character actor. You have to be more strategic about the roles you take. Shave the beard and be the man women swoon over."
Chance absently rubbed his beard. "I'm shaving it soon. I have to be on the set in a few weeks. It will be gone by then." He sighed. Maybe the beard had been the reason why she hadn't recognized him. And, it had been more than ten years ago. Besides, he wasn't the gangly man in his early twenties anymore. He wondered what had happened to her. What had made her so upset? He hated that his friend had added to her misery by refusing to drop the charges no matter how right and logical it seemed.
Tyson rolled his eyes reading the expression on Chance's face. "Forget about her."
Chance sent him a look. "It's not that easy."
"It's not like she's a real looker anyway."
"She used to be."
"What?"
Chance silently swore annoyed by his slip. "Nothing. I'm just saying maybe she used to be."
"Maybe," Tyson allowed but sounded doubtful.
Chance gritted his teeth hating the tone of disbelief in his friend's words. He knew that Stacy hadn't always looked so unremarkable and average. She'd once brightened a room with her laughter, her brown sparkling eyes always making him feel she knew something about life he didn't and he'd wanted her to teach him. Back then, her chestnut skin was always draped in colorful scarves and she loved wearing an array of artistic jewelry. She'd had an arresting beauty--now it was faded. He'd seen an angry, defeated figure that broke his heart. He heard Tyson say something, but his friend's words merely sounded like a buzz in his ears. "What?"
"I said she could have been a stalker."
Chance returned his gaze to the window watching a bicycle messenger, with a bright red helmet, zip through traffic. "She didn't even recognize me."
"She was lying."
"She wasn't lying. Trust me, contrary to what you think, not everyone knows who I am."
"Enough do. Important people. Fortunately, I could take action because it was my car."
"You sold it to me." Chance turned from the window, his look hard.
Tyson held up his hands in a semi act of surrender. "Yes, yes, I know, but we hadn't made it official yet, so I could file the complaint. Forget about her. Let me handle things. It could be useful in the future."
The future . Right now thinking of Stacy didn't make him think of the future. Just his past and how far he'd come. Back to a time
"She's dangerous. She was wielding a sledgehammer. Plus, did you even notice how many people were taking pictures and videos?"
"No."
"Exactly, because you don't think about things like your image."
"I do. I was going to get her information and settle things." He would have gotten her phone number and made sure she didn't forget who he was this time.
"Do you know what your problem is?"
Chance started to grin, despite his annoyance. That phrase was one his friend's favorites. "I bet you're going to tell me."
"You're too nice. I mean how much did you get for that bit part in the indie movie you just finished?"
"I didn't do it for the money. The script was great and I got to work with actors who I respect."
"Actors whose names are already bigger than yours. How do you expect to stand out?"
"I don't." He knew that Tyson didn't understand. Chance loved to act and working with masters of the craft had been an exhilarating experience for him. Sure, his role in his last film had been small, but it had been a way for him to learn and grow. He'd started his own production company with Tyson so that he could do indie productions and keep his life interesting, plus have another income stream while he also helped other artists. He'd been fortunate enough to have a regular role on a hit TV show so he didn't have to scramble for different roles.
"Listen, you have the looks of a movie star, you don't want to end up as just a character actor. You have to be more strategic about the roles you take. Shave the beard and be the man women swoon over."
Chance absently rubbed his beard. "I'm shaving it soon. I have to be on the set in a few weeks. It will be gone by then." He sighed. Maybe the beard had been the reason why she hadn't recognized him. And, it had been more than ten years ago. Besides, he wasn't the gangly man in his early twenties anymore. He wondered what had happened to her. What had made her so upset? He hated that his friend had added to her misery by refusing to drop the charges no matter how right and logical it seemed.
Tyson rolled his eyes reading the expression on Chance's face. "Forget about her."
Chance sent him a look. "It's not that easy."
"It's not like she's a real looker anyway."
"She used to be."
"What?"
Chance silently swore annoyed by his slip. "Nothing. I'm just saying maybe she used to be."
"Maybe," Tyson allowed but sounded doubtful.
Chance gritted his teeth hating the tone of disbelief in his friend's words. He knew that Stacy hadn't always looked so unremarkable and average. She'd once brightened a room with her laughter, her brown sparkling eyes always making him feel she knew something about life he didn't and he'd wanted her to teach him. Back then, her chestnut skin was always draped in colorful scarves and she loved wearing an array of artistic jewelry. She'd had an arresting beauty--now it was faded. He'd seen an angry, defeated figure that broke his heart. He heard Tyson say something, but his friend's words merely sounded like a buzz in his ears. "What?"
"I said she could have been a stalker."
Chance returned his gaze to the window watching a bicycle messenger, with a bright red helmet, zip through traffic. "She didn't even recognize me."
"She was lying."
"She wasn't lying. Trust me, contrary to what you think, not everyone knows who I am."
"Enough do. Important people. Fortunately, I could take action because it was my car."
"You sold it to me." Chance turned from the window, his look hard.
Tyson held up his hands in a semi act of surrender. "Yes, yes, I know, but we hadn't made it official yet, so I could file the complaint. Forget about her. Let me handle things. It could be useful in the future."
The future . Right now thinking of Stacy didn't make him think of the future. Just his past and how far he'd come. Back to a time
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