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some Mark Ocean movies. In fact, sometimes Leila couldn’t resist peeking at a car chase scene with him or watching him hang onto the edge of a cliff with one pinky finger.
    “Why are you reading that garbage?” Alan’s voice shook Leila out of her fog.
    “I opened the Arts section and there it was.” She leaned her head back and pursed her lips. “Give me a kiss.” Alan bent down and kissed his girlfriend.
    He ran his hands through his mussed hair and yawned. “Is there more coffee?”
    “Hm? Oh, yeah.” Leila continued to stare at the paper.
    Alan glanced at the newspaper and placed a mug firmly on the counter. “I’ve told you a thousand times that secrets have a way of coming out. It’s your decision, but I think you are going to have to tell her sometime. And sometime soon.”
    Leila closed her eyes. She didn’t want to have this conversation again with Alan. He just didn’t understand. “You’re up early, huh?”  she said. “Does this mean you’ll be here for dinner?”
    “Changing the subject, my dear? Yes, I’ll be home for dinner. Call me at the restaurant later and let me know if you want me to bring home anything special for my girls.” Alan filled his mug, kissed Leila on the top of the head, and whispered in her ear. “It’s better she hear it from you.” Alan padded out of the kitchen and headed for the shower.
    Leila stared at the photo again, crumpled the newspaper with both hands, and tossed it at the trash can. A perfect shot.
    Alan was right about most things, but in this case, he was dead wrong.
    Some secrets are meant to be kept. Forever.
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 5
     
    Mark Ocean drove his Mercedes SUV up the on-ramp and veered into the highway traffic, cutting off another car. The other driver leaned on his horn, and Mark quickly honked back. He pressed his foot to the gas and sped up, leaving the offended driver behind.
    “God, slow down, Mark!”
    “Don’t worry, babe. I’m a good driver. These guys just have to learn to stay out of my way.” Mark didn’t bother to look at the woman in the passenger seat. Was it Suzie or Swoosie? He hadn’t bothered to remember, but she had some great legs.
    Mark had more important things on his mind. His plummeting career, for instance. The Clone Faction was premiering in a month , and even Mark knew the movie was awful. Five years ago, he was the most sought-after action star in Hollywood, but these days Mark was making one bad movie after another. What was the problem? He was only thirty-five, he worked out for two hours a day, and he still had his good looks and a great head of hair. He tried to stay in the public eye and ate at every celebrity hot spot where the paparazzi were camped out twenty-four hours a day. But, Mark had to admit, the cameras were turning toward him with less urgency these days.
    Furthermore, getting turned away at that club last night had been humiliating. They used to beg him to show up and always kept a reserved table ready! He had been forced to go to another club owned by some overpaid teen actor who wasn’t even old enough to drink. The only other celebrity in sight had been an American Idol reject—and not even one of the top twelve, for God’s sake.
    Mark had played virtually the same character in his last four films. He was bored. Worse, there was a time years ago when he took interesting jobs between the action movies and was praised for his range and depth. Sure, Mark could still demand multimillion-dollar paychecks for his movies, but that wasn’t the point.
    If he could just get a meeting with the producer, Evan Dodd, who had it all—several commercially successful movies and an Academy Award. Right now he was producing a romantic comedy that Mark was itching to star in—a Jerry Maguire role that could transform his image overnight. But what could he say? Gee, Evan, I know I’ve been phoning it in for the last few years, but I’m ready to get back to the good stuff . No. He needed to