Page 28 of Stone Promises

“This is incredible,” she says, enjoying the awe-inspiring view. “How far up are we?”

“Twenty-five floors,” I tell her. “So almost three-hundred feet I’d say.”

“Do you have a place like this out in L.A.?” she asks.

“I used to. But not anymore.”

“Why not?”

“I sold it along with three of my cars.”

She gasps. “You had three cars?”

“Four,” I tell her. “I kept one of them.”

It’s hard for me to keep my eyes focused on her face. It’s chilly out here and her nipples are standing at full attention under the thin fabric of her blouse. “Uh, do you want to go back inside, it’s pretty cold out here.”

“It’s nice. I like it,” she says, blowing out a deep breath that turns to smoke as she exhales. “So why did you sell your high-rise apartment and three of your cars?”

“Because I’ve changed.” I walk up next to her and join her taking in the stunning view. It’s one of the things I had taken for granted during those years. Watching her look wide-eyed at the city below is fascinating. She sees it like a little girl who’s looking over the city for the first time. “I went wild those first few years. I bought everything money could buy. And when I got my inheritance, things just got worse.”

She turns to me, holding my eyes with hers. “You keep saying you’ve changed. But what do you mean exactly?” I see her shiver and she wraps her arms around herself. “And what was it that made you want to change?”

I position myself behind her so that we’re both looking over the city. It’s truth time and I’m not sure I want her looking at me when she hears it. I rub her arms to try and keep her warm. “When I got signed forMalibu, my life changed in ways I could have never imagined. I was seventeen—just a kid. I wasn’t equipped to handle it. Money was rolling in. Everyone wanted a piece of me. Hollywood doesn’t care how old you are, it just careswhoyou are. Booze, drugs, women—they were all thrown at me like it was no big deal. My parents tried to keep me grounded, but there was only so much they could do. They worked all the time and I was good at hiding things from them early on. And then when I turned eighteen, I moved out, giving them no say at all. That’s when things got really bad.”

She nods. “That’s when I got that horrible email from you, when you were eighteen.”

“What email?”

“The one that wasn’t meant for me. I think you had intended for Julian to get it. You wrote about sleeping with one of your co-stars. You wrote about it graphically. I sent you an email back, don’t you remember it?”

I close my eyes, absorbing the words she just said. And for the millionth time, I berate myself for the asshole I became. I can’t imagine how horrible that must have been for her. “God, Mallory, I’m so sorry. I wish I could say I remember it, but there is a lot of stuff I don’t. Things that were important to me like friends and family just stopped being a priority for me once I started doing drugs. The only thing that mattered was when I could get my next high.”

She turns around, our bodies so close I can feel the heat radiating from hers. “What happened to change all that?”

“You mean, what was my rock bottom?”

She nods.

“You might hate me if I tell you.”

“I’m willing to risk it,” she says.

“Maybe I’m not.” I walk away from her and sit down on one of the lounge chairs. “This week has been one of the best I’ve had in years, Mal. Seeing you after all this time, it’s better than I imagined. I feel like a kid again.”

She takes the seat next to me. “You say you want to be friends again, Chad?”

“I do. More than anything.”

“Then help me understand you,” she says. “Because you hurt me back then. And I need to know it won’t happen again.”

“I hurt a lot of people back then, Mallory.” I sit forward and put my elbows on my knees. “I’d like to say hurting you was what I regret the most, but I can’t. I’ve done worse. And I promised myself I would never do anything like that again.” I look up and our eyes meet. “I promise you I’ll never hurt you.”

“Well, that’s the thing, Chad. You’ve broken so many promises before, I don’t know if I can trust you.”

I nod in agreement. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“You say you’ll never hurt me. You promised that once before, you know, that you’d never let anyone hurt me,” she says. “Do you remember that? I was six and you were seven and those bullies at the bus stop were making fun of me, and then I ran away and tripped over my own feet. You helped me up and then you stood up to them. They towered over you by a foot and you stood up to them and then you promised me you’d never let anyone hurt me again. But the irony is, you are the one who hurt me most of all.”

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