Page 28 of A Secret Escape

She wasn’t used to doing nothing. When she wasn’t on set, she was reading scripts, memorizing lines and letting herself sink into the character she was to become. There was no time to be herself.

She’d had her first big break at nineteen while she was still in college and an agent had seen her performance on stage. Since then, she’d worked nonstop. She’d spent so much of her life playing other people she no longer knew who she was. Acting roles had brought her accolades and adulation. Being herself was unlikely to have the same effect.

Who was she when she wasn’t acting? And would anyone really like that person?

Unsettled by her own thoughts she stood up and headed to the kitchen to make herself a coffee.

Maybe she’d delve through Milly’s books and find something to read. She had decisions to make. She needed to work out what to do, but she didn’t feel ready to confront her reality.

She picked up her mug and was halfway across the room when she heard a rap on the door.

“Milly?”

Nicole froze as she heard the male voice. Milly had said that no one came to her cabin, but apparently today someone had decided to do just that. That was unlikely to be a coincidence, surely?

Panic closed in on her, and she tried to reason with herself. No one had seen her arrive. It wasn’t possible. Or was it? No, this wasn’t someone looking for her. It was someone looking for Milly. And when they didn’t get an answer, they were going to leave.

She heard the sound of the door opening and the voice came again, louder and closer.

“Milly? Are you there?”

He was inside the boathouse. Actually inside.

She hadn’t locked the door. How could she not have locked the door?

The mug slid from her shaking hands, sloshing boiling water over sensitive skin. She registered the scald, but only dimly because right now she was far more afraid of something else.

He was in the house.In the house.And she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t suck air into her lungs. Desperate, she grabbed a knife from the block on the kitchen counter, but her hand was shaking too much to do anything with it.

The crash of the mug on the slate floor brought the man striding into the kitchen, and he stopped when he saw her, his expression cycling through shock, surprise and then recognition.

Nicole clocked the exact moment it dawned on him who she was. She’d been through this scenario a thousand times in her life. It happened in restaurants or when she was walking down the street. People would glance at her, and then the glance would turn into a stare, and there was a moment of doubt:Is it her?Curiosity was usually followed by either a request for a selfie or an autograph or both.

She should tell him that Milly wasn’t here. She should tell him to go, but she couldn’t get her breathing steady enough to talk, and she saw his gaze go from her face to the knife.

“Okay.” He raised a hand. “I can see I scared you badly. I’m sorry. I was looking for Milly. You’re fine. Everything is fine. You should put the knife down.”

Her heart was beating frantically, and she felt a swirl of dizziness engulf her.

“I’m Joel.” His voice was calm and quiet. “I work here. I came to see Milly, that’s all. I’m a friend of Milly’s. I didn’t know you were here. Everything is fine.”

The words penetrated the cloud of panic in her head.

Joel. Milly had mentioned a Joel. The guy who built this place?

He wasn’t a stranger who had broken into her house. He wasn’t a photographer or a crazed fan.

He was Joel theeverything guy.

She repeated his name in her head, trying to calm herself, but she felt as if she was having a heart attack, her breathing coming in frantic gulps no matter how hard she tried to slow it.

She looked at him, terrified, and he nodded.

“You’re having a panic attack. And given that I’m the cause of it, I should probably leave, but I can’t leave you like this so I’ll call Milly—”

“No.” She pushed the word out and shook her head. “No.”

She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe slowly, as she’d been taught.

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