Adored by You (San Diego Marines #7)

280 Pages·2020·0.34 MB·english

by  Jess Mastorakos [Mastorakos

ADORED BY YOU
SAN DIEGO MARINES, BOOK SEVEN
JESS MASTORAKOS
Copyright © 2020 by Jess Mastorakos
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and
retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Photography By: Naomie Ross
Cover Models: Real Marine Corps couple, Andrea & Dustin Rits
Edited By: Krista Dapkey, KD Publishing
Publisher’s note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and situations are a product of the author’s imagination. Any
similarities to real people, places, or things is purely coincidental.
To get a free copy of the prequel, Forever with You, visit: http://jessmastorakos.com/forever-with-you
1
PAIGE
“S
he can’t be serious.” I pulled my sunglasses down, eyeing each member of my team, looking for
signs they were messing with me. They stood in a loose half-circle around me, their solemn
expressions and black business attire in stark contrast to the sparkling pool and unobstructed view of
LA behind them.
“She is,” my manager-slash-father said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“But when we talked that day at lunch, she said I was a front runner,” I protested.
Sharon, my agent, shrugged. “You still are. I’m just not confident she’ll choose you over the other
front runners.”
I hid my eye roll with my dark sunglasses and leaned back, retreating into my egg-shaped wicker
chair. “I don’t understand how I’m supposed to branch out if no one can see me in any role other than
Dr. Young.”
“You realize that ending your time on the show means ending it for everyone else too, right?”
My lips twitched as I stared at my dad. I’d started calling him by his first name a few years ago
when his role as my dad had been all but replaced by that of my manager. “That’s what they tell me,
Rich.”
“And that doesn’t bother you? Putting that many members of the cast and crew out of a job?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t think it’s fair to put that on me.”
“Paige, grow up,” he shot back. “You’re the whole show. Dr. Lacey Young is Young, MD. If you
leave, there is no show.”
The other members of my team shifted their weight uncomfortably. My publicist and personal
assistant didn’t have any skin in the game when it came to which jobs I took, but my manager and
agent each earned ten percent of my annual contract with the show. It made sense that they’d want me
to sign on for season nine, whether I wanted to or not. There was no guarantee my next job would
come anytime soon, especially considering the news that yet another director didn’t think I was the
right fit for the leading role in her movie.
I adjusted my position in the chair, grateful for the breeze coming through the holes in the wicker
cocoon around me. “I work with very talented people on Young, MD. I have no doubt they’ll be able
to find work after the show ends. And if one of these directors would take a chance on me stepping
out of this role, we’ll find work for me, too. But keeping the show going until it dies a sad death is
probably bad for my career don’t you think?”
“The ratings are still great, Paige. The show isn’t dying a sad death,” Rich said.
“Oh, so it’s just me then? Great.” I picked up my paper fan and unfurled it with a snap, instantly
calmed by the cool air it provided as I moved my wrist from side to side. The egg chair was usually
my favorite spot to relax in my paradise of a backyard, but my team was ruining it with their negative
vibes.
Molly, my best friend and personal assistant for the last six years, snorted from behind Rich. She
covered her mistake with a coughing fit, and I was reminded again why I love her. My dad took
himself and his job as my manager too seriously sometimes, and Molly knew better than anyone how I
felt about him and my time on the show. She encouraged me to follow my heart and branch out, and
her presence in the conversation gave me the strength to stick to my guns.
I sat up straight. “Let’s get back to the movie. Is there any way we can sway the director into
picking me for the role?”
Rich and Sharon looked at each other, and I could see the unspoken words between them with that
one look. But screw them. They were only thinking about their bottom line and I knew it. After eight
years on Young, MD, I needed a change. If they wouldn’t support me, I’d leave anyway, and there
were plenty of other people in the business I could find to manage my career and find me jobs. People
who cared about what I wanted and not just what they wanted from me.
“I may have an idea,” Joy, my publicist, spoke up for the first time.
I grinned at her. “Tell me.”
“The director’s son is a Marine,” she said. “A Marine asked you to the Marine Corps Birthday
Ball last year. Do you remember?”
My smile faltered as images of Noah’s bright smile flashed through my mind. “Yep.”
“Why don’t you reach out to him and see if the offer stands for this year’s ball?” she asked.
Rich frowned, looking back and forth between us. “What’s this about?”
“It’s just a thing Marines do,” Joy explained. “They invite celebrities to the ball for bragging
rights. Plus, you know, it’s good PR for the celeb. Mila and Justin have done it.”
“Timberlake?” he asked.
She nodded. “The one and only. I never understood why you had me ignore him last year, Paige. I
thought his invitation post was so sweet.”
Rich narrowed his eyes at me. “Because it wasn’t just any Marine was it?”
“Nope.” I retreated into the egg-shaped chair again, wishing the darn thing had a door so I could
slam it shut on this conversation.
Joy stepped forward. “I’m just saying, I think it would give you an edge if you showed your
support for the military like that. Taking time out of your busy schedule to go to the ball with him, you
know? Plus, he was in San Diego, which happens to be where the director lives and is where the
movie is being filmed.”
“How serendipitous,” I deadpanned.
“Indeed,” Rich agreed. “You didn’t tell me about the invitation.”
I shrugged. “Didn’t know I had to.”
He didn’t have an answer to that, so he turned back to my publicist. “It was a good thought, Joy,
but she ignored him last year because she knows I don’t want her anywhere near that moron.”
Quirking a brow, I leaned forward. That wasn’t exactly true. But it was interesting that even after
eight years, my dad was still firmly anti-Noah.
“I’m sorry,” Joy blurted, “I didn’t realize you knew him, Paige.”
“It was a long time ago,” Rich replied for me, waving a hand. “She doesn’t anymore.”
“Purely from the business angle, it’s not a bad idea,” Sharon said. She looked at her watch as if
her time was running out for this meeting. She was a top agent in the industry and likely had other
clients to see. “If she really wants to do the movie, that might be her best shot at standing out from the
other front runners. Military moms are a proud bunch. She’d likely appreciate the gesture of support.”
“Well, if that’s the only thing that’s going to secure the part, I guess she’s not doing the movie,”
Rich said as if it were obvious.
I pulled my sunglasses off and looked directly at Joy. “Set it up.”
All around me, the reactions from my team varied. Rich barked out a bitter laugh, tossing his
hands up in surrender before walking away. Molly did a subtle fist pump in the air, likely proud of me
for standing up to my dad and doing what I wanted to do. Joy, quick-to-action as always, flipped open
the case on her iPad and started tapping on the screen. Sharon held out her hands as if to say, “That
settles it,” and pulled her phone out, following my dad into the Spanish-style villa.
“I found him,” Joy said, looking up from her iPad. “Sergeant Noah West. He’s stationed at Marine
Corps Air Station Miramar in San Diego. Do you want me to direct message him or do you want to do
it?”
I looked at Molly. As one of the only people in my world who knew about Noah West and what he
meant to me, I needed her opinion before I answered Joy.
“I think you should do it,” Molly said. “Especially since you didn’t even respond to him last year.
It’s probably better for you to DM him personally, rather than have your publicist do it. At least, you
know, if you want him to say yes.”
“Solid point,” I said. My hands shook as I reached for my phone beside me on the plush cushion. I
opened my social media app and hit the search icon, then took a deep breath and looked up at Joy.
“What’s his username?”
“West Case Scenario.”
I snorted, pulling up his account. “Got him.”
My breath caught in my throat as I scrolled through the photos of Noah West. He had definitely
aged well in the last eight years. I’d intentionally stayed away from his profile all this time because I
knew how much it would wreck me to watch his life unfold and not be part of it. Even when Joy had
told me about the birthday ball invitation last year, I’d resisted the urge to look once she’d told me his
name. Hopping on his feed for the first time ever was like opening up the floodgates.
Memories washed over me as I scanned the photos. I opened a close-up of his face, my eyes
landing on his full lips. I was instantly transported back in time, remembering how soft his lips were
even if it was the fiercest of kisses. His bright blue eyes reminded me of the way he used to wink at
me from across the room, letting me—and everyone else—know that I was always on his mind. And
even though it had been eight years, I’d be lying if I said thoughts of him never crossed mine.
“What are you going to say?” Molly asked, breaking into my thoughts.
I looked up to find that Joy had left at some point during my stalking of Noah’s feed. Now that it
was just me and Molly, I relaxed. “Um, how about, ‘Hey, Noah, how have you been? I know it’s been
a while, and I know I ignored your ball invite last year, but can I go with you this year? It would be
really great for my career.’”
Molly wrinkled her nose. “Hmm. Maybe not.”
“Do you really think it would help me get the part if I went with him? Or am I just opening up a
can of worms for nothing?”
She bit her lip, glancing at the house behind me, then came over and sat on the short table in front
of my chair. “Paige, this is Noah we’re talking about. If you ask me, he’s the reason every relationship
you’ve had in the last few years hasn’t worked out. You’ve got him up on this pedestal of being the
one who got away. I think it’s time you take him down so you can move on with your life.”
Harsh words from my closest friend made me zone out on the LA skyline that stretched out behind
her, not wanting to admit she might be right. “Do you really think so?”
“Yeah, I mean, I know there were a few jerks thrown in there,” she fake-coughed the name Chase,
“but I think some part of you is still holding on to Noah and it’s not letting you move on. Even when
you date a really great guy, something always gets in the way … and that something might be your
rose-colored memories of Noah.”
“So, what, you think going to the ball with him will show me he’s not as amazing as I remember?”
Molly reached out and patted my knee. “I think it’ll show you he’s just a guy, Paige. He’s just a
guy you dated when you were eighteen and it’s okay to let him go. Plus, you know, there’s the added
benefit of being seen with him to get you in the director’s good graces.”
“Like killing two birds with one stone?”
“Exactly,” she replied.
2
NOAH
I
don’t know how long I stood there while my eyes focused on the small writing on my
smartwatch. Several times, the screen timed out, and I had to shake my wrist for it to come back
on and show me the social media notification again.
@therealpaigewalker wants to send you a message
Why on earth would the real Paige Walker want to send me a message? I hadn’t heard a peep from
her in eight years. And when I’d used this very same social media account to make a post inviting her
to last year’s Marine Corps ball, she couldn’t even bother to react or respond to it. Now she wanted
to send me a message? Maybe I should just ignore it. Better yet, maybe I should read it and then
ignore it. I bet that’s what happened to me last year.
I dropped my arm and sighed, looking up and down the crowded outdoor mall. I knew my friends
were just around the corner at the jewelry store shopping for an engagement ring for O’Malley’s girl.
I could head over there and ask for their advice.
I took a step in that direction only to stop short. This was a big moment for O’Malley. And he was
sharing it with his son and his brother. Not knowing whether I should open a message from my ex-
girlfriend seemed to pale in comparison to picking out the perfect engagement ring. Even if my ex-
girlfriend was one of the most famous actresses on American television.
As if to illustrate my point, I turned back toward the parking lot and came face-to-face with a
billboard for her show, Young, MD. Paige Walker. There she was, in all of her glory. Her thick, curly
hair fell over her shoulders. She wore navy blue scrubs and a stethoscope around her neck. Her full
lips were twisted into a sassy smile, with one hand clutching medical charts to her chest and the other
hand holding the side of her glasses.
I tore my gaze from her dark brown eyes and found her character’s two best friends standing
shoulder to shoulder in the background of the poster, with this season’s love interest and last season’s
love interest in a thought bubble above Paige’s head. After eight years on air, the show had gone from
a female version of Doogie Howser, MD to your average romantic dramedy set in a hospital. And I
had to admit, the plot was getting a little ridiculous. Not that I watched it.
Okay, fine, I tortured myself by watching every episode. It was a problem.
A wooden bench stood directly in front of the poster, and almost as if I were on autopilot, my feet
took me there and I sat. I put my shopping bag next to me and pulled out my phone, taking a deep
breath as I opened the social media app and clicked on the direct message with her username.
therealpaigewalker: Hi, Noah.
I rolled my eyes and threw my head back. All of that anxiety for two words? Unbelievable. I sent