CHAPTER ONE
Serena Britten had dreamed of this forever.
Not bright lights and designer dresses and fame and meeting rock stars...but an enormous library with more books than she could possibly get through even if she stayed right here for an entire lifetime and just read and read and read. In the past two weeks, Green Library had become her absolute favorite place on earth, with its endless shelves of books.
Oh yes, she thought as she smiled and ran her fingertips over the spines of the books nearest to her, it really was just wonderful.
At 9:45 on a Friday night on the Stanford University campus, there weren’t many other students in the library. In fact, as she emerged from between the stacks, it didn’t actually look like there were any other students here. Just Serena and the woman behind the privileges desk who was looking at her watch, obviously waiting for her to leave so that she could close everything up and start her weekend.
Serena checked out the three great new books she’d found, then took a baseball cap out of her bag and put it on, tucking her long hair up into it. Due to the Indian summer in Northern California over the past couple of weeks, it was still fairly warm, but since it was too dark out to wear sunglasses, putting on a hat and a shapeless Cardinals sweatshirt helped increase the odds that she could walk past people unnoticed, particularly any paparazzi who might be lurking in the shadows. She was used to strangers wanting to take pictures with her, and most of the time they were really nice. It was just that sometimes guys made her feel uncomfortable by standing a little too close or by making borderline dirty comments about pictures they’d seen of her.
If only she could wear a disguise in her History and Theory of the Novel class. Her professor, Dr. Julian Fairworth, had actually made her skin crawl today when he’d looked at her like he was trying to see through her jeans to what lay beneath. Despite the warmth of the evening, she shivered at the memory of the way he’d walked by her seat just a little too close and had bent over the book in front of her just a little too far when she’d asked him a question.
Serena had met plenty of lecherous men in Hollywood and on photo shoots over the years, but her mother had always been there to scare them away. This was the first time Serena had to deal with them all on her own.
Which was exactly what you wanted, she reminded herself as she breathed deeply to take in the sweet-smelling night air. The freedom to make her own decisions about school. Career. Clothes. Men.
Life.
Serena’s mother, Genevieve, had taken her to her first modeling open call when she was three years old, and for the past sixteen years, she’d worked nonstop all over the world. Her mother was the quintessential “momager”...or rather, she had been until two weeks ago, when Serena had left it all behind.
* * *
Two weeks ago...
“Mom, I need to talk to you.”
Genevieve Britten was carefully studying a layout Serena had been in for a French fashion magazine, taking detailed notes of every brilliant nuance the other models displayed in the photos and where Serena needed to make improvements to stay competitive.
“You’ve looked better,” her mother said without looking up from her intent study of the pages, “but, fortunately, you still outshine the other girls.” Her upper lip curled slightly as she pointed at a sixteen-year-old model who Serena remembered had been extremely nervous about her first big job. “I still can’t believe they let this one do the shoot without losing ten pounds first.”
The girl was gorgeous and not at all in need of losing any weight. But Serena knew better than to try to debate this with her mother. Especially not when she’d finally reached the make-or-break point where she needed to tell her the big news.
“I’m going to Stanford.”
Genevieve didn’t even raise her eyes from the magazine. “Did Damien book a college shoot that he forgot to tell me about?”
“What I mean is that I’m going to be attending Stanford University. As a freshman.” When her mother finally lifted her gaze from the pictures, Serena added, “In two weeks.”
Every time Serena brought up the possibility of college during the past few years, Genevieve had laughed and asked what she could possibly want with college when, as a model, the world was already her oyster? It wasn’t that her mother didn’t have a point. Most people probably would think she was totally nuts for walking away from her career for college. But even if what she was doing didn’t make sense to anyone else, it made sense to her.
All her life, she’d loved books. Loved the smell of them and the feel of them in her hands. To read across genres and subjects in every spare moment, and dream up stories of her own. She didn’t yet know if she wanted to write books or study books or edit books or publish books or sell books, but that was what college was for, wasn’t it? To throw herself into new experiences, some that would hopefully turn out great, others that might not be quite as good…but to know through it all that she’d never regret really, truly—finally—getting to live her life.
“Is this a joke?”
Serena shook her head. “No, it isn’t.” She’d steeled herself for months to be brave and stand up for what she wanted. “You know attending college has always been my dream.” Whereas modeling and Hollywood had always been her mother’s dream. Twenty years ago, Genevieve Britten had been the hottest thing on the catwalk...until she’d gotten pregnant with Serena. All her life, Serena had felt like she was making it up to her mother for being born. But she couldn’t do that forever. She just couldn’t.
“Are you crazy?” Her mother’s tone left no question that Serena had absolutely lost her mind. “Why would you even think of giving up your career, especially when you’re not only one of the top supermodels in the world, but you are also poised to become a serious actor?”
“Smith Sullivan’s movie has been shelved,” Serena reminded her, “so it’s not like I’m walking out on a commitment to him.”
Being in a movie would have been a new challenge, but it wasn’t one she’d chosen for herself and Serena was beyond glad that the film was no longer on the calendar. It was one thing to walk away from future modeling jobs, but if she’d actually been cast in a major motion picture, she could never have walked away from it in good conscience...and then she would have had to postpone her plans for college another year. Or longer, probably, if the movie did well.
“Smith’s film will happen, even if it takes a little longer than he originally planned,” her mother insisted, her voice rising in pitch with each word, as if she’d just begun to realize that Serena was actually serious this time. “Even without it, you have runway commitments, print bookings.”