by Torsha Baker
“I’m heading to the hotel,” I say as a greeting.
“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
“They found Audrey,” I say. “I should get there on time to make the audition.”
“Of course, they did—see, they didn’t need you after all. Now you can get your head in the right mindset. Eye on the prize. Time to do what you must to get that role. All you need to do is sign the contract, which I’ve already reviewed, and then you’ll be a movie star, darling.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Kisses.” She hangs up, and I direct the car back into traffic. The problem is, I don’t think being a movie star is the prize I want anymore.
Chapter Twenty-Four
JAXON
I’m riding back to the house with Audrey sitting in front of me on Copper. Landon and Dillon have caught up to us on their horses.
“Audrey,” I say. “You know you can’t just leave like that. You had us all worried half to death. Me especially. It’s dangerous out here at night.”
“I was on a mission, Dad,” she says matter-of-factly, bobbing her head so that her pigtails swing.
I note that she’s talking to me again, but I don’t comment in case she realizes it and stops again. “A mission, huh?”
“Yeah, it was up to me to get Malia to come back, since you’re not doing anything.” Then her voice lowers. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”
My heart clenches at the sadness in her voice. I’m a fool. All this time I’ve been trying to protect Audrey, but then I never really took her feelings into consideration. “So, you made a wish on the wishing tree, did ya?”
She smiles, her mood lightening. “Yup.”
“You almost got your wish. Malia was rushing back when she found out you were missing. She sure loves you, you know.”
“So,” Landon says. “She was going to ditch that audition?” He gives me a thoughtful, knowing look. “Interesting, that is. Weren’t you just saying that you wanted someone who will put Audrey first?”
It is interesting. Malia was willing to give up her chance at being in that film so she could come and help us look for Audrey. I was so worried about her putting her career ahead of us that I made the decision for her. And even after I ended things, she chose us over the audition. She didn’t even hesitate. Her first instinct was family . . . Audrey.
My hands tighten on the reins. “I’ve made a mistake.”
Dillon nods in agreement. “That you have.”
Audrey smiles triumphantly.
Landon looks a bit too smug on his horse when he says, “So what are you going to do about it?”
I have to mend things with Malia before it’s too late. I look to Landon, and then to Dillon, who seem to be waiting.
“I’m going to need your help,” I say. “I have to get my girl back.”
“You think she’ll take you back?” Dillon asks.
I tilt my head and give a winning Jaxon smile. “You forget who you’re talking to.”
“I knew the wishing tree wouldn’t let me down!” Audrey whoops, and my brothers laugh.
I hope my confident words aren’t just foolish bravado. Just because Malia helped me find Audrey doesn’t mean she’ll come back to us.
“I’ll get the plane ready,” Dillon says.
My stomach drops. “Our plane?” I get severe motion sickness from flying in our small crop duster.
He smiles at me. “It’s the fastest way to get there.”
“What if I puke?”
Landon laughs. “Bring a change of clothes and a toothbrush.”
The things I do for love.
Chapter Twenty-Five
MALIA
I sashay into the Sunset Tower Hotel and approach the polished concierge desk. A woman in her twenties with blonde hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail smiles at me with red lipstick. “Welcome to the Tower. How may I help you?”
My nerves are on fire. It turns out I couldn’t get here on time. I’m fifteen minutes late, and I don’t know if Mr. Wilson has left already. If he’s still here, I’ll have to be extra charming to make up for poor punctuality. It’s a horrible first impression to be late for an audition. No one wants to hire an actress that could be behind schedule on set, so many people would have to wait for the production to start and it would waste a ton of money and people’s time. “I’m here to meet Harry Wilson. Could you let me know what conference room he’s in?”
She flips through some papers in her notebook. “Ah, yes. Mr. Wilson is waiting for you at the Tower Bar. It’s down this hall,” she points to her left. “You can’t miss it.”
“Thank you.” I rush down the hall, my heels clicking on the hard surface. I wonder why Mr. Wilson is in the bar. I thought this was going to be an audition. I can’t exactly audition in front of a bar full of people. He’s probably waiting there because he got sick of waiting in a conference room for me.
When I enter the bar and restaurant, I scan the place for Harry Wilson. The entire room is rust, cream, and taupe colored with rich wood throughout. It reminds me of a man’s office except that the lighting is dimmed for an intimate setting. The smell of garlic, herbs, and meat cooking knots my stomach. I can never eat much when I have an audition. I’m too anxious.
I spot Harry on a tall bar stool, talking to a woman to his left. It’s apparent by his body language and where his eyes are focused that he’s more interested in her cleavage than what she’s actually saying. Perhaps they’re dating? I glance down at my own dress, grateful for its high neckline.
I take a deep breath, readying myself. My heart might still be broken, but right now I have to be what Harry wants to see—the perfect actress for his new movie. I approach him. “Mr. Wilson?” I ask.
He turns to me, and a smile spreads across his round face. He’s five-foot-nine and wears a blazer I’d guess is Versace with a pair of dark jeans. His white button-up dress shirt is unbuttoned low enough to send a message I don’t want to hear. The wrinkles that Botox couldn’t touch says he’s in his fifties. His fake-tanned face is ruddy from too many years of over drinking. Seeing as his glass of scotch is almost gone, and an empty one sits in front of him, he’s probably already buzzed. Highly unprofessional, but then I was late. He’s had more time to get buzzed.
An uneasy feeling takes root in the pit of my stomach. I contemplate turning around right there, but I can practically hear JulieAnn telling me that would be career suicide. Besides, it’s probably just nerves.
“Malia, sweetheart,” he says drawing out the word. He comes in for a hug and kiss on the cheek. Since I’m Hawaiian, I’m familiar with this type of greeting, but Harry lingers far longer and embraces far closer than is typical for my culture. He makes the greeting feel downright vulgar. The smell of liquor on him is as strong as if I were sniffing straight from the bottle. I pull back as quickly as I can and give him a tight smile. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Wilson.”
“Please, call me Harry. The only people who call me Mr. Wilson are my lawyer and my doctor, and you’re much prettier than either of them.” He drops his voice. “But I wouldn’t mind playing doctor with you.”
I’m stunned to silence, and he must notice how uncomfortable I am because he laughs, a hearty, reverberating sound. “I’m kidding, dear, kidding. Come, let’s get a table.”
I suddenly envision myself avoiding him every time he comes to a shoot—for his protection, not mine. I give him a winning smile so that he has no clue I’m not comfortable. “Oh, I thought we’d head to a conference room for my audition.”
“No, no. I can’t make any decisions on an empty stomach.” He pats his belly for emphasis. “Besides, people spend too much time these days on phones and not enough time talking. I need to get to know you better to decide if I want to work with you or not. I like to get up close and personal with those I work with. Come, come.” His eyes wander over me again, and I resist the urge to cross my arms over my chest.
The next two hours
I have to watch Harry Wilson eat like a pig, be rude to our waitress, suggesting that she’s too uptight because she’s probably not getting laid enough, and then go on and on about how brilliant and successful he is. I’ve concluded that he’s a total douche. I’ve worked with douches in the past but none as bad as this.
I’ve texted JulieAnn under the table a few times that I don’t know if I can follow through with this. She keeps insisting that he’s just eccentric, that he’s hardly ever on the set of his movies, and that I need to think of the long-term goal.
I’ve spent the last few weeks with some of the most gentlemanly men on the planet—men who know how to speak to a woman. The role that I keep thinking about is the one where I’m back in Bisbee with Jax and Audrey. And I may have messed that up for good. Jax made it clear that he doesn’t want to be with me when I’m bending my integrity to fit my career choices.
Finally, Harry pushes his plate away and takes a last slug of his scotch. “Okay, let’s go up to my suite and go over that contract.”
“The contract? But what about my audition? Don’t you want me to read for the role?”
“I’ve seen your show. I know you can act. I’ll have the wait staff bring some dessert to my suite while we go over the details.” Before I can respond, he stands and closes the distance to our waitress to talk to her about it.
I use the opportunity to pull out my phone and text JulieAnn.
Me: He wants me to go to his suite. Said he left the contract up there, but this whole audition has been unusual. He’s not even having me read.
She responds immediately.
JulieAnn: Totally normal for his type. He likes to keep things casual, friendly. Just go with it, make sure you’re being friendly back. Get the contract signed. I’ll be outside with paparazzi. Once it’s done, we can make a statement about you landing the role. You’ve got this. Kisses.
Harry comes back and motions for me to follow him. “JulieAnn tells me you’ve worked really hard to prepare for the part.”
I slide my phone into my purse, stand up, and follow him into the hotel hallway. “Yes, I’ve learned to rock climb, rope a cow while riding bareback, shoot a gun, and fight.”
“Yes, yes, all good. And let’s not forget your Trey Wentworth situation.” He laughs and I follow him into the elevator. “The relationship, the breakup, the rehab, and the reconciliation. That’s publicity gold right there.”
I think about how much I’ve hated all of that. And here Harry is celebrating it. “Um yeah, about that. Maybe Trey and I don’t need to carry on with our fake relationship. Maybe we could just keep it at the breakup stage? I think we’ve created enough buzz recently that it will bring plenty of publicity to the movie without us trying to make a reconciliation work.”
“Nonsense. We still need to ride the Trey-lia train.”
“Trey-lia?”
“That’s what the press is calling you guys. Trey, Malia, Trey-lia. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?”
No, it doesn’t. The only ring I’m hearing are those of warning. Do I really want to work day in and day out with people who praise dishonesty?
We stop in front of his room, and he pulls out a key card. He holds it up to the door, and the light turns green with a click. Harry pushes the door open and then turns to me. “You’re obviously the kind of actress who’s willing to go the extra mile to land the role of a lifetime in my movie. I appreciate that kind of dedication. And I’ll reward it. I'm going to make you the biggest movie star in Hollywood.”
I give him a smile, but for some reason, his words don’t bring me any joy. I should be thrilled right now. I’m going to get everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve. All I have to do is sign the contract and I’m in a Harry Wilson film, a guaranteed box-office hit. But all I feel is regret and sadness, mixed with abhorrence toward this man.
Harry pushes the door wider and gestures me in.
This is all wrong. “I need to make a quick phone call,” I say in a rush.
He frowns. “Right now?”
“Yeah, I um. I forgot that I left the oven on, and I need to let my roommate know.”
His brows crease, but he doesn’t question my story. “Okay, just knock when you’re done.” He winks at me. “Don’t take too long. The beginning of the rest of your life awaits.”
It takes great effort not to roll my eyes at him. Once the door shuts, I retrieve my phone and call Ala.
She picks up on the second ring. “Hey, how’d the audition go?”
I start to pace the carpeted hallway. “Weird.”
“What do you mean?”
I tell her everything that has happened to this point.
“Okay,” she says. “So you just need to sign the contract and then you have what you want, right?” I don’t answer. “This is what you want isn't it?”
I bite my bottom lip. “No,” I blurt out. “Ugh, I don’t know. I don’t want to live a lie anymore, and I don’t want to work with Harry Wilson.”
“Then why are you still there?”
“Because JulieAnn said this is the only way to get the roles I want, the ones that make a difference. I have to go into the movie scene with a splash.” I use my hands to mimic a splash even though she can’t see me.
“Why in the world do you need to audition for something you don’t want? Can’t you just audition for the roles you want? Who cares about the splash?” Her voice is firm. “JulieAnn is looking out for herself, at what’s in the best interest for your career, what will bring in the most money, because that’s how she gets paid. It’s up to you to decide what’s best for you. The best way to do that is to think about times when you are truly happy.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. Jax, Audrey, and my family comes to focus in my mind. “I was happiest when I was in Arizona with Jax and Audrey . . . working with horses and children with disabilities . . . seeing my family all the time.
“Sis, you don’t have to stay on a course you don’t want just because you’ve put work into getting there. Cut your losses. It’s okay to decide that it’s not right for you anymore.”
I lean back against the hallway wall. She’s right. I’ve held onto this audition so tightly because I’ve spent so much time and effort getting it. But it’s not what I want anymore. The heavy feeling in my chest finally begins to lighten. I push off the wall. “I know what I need to do.” A smile stretches across my face. “Thanks, sis.”
I hang up and slide my phone in my purse. It’s time to tell Harry Wilson I’m not right for the part after all. I knock on the door. A minute later, Harry opens it wearing nothing but a loosely tied robe. “You ready to seal the deal with this contract?” He gives me a horrible come-hither stare that suggests I’m blessed that he would look at me at all. He holds the door open wider. Inside, candles are lit, and Marvin Gaye music is playing in the background.
Oh, no. No, no, no, no. Part of me wants to laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of it. The other part of me is horrified and offended that he would suggest what he’s so obviously suggesting.
“Nothing about this,” I signal to him and the room beyond, “is okay. I won’t be in your movie after all, Mr. Wilson. I just wanted to let you know that before I leave.”
“Wait. You don’t want to do that, my dear,” His voice has an edge to it, a warning. “That would be career suicide.” He shakes his head. “Don’t be a prude. You knew perfectly well that I was inviting up to my room so we can really get to know one another. Now come in here so we can finish what we started.” He grabs my wrist and pulls me toward him.
My insides burn with fury. Through the buzzing of anger in my head, I vaguely hear my name being called down the hallway. Before I can wonder which unfortunate hotel employee is witnessing this, my training kicks in. I twist my arm free the way Jaxon taught me to and throw a perfect punch straight into Harry Wilson’s stupid, ruddy face. His head snaps back, and his eyes roll before he falls onto the ground, knocked out completely.
“Malia!” This tim
e I recognize Jax’s voice and turn to see him running down the hall to me.
My hand throbs in pain, and I stare at Jaxon, trying to figure out how he can be here.
He rushes to me and takes hold of my shoulder like I might be on the verge of collapse. “Are you okay?” His gaze roams over my body, checking for injuries. I manage to nod, still confused. Jax turns his attention to the unconscious Harry Wilson on the ground. His hairy legs are propping the door open, and his robe has come loose to reveal a pale bulging stomach. Not a pretty sight.
“Whoa.” Jax looks at me appraisingly. “Nice right hook. Perfectly executed and clean follow through. It’s good for him that you knocked him out, because I was about to beat him up.”
“You heard him?”
“I stepped out of the elevator when he was opening his door. As soon as he laid his hands on you, I came running. But you handled it well.”
Maybe a little too well. I gesture to Harry’s prone figure. “What do we do about him?”
Jax shoves Harry’s legs into the room and the door shuts. “He’ll survive, even if he doesn’t deserve to.”
He puts a hand at the small of my back, and we begin to stroll back toward the elevator. “Jax, I still don’t understand. What . . . what are you doing here?”
“Apparently, helping you cover up your assault,” he says with a grin.
“In Hollywood?”
He looks at me, all the joking gone from his expression. “I needed to talk to you.”
I stop and stare at him. “You flew here because you wanted to talk to me?”
He takes my hand and a sharp pain makes me flinch. He examines my knuckles. “We better get some ice for that hand.”
