The Hottest Deal

by Paige, Violet

  When I first took the part, I couldn’t think of what Jared and I had in common on the surface. But the farther I dug into the role, I started to understand the man.

  I walked toward the snack table and grabbed a banana. “Good morning, y’all.” I smiled at the crew.

  Their eyes hit the floor and they mumbled, “Good morning,” before dispersing. I watched them scurry like ants, and then pivoted toward the set where Emmy was sitting by the window, script in hand.

  “Mr. Sullivan, you’re going to need this for your scene today.” Gerald, the head of props, handed me something in a jewelry box. “Please take care of it. It’s on loan from Neil Lane through the end of the shoot. Five carats and platinum.” He looked serious.

  “Thanks, man.” I eyed it in my palm. Before I could ask Gerald any questions about the piece, he was gone. Everyone sure was in a big hurry this morning. I shoved it in my front pocket.

  I sauntered over to my co-star. “Hey, Em. Ready for today?” I grinned. It was even sunny outside in the fake city. The penthouse windows streamed with rays of light.

  “Don’t you look surprisingly happy?” She tilted her chin toward me. “I would have thought you’d be in a bad mood this morning. Considering everything.”

  “Me? Bad mood? Never.” I sat on the leather couch. “I’m ready to kill this scene. Check this out.” I pulled the box that the prop manager had given me from my pocket. “Want to see what it looks like?”

  Emmy immediately leaned forward, her eyes widening when I cracked the lid on the box.

  “Oh, wow.” She reached for the ring. “This is gorgeous.” She tried it on her left hand and held it up to the fake sunshine, smiling at the rainbows bouncing around the room.

  “I guess it will work.” I laughed.

  “Do you think they’ll let me keep it as a movie souvenir?”

  “Doubtful. Hand it over.” I held the box in front of her. “It’s five carats. I’m not letting you walk out of here with that.”

  She pouted and wiggled the platinum band off her finger. “At least they got my ring size right.”

  I made sure the ring was secure on its velvet cushion and returned it to my pocket. It wouldn’t be long before I’d be presenting it to her in front of everyone. If she could pull off the same kind of reaction, the scene would be flawless—just like that diamond.

  “I’m going to check in with wardrobe. I think I’m supposed to be in a gray suit for this scene.”

  Emmy’s forehead furrowed. “Since when do you care about the wardrobe?”

  “Since I know how important it is to get this stuff right.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t suggest Jared propose in a flannel shirt and boots,” she teased.

  “Em, I have more class than that. I’ll be right back.”

  She giggled. “I’ll be here, babe.” She waved.

  I noticed she pulled out her phone and began typing furiously. No telling what had her distracted.

  The wardrobe department had its own section inside the studio. On one side were racks of men’s suits, and on the other were dresses and rows of high heel shoes. Janet, the lead costume designer, was flipping through hangers on Emmy’s side of the room.

  “Hey, Janet.” I strolled up next to her.

  “What’s up?” She pulled out a black dress and matched it with a set of earrings she was holding.

  “We’re getting ready to shoot the proposal, and I don’t think I’m supposed to be in a sport coat.” I pulled on the sleeves of my jacket. “I thought I read that I needed a charcoal suit.”

  She shoved her glasses on her head and turned to face me. “Shit, yeah. That looks terrible.”

  “Well, I don’t know if I’d say terrible.” I smiled.

  Janet crammed Emmy’s dress on the rack and moved to the other side of the room. She pulled a clipboard off the front rack and folded over the first few pages.

  “Right, it’s right here. Plain as day. Who in the hell laid that jacket out for you?” She walked along the rack until she matched up the suit number with what was on her clipboard.

  “I’m not worried about that. They probably just confused the numbers or something. I only want to make sure I’m wearing the right thing.”

  I didn’t know why, but I thought Jared was the kind of man who would make sure his proposal was completely polished all the way to the duds he was wearing. The man was nothing if not meticulous. He had certain tastes that set him apart from other roles I had played.

  “It’s a problem if someone on my team is giving you the wrong wardrobe. Proposal in a sport coat? What were they thinking?” She handed me the suit. “Here you go. Let me know if you need any other alterations. I don’t think we did a second fitting on this one. It seemed like you might have been too busy or something.” She returned her glasses to the bridge of her nose.

  I accepted the garment. All the suits were tailored to fit me perfectly. I had spent hours at the beginning of the shoot being measured. There was a chance they even had the length of my big toe, but it was finally coming together.

  “You know how it gets. I was slammed at the beginning and I let things get away from me.” I wasn’t about to tell her I had no interest in wardrobe, and that it didn’t make one bit of difference to me. This woman lived and breathed fabrics and accessories. I couldn’t insult her like that.

  “I understand. But if it doesn’t fit right, tell me right away.”

  “Thanks, Janet. I’ll let you know.”

  “And be careful with that suit. We don’t have a replacement for it on set.” She brushed past me and started flipping through Emmy’s options again.

  “Yes, ma’am. Got it. I’ll return it in perfect condition.”

  I jogged out of the wardrobe room and past Emmy holding up the suit. “Give me five and I’ll be back.”

  “All right. Don’t forget my ring!”

  I tapped my front pants’ pocket. It was still there. “Don’t worry, darlin’.”

  My trailer was humming from the air conditioner. I turned on the overhead lights and started shedding the current wardrobe to change into the charcoal suit. I had to give it to Jared. The man had taste.

  I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I looked different. The suit coated me in an aura of sophistication. I tugged on the starched white shirt and adjusted the cufflinks monogrammed with JL for Jared Love.

  “Not bad.” I chuckled to myself. I tucked the ring into the front pocket. My hand was on the door handle when my phone vibrated on the counter. I saw Ryan’s name pop up on the screen.

  “Hey, man, what’s up? I’ve got about ten seconds.” I took another glance at my reflection in the mirror.

  “Ok. I know it looks bad, and I know you’re probably thinking of a hundred ways to pummel the guy, but I’ll figure something out.” Ryan sounded out of breath. “We can’t exactly go on the offensive with someone that likable.”

  “Slow down, Ryan. What are you talking about?”

  “Wait, you don’t know?”

  “Know what?” I was starting to regret picking up my phone. I didn’t want to lose my Jared Love momentum.

  “I guess you haven’t talked to Avery today?”

  “Avery? Ryan, you better tell me what’s going on. I talked to her last night and she was fine. Is something wrong?” I felt a tightening in my chest.

  “She’s fine. Don’t worry about that. But—”

  “Spit it out. What is it?”

  “She was caught with Michael Adams having coffee. At least, I think it was coffee. I couldn’t tell exactly. The pictures are bad. The headlines are worse.”

  “The singer Michael Adams?”

  “Yeah, that one.”

  I rushed to the back of the trailer to my laptop on a makeshift desk, and sat behind the chair. I only heard half of what Ryan was saying. There she was on Celeb Watch’s front page.

  Brokenhearted again?

  Sullivan left for new heartthrob singer

  Love & Bondage
unchained

  I felt the shards of glass slice through my lungs as I forced them to work. Michael’s hand covered hers. She was running her fingers over his lips and laughing. What was this? I slammed the screen down.

  “I don’t believe it.” I felt the vein in my neck throbbing. It was Emmy and Hawaii all over again.

  “Listen, listen. I’m headed to Dallas this morning. I’ll make a detour to Austin and check in with her. I’ll get back to you tonight.” Ryan sighed. “I’m sorry, man, but I’ll handle it. In the meantime, I think you should just lie low today until we figure out how to tackle it.”

  “You’re going to go see her today?” All I could think about was hopping on the jet and heading toward Texas. I would trade places with Ryan in an instant.

  “Yes, I will get some answers today, but tell Emmy not to make any statements. I know how she likes to throw her two cents in every chance she gets. This is one time we don’t need her help. We’ve got to squash the idea that you’ve been cheated on. It doesn’t bode well for trying to make you the catch of the century.”

  “I don’t care about that crap.”

  “Right, but it’s my job to care. Turns out our strategy to lead the hounds in the opposite direction didn’t pan out like we thought. Avery has never really left their radar. I thought they had forgotten all about her. I’ll check in with you later.”

  “I did too.” I thought the last round of pictures with Emmy had squelched the interest in Avery. Ryan and I had both been wrong.

  I threw the phone on the couch. What in the hell was going on?

  A loud fist banged on the door. “Mr. Sullivan! Mr. Sullivan, they’re waiting for you on set.”

  Damn it. I glared at the door. “On my way.”

  I stormed out of the trailer and toward the set.

  “Hey, there.” Emmy smiled.

  “Let’s just get this over with.” I groaned.

  “What happened? You were just in the best mood, ready to propose, dancing on rainbows or something.” She studied my face. “Oh, you just saw the headlines, didn’t you?”

  I glared at her. “You knew?”

  “Everyone knows. It was all over the news this morning. How did you not know?”

  “I was reading my lines. I don’t follow that trash.” I didn’t know right now if that was to my advantage or not.

  “I’m sure they’re Photoshop-ed or taken out of context. Take it from someone who’s been a victim of the press.”

  “But you did cheat on me, Emmy.”

  “Well, that part is true, but it wasn’t as bad as it looked in public. That should mean something.”

  I shook my head. “It really doesn’t.”

  She brushed the tops of my shoulders, pretending there was something there that needed her attention. “This suit does look amazing on you.” She batted her eyelashes at me lightly. “Are you going to be able to handle this today?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.” I flattened the lapels while Emmy straightened the knot on my tie.

  “I’m here if you need someone to talk to. I mean it, babe. Anything you need, I’m here.”

  “Thanks, I can handle it. I know it’s just a big misunderstanding.”

  There was no part of me that didn’t believe there was something to the pictures I had scrolled through. They were taken through a window, but they were crisp and clear. I knew that look on Avery’s face. I knew her smile. Those pictures weren’t fakes.

  “Today, let’s forget all that stuff.” She tilted toward me. “Let’s just be Evangeline and Jared and enjoy our moment, ok? This is supposed to be our day. I’ve been waiting to shoot this scene with you from the beginning.”

  I nodded. If I ever needed an escape, this was it. I leaned toward her and brushed my mouth against her full pouty lips. I was going completely off-script.

  “What was that for?” Emmy looked dazed, her chin still tilted upward.

  “I just needed a reminder.” I turned from her and looked out of the sun-drenched windows.

  Emmy pressed her fingertips to her lips. “And what did it remind you of?”

  “That there’s only one woman I’m supposed to be kissing.” I didn’t turn to see the look on Emmy’s face, but I regretted the words as soon as I spoke them. Jealousy had twisted a knife through my chest, and made me act like an impulsive asshole.

  “Em, I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair.” When I turned, she was gone.

  I hung my head and shoved my hands in Jared’s designer pockets, my fingers brushing the ring box. I had botched all the energy running between us for the proposal scene. But how could I propose when I was haunted by pictures of my past that looked identical to my present?

  Twenty-Two

  Avery

  The headlines were worse than I thought. I stared at the people walking on the sidewalk below me. Their lives were uncomplicated and simple. I bet none of them were plastered on websites, bare and exposed where other people could judge. Where they could leave hateful comments and taunt. Yeah, those people on the sidewalk were living normal lives.

  Reagan whistled as she walked through the door. “So, you sure know how to make an entrance in the music biz. Michael Adams?”

  “Not funny. It was just coffee.”

  “Coffee shmoffee. Looks like you were totally smitten with him.” She laughed and plopped down on the writing couch.

  “Oh, God, it’s terrible, isn’t it?” I buried my face in my hands. “But I’m not smitten. Maybe a little bit of a crush, but only because I love his music and…I shouldn’t be saying any of this. I completely screwed up.”

  “What did Scott say? I’m sure he was fine after you talked. He knows the deal with the press.”

  The panic flooded my face. “I didn’t tell him about last night when we talked. Michael told me it would just blow things out of proportion, so I didn’t mention it. He said it was better that way.”

  Reagan stared at me. “Michael told you to say that?”

  I nodded.

  “Girl, I think he totally played you.”

  “What do you mean? He was trying to help.” I worried I might get sick right there. My stomach was churning.

  “Ok, so clearly your experience with guys is limited.” She pulled her guitar from its case. “Coffee? Come on. He’s into you.”

  Her words were true, but that’s not why I went with him. But it didn’t make any sense why I accepted his offer. Nothing good could come of hanging out with another mega celebrity. And not one who looked like Michael did.

  “I told him in the lobby I had a boyfriend. I was honest.” I twisted my bottom lip under my teeth. “I never led him on. Never.”

  Reagan strummed a chord. “You are so naïve. If there isn’t a ring on your finger, then you are fair game.”

  “I’m not a prize or an animal.”

  “You know what I mean. Without a ring, you’re available.”

  “That’s stupid. I’m with-with Scott. I’m staying at the ranch. We couldn’t be more together.”

  “I’m just telling you what I know guys think.”

  “Thanks, but I’d rather not think they all just want to get in my pants.” I huffed.

  Reagan laughed. “Well, they do.”

  “Awesome.”

  “Sometimes it is.” She laughed. “You up for finishing this song?”

  “I need to talk to Scott, but yeah, let’s finish it. I’ll call him after our break. He texted this morning and said he had an intense scene and wouldn’t be able to talk until later today. This sucks.”

  “I think I feel a song coming on.” She smiled.

  “It’s something.” I picked up my journal and turned to a blank page. The only thing that might be able to take my mind off the biggest mistake of my life was music. I scribbled out the notes and played with the words.

  It took all morning, but we finally finished the last bars of the song.

  I looked up at the clock. “Wow, we wrote through lunch.”

  “I knew I heard my
stomach growling. Want to grab some lunch?”

  “Sure. I could eat.”

  Reagan packed up her guitar, and we walked down the long corridor toward the elevators.

  Some of the dread I had been feeling earlier had subsided. It was a relief that food actually sounded appealing.

  Reagan tapped the elevator button and was almost plowed over by a man rushing through the doors.

  “Hey, excuse me?” Reagan looked like she was ready to storm him.

  “Oh, sorry, hey. You’re Reagan James.”

  “Yes, and you are?” She waited with her hands on her hips.

  “Looking for Avery.”

  “I’m Avery.” I hesitated.

  “I’m Ryan, Scott’s agent. Can we talk for a minute?”

  I looked at Reagan, who shrugged. “I’ll make a few calls and wait for you out here.” She pointed to the reception area.

  “Umm, ok.” I felt all the nervousness and nausea from earlier return with sudden force. “We can talk back here.” I led Ryan to the writing studio where we worked.

  He closed the door behind us.

  “Ok, you need to tell me the whole story.”

  “Excuse me?” I was expecting pleasantries or a get-to-know you segment of the conversation.

  “I told Scott I would talk to you, and then we’ll come up with a game plan, but in order to do that, you need to tell me the truth.”

  “The truth? What is it exactly that we’re talking about?” I might be inexperienced and naïve, as Reagan liked to remind me, but I didn’t have to tolerate rudeness.

  “You and Michael Adams. Come on, I’m here to help.”

  “Help, hmm.” I studied his face. Scott spoke highly of Ryan. He liked him and trusted him since they knew some of the same people in East Texas. That seemed to mean a lot to him.

  “Yes, help. But I can’t get a full handle on this for our publicist if I don’t know the whole story. You have to understand my point of view here. Are there more pictures? Did anyone see you leave his place?”

  “Leave his place? What are you talking about?”