“Agreed,” he said. “And Julia?”
“What’s that?”
“I know you’re stressed out, and I’m sorry for all of it.”
“Hunter, there’s no reason for you to be sorry,” I said, meaning it. “The show is called The Terrible Teens for a reason. It’s built upon a foundation of unpredictable situations swirling around some pretty hard-core personalities. Your job is to deliver a great show to your viewers. What you captured on film today is the kind of fire that will turn your show into a lucrative third season. It also will justify Pepper’s salary. Am I happy that Lexi outed her mother? Hell, no—I hate what she did. But Pepper and her mother went into this knowing the risks—they knew that at some point, things would get personal and ugly between Pepper and the other girls. Did anyone think it would go this far? Probably not, but the potential for things to become explosive was always there, and they knew that going in. Now it’s time for me to clean up as much of this as I can. In the meantime—you and I will do our jobs in ways that won’t affect our relationship.”
“I’m glad you said that,” he said. “Because I don’t want any of this to get between us.”
“It won’t,” I said.
“Are you sure about that?” he asked. “Because that’s a tall order when it comes to business between friends—or whatever you and I are at this point. Julia, when it comes to Pepper and Lexi, things are going to continue to go off the rails. What does that mean when it comes to you and me?”
“We’ll need to ride it out together,” I said.
“I know you feel protective of Pepper, but I hope you understand that I can’t soften any of this. What they’ve done and are doing to each other is a major part of this season. I have to run with all of it.”
“I understand that.”
“What concerns me is how that might affect us. Are you going to be angry with me for seizing this moment? Are you going to resent me for it? Are you going to feel that I’m a bad person for going there? I need to know.”
“Hunter, you need to do your job. Period. You have to tell the story those girls have already mapped out for themselves, because that’s the essence of your show. These girls do stupid shit all the time. What happened today is an example of that. But all of them knew that when they signed up to be on the show, their parents knew the ramifications of what could come, so it is what it is, isn’t it? Yes, I’m upset by what happened today, but I don’t hold you accountable for it. Actually, I hold Lexi accountable for it. None of this should affect us.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“I am,” I said. “But I need you to listen to me now. I don’t know how or when Pepper will get her revenge on Lexi, but I have a feeling that it will be sooner rather than later, and that when she goes there, whatever the hell she does to Lexi might be so epic, it could shut down the news cycle when it comes to her mother. Because Pepper is capable of creating that kind of drama. But in the meantime? Since none of us knows how she’ll retaliate? I guess we’ll have to sit back and see.”
For a long moment, he just looked at me, before he took my face in his hands and kissed me in ways that he hadn’t in the Park—this kiss was more passionate and sensual than any other kiss he’d laid on me. It was a kiss designed to sink into my soul and arouse every part of my body as well as my heart and mind. And if I was being honest with myself, this was exactly the kind of kiss I’d wanted from him all day, which said everything about how I was starting to feel about him . . . but in ways I didn’t have the guts to admit to . . .
When we parted from each other, even I could feel my eyes starting to cross.
“Your eyes are crossing again, Julia,” he said with a smile.
This time, I decided to tell him the truth, which I knew he already knew anyway.
“This weird eye-crossing thing comes down to you, Hunter. Not because of allergies—but because of the effect you have on me.”
“And what effect is that?” he asked.
“You already know,” I said as I flushed. “But I’ve said enough for today.”
I gave him a quick kiss on the lips before I started down the stairs, even though I wanted to remain in his arms. But restraint was in order, so down the steps I went. “Throughout the day, I’ll try to get in touch with Pepper,” I said over my shoulder. “As for now, I’ll go and see Harper. She’ll know how to handle the press when it comes to Lexi outing Pepper’s mother. When I know something, I’ll give you a call, OK?”
“I’ll do the same if anything happens on this end,” he said.
When I reached the landing, I turned to look up at him. “You know, maybe Pepper and Lexi shouldn’t share a bedroom tonight. Maybe it’s best to separate them so they can cool off.”
“There are cameras all over that bedroom, Julia. And as we’ve both agreed, I’ve got a show to run. At the very least, words will be exchanged between them when they go to bed tonight. To continue to tell their story, I have to capture whatever’s said between them. I hope you know that. What happened today is clearly is going to be a central part of this season.”
“I get it,” I said. “Just be ready for anything.”
“You too,” he said. “Can I call you later?”
“Hunter, you can call me any time.”
I caught a fleeting smile on his face. I stepped out into the searing heat, it took me a good five minutes before I successfully hailed a cab, then I was on my way to CAA to see Harper. There, we’d discuss what had been one hell of a day—and Harper would give me the advice I needed to see it through to its end.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Later that evening, after I’d met with Harper—who’d given me a whirlwind of advice when it came to dealing with the press in these sorts of situations—I’d taken everything she’d said to heart, and I’d implemented her directives when various media outlets reached out to me for comment on Savannah’s well-being.
Thanks to my talk with Harper, whenever I was asked about Savannah I just returned a big “no comment,” since I didn’t represent her. When the conversation turned to Pepper, I told whoever was calling that she was a minor, so there also would be no comment regarding any “rumors or accusations coming from a third party.” And then, after one of the longest of days of my life, my cell finally stopped ringing at eight o’clock that evening.
In the silence that followed, I nuked myself a Lean Cuisine (lasagna, yay!), ate it in what probably was less than five minutes since I was beyond famished, and then I thought about all the times I’d tried to reach out to Pepper throughout the day.
Frankly, I was disappointed that she hadn’t responded to any of my calls. I was genuinely worried about her, which I’d told her time and again in the countless voice mails I’d left her. Couldn’t she have at least called me to let me know that she was OK and safe? I was trying my best to be her friend, and even though there had been times when she’d dropped the veil and let me in, for the most part, she continued to shut me out.
But throughout the day, whenever I felt that sting, I checked myself.
She’s a fourteen-year-old girl dealing with a ton of shit right now, so stop taking her behavior personally.
Sometimes, I wished that instead of me, it was my conscience that led my life, because whenever I listened to it, it clearly knew a hell of a lot more about how I should live my life than I did . . .
With conditions . . .
What eventually calmed me down is that Hunter called at seven to tell me that Pepper had returned to the set. That had been an enormous relief, and I was grateful that Hunter had called me as soon as he could because he knew I was worried sick about Pepper. I’d thanked him when he called, he’d said that he wished he could come over to see me tonight, but since Pepper and the girls were at each other’s throats, he knew that he should probably sleep on one of the sofas in the living area in case all hell broke loose during the evening.
“You’ve had a terrible day,” I’d said to him. “I’m sorry.”
“I am, too, but mostly because I can’t see you tonight,” he’d said. “These girls have so many hormones charging through them, I think I need to stay here because after Lexi’s stunt this morning? I’m no fool. Something volatile could happen tonight. Or maybe not. I just don’t know when it comes to these girls—but I do know that after what went down today, I need to be prepared for anything.”
“You do,” I’d said. “But with the exception of a few bitchy remarks, which each of us knows is going to happen, hopefully nothing significant will happen between them.”
“It already has,” he’d said. “The moment Pepper returned, she and Lexi got into it, with the others chiming in with their support for Lexi. I let the cameras roll for a bit, because, as I mentioned to you earlier, my job is to tell a story when it comes to this show. But when I decided that enough was enough, I shut them down.”
“Smart move,” I’d said. “Because those girls? They can be exhausting. I don’t know how you do it.”
He’d gone silent when I’d said that, and when he spoke again, I could hear something like trepidation in his voice.
“Actually, Julia, there’s a chance that I might not be doing this show much longer.”
Wait a minute—what!?
“I’m sorry . . . ?” I’d said.
“After you left today, my agent called. Apparently, Fox wants me to direct a movie for them. They’re sending me the script tomorrow, and after I read it, I have one week to decide whether I want to do it or not.”
“But you’ll be staying here, right?” I’d asked. “I mean, in the city?”
“No,” he’d said quietly. “If I do this, I’ll likely have to relocate to LA—at least until the shoot is finished.”
“But that could be months,” I’d said. “And if they like your work—and why wouldn’t they, Hunter, because you’re brilliant—then you’ll just be offered more films to direct, which will change your life. And because of that, you’ll need to move to LA permanently.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he’d said. “I mean, the script might be shit, right? And I’m not about to attach myself to shit. Nothing’s happened yet.”
And nothing’s happened between us yet either, I’d thought with a weird sense of panic. At least not when it comes to us being truly intimate with one another. Am I about to lose you at the very moment when I’m ready to give myself to you?
I’d feared that I was . . .
Why is this happening? I’d thought. And how is this even happening? Hasn’t he signed on to do another year of the Teens? Or had that just been an assumption on my part?
I didn’t know, so I asked him.
“Actually, I haven’t signed on to do another season,” he’d said. “Going into the Teens, the network and I struck a two-year deal. After that, if the network was happy with how the second season turned out, my agent’s idea was to renegotiate the contract if the series continued to be a success. That’s been our intent all along. And now, out of the blue comes an opportunity to direct a feature film, which has been a dream of mine ever since I got into this business.”
Our careers are exploding at the same time, I’d thought. A month ago, I’d been promoted to assistant agent at CAA. And now because of his talent and the success of his show, Hunter had caught Hollywood’s eye. When it came to our careers, we were lucky as hell. But I had to wonder if when it came to us, were he and I doomed because of our success?
I didn’t know, and as much as it pained me to think that he and I would never be—because I had no interest in leaving the city or CAA so that someone else could chase their dreams while mine were left in the dust—I was proud of him. Hunter had worked hard to catch Fox’s eye, he’d seen a niche that could work on television, he’d followed it through with the Teens, and now Hollywood was calling for him to achieve even bigger things. Regardless of how sick I felt that I was about to lose him just when I was falling hard for him, I nevertheless followed my heart and did what was right.
I congratulated him.
“Hunter, I’m happy for you,” I’d said. “You’ve worked hard for this opportunity. Congratulations. You deserve this.”
“Julia, as I said, I haven’t seen the script, and I’ve signed nothing,” he’d said.
“But you might, and we both need to face that fact. And if you do sign on to direct that film, Hunter, you need to know that I’ll be rooting for you now and forever.”
I’d wanted to say to him that I’d miss the hell out of him if he went—that I’d be devastated if he went—but I refused to do so, because there was no way that I was going to sway him from realizing his dreams.
If he wanted to stay in the city because of me—let him stay. But if he wanted to direct feature films, Hunter needed to feel free to do that, too. Staying or leaving was a choice he needed to make on his own, because I refused to be the one who held him back. Because if I did—and if this opportunity never came his way again—it could lead to him resenting me, which I wouldn’t have.
“Julia, there’s a lot to be said for being the showrunner of a successful television show,” he’d said. “Because right now? Television is having a moment. With the success of streaming and now that cable is bigger than it’s ever been, television is pretty much where it’s at right now. Hell, in many ways, television has become bigger than film. I mean, look at what producing the Kardashians has done for Ryan Seacrest—he’s built an empire by producing that show, which has allowed him to do a shitload of other things. We’ve only been shooting this second season of the Teens for a month, but I already know that what I have in the can is the kind of shit that will change my life when the studio sees for themselves what we’ve created. I know how good this season is—and most of it comes down to Pepper and Lexi. I also know that because this season is better than the first season, I will make major bank should I choose to renegotiate my contract. So, please don’t make too much of Fox’s offer—or the possibility that I might leave the city because of it.”
“But I kind of have to, don’t I?” I’d asked him in a soft voice. “Hunter, you just told me that directing a feature film is one of your dreams. And if the film that Fox is offering you turns out to be good? And if you decide to direct it and it becomes a hit? You and I both know that you will be on an entirely different level than the one you’re on now, which you deserve, because I believe in you and your talent. But that next level will only come if you move to LA, because that’s where the industry exists, for God’s sake. With some exceptions, yes, it exists here in New York, but just so we’re clear, I’m telling you now that here is where I plan to stay. I have my own career and my own dreams to fight for. And because CAA wants me here for a full year before I can become an associate agent? You need to know that I’m staying here for that reason.”
“Why do I feel as if you’re pushing me away right now?”
Because I refuse to hold both of us back!
“I’m not pushing you away,” I’d said. “What I’m doing is looking at the big picture. Fox wants you. And if they want you, other studios are going to want you more than Fox does. And do you want to know why? It’s because Hollywood is a small, competitive town, and executives from competing studios always tend to have their fingers on things—like who’s fresh, who’s new, who’s hot. That’s what I think you’re missing here. If you make this film—which I think you should, but only if the script is good—you and I both know that you won’t be staying in New York.”
“And that’s a deal-breaker for you when it comes to us?”
“I’m sorry, but it is.”
“You’re building a wall between us now,” he’d said.
“I’m not Trump.”
“Hilarious,” he’d said.
“Hunter, listen, I’ve enjoyed spending time with you.”
“Spending time with me?” he’d said incredulously. “Is that all this has been between us—spending time together? Come on, Julia.”
“It’s been more tha
n that, and you know it has, but—”
“How do you feel when I take you into my arms?” he’d interrupted. “When I kiss you—and when you kiss me back? You know what? You don’t even need to answer those questions, because I already know how you feel. I can feel it in the heat of your kiss. I can see it in how your eyes sometimes cross when our lips part. And I know that what you’ve begun to feel for me is the same desire I’ve long felt for you. Because of the way I behaved in my past, yes, it took us time to get to a place of trust. But we’ve gotten past that hurdle, haven’t we? Do you trust me now?”
“I do,” I’d said. And I did. “But, Hunter, there’s no way I’m going to get between you and your career. I’m not going to be the one who stops you from achieving the greatness I know you’re capable of achieving. I refuse to be that person in your life who—years from now—you might someday point to as the person who held you back.”
“I haven’t seen the script, Julia,” he’d said in frustration. “It could suck.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
He didn’t answer.
“Your silence is telling,” I’d said. “What kind of film is it, Hunter?”
“A romantic comedy.”
“You see,” I’d said. “They are watching you, because the Teens is often seriously funny. You’re the man behind those laughs—and Fox knows it.”
“You’re shutting down on me,” he’d said.
“I’m not shutting down on you. What I’m trying to do is set you free.”
“From you?”
“In a way, but only so you can enjoy this next chapter of your life and your career.”
“I never said that I was going anywhere,” he’d said in a stern voice. “I only mentioned this to you because it’s been part of my day.”
“But what happened today is significant, and it can’t be ignored. I mean, if you take that job, it would affect us, right? I’m not trying to be unreasonable here, Hunter. If anything, I’m trying to be selfless.”
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