Typecast

by Kim Carmichael

  “Didn’t happen. It will go down as one of life’s major mysteries, but many people have addressed this dilemma on fan fiction, some very wonderfully written.” She tilted her head. “Sometimes its better to not know the ending.”

  Fan fiction? He had heard of the stories but had never read any.

  The woman glanced at him again. “He’s going to hurt you just like he hurt Roxanne.”

  “I thank you for the warning, and I would discuss the matter with Steven if he existed.” She took a step back.

  With the admission that she recognized he was not Steven, he exhaled. While he wanted to wrap his arms around her, he chose to take her shoulders and inched closer, looking down at the top of her head.

  “Who are you?” The woman wrinkled her nose.

  “A woman who is very hungry for dinner.” Evidently done with the exchange, Ivy spun around to him.

  “Well, I definitely can’t have you malnourished.” Rather than offering his arm, he pointed ahead. He nodded at the congregation around them. “Good evening.”

  “Seriously.” Ivy stomped by his side.

  Caught in a stare at nothing and struggling to take in exactly what had happened, he put his hand on the small of her back and led her through the large glass doors to his friend’s restaurant. Finally inside, he gave a quick nod to the maître d’, took her hand, pulled her through the dining room and kitchen, and into the walk-in cooler. The blast of frost did nothing to clear his mind.

  Ivy looked around at all the shelves with the restaurant’s food, the vegetables, the fruits, and some little baked goods for desserts. “Logan?”

  “Did you just defend my honor because you are reenacting a scene in Hollywood Stardust?” His voice sounded distant, disjointed, but he needed the answer.

  “Considering that was never a scene in Hollywood Stardust, I would have to say no.” She let go of him and wrapped her arms around her shoulders.

  “I have a question for you.” He stared into her eyes. Everything about her was beautiful and more importantly genuine. She meant it when she said Steven didn’t exist, when she told him she would quit if he didn’t do the project with her, everything.

  “Is this the start of our meeting?” Her voice quivered with her teeth chattering.

  “Are you freezing?” He closed the distance between them and rubbed his hands up and down her arms.

  “Is that your question?” she whispered.

  “No, this is.” Without another thought, he lowered his head and found her mouth with his own.

  Most kisses he experienced were forgettable, quick flashes of fun that might lead to a whole night. Actually, if he dared to be honest, quite of few of his kisses were written into a movie, scripted seconds with no emotion.

  His kiss with Ivy possessed many things he had never experienced—passion, truth, and anticipation.

  On top of everything, she kissed him back.

  No, she didn’t stand motionless waiting to be serviced, expecting him to do everything. Instead, she responded, parting her lips, wrapping her arms around his neck. The small coo escaping her throat only fueled the need he had since the day he walked in on her defending him the first time.

  Her taste matched her to perfection, sweet with layers and depth, and even the unexpected when she took the lead in searching out his tongue with her own and pulling him closer. Any questions he had left about her were finally answered with two opposing forces, his intense arousal and his alternate urge to simply hold her tight.

  She gasped and pulled back, putting her hand to her lips. Her cheeks glowed red.

  “Thank you for answering my question.” He hooked his fingers under her chin and tilted her face up to him, running his thumb along the outline of her lower lip. “This is one scene I say we reenact immediately.”

  He went to kiss her once more. In fact, he wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon.

  She put her hand to his mouth, stopping him.

  He tilted his head.

  “This is one scene I can’t reenact.” She turned away.

  Though she trembled in his arms, something told him it wasn’t because of the cold. “Maybe we need to let it marinate for a while before we decide if it should end up on the cutting room floor.”

  Out the corner of her eye, she glanced at him.

  “How about we go have our dinner, and I’ll make sure you never miss a deadline? Maybe I’ll even pick you up in the BMW I drove for the movie.” He found himself holding his breath praying she didn’t back out.

  Somehow, their roles had switched.

  HOLLYWOOD STARDUST

  CUT TO:

  EXT. GAS STATION – SPRINGFIELD, MO – NIGHT

  The teens stop for gas before finding a motel for the night. WILLIAM and STEVEN have gone inside to get some snacks, leaving ROXY and CHARLES in the car.

  CUT TO:

  INT. CAR – NIGHT

  ROXY bites her nail and CHARLES, in the backseat, uses a flashlight to study for his test. ROXY leans over the seat.

  ROXY

  Will you sleep with me?

  CHARLES Fumbles with the flashlight, but finally catches it and looks up at her.

  CHARLES

  I don’t believe I’m one of the choices.

  ROXY

  What am I going to do? William thinks I’m with him, and Steven . . .

  ROXY wrings her hands.

  CHARLES

  What do you want to do?

  ROXY shrugs.

  CHARLES

  You are torn between what you should do and what you want to do.

  ROXY looks down.

  ROXY

  Something like that.

  Chapter Six

  “I kissed Logan Alexander.” Ivy stared at the television even though it wasn’t on. She didn’t need to watch any reruns anyway. The kiss replaying in her head overshadowed everything else.

  Giselle plopped down on the couch and held out a paper bag of mixed nuts. “Are you okay?”

  “I kissed Logan Alexander.” Ivy reached into the bag and took a handful, popping the salty treat in her mouth. Maybe she needed to join them, because she was most definitely nuts.

  “Tell me exactly what it was like.” Giselle crossed her legs and faced her. “Those are famous lips.”

  Tingles took over her body, and she sipped her club soda to cool down. Though never one to drink the mixer straight, she found it quite refreshing. Or maybe she was having a breakdown. “Remember when we used to practice kissing on our pillows?”

  “He looks a lot more sturdy than a pillow,” Giselle whispered.

  “I mean, remember when we would practice and we would picture the most incredible, amazing man kissing us back? One who would make your toes melt?” She put her hand to her forehead.

  “No wonder he kissed you in a refrigerator.” Giselle grabbed one of the couch pillows and hugged it to her chest.

  “You know how unreal those kisses appear in the movies? Like no one could kiss like that because it’s all rehearsed, but damn it looks good?”

  Her friend nodded.

  “Well, Logan kisses better than that.” With the same inflection and giddiness of a teenager, she blurted out her confession as if no one would guess her crush would be the best kisser ever. “Oh, God.” Somewhere inside, her adult self screamed to be let out.

  “It must be something in the genes.” Giselle shook the bag of nuts and picked out a few.

  For the first time in several hours, Ivy turned away from the blank television to take in her best friend. Giselle was positively radiant and relaxed. Ivy knew that look. “Where did you get those nuts?”

  “Wilson gave them to me. Every bar has to have nuts. The salt makes people thirsty and they drink more.” Giselle held a sampling of the nuts in her hand. “He said he wanted only peanuts ’cause you can get, like, tons of them for cheap, but Logan insisted mixed nuts were more classy and a conversation starter.”

  “When did you have this incredibly interesting talk
about nuts?” She dug her nails into the couch cushion.

  “After we had sex on the bar. I would call it pillow talk, but we didn’t have pillows. I was starving, and he got out this huge can of nuts. He wanted to go out, but nuts are sort of fattening and I was full, so we had sex again to burn off the calories and then I came home.”

  She blinked, wanting to wash away the vision of Giselle and Wilson having sex and go back to the rewind of her kiss. “You had sex twice with Wilson?”

  “You should have had sex with Logan. If his brother was any indication, everything we predicted about Logan and his orgasm potential is accurate.”

  “I can’t have sex with Logan!” She jumped off the couch and put her hands over her eyes. “I can’t have sex with him and I can’t kiss him again!”

  Giselle came over and put her arm around her. “Here, have some nuts.”

  “I can’t have any more of your sex nuts.” She groaned.

  “He gave me a fresh bag. The ones we used during sex, he ate.” Giselle patted her back. “I think if you have sex with Logan you’ll feel much better. Just think, you will never wonder again what it would be like to have sex with Logan Alexander because you will know.”

  “How do you have sex with a man whose poster you used to have on your wall?” She walked into the kitchen of their small apartment and leaned over the sink, not sure if she wanted to throw up.

  “Well, better than kissing a pillow.” Still holding the nuts, Giselle joined her. “So what’s next? Is he going to play the disappearing act again or are you going to get your job done?”

  The nausea she tried to fight came barreling over her full force. “He wasn’t clear on when we would meet again. He only said he would make sure I didn’t miss my deadline.” Of course, her first report was due was in two days and she didn’t know if his plans included her or not.

  “Maybe you can interview Wilson. He’s coming here.”

  As if timed, their doorbell rang.

  “I’ll be right back.” Giselle dashed away.

  Only her best friend could have a blatant one-night stand turn into a date for the next evening. She stared at the drain, the big black hole to nowhere, or the place where her nonexistent entertainment career and love life would end up.

  “Hi, Matt!” Giselle screamed a warning through their place.

  She grabbed the edge of the sink and shot up. Matt? Damn her for being disappointed and praying her visitor was Logan instead.

  “Ivy!” Giselle yelled.

  She shut her eyes and took a breath.

  “There’s my girl.” Matt’s voice broke through the all-female energy of their apartment.

  Without an escape hatch anywhere nearby, she turned. “Hey, what are you doing here?” She forced her voice to be perky.

  “I could have sworn only yesterday I told someone I would swoop in and help.” He held up his laptop bag.

  She knew his tone, teasing, slightly flirty. He used it ever since they had met in college, only with her it never produced the desired effect. She wanted her heart to speed at the thought of him, or the air to sizzle around him. If only she could think of him as something other than an amazing friend. Other girls would go crazy for his clean-cut good looks, perfectly combed blond hair, and tall, lean physique. Matthew Gentry’s persona screamed husband material. The ideal image of a parental dream.

  Yes, her assignment. The job she sort of pushed aside to think about Logan and his lip-lock. “You wouldn’t believe how crazy things got in such a short amount of time.” She widened her eyes at Giselle, giving her the girl signal to keep her mouth shut about a lip-lock with one Hollywood star. Since it wouldn’t be happening again, there was no point mentioning it.

  “Well, that’s why I’m here.” He came over and leaned down, giving her a work-safe kiss on the cheek, not a scorching kiss that required refrigeration.

  Something about his visit rang familiar. The memory lived way off in the distance, a time before Logan Alexander kissed her. Like nothing but a fan girl, she barely wanted to brush her teeth for fear she would lose his taste, but she already knew nothing about Mr. Alexander was forgettable. She swallowed and focused, needing Matt and his expertise more than ever.

  “You can make this work, even if you don’t have a Hollywood Stardust star.” He settled down at the dinette table and patted the chair next to him.

  “Well, about that . . .” She sat. How did she explain she wasn’t sure if she had one or not without mentioning some inappropriate behavior?

  “I planned for this exact contingency. You can get everything you need on your own.” He pulled out his laptop and turned it on. “I’ve helped you by putting together some preliminary ideas. It may be even better not to have anyone from the movie. That way you are not bound by any promises you made to that guy you’re crushing on. I say, good riddance.”

  “Craig only let me do this because I had a star.” Rather than tell Matt everything, she chose to find out the reasoning behind his words. A twinge hit her in the heart. Yes, they kissed, and she swore he said they would work together, but she still hadn’t heard from him. She picked up her phone, pausing before hitting the button and finding out if his message graced the screen.

  “That was just the in you needed. What you’re going to do is much better than interview a star from twenty years ago.” He turned his computer to her. “This is why I love technology. If you know what you’re doing, you can find out anything, and now you shall benefit. I’ll be helping you and Chargge at the same time.”

  She took in the spreadsheet he presented her. Everything focused on the sequel, the night at the hotel room, and speculations about Drew Fulton’s whereabouts. If she filled in the squares, the story would go viral and she would save her job and answer questions that had plagued fans of the movie for two decades.

  “This is the hotel they were at.” He pointed to the first entry. “The Beverly Garland.”

  “Right.” Although she knew every detail by heart, she tried to take in the data with new eyes.

  “Look, if you click this, it’s everything we know to date.” He selected the box, and the screen filled with images taken from the destroyed hotel room and the original newspaper article.

  “At the heart of the controversy is the arrest of Hollywood Stardust star Logan Alexander. In a tale told way too many times among the Hollywood elite, Alexander was apprehended at the Beverly Garland hotel after engaging in a drugged-up brawl that destroyed one of the suites.” She read the words aloud and flinched at the photo of Logan in handcuffs, remembering the day she had seen the picture for the first time and how she had cried. He supposedly went to rehab after and came out clean. A flash of his unlabeled vitamins went through her mind. Was he still clean? Maybe that’s why he didn’t text or call. Though she had read the story a million times, the words still stung.

  She continued, “Sources say that Alexander had been on a rampage stemming from an initial conflict with Drew Fulton. Famously friends on-screen and off, Alexander’s costars, Erin Holland and Ryder Scott, rushed to the hotel to calm the situation. By the time they arrived, police were already on the scene, and Alexander was taken into custody.”

  “We should go to the hotel. It’s been privately owned for over thirty years. Someone must remember something.” He clicked another button. “Look at the people we can delve into.”

  “The original screenwriter, the reporter from the LA Times, studio people.” She took in his list and sighed. These were the ideas she should have come up with rather than fooling around with Logan. “You thought of it all.”

  “See? We have everything we need, so you can even interview the agent again. It’s not like he’s making any money off that guy. This will be much more newsworthy.” He typed a couple of notes into the computer.

  Though the excitement consumed her, the simple act of reading what Matt had produced seemed dishonest, as if she had stepped into a pool of slime. She promised Logan not to go here. Why didn’t he call? She squ
eezed her phone, and it vibrated in her palm. Unable to resist, she pressed the button and glanced down at the screen.

  Good afternoon. We must get to work. Tell me I should be on the way, and I’ll come and get you. You can thank my brother for speeding up the process and giving me your address.

  She gasped and stopped short of hugging her phone, but couldn’t cease the shivers he created with a simple text.

  “Is everything okay?” Matt bent down to get into her field of vision.

  “Yes, this is for work, one second.” At least she didn’t lie. Logan mentioned work in his message. Was she or wasn’t she upset about the acknowledgment of work but not the kiss? Be on the way. She hit “Send” and stared down at her phone, waiting for a response.

  “Ivy?” Matt waved his hand.

  “Sorry.” She resumed staring at the computer, but the words blurred together.

  “I’m thinking you need to pose the questions and offer some theories. Make it like an expose,” he said. “If we go down to the hotel, maybe we can get someone who was there that night to appear on camera. Even filming in the room would be a coup.”

  “That would be amazing. We could even compare and contrast it with the old pictures.” Would delving into some of the forbidden without Logan constitute a breach of his trust on her part? She promised from the beginning she would get the answers her own way.

  “See.” He nodded. “Maybe we can even stay there.”

  Did Matt just invite her for a hotel rendezvous? Before she had time to digest his words, the phone vibrated once more.

  As Steven once said . . . I’ll be right on time as long as it’s my time.

  She giggled. Actually the line was . . . I’ll be right on time as long as you don’t waste my time.

  “That’s some work conversation.” Matt cleared his throat.

  “Well, I work in the entertainment department, and you work with data. It’s very different.” Though she tried to look at the real person sitting in front of her, the phone demanded her attention.

  What? Did you study this movie for school or something?

  “You caught me,” she said the words and typed them to Logan as well. She supposed she couldn’t hide it much longer.