But it only reminds me of the work I’m already committed to, the job I’m supposed to be at right now.
“My agent,” he continues. “She has all the contacts, and so do I, to get you any story you want and in front of people that can make it seen,” he reminds me. Not blowing his own horn, but stating facts I can’t argue with.
The man is Jack Mercury for God’s sake.
“So you want me to write for you?” I ask, not meaning to sound confused. “You want me to write articles for you?” I affirm. But he shakes his head, almost laughing by now.
“I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want,” he tells me.
“I want you to know you have choices, starting right now. Right this minute and they include staying here, in your new apartment, writing your own articles. Or you can join me on the set and we can go make some movies,” he adds casually.
Way too casually.
“Or?” I venture, remembering he mentioned a series of options.
“Or we can just hang out, watch old movies and eat take out in bed,” he says, shrugging again, seeming equally happy with all three of his ideas so far.
“How long would it take you to write your articles, for your other job?” he asks, glancing at his watch and looking past me out the window.
Making me wonder if he’s thinking the same as me.
The two of us in bed with nothing else to do for the rest of the day. Maybe for every other day after it as well?
“Uh. I dunno, maybe an hour or two.” I shrug, remembering how much time it actually takes to put together an article.
Not that long.
“And how long to write up a couple of your own, about the same?” he suggests, his devilish smile inviting me to join the dots.
“Uh… Yeah.” I smile back, noting his eyes moving to my laptop sat on the top of my bag as he raises his brows.
“I never took you for a movie star,” he says with finality, sounding like he’s made up his mind about a dozen things, but only leaving me with more questions than answers.
“What is all this about a movie role?” I ask him, gripping his shirt front before he kisses me, demanding an explanation.
“That whole thing we did yesterday. Hair, makeup. Having a camera up your nose in between people shouting at you to stand here and do this then that? Do you want that?” he asks, making a face.
Asking himself it feels like more than asking me.
“…For like months on end,” he adds loudly. “Not just for a whole afternoon or even a few days. Like, months on end?” he asks me again.
My head shakes quickly. I don’t even need to think about it.
It was fun, sure. Really fun to spend a day with Jack and see how things get done but no.
No way would I commit to a month of it, let alone a lifetime.
“I don’t know how you do it,” I tell him, learning more in a few moments than I ever could from trawling the gutter of Hollywood in search of a real story.
“I don’t know how I ever did it either,” he says absently. His hand searching for mine but his eyes full of hope instead of doubt now.
“So, you’ll stay?” he asks, making me feel more confused than ever for a moment.
“Just one question?” I ask, sighing. Knowing I want nothing more than to stay, but as long as it’s with Jack only.
Alone.
As long as I know I don’t have any competition apart from a movie studio or maybe even a cranky boss I haven’t quit just yet.
“Who is your agent, really? And what’s the deal between you two?” I ask firmly, trying not to sound too jealous.
“Denise?” he asks me back. Looking down for a moment before sighing.
“I may as well tell you now, you’re going to hear far worse once she gets hold of you.”
I feel my stomach drop like I’m about to get my first dose of real life Hollywood scandal. But it’s not like that at all.
I realize I’ve maybe just hung around the wrong people for too long.
“She’s my mom,” Jack says. Not ashamed, a glow of pride in his face as he tells me.
“Your mom?” I stammer back, feeling my own heart glow in reply.
How sweet. Jack Mercury’s agent is his mom. Who knew? And who’d tell anyone else?
I sure as hell don’t plan to, and now I can’t wait to meet her.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jack
I did promise to call Denise back within the hour with some answers, but I was hoping I’d have more definite answers and not just for her own ears by now.
But things are still going pretty well, considering.
I lay it out as best I can for Olivia, only leaving out the part that tells her I think I’m done with movies. That maybe I just want to settle down and have a family from now on.
Not wanting to ask if that’s what she wants right now, given today’s already been nothing but twenty questions.
Maybe our ‘family’ could just be her and me for a while?
But I also want the best for her. If she really wants to be a movie star, I’ll support her in that. Although I’d much rather we just went for my third option. My choice.
Sitting at home from now on, worrying about our next choice of show and meal from room service rather than chasing some attention or a few more zeroes on the bank accounts.
Which are pretty healthy by the way, no real need for any of us or anything from now on if we don’t really want to.
Olivia breathes a sigh of relief once I tell her Denise is actually my mom, making me wonder what she was thinking this whole time until she explains.
“I thought she was, well. Y’know?” Olivia says, asking a question instead of answering one.
It only gels with me once she opens her eyes wider, pushing her silent statement home.
“Oh. Really? You actually thought...?” I half ask before shuddering.
I mean, I love my mom. But not like that, and besides, we only need small doses when it comes to each other’s actual company in real life.
Most of our contact is through the phone or email.
It’s not like she lives in my pocket.
“Tell me more about this movie idea,” Olivia says suddenly, taking a sharp turn I didn’t expect in the conversation either.
“But, the articles?” I ask her in a short reply. “Hollywood gossip… Journalism?” I try to remind her calmly, noting her coy smile.
Reminding myself about the other things I’m already thinking that have nothing to do with her work.
Family. Babies. A life of leisure.
“You can finish up working on anything you need for Naomi anytime you want now,” I explain, motioning again towards the ready-made workspace.
“Then you could start working on your own articles. Your own business, Denise has already offered to make sure you get all the help you need to get things off the ground,” I tell her, feeling myself fidget for some reason.
“Between us, we have more contacts in Hollywood than I’m sure even your current boss has,” I hear myself tell her firmly.
Concerned she might somehow choose the movie star lifestyle over a simpler, home life.
Here, or anywhere else she chooses. But along with me.
“You seem keen for me to write something of my own, Jack?” she asks, still smiling. “Why is that?”
“Well, that movie deal.” I remind myself aloud as well. “It’s already at odds with the articles published yesterday. The studio already wants to sue the media for copyright infringements. The pictures taken on set were unauthorized and the stories that followed, simply untrue,” I sigh.
“I mean, you could. Maybe should really sue them too. Nobody asked your permission to publish those photos,” I remind her.
“Now I know what it feels like, I guess,” she flushes. Her face deepening with color as she reflects on her career choice. “But you’re forgetting. I still work for Naomi and her column. Wouldn’t that mean I’m as guilty as she is in
all this?”
“That’s not what I meant,” I tell her. “I mean, it’s a great chance to turn things around and start working for yourself instead of that paper.”
But she frowns. “You mean, work for you and your mom agent?” she almost snaps, before apologizing.
“I mean, it sounds like you’re just asking me to choose one side over another, Jack.”
“You wouldn’t be working for anyone, Olivia. You’d be your own boss and this would or could be your own place. You can have anywhere else if you like...” I hear my voice trail off.
“You’re not just talking about work, are you Jack?” she finally asks, and my head shakes out of reflex before I even find the words.
“Maybe I’m not.” I finally confess.
“Maybe I don’t want this to all sound so much like I’m trying to keep you to myself if only to stop you from running away,” I add, thinking how crazy it must all sound to her so soon. Remembering what she’s told me how things stood with her just a single day ago.
It’s her turn to look shy now. “I’ve got no problems with you keeping me all to yourself,” she murmurs, biting her lip.
“I just might need more than one day to process all this,” she adds, glancing around before settling her eyes on mine again.
I can hear myself swallowing hard, aware of my feelings more than ever and what I should say.
But given what she’s just told me herself, I know anything more is too much too soon right now.
Even though it’s going against my every instinct.
“But you’ll stay at least?” I ask, not meaning to sound desperate but needing to know she will.
She nods slowly, her smile refrained but her eyes still on mine.
“Oh, I’m sure we can come up with a reason for you to keep me around just a little longer,” she muses aloud, almost to herself as she opens her legs just enough to make my gaze shift before she closes them again.
A low groan escapes from deep inside me and for the first time, in case I hadn’t noticed already. I’m done. Finished.
Completely at the mercy of Olivia Fanning, super fan cum contest winner.
“No,” I tell her quietly. “You’re not going anywhere.”
We both sit for a while, staring. Smiling, until she finally speaks.
“I guess I should do some work. Send some articles through to Naomi, along with my resignation?” she finally adds.
Music to my ears, just knowing she’ll at least try something away from her current job. Trust in me to support her for a while.
“Like I said,” I remind her. “If things go south, I can always beg for your old job back.”
“I don’t think that’s gonna happen somehow, do you?” she asks, reaching over to pull me closer. Her legs opening again to wrap around me as my hands move up her thighs, making us both groan loudly.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Olivia
“I’m supposed to be working,” I gasp, Jack’s hands finding more than just my thighs once I agree to stay.
I’ll never get anything done at this rate, but maybe that’s his plan?
“You’re right,” he admits bashfully, slowly moving to stand up and not needing to hide anything from me anymore, but I don’t make it easier for him when I reach out for his straining erection with both hands.
Rubbing a flat palm up and down one side of him while my other hand tries in vain to grip him through his pants.
“Quite a pair we make,” he groans, motioning to unzip himself before we both groan again.
This time when the door buzzes loudly, making Jack roll his eyes as if he knows exactly what’s going to happen next.
“Sorry,” he murmurs awkwardly, straightening himself quickly and striding over to the doorway, taking a minute before he swings the huge steel and glass archway open.
I’m surprised, but not shocked.
From everything, Jack’s told me so far. Plus the day we’ve had, I don’t think anything could really surprise me anymore.
Before she moves over to introduce herself, I know it’s Denise.
To even think someone so young looking, so small and trim could be Jack Mercury’s mother is strange.
I’m glad he told me beforehand or I know I would be hella jealous right now, but her thin hand is out, searching for mine even as she crosses the room.
She’s pecked her son’s bowed cheek, whispered something into his ear, and is making a beeline straight for me, gushing like the stereotypical Hollywood agent.
“I know you’re busy, but I just had to see you myself,” she declares, taking my hand in hers warmly and leaning over to kiss me shamelessly on the cheek before setting herself on the edge of the huge leather chair closest to me.
“I’m Denise, Jack’s agent, and manager, how do you do?” she gushes, keeping my hand in hers and making me feel strangely relaxed where normally I’d be petrified.
“It’s alright Mom. She knows.” I hear Jack chime from behind her, not even changing the expression she has on her face, other than a slight cocking of her brow.
“I see,” she murmurs to herself, not missing a beat of her own prepared Hollywood style entrance.
“So does she also know about the urgency regarding the studio contract? The meetings that are waiting for you both?” she teases Jack without turning to look at him.
“The Hollywood career that awaits?” she asks me in a lower tone before Jack shifts across the room and extracts her from me.
“Okay Denise, what gives? I thought it was pretty clear before that I’d let you know what was gonna happen. And how’d you get here so fast anyway?” he protests, making her lip curl with its own sense of satisfaction.
I can see where Jack gets it from.
“I wasn’t far behind you both,” she almost purrs. “But recent developments and the fact that our young friend here refuses to switch her phone on,” she adds, making me blush with embarrassment.
“What’s happened?” Jack interrupts again, moving towards me defensively, wanting to get between us both, I can tell.
There’s a dramatic pause any director might be proud of, but Jack’s got no time for games now.
“What’s happened?” he asks her firmly, his voice straining into a near growl as he looms over us both.
“Oh you may as well know,” Denise sighs, rolling her eyes and abandoning her own attempts at drama, her high heels clipping on the tiled floor between thick rugs as she paces.
“Goodwyn’s lawyers called. A complete retraction from all papers and magazines concerned with a full apology, and you’ll be pleased to know,” she adds, shooting a glance exclusively for me.
“Your former employer, Naomi what’s her name has been fired. No rush on the next articles you might have been pounding out,” she adds quietly, turning only to gauge Jack’s response more than mine.
“But, what happened?” he gasps. “What started all of this, surely not just what happened yesterday at the studio?”
Denise shrugs, shifting her attention to me again, that slight, knowing smile returning.
“Who knows? Rumor has it the old studio head has a heart after all, that somehow word reached his ears a certain young lady was foul prey to some Hollywood gossip journalist’s spell, doing all her work for no reward and he decided to punish her,” she intones with dramatic effect, making Jack roll his eyes now.
“Speak English. Mother, will ya?” he says exasperated.
But she only holds her shrug, giving me a sly wink that we both know Jack doesn’t see.
“There’s still a movie deal on offer,” Denise says firmly. “But I don’t think it’ll be enough to interest either of you, given half of what I’ve heard?” she asks, turning her gaze to her son, who blushes.
“What does that mean, and how would you-” But she only holds up a finger to silence him before bringing it to her own lips.
“The best gossips. The most potent forces in this business, my boy!” she announces. “Know when to spea
k up and when to say nothing.”
Jack’s shaking his head in disbelief, almost embarrassed, but I can’t help but get the feeling his mom is trying to tell me something without saying a word, using her own statement to prove her point.
Either way, I feel relief but also sheer panic at the thought of my now former boss being fired.
“So, I guess I’m out of a job now too?” I groan aloud, slumping back into the thick leather couch, feeling it cold against my skin now.
Trying to remind myself that Jack’s pledged himself and his apartment to me long before we both heard any of this.
Denise turns away sharply, giving Jack all the room he needs to move closer to me, with his body and his words.
“Like I said, Olivia. You can stay here, work from here if you want, or not at all. I’ll always look after you, no matter what,” he reminds me, his hand over mine making me remember his body’s pledge to mine.
That we’re a team now, no matter what.
“That’s my boy,” I hear Denise murmur to herself. And not in a bad way either.
She sounds proud.
Expectant.
Like she knows something I don’t again, but I honestly can’t digest it mentally. Today, and even yesterday has been too much.
I feel like I’m dissolving into something I can’t control anymore. Like granules into a glass of milk.
Jack’s phone chimes in his pocket and we both let him know it’s okay to take it.
He keeps an eye on me for a moment before moving into the kitchen, speaking in guffaws with who I can only guess is the head of a certain movie picture studio from what we all hear.
It gives Denise and me some time alone, and she wastes no time in telling me how things should be from now on.
“He loves you, Olivia. I know he does,” she tells me, shocking me with her bluntness. Making me smile once I hear the obvious truth from a stranger.
“Not as much as I love him,” I tell her, jumping a little when I feel her hand on my shoulder. More surprised when I feel my own cover it without looking up at her.
“Oh, I think there’s time enough for that, just give him time and maybe forgive the interferences of a stupid old woman every now and then,” she says softly, squeezing my hand in hers.
Hollywood Hearts: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Page 11
