“You can go in now.”
Putting her phone on silent mode, Billie straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath, thinking positive thoughts. The audition earlier in the morning had gone well, better even than Billie had hoped for. She had a strong feeling she’d been called here to meet with her agent because she’d been cast in the role.
Ina Jackson sat behind her modern chrome and glass desk, looking as chic as her office in a cream and black dress with high-heeled Louboutins. Her light brown hair had been artfully highlighted and then styled into a sleek chignon that showed off her strong bone structure. She screamed style right down to her perfectly plucked eyebrows. This was Hollywood after all, full of beautiful people. Even the guy who bagged Billie’s groceries looked like a blond Adonis.
Ina beckoned to her. “Come in. Have a seat. I have a lunch meeting in thirty minutes at The Ivy.”
The Ivy was the place to see and be seen. Known as a hangout for celebrities, there were always a few paparazzi staked out ready to take a few photos for the tabloids.
Clasping her hands together, Ina leaned forward in her chair. “So let’s talk honestly. The producers thought your reading went very well. I’m not surprised. You’re a good actress, which is why I represent you.”
Adrenaline surged and Billie had to steel herself to stay still. This could be it. The break she’d been waiting for. “Thank you. I think it went well too. The part just felt so natural to me.”
Ina ran her manicured nail over the surface of the desk. “However, they have a few concerns and I have to admit that I share them as well.”
Billie’s heart dropped to her feet. What the hell? Calling on her acting ability, she remained outwardly cool, crossing her legs and wearing a small smile. “Concerns? Such as?”
“Have you given any thought to my suggestion from last year about having a boob job? Plus it looks like you’ve spent too much time in the sun without sunscreen. You have freckles on your nose, shoulders, and arms. You need some intensive skin treatments. Just say the word and I can have you in a private, discreet clinic tomorrow morning. They can do the surgery and the skin peel all at the same time. You stay there a few days and then recover at home.”
Ina had broached this subject with Billie before and received a chilly reception. Billie had as many issues and insecurities as the next person but she’d long made peace with her breasts.
“I don’t want a boob job. I didn’t want one last year and I don’t want one now. My boobs are fine. They’re better than fine. They’re great. I may not be a D-cup but I haven’t had any complaints.”
Not that Billie had dated lately. In fact, her social calendar had been sparse in the last year. It was hard to keep a boyfriend around with Tyler as her best friend. Men didn’t like to compete and never seemed to understand that she was just a friend to the movie star. They always assumed she was sleeping with him.
Scratch that. Everyone assumed she was sleeping with him.
Ina checked her phone before turning her attention back to Billie. “You’ve had one now. The producers thought your reading was good but they’re concerned you don’t look glamorous enough.”
“The role is for a waitress,” Billie replied, exasperation in her tone. “How glamorous do they want her to be? Just how big do her boobs need to be?”
“It’s their show and they want boobs.”
Billie wasn’t enjoying the way Ina was looking at her, like there was something wrong with her and not this fucked-up town.
“I’m not getting a boob job.”
Ina heaved a sigh. “You’re not understanding what I’m saying. This isn’t a gentle suggestion like last year. If you want to work in this town, you have to play the game, Billie. Frankly, no one gives a shit that you’re a good actress. We have thousands of those in Hollywood. You have to be willing to do what needs to be done.”
“Is this what you think too? You think I should do it?”
Billie had a real phobia about doctors and hospitals. Nothing good ever seemed to happen in a hospital, at least when she was there. And she didn’t give a rat’s butt that it was a private clinic. It was the same thing and it probably had that smell. Antiseptic and illness. It was always the same and she wanted no part of it. If her life hung in the balance, she’d have the surgery but this was elective. If other women wanted to do it, that was awesome, wonderful, fantastic. No judgment here. But her? Not going to happen. She had to psych herself up for a week just to have her yearly physical.
“I think if you want to work, you need to have it done.” Ina threw up her hands. “And since you’re not willing to use your relationship with Tyler Gaylord to get ahead–”
“Stop,” Billie commanded, her anger rising. “Stop right there. He’s my friend and doesn’t deserve to be used.”
Ina stood and gathered up her purse and phone. “Think about what I’ve said. The part is yours if you want it but only if you have the surgery. Billie, you’re a good actress but you have to think about your appearance. It’s what will put you over the top of other good actresses with mediocre looks. Honestly, I don’t think I can get you any roles if you’re not willing to do this so you need to think hard and make the right decision. Now I need to go or I’m going to be late.”
Billie just wanted her agent to say what she fucking meant.
“Are you saying you’re not going to represent me if I don’t have the boob job?”
Ina smiled sadly. “I think that you and I have come to the end of our professional relationship. You’re a sweet person and I wish you all the best. I really do, Billie. But this business might just be a little too shark-infested for you. Maybe it’s time for you to go back home to your family and get married, have a few kids. Be like everyone else. Where do you come from? I don’t think you ever said.”
It was like taking a punch to the solar plexus. In one fell swoop she’d lost a role and her agent. To add insult to injury, Ina wanted to shuffle her out of town. Billie stood on shaky legs and put her purse strap over her shoulder. She’d walk out of here with as much dignity as she could muster. No way would Billie allow Ina to know how much this moment hurt.
“Nowhere. I don’t come from anywhere.”
It wasn’t the whole truth but certainly there was nothing there to go back to. The only home she’d truly known was with Tyler, and even he didn’t know where she came from. And if she had anything to say about it, it would stay that way. The past was best left where it was.
CHAPTER THREE
The designer clothes Tyler was currently wearing were definitely not his style. He was more comfortable in jeans and t-shirts but the magazine had him in bespoke Italian suits that cost more than the mortgage on his childhood home.
“Everything’s going great,” his publicist Garrett enthused, slapping Tyler on the back during a break as they changed up the lighting. “The photos look fantastic.”
Even Tyler had to admit they looked good. He might not be a fan of the stuffy clothing but the photographer knew what he was doing.
“I’d rather be at a Lakers game.”
“And you will be, just as soon as we finish here.” Garrett’s gaze darted over to the group changing the lighting and then back to Tyler. “Listen, we need to talk when you’re done. I just need a few minutes of your time.”
That was never a good sign. When Garrett needed to talk to Tyler it was usually because the shit had hit the fan in the tabloids.
Tyler grinned and mentally ran through the last week of partying. It had actually been fairly tame compared to a few years ago. He wasn’t as young as he used to be. “What did I do this time?”
“Nothing,” Garrett chuckled. “You’re not in trouble. We just need to talk, that’s all.”
At the end of the long day under the hot lights, Tyler put on his own comfortable clothes and let Garrett lead him to the bistro next door where they both ordered a cold beer. With every minute that passed, Tyler was growing more suspicious. Normally, Garrett was straig
ht and to the point. He didn’t dance around what needed to be said.
“You need to spit it out,” Tyler said after they’d exhausted several topics including the weather and how the Lakers were going to do tonight. “Obviously this is bad news because you wouldn’t hesitate to tell me something good.”
Garrett sighed and pressed his lips together. “You’re a damn good actor, Tyler, so telling you this isn’t easy. The whole situation isn’t fair.”
“Life rarely is.”
Despite his casual reply Tyler was on high alert. There were dozens of irons in the fire when it came to his career and some were highly dependent on each other. One problem and there could be a nasty domino effect.
“It’s Ron Weller. He’s not interested in talking to you about the lead in his next film.”
Weller was the hottest director in Hollywood at the moment and he was going to direct a movie that Tyler desperately wanted to be a part of. A book adaptation, it was the story of a small town outcast as he navigated life’s ups and downs. The role spoke to Tyler and he knew that he could do the character justice. He’d told his agent Josh that no matter what he had to play that part. He’d do it for free if he had to but it was his role.
Tyler’s fingers tightened on the cool surface of his glass. “Why isn’t Josh telling me this?”
“Because of the reason Ron doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“It’s the Thunder movies, isn’t it? I know they’re not great cinema–”
Garrett waved his hand in the air. “It’s not that. It’s you, buddy. He doesn’t want you in his movie because of you.”
Feeling like a boulder had fallen on his head, Tyler struggled to make sense of his publicist’s words. “Me? What the hell did I ever do to him? I only met him once at an after-Oscars party, for fuck’s sake. Did I hit on his wife or something?”
Garrett rubbed his temple and grimaced. “Funny you should say something like that because that’s kind of the reason he doesn’t want you.”
Tyler’s brows shot to his hairline. “Are you saying I slept with his wife? Because I’m pretty sure I didn’t.”
“No, you didn’t,” Garrett assured him, placing his palms flat on the table. “But you know Weller’s reputation, Tyler. He’s a stickler for the smallest details. He told Josh that he didn’t think that a man who has never been in love can play a man who is so desperately in love he’d give up his own life. He’s looking for an actor who has loved deeply and made a commitment based on that love.”
“It’s called acting.” Tyler slapped his thigh and growled. “What makes him think I’ve never been in love before?”
The look on Garrett’s face was priceless and would have been hilarious in any other situation. “Well…have you? It must have been a long time ago.”
“Okay, I’ve never been in love,” Tyler admitted, although it pained him to do so. It was his own private business and it shouldn’t be the criteria for a fucking role in a movie. “But I’ve loved things. Surely that counts.”
Tyler had a dog when he was a boy that he was positive he’d loved more than some men loved their wives. He’d seen how some husbands treated their significant other and it was downright shameful.
Garrett shook his head. “He wants an actor who has settled down and made a commitment. He specifically said he doesn’t want a hard-partying horn dog carrying this picture. You have a reputation, my friend.”
Hard-partying horndog. Wasn’t that special?
“Basically he wants some boring married guy? That’s what you’re telling me?”
This was his role. He’d felt it in his bones and deep in his gut. He could make this character come alive but he couldn’t even get a damn meeting with the director.
“Rob said that if you had never been in love you wouldn’t know how to act like you were in love. The other stuff was just additional reasons not to talk to you or have you audition. He doesn’t want trouble on his set.”
Tyler wasn’t going to lose this role because some tight-ass director couldn’t see past the hand on the end of his arm. He’d never been trouble on any set. When he was immersed in a role, partying was the last thing on his mind.
He’d acted like a junkie and never been one, he’d acted like an assassin and never killed anyone, he’d even been a vampire and never drank blood. Surely he could act like a besotted fool when he’d never been in love. He’d seen it in others and that was part of acting. Mimicry, for Christ’s sake.
“So he wants me to be married, or at least engaged?”
Garrett nodded. “But you’re not so you need to let this go. They’ll be other movies.”
Yes, but not like this one.
There had to be a way. He’d never married because he’d never met a woman he trusted that much. Until…
Could I? Should I? Nothing would change, not really. They’d still hang out together but now she’d wear a ring. No difference. Maybe she’d even let him pay for a few things or help her career.
“Call Josh and tell him to get Weller back on the phone. Tell him I’m engaged to be married but we’ve been keeping it quiet. That should loosen his shoelaces.”
Garrett’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “Are you?”
Frowning, Tyler was already checking his calendar on his phone. “Am I what?”
“Getting married,” Garrett repeated. “Because that would be news to me and I’m your publicist. Are you even dating anyone?”
“No, but I would never marry the women I’ve dated. I’m not that stupid.”
If they hurried with the wedding plans they could say “I do” by the end of the summer. Filming on the picture began after the first of the year.
“I know I’m going to regret asking this question but who are you going to marry then? You can’t just randomly choose someone at your local grocery store, Tyler. You can’t order up a wife like a pizza.”
People always assumed actors were stupid, and most of the time Tyler deliberately let them think just that.
“I know. If Weller and the world are going to believe it, it has to be someone that I’ve been photographed with in the past. Plus, it has to be someone that I could actually spend time with and won’t drive me up a wall.”
Scraping his fingers through his hair, Garrett groaned as recognition dawned in his eyes. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, she’s not going to do it. There’s no way in hell. Billie is going to tell you to take a long walk off a short pier.”
“I’ll beg.”
“She’ll say no.”
“I’ll offer her money.”
“She’ll kick you in the balls.”
“She does that anyway.” The more Tyler thought about the idea, the more he liked it. It was the perfect answer. “We’ve always been there for each other. This time won’t be any different. Give Josh a call.”
Inwardly Tyler wasn’t nearly as confident as he sounded. Billie was going to find hundreds of excuses to say no but she was his only hope. He’d throw himself on her mercy and if that didn’t work…
He’d better figure out a plan B, C, D, and E. Failure was not an option. This was his movie. The director just didn’t know it yet.
CHAPTER FOUR
After Billie’s crappy day, the last thing she wanted to do was go out but she’d already agreed to it last night, and a promise was a promise. Unless she had a dangling limb or was puking up lunch, Tyler was going to hold her to it. He was in his “party” mode that usually lasted about ten days to two weeks after he returned home from a movie set. In about a week he’d settle down and be more normal but right now he wanted to have as much fun as possible after having his nose to the grindstone for so long.
Disgusted with the day, Billie had taken a nap before getting ready for the evening. Luckily tonight she could dress casually in jeans and flats so it wouldn’t take long to get ready. She was applying a final coat of mascara when she heard Tyler at her front door. As usual, he didn’t bother to knock, simply barging in and yelling her name. She’
d gone around and around with him about this behavior and clearly she was wasting her breath.
When she came out of her bedroom his head was in her pantry and all she could see was his well-shaped rear end.
“Are you eating my food again?”
Straightening, he grinned and took a bite out of a cookie. “I like to think of it as our food.”
“The same way you think of my front door? This is my home and it would be nice if you knocked once in awhile. What if I hadn’t been dressed?”
He popped the second half of the cookie in his mouth. “I wouldn’t mind that. You know I own this cottage, right? I’m your landlord.”
The best one she’d ever had but it still wasn’t okay.
“Even landlords can’t just stroll in whenever they want,” she argued. “I swear I am going to change the locks someday.”
“You weren’t saying that the day I strolled in and found you in a pool of blood on the floor.”
She remembered that day vividly. She’d been standing on a chair trying to access a high cabinet over the refrigerator when she’d reached a little too far, lost her balance, and landed awkwardly on the cold, hard tile. She’d bumped her head and cut her arm on the way down and she’d lain there for quite awhile because the room had spun every time she tried to get up. It had been sheer luck that Tyler hadn’t been away on a movie set and had come by to check on why she wasn’t in the main house for their training session. That incident had set off this behavior and she didn’t see an end in sight. He was over the top protective of her and even more so since then.
“I appreciate that you were there to help me, I really do. I’m very thankful that you were home and not away on a movie set.”
He’d also taken to calling her every single day when he was away, sometimes more than once. Just to check on her. She had to admit that she enjoyed how he cared for her. It was something she hadn’t had growing up.
Wild on the Red Carpet (The Hollywood Showmance Chronicles Book 3) Page 2
