“So this is how a dream dies,” I muttered under my breath, “to thunderous applause.”
Kole’s hand froze on the door knob. “Did you just express your emotional state with a Revenge of the Sith quote?”
“Yes, I did. My geekdom snuck out and revealed itself. I’m not even going to say I’m sorry.”
“A beautiful woman that likes Star Wars?” Kole considered me as if I had just morphed into a Wookie. “At conventions they’ve spoke of such creatures, but I didn’t believe they existed until this very moment.”
“I’ll let you photograph me with my replica Mace Windu lightsaber later. First, let’s go get fired.”
“It’s not a conventional plan, but I like it.” Kole feigned enthusiasm, and tugged the door open.
Art rose from his chair to greet us, instinctively smoothing his hand over his silk tie. The sly smile that spread across his puffy face made my skin crawl with unease. “Ms. Evans, Mr. Camden, good of you to join us. Have a seat please.”
“Thank you, but whatever you have to say to me you can say while I—” I attempted to assert some authority by calmly draping an arm over the back of the nearest vacant chair, but I miscalculated the distance and found myself in a temporary windmill-arm freefall until I finally made contact with the leather upholstery, “—stand,” I finished in a high-pitched squeak noticeably absent of my fleeting bravado.
“For safety’s sake, take him up on that offer,” Kole muttered for my ears only and took a seat in the chair beside me.
“Suit yourself.” Art sat back down, slapping his palms onto the table in a playful punctuation that struck me as oddly off putting. “We called you in here today to talk about what happened on the set yesterday.”
“Ah,” I cast my gaze to the floor to hide my cringe, “my little talk with Willa. I do apologize for that, but in my defense she is a really unpleasant person.”
“Oh, no!” Art laughed and swatted the words away with a flip of his hand, his platinum cufflinks gleaming in the afternoon sun. “We actually were taking bets on if a cat fight was going to break out. Tony here had fifty bucks riding on you.”
Tony, who had an unfortunate facial mole in the shape of Rhode Island, gave me a wink and a smile of support that I found oddly empowering.
“Thanks, Tony. I think I would’ve made you proud. I’m a biter.”
“Actually, you made us all very proud,” a somber looking woman that maintained an undeniable resemblance to a back-up dancer in a Robert Palmer video countered. Her red painted lips puckered into a playful glance meant for Greyson alone.
I had completely missed him lounging in a chair at the far side of the table. It seemed dream-crushing fear was the only deterrent from the magnetic pull of his charismatic charms.
“Happy to help,” Greyson beamed, and shot me a sultry wink that well exceeded my comfort level.
A chorus of snickers filled the room, hidden behind the backs of hands.
“Have you ever had that nightmare where you’re thrown on to a stage and don’t know any of your lines?” I asked the room in general. “Kind of feel like I’m living it.”
“You’ll have to excuse our banter, Ms. Evans,” Art smiled like an Orca about to swallow a baby harp seal whole, “but you made us giddy, and we like giddy.”
Any minute they were going to lay the trap, yet for the life of me I couldn’t figure out what direction it would be coming from. “You’re … happy with me?”
Art leaned forward with his elbows on the table, the look shadowing his face befitting of a Bond villain. “We could be very happy, if you’re willing to help us out. Are you a team player, Ms. Evans? Do you want to make us all happy?”
“I’m going to need more information here,” the laugh I tagged on held more anxiety than humor, “because right now it sounds like a project that involves body oils, and in that case I’m going to come out adamantly against it.”
The suits erupted in laughter, elbowing each other at my stellar wit.
Kole leaned back in his chair, seemingly frightened to take his eyes off of them. “I’ve never seen them like this. If you need me to, I’ll create a diversion so you can run.”
“No need for acts of chivalry, Camden,” Art chuckled. “I’d hate for you to go against your norm and pull a muscle. What we are referring to, Aubrey—can I call you Aubrey?—” he didn’t wait for me to answer before he pushed on, “was that moment on set between you and Greyson. I assume you know the one to which I am referring?”
My gaze flicked to Greyson, only to find him peering back with an almost-smile tugging at one corner of his lickable lips. If he looked at all women like that, I could only imagine he got pelted with panties often enough to make an umbrella a daily staple. Heat seeped up my neck and stained my cheeks. “I’m sorry if I overstepped my bounds, I was just coaching him on the scene. Kole said it was okay.”
“Way to throw me under the bus.”
“Don’t apologize!” Art bounced in his chair. “You and Camden had this movie spiraling into absolute failure.”
“And that’s him sugar coating it,” Kole interjected.
“You nearly killed this project.” Steepling his fingers, Art fiddled with his obnoxious opal pinkie ring. “Now, my beautiful little swan, you have the chance to make things right.”
“Let’s agree never to call me that again.” Finding my legs suddenly heavy with dread, I sank into the chair I had been leaning against.
“Fair enough,” Art relented. Leaning one elbow on the table, he rested his chin on his closed fist. “To put this plainly, Ms. Evans, you made magic for us yesterday. We believe you have created a very unique opportunity—”
Greyson leaned forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees. Golden brows hiked up, a light-hearted grin adding a mischievous flare to his appeal. “They want you to be my girlfriend. You up for it?”
The air was sucked from the room in a collective gasp.
A sharp laugh, which sounded more hyena than human, acted as my only response.
“There was probably a more delicate way to say that,” Art said with a sideways, disapproving glare.
“Yeah.” Greyson shrugged, keeping his stare locked with mine as if this was an inside joke only the two of us would get. He miscounted by one. “But she probably has dinner plans, and I have a conservation rally to host.”
Beautiful and environmentally conscious. My uterus skipped a beat.
Kole had been leaning back in his chair with his fingers laced behind his head. At this new development he snapped forward at full attention. “Wait, you’re serious about this?”
Art extended his hands, fingers splayed. “You were there, Camden. You can’t deny that the chemistry between them was off the charts! It made the dailies between him and Willa look like kissing cousins. This is our chance to spin all of the media trash talk in a way that will have women everywhere panting to see our movie!”
Kole’s hands curled into frustrated claws that he raked through his hair, leaving it a disheveled mess. “And that somehow justifies pimping her out?”
Greyson raised his hand as if waiting to be called on. “Technically, they’re pimping me out. Not that I mind. She’s hot and I just dumped my supermodel girlfriend for setting my couch on fire. That said, I’m all in if she is.”
I followed their interactions the best my muddled mind would allow, my head lobbing from one to the other.
“Wha …. What are you asking me to do, exactly?” I asked, finally finding my voice.
Art scooted to the edge of his chair, practically vibrating with excitement. “Your book is about a writer that falls for a Hollywood heartthrob. We can give your readers that!”
“Through choreographed publicity stunts,” Kole added, his nostrils flaring with irritation.
“Everything will be staged to be as real as possible,” the woman, with the bun so severe her strands were tugging back the skin of her temples, stated. Her flawlessly manicured hands were folded firm
ly on the table before her. “We will tip off the media as to your whereabouts to capture every ‘moment’ of your little fairy tale romance.”
Art sprang from his chair and paced the wall of windows that overlooked the Century City skyline. “Women everywhere will want to be you. You’ll be living their dream! It’s brilliant, a complete—”
“Lie?” Kole offered, his fingers drumming against the table. “Why are you bothering with this elaborate stunt? The book has a huge fan base, the script is solid, and the cast is doing amazing. Why not let the project speak for itself?”
“That would have been our ideal option.” Art paused his strides. Parting his suit coat, he plunged his hands into the pockets of his slate-gray slacks. “Unfortunately, we still have to fix your mistake. Maybe next time you two will keep your soul-bashing love-play behind closed doors like the rest of us.”
The room fell silent for a minute as we all tried to unhear Art’s revealing statement. Tony clearing his throat snapped the room from its horrifying reverie.
“Is no an option for this little indecent proposal?” I asked. Noticing Greyson’s flinch and dry snort of laughter, I quickly back pedaled. “Oh! No offense intended, Greyson. I would be honored to ‘get up on that’—a phrase I’ve never used before and wish I hadn’t now. Yet, I think it makes my point that this is me questioning a situation that feels phony, and not you.”
“I now see why you write and don’t speak,” Kole muttered out of the corner of his mouth.
“Look,” Art slithered back into his seat at the head of the table, “I don’t want to make threats. Telling you that you either do this or we will can the film, will get us nowhere. Let’s just say that we want you to be our Cinderella. Let us pamper you, Aubrey. Live the fantasy of millions of women. All you have to do in return is say yes.”
All eyes in the room were fixed on me, causing my skin to burn under their scrutiny. They could stare all they wanted, it made me no closer to reaching an answer. Greyson Meyers was a beautiful testimony to the male gender that made me want to bite my knuckle and thank his mama. Even so, having him forced into a relationship with me where we willingly subjected ourselves to public scrutiny brought to life every reoccurring nightmare that had ever haunted me.
I opened my mouth to decline their offer, and was fully prepared to accept the consequences of my stand for morality, when Greyson rose from his chair. He might as well have moved in slow motion with a fan lightly blowing his silky blond locks back from his magnificently carved features, because that’s how I saw him. His intense gaze, the color of a steaming espresso, locked with mine. He skirted around the table and strode my way with the same confident determination he’d showcased in The Vindicator when a car had exploded right behind him. Casually dressed in a fitted black T-shirt and matching jeans, each feline stride hinted at the sculpted perfection hidden beneath those bothersome fabrics.
Beside my chair, he took my hand and guided me up on legs that threatened to buckle beneath me. “What do you say, Aubrey?” His velvet-soft fingers laced with mine. His swoon-worthy physique brushed against me with a skimming touch that clouded my mind of any and all rational thoughts. “Do you want to fall in love with me?”
Staring into a face that proved sometimes God likes to show off—with the promise of the unimaginable dangling before me—my only response was a meager gulp.
Chapter 9
I fiddled with my engagement ring, trying not to reconsider my decision to finally reveal the truth, based on the stoic frown that had robbed Reporter Barbie of her earlier zest. Be that as it may, I had come this far and couldn’t turn back now.
“It’s easy to talk yourself into a bad idea,” I explained. “The hard part is talking the people that know you better than you know herself into supporting your asinine decisions.”
“You don’t date. Plain and simple. Some people don’t ski, some don’t eat sushi. You? You don’t date,” Tandy pointed out, bitterness sharpening each word with a snarky edge.
“I know.” My window down as I drove, the California breeze blew a lock of hair into my mouth. I caught it and bushed it back behind my ear.
Shifting in the passenger seat, Tandy faced me directly. “Did you tell them that? Or, perhaps mention why?”
“I was going to, but then I figured it would be more effective to make paper dolls and act out my failed marriage telenovela style.”
“For someone that makes her career with a mastery of words, you should know they can hurt.” Folding her arms over her chest, she drummed her fingers against her biceps. “I have to say, I do find it uplifting that after all of this time you are at least open to this idea. However, I feel it’s important to point out that you think people are pretty much the worst, and are setting yourself up to being surrounded by a plague of them on a regular basis.”
“I’m trying to look at this as a greater good type of situation.”
Tandy shook her head, her tongue dragging over her top teeth. “Making the ‘sacrifice’ of getting loved up by Greyson-friggin-Meyers is for the greater good, and this is your job. Last week at work, I spent six hours explaining to an applying college student why we needed actual legal documents to process their acceptance, only to have them immediately turn around and forge the forms. Doesn’t that sound glamorous? Don’t you want to switch places?”
“If you want to live vicariously through me, you can.” I grinned, easing the car into the left turn my GPS indicated.
Her lavender-lined eyes narrowed, her lips pinching tight. “In this moment I have envious hatred for you, yet still love you as my dearest friend. I ha-ove you. It’s a very confusing emotion.”
“My love for you is unwavering. I will hold that tether for both of us.” I eased my rented Lincoln into a parking spot under a steeply curved palm tree and threw it into park. “This can’t be the right place.”
Tandy flipped down her visor and finger-combed her hair. “It’s the beach. How can you go wrong there?”
“Have you actually read my book?” Glancing from the digital screen to the hand-painted address sign, I found them a match. “It’s supposed to be a bed and breakfast in the woods. This is a hut on the beach.”
Tandy peeked around the visor to humor me. “But it’s a pretty hut. It could be a cozy love nest for voyeuristic people that find things like doors and windows unnecessary."
“I write kink, but not that kind.” Momentarily I considered it, then shook it off as a topic out of my wheel house. “I have to say something about this, right? I mean, this isn’t even close to the book.”
“Last time you complained, you ended up saddled to my future husband. Try it again! Maybe you can steal away my fantasy love-child, too.” She countered her statement, which positively dripped with resentment, with a beaming grin worthy of a toothpaste commercial.
“There’s Kole.” I nodded in his direction, purposely choosing not to feed Tandy’s green-eyed monster of jealous. “We’ve been on better terms for an impressive seventy-two hours now, maybe he would be open to some casually dropped hints.”
Tandy seized my arm as I reached for the doorknob. “I would take a second look if I were you. See him stomping through the sand like a pissed off rhino? His Descriptive Narrative is screaming that he’s one missed shot from frisbeeing a camera into the ocean.”
Kole made her point for her by wrenching open my door, his frame filling the space. “It’s all wrong. Say it,” he snapped.
“Can he read my mind now?” I mumbled out of the corner of my mouth.
“I don’t know,” Tandy twitched her head slowly from side to side, as if a bigger motion could set him off further, “but don’t answer that. It’s a trap.”
“It’s not a trap!” Kole adamantly shook his head, the whites of his eyes bulging enough to classify his expression as manic. “The location scouts sent me pictures of a place that was perfect. This was not it. This is an abandoned fish market that still has a potent aroma of bait so strong that seagulls have roost
ed here. Granted, I’m not a master of romance. My last girlfriend actually broke up with me during sex. But still, this,” he jabbed one finger over his shoulder at the shanty behind him, “is where romance would go to die.”
“Is there another space available?” I asked.
At the same time, Tandy pondered, “Are you that bad at it?”
Her off-color comment earned a momentary silence and blank stares.
“No. Inappropriate,” she lectured herself. “Answer Aubrey’s.”
A series of rapid blinks and Kole got back to his previously scheduled panic attack. “The place I thought I was signing off on is still available. However, it is now mandatory that I see it first—lest it be another raging pile of crap, coated with crap, with a crap cherry on top!”
Tentatively, I laid a comforting hand over his white-knuckled grip on the door. “I think it’s important that you stop saying crap.”
“You have to come with me,” Kole demanded, seizing my offered hand. The crazed look in his eye made me fearful to protest.
“I don’t know.” Unable to come up with a believable excuse, I cast a pleading glance in Tandy’s direction. “I think he’s got a pretty good handle on things, don’t you?”
“No, not an option. I’m going, and you’re going with me.” Kole’s stern tone left no room for discussion. With a gentle yet demanding urgency, he pulled me from the car.
Tandy climbed out of the car. Turning to face us, she rested her arms on the roof. “As her friend, I feel it would be irresponsible of me not to ensure you have no plans to kill her and dump her body in the ocean.”
“In the ocean? No. I don’t have a boat,” Kole replied with an almost smile.
“Good enough for me!” Tandy chirped. Slapping one hand against the roof, she pushed herself away from the car. “I’ll be on the beach!”
“My Jeep is over there.” Kole motioned to a dirt-covered Wrangler with the top off. Before Tandy could get too far away, he called out, “There’s a women’s body-building competition going on by the pier. Make sure Mateo doesn’t do or say anything that gets him snapped in half by a She-Hulk.”
Adapted for Film Page 7
