Adapted for Film

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Adapted for Film Page 10

by Stacey Rourke


  “You know, I knew I was going to regret asking, yet I did it anyway. I blame myself for that horrifying response.” Reaching over, I pried the magazine from Tandy’s hands. “It’s so weird to see myself in The Gossiper of all things. The photographers missed the part where I talked Greyson into splurging and scarfing down a red velvet cupcake. The thing was the size of my head, and he killed it! It was impressive.”

  Tandy leaned her head back to glare down the bridge of her nose at me. “You know I love you, but if you ruin that boy’s perfect six-pack I will run you down with the rental car.”

  “It was one cupcake.”

  Silently, she held up one finger in warning.

  Soft moaning from behind us provided an odd soundtrack that was difficult to ignore. Still, I had learned not to turn and investigate. Greyson and Willa were writhing on a bed in the middle of the beachfront condo set. Lighting crews, the boom operator, and three cameramen circled the bed to capture every intimate detail of their scripted interlude. I had been watching the pivotal moment for my characters come to life, when Willa moved her leg and gave me a view that should’ve been reserved for her lovers or her gynecologist. That’s when I tapped out. Tandy, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away for longer than sixty second intervals.

  “Wearing nothing but a sock,” she groaned her appreciation. “And did you see how well he filled that thing out? Mmm. Makes me wanna bake cookies for his momma.”

  “Compliments like that you give to his padre,” Mateo interjected as his stride passed us to get to Kole. “You should know his is micro next to mine, mi reina.”

  “He called you ‘my queen’.” Tilting my head, I considered the little man stalking his way toward the director’s chair. “That’s kind of sweet.”

  “The fact that he grabbed his crotch when he said it cancels it out,” Tandy muttered, her almond-shaped eyes narrowing as she schemed. “You know, if you create a diversion, I bet I could steal that sock.”

  “What are you planning to do with his love sock?” I grimaced at the foul ideas that immediately sprang to mind. “You know what? I don’t want to know. For the sake of our friendship, and the plausible deniability I need to maintain if the cops question me, don’t tell me.”

  The groaning from the set reached its fevered, climatic conclusion with Willa whimpering like an excited baby seal.

  “Annnnd, cut!” Kole hollered, flinging off his head phones. Mateo immediately pounced, gesturing wildly as he unloaded what appeared to be a plethora of grievances.

  “Oh, yeah, baby. Climb out of that bed nice and slow, just the way that mama likes. Aubrey?” Tandy smacked my arm in three rapid strikes that increased in sting and intensity with each crack. “How can you possibly be looking anywhere else but at your pretend bae right now?”

  Rubbing my arm, I reluctantly followed her gaze. “You know, in a weird way you and Mateo are oddly perfect for each other.”

  Greyson extracted himself from the scene. Every inch of his chiseled body, minus that hidden beneath the sock, was on display for all to appreciate. He was a testimony to his gender. A masterful work of the male canvas … and he appeared to be headed this way.

  His assistant rushed to his side, sliding a terry cloth robe up his arms that Grey shrugged into place and knotted at his waist. His path was temporarily blocked by Willa throwing back the sheets and confidently slinking from the bed. Refusing the robe offered to her, she strode from the set clad in nothing but a flesh colored thong and pasties. She held her head high, glaring daggers at anyone that dared admire her exposed physique.

  Tandy clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, her tone an odd combination of resentment and respect. “I would hate her, but if I looked like that I would never wear clothes.”

  “Because you’re so modest as is?” I let playful condescension drip from my tone.

  “Who am I kidding?” She grinned, her shoulders raising in a coy shrug. “That’s why it takes me so long to answer the door at home. Always naked. Always.”

  “Friendship doesn’t mean we have to tell each other everything,” I stated, blanking my face of all expression.

  Of course in that moment Tandy could no longer hear me. Greyson was within a ten foot radius, thereby making her deaf to any words that didn’t pass his lips.

  “There’s my girl.” His chin jerked in my direction.

  The flash of thigh peeking out from his slightly parted robe caused my pulse to race. My mouth suddenly parched. “Hey … you.” Yep, I momentarily forgot his name—and mine.

  Shooting me a wink, his sexy smile widened with naughty promise. Granting Tandy a brief nod of greeting, he disappeared into his trailer with a husky, “See you soon, Aubrey.”

  Tandy turned slowly, her eyebrows rocketing into her hairline. “How do you do it? It’s like you stumbled out of bed, tripped over a leprechaun, and fell into his pot of gold.”

  Rolling the magazine up tight in both hands, I smacked it gently against the top of my thigh. “If I see his pot of gold, you’ll be the first to know.”

  A look of genuine appreciation dawned across her face. “L.A. is changing you. I like it.”

  “Is that the magazine that everyone is talking about?” I hadn’t heard Kole walk up behind me and jumped at his voice in my ear.

  “Camden!” My cheeks blazed, my self-conscious gaze shifting from his face to the magazine and back again. “Yes, but it’s no big—”

  Before I could finish, he snatched the tabloid from my sweaty grip.

  “Moist,” he muttered and wiped the pages off on his pant leg.

  Freeing my hair from the pen that held it up, I shook out the strands and twisted them back up tight just to have something to do with my empty hands.

  “Wow, look at that,” Kole sucked air through his teeth and cringed. “That is, without a doubt, the most miserable grimace I have ever seen one person give another. You don’t have to tell me yes or no, but it was halitosis, wasn’t it? Blink once for yes.”

  Rapidly, I blinked my confusion. “Wait … what?”

  “That was too many, too fast for me to get a definitive answer.” Leaning back on his heel, Kole studied my face like an abstract work of art. “Granted, my one instruction was a little unclear. Let’s try this again—”

  “There she is! There she is!” Sebastian burst into the room in a fuzzy purple jacket and shiny red pants. Behind him, rolling racks full of sequins, feathers, and leather were pushed in by members of his obedient staff.

  For a beat all I could do was stare, my blood turning to ice. “He might as well be wearing a hockey mask and wielding a chainsaw.”

  Tandy immediately sprang to her feet and rushed to the racks to riffle through the “pretties.”

  Kole clamped a hand on my shoulder, pulsing it in a quick squeeze. “Don’t look now, but I think you’re joining the cabaret.”

  “Art is very pleased,” Sebastian purred, pushing himself between Kole and me. Leaning in, he freed the chewed pen from my hair and fluffed the strands around my face. “America is all a quiver over you, dancing on the edge of falling head over heels in love. Tonight, my flower, we’re going to give them that final nudge!”

  “What’s tonight?” I gulped, suddenly feeling like Greyson’s love sock had been shoved in my mouth.

  Sebastian’s eyes, lined with purple glitter, flashed with mischievous intent. “Tonight, you become Hollywood glamour!”

  Raising one hand, he snapped his fingers and his overzealous team swooped in to surround me.

  Chapter 15

  Filling my lungs, I dug my fingernails into the padded armrests of my chair and pushed myself to standing. I exhaled the trapped breath at the window, where I gazed out at the panoramic view of Los Angeles. “I’m not proud of this next part. As a matter of fact, it probably holds the blue ribbon spot for the most mortifying moment of my life. But, if I’m going to tell the story, I have to tell all of it. And that includes my night at Club XS.”

&nb
sp; RB grasped her own armrests, her head whipping in my direction. “I–I thought that was Hollywood folklore, like the dead munchkin in The Wizard of Oz!” she stammered, blinking rapidly in her struggle for comprehension.

  “That’s bleak.” I cringed over my shoulder at her. “There are no dangling little people in my story, I promise. Instead, there was thumping music, flashing lights, and a swarm of beautiful bodies grinding to the rhythm.”

  “From what you’ve told me, that must have made you miss your sweatpants terribly,” she chuckled. Retrieving a cigarette from a sterling silver case, she held it up between two fingers. Her eyebrows rose in an unspoken question.

  “You have been listening,” I laughed, and lowered my chin in a brief nod for her to freely light up. “At the time it was the newest hot spot, an entire establishment that showcased the finer points of living in excess. The waiters and waitresses were all working models. The drinks were the size of my head—and occasionally laced with substances that later caused them to lose their liquor license. The food was mind-blowing and had been prepared by the latest winners of those Food Network shows. Sebastian had planned out the entire night. Greyson and I were supposed to reign over the room like Hollywood royalty. Many of the True Love cast and crew had even come out to sit with us in our pedestaled booth and watch Greyson transform it into a makeshift throne with me as his queen. What happened instead held none of the anticipated glamour, but a fair amount of splatter …”

  With Tandy at my elbow, I made my way up the six-step, touch-activity illuminating stairwell. The metallic halter top Sebastian had forced me in glittered blue under the pulsating lights. The faux leather pants he’d paired it with made it mandatory for me to suck in my stomach if I wanted to do something crazy like breathe.

  Greyson scooted from the booth and extended his hand to me at the top of the stairs. His easy smile welcomed me, his approving gaze traveling down my length. The minute I laid my trembling hand in his, he tugged me close enough to breathe against my cheek, “You look amazing. Are you ready for us to become the king and queen of clubbing?”

  Pulling back, I shouted to be heard over the thumping music, “Our kingdom smells like alcohol and regret.”

  “I think that’s Mateo’s entourage. They’ve been pregaming … pretty much since I met them.” Greyson jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at the red-sequin clad ladies at the far end of the table that were trying to start a conversation with a visibly uncomfortable Kole.

  A bead of sweat streaked down from between my shoulders blades, put there more by nerves than room temperature. “Who else from the cast is here?”

  Grey jerked his head in Kole’s direction. “You’ve already seen Camden, down there fending off the ladies.”

  Kole glanced up at the mention of his name, took a long pull off the long neck bottle in front of him, and tipped it my way in greeting.

  Before I could offer him anything more than a smile, Greyson placed one hand on my shoulder blade and pivoted me toward the writhing masses. “Mateo is out there on the dance floor, which Tandy can tell you all about since she hasn’t taken her eyes off him since she caught sight of his Cuban moves.”

  “What?” Two stairs down from me, Tandy’s head whipped around. “Nah, I was just … uh … Is there a drink menu on the table?” Shouldering her way past us, she scooted into the booth with her earlobes burning tomato red.

  “That’s still not the best part.” Grey laughed, forcing my stare from my friend’s little walk of shame to the tune of a Rihanna song.

  “What could possibly be better than that?”

  His thumb and forefinger gently cradled my chin and pointed my stare right where he wanted it. “Look at the dead center of the dance floor.”

  Willa stood statue still under a bank of blue, green, and purple flashing lights. While the crowd around her popped and locked, she kept her arms firmly crossed and didn’t venture so much as an interested sway. Her thigh-skimming chainmail dress begged for attention; unfortunately, the scowl she countered it with scared even the bravest souls from attempting eye contact.

  “What is she doing?” I asked, hiding my giggle behind my hand.

  “Far as I can tell?” Greyson cocked his head, his tongue flicking over his bottom lip. “Either making a political statement about her hatred for consumerism, or trolling for dinner for her vampire brethren. It really could go either way.”

  “Maybe it’s both; political vampires!”

  “That seems a redundant statement.” Letting his hand slide down to the small of my back, he steered me in the direction of the booth.

  I scooted in beside Tandy, who was busy getting drink recommendations from Mateo’s girls. Grey followed me in, his hip grazing mine beneath the table. The moment we were situated, he slid an arm around my shoulders. The tip of his index finger traced small circles along my upper arm, sending shivers dancing down my spine.

  “So, tell me,” his forehead brushed my temple as he whispered against my ear, “who are you tonight?”

  “I’m good, thanks,” I mumbled, the intensity of his gaze in combination with his skin on mine was making basic articulation an Olympian feat.

  “No, my queen,” two fingers of his free hand caught a lock of hair and glided down the length of it, “who are you? The situation you’ve found yourself in allows you to take liberties with your identity. You could reinvent yourself, try on any … fantasy that’s been lingering in the farthest shadows of your mind.”

  I watched his succulent lips form the words and had to stifle the whimper that threatened.

  Tugging gently on my captured strand, his ravenous stare locked with my mind. “Any little whim you’d like to explore, you can … with me.”

  “I,” can’t remember my name or how I got here, “think I’d like to try one of those giant fishbowl drinks people are walking around with.”

  Greyson’s swirling hand fell limp against my shoulder, a sweet, understanding smile softening his dashing features. “Fair enough … for now. You wait here, I’ll go get it.”

  Catching my hand and dotting it with a quick kiss, Greyson slid from the booth. The second he descended the stairs—that sparked to life with blue light under his feet—girls swarmed. He moved in the direction of the bar, trying to avoid the twerking booties that zoned in on him.

  “Looks like we might need a resurrection of Bar-Bree to keep the ladies away from your pretend boyfriend.” Tandy pursed her lips, her long nails drumming against the table top.

  “Nope, no way.” Adamantly shaking my head, my lips disappeared in a thin white line. “Bar-Bree died tragically in a shower of tequila and mid-riff tops. She will not be having a Lazarus moment.”

  Kole leaned forward on his elbows to inject himself in the conversation. “I will offer cash prizes to learn more about this mystical persona you speak of.”

  “I don’t think we need to—”

  “No incentives needed! Bar-Bree was hard-core, and I had mad love for her,” Tandy exclaimed, eagerly cutting me off. “She could pop that bootie in a way that would make Nicki Minaj blush, drink whole fraternities under the table, and check any bitch that dared to cross her.”

  “That girl?” Kole stabbed a finger in my direction, a combination of astonishment and disbelief etching deep lines between his brows. “Aubrey Evans, the up-tight literary mastermind whose sphincter clenches at the mere idea of giving up control was a barfly?”

  My palms shot skyward in annoyance. “I was dating a musician! It was all an act I put on to keep other chicks off him. It absolutely was not a lifestyle choice!”

  Greyson momentarily reappeared, depositing one fishbowl in front of me and one in front of Tandy, before getting swept back into the crowd by Mateo’s slinking entourage.

  Closing my lips around the neon yellow twisty straw, I drew my first sip. Feeling as if my face was being turned inside out, I slapped the table until I managed to choke it down. “Wow! There is no longer alcohol in the world because it is all in this
glass.”

  Tandy followed my sip with one of her own. Her jawline retracted into her neck, giving my stunning ebony friend a striking resemblance to a thumb. “Is there lidocaine in that? Why is my tongue instantly numb?”

  “That’s not salt around the rim,” Kole warned after I swiped a finger through it. “It’s crystalized Absinthe. You eat that and the walls will start taunting you … trust me.”

  Tandy’s lips curled into a down-turned C as she considered that. Decision made, she licked the rim.

  “Even Bar-Bree wouldn’t have attempted that.” I shook my head in disbelief.

  Tandy craned her neck to peer through the crowd. “Sure she would have. She was a party goddess. She could’ve even kept up with Mateo. Did you see that boy dance? He’s like a pocket-sized version of Usher. And you know what they say about a guy that can dance ...”

  “That his mom probably put him in tap classes?” Kole offered, tipping back his beer.

  Tandy glanced his way with genuine appreciation. “Thank you. I needed that.”

  “Happy to offer a little perspective.” He grinned, wiping his lips on the back of his hand. “You can repay me by telling me more about Bar-Bree.”

  “Ugh!” I groaned and gulped down another swallow from my fishbowl that burned down my gullet. “Are we still on that?”

  “I just want to know if you ever had to, as Tandy put it, ‘check any bitches.’ ” He air quoted the words with a devilish grin.

  “I think I ‘checked’ the wrong person,” I admitted. There was no sadness in my tone at the memory, just the wisdom of hindsight. “My issue should’ve been with the guy that came home covered in hickeys and blaming his guitar strap for them.”

  “Looked like a pasty, albino leopard,” Tandy mused, nodding along at the memory.

  Kole drained what was left of his beer and slammed the empty bottle down on the table. “Try dating an actress sometime. They’ll tell you that you’re being irrational by being jealous of their co-star, then BAM! A sex tape of the two of them doing it on your bed gets leaked nationwide.”

 

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