I held up my hand. “You’ll see it in your account tomorrow. Take the morning and get a new phone. I wish you would’ve told me sooner, Nat. I could’ve helped you before this.”
“Syn, you really don’t—”
“It’s happening, so don’t fight it. Merry Christmas, okay?”
She sighed. “Thank you, Syn.”
“No thanks needed. You’re my assistant, not my slave. I want to make sure you’ve got the tools to do your job.”
Nat went to go thank me again, but my phone rang out in my purse. I put my fork down and rummaged around for it, and my stomach dropped when I saw who was calling. When Madison called me in the middle of the day, it was never good. A random call from my publicist was almost always bad.
“Here, scooch over,” Nat said.
I slid over in the booth and plugged in my earbuds. With one in my ear and one in Nat’s, we were prepared to take the phone call.
We just weren’t prepared for what Madison had to say.
“Sorry, sorry. I know I’m interrupting lunch. But this is serious. And we need to talk,” Madison said.
“I’m sure it isn’t good. Spit it out,” I said.
“There’s a story about to hit the press. The only reason why I’ve gotten a heads-up about it is because I kiss ass, and well.”
“What’s up?” Nat asked.
“Oh, hey, Nat. Did you get a new phone yet?” Madison asked.
“Focus, please,” I said.
“Okay, yes. I have figured out what your former costar’s been up to since he finished his tenure on the show. And it’s not good.”
I sighed. “Madison just say it. Because I think I know what it already is.”
“He’s got a new lady love, Syn. Anna Heckov.”
Nat furrowed her brow. “That’s the Russian actress that just got cast in that movie. Right? The, uh… the new action one. What’s it called?”
“Sin City 2? Yes. And guess who her leading man is?”
I closed my eyes. “Liam.”
“Yep. There are pictures galore with this press release, too. Pictures of them kissing on the rocks of Rhode Island at the actress’s new beach home. Them walking around a small, quaint town. Hand in hand.”
“Sounds rehearsed,” Nat said.
“Even if it is, the man didn’t even have the decency to alert me to what was happening. That, in and of itself, is grounds for retaliation. What say you, boss lady?” Madison asked.
All I could do was pinch the bridge of my nose, though. It was all I had to keep myself from crying. I mean, Liam and I weren’t serious. Not completely. But I had to admit, I’d developed a crush on the guy. The positive press I’d gotten from being at his side combatted the image of me being a raging nutcase. Because apparently, people couldn’t separate who I really was from the hard-ass detective I played in my debut television show.
But now, all Liam had done was making me look like a pathetic little twit.
“When does the story run?” I asked.
“Tomorrow morning, but pictures of Liam and Anna canoodling in other places are already starting to pop up in the rumor mills and entertainment television shows,” Madison said.
“Shit,” Nat murmured.
“We have to stop this deluge of media. It’s going to ruin my reputation and blow back onto the show,” I said.
“I’m two steps ahead of you already. I’m already preparing a statement to go out the second that story hits in the morning. And in the meantime, the quote I’m giving to all the blogs and rumors mills is this: ‘Syn wishes the best for Liam and Anna, though she would have enjoyed a little heads-up as to the fact that their relationship was over.’”
Nat started giggling as I shook my head.
“No, that’s worse. Just say I wish them the best, good luck in their movie, and Godspeed. Or something like that,” I said.
“Well, that’s no fun,” Madison said.
“She’s right though. A statement like yours paints her as the victim; she can’t be the victim,” Nat said.
“Exactly. Keep it smooth and positive. No air of malice. Okay?” I asked.
“Fine, but I can’t control what the blogs say. And some of them are already casting a rough light on Liam by postulating that you knew nothing about this,” Madison said.
“We control what we can and let everyone else put the pieces together. The general public isn’t stupid. They’ll figure it out eventually. But that doesn’t mean we have to give in to it,” I said.
“I’m with Syn on this one,” Nat said.
“I’ll come up with something in strong language and run it by you before the day is out because the last thing we want to do is make you look like the jilted woman in any way, especially with rumors of him dating her behind your back already floating around,” Madison said.
“We’ll work on it and get it ready for tomorrow,” I said.
“Okay talk to you soon then,” Nat said.
We hung up the phone, and I slumped back against the cushion of the booth. Looking as pathetic as I would in the media soon enough didn’t jive with my brand. I didn’t play the victim. I was never the victim. And right now, Liam was trying to cast me in that role for his own benefit. Holding hands while walking through a small town? Kissing on ocean rocks? That kind of stuff screamed “staged.”
Then again, Liam was always concerned about his image.
“Come on. Let’s get you out of the restaurant,” Nat said.
“People are staring, aren’t they?” I asked.
“There are a couple of waiters who keep eyeing out. Come on. I’ll get our food to go.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not hungry anymore.”
I settled the bill with some money on the table, and then the two of us headed out the side doors. We rushed to my car, and Nat slid into the driver’s seat while I shrouded myself as much as I could. I was more angry than hurt. Angry at Liam for tossing me under the bus like that. I mean, our relationship had brought both of us positive press. It had skyrocketed both of our careers. Who the hell was he to toss me aside when it suited him?
I had half a mind to expose our fake relationship in order to cast more doubt on his and Anna’s partnership.
Don’t be that person. Don’t let Hollywood do this to you.
It was the one promise I made to my mother before I’d closed out my bank accounts, stuffed the money away, and headed to Los Angeles on a train. Six years ago, I was a nobody, a nobody who was working two waitressing jobs just to afford a studio apartment that had two other girls living in it. No matter what I had promised my mother I wouldn’t let Hollywood harden me. I wouldn’t let it manipulate me. I wouldn’t let it turn me into some power-hungry, emotionless robot.
It was hard sometimes, though.
“I bet landing that movie is why he quit all of a sudden,” I said.
Nat sighed. “Probably.”
“That asshole.”
“He really is one, yes.”
“He left a show that catapulted him into the spotlight high and dry for something better. I hope that movie chews him up and spits him back out.”
“Syn…”
I sighed. “I know, I know. But, I’m angry. I’m allowed to be angry, right?”
I looked over at her and watched my assistant, who had really become a good friend of mine, nod.
“Yes, you’re allowed to be angry. You’re just not allowed to wallow. You’re doing the right thing, keeping things as professional and as straightforward as you can,” she said.
I sighed. “Sometimes, I hate being nice.”
“We could spin this in a way that looks good on you. If the general public comes to the agreement that he was sneaking around behind your back—”
“Liam would be enough of a shark to come out and admit our relationship was a fake. Trust me, I’d rather that rumor be squashed as nothing but.”
“You really think he’d do that?”
I gazed out the window. “Yeah, I
really think he would.”
“People are going to either think you’re a bitch who drove him away, or a pathetic female deserving of sympathy.”
“I have to say, your honesty is a breath of fresh air at times.”
“I’m sorry. I just—”
“Red light! Red light!”
Nat slammed on the brakes as the two of us flew forward. I braced myself against the dashboard. Car horns honked as Nat sighed. I slowly looked over at her and saw her hands white knuckling the steering wheel, her eyes welled with tears.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Syn. I just—”
I patted her knee. “It’s okay. Just—eyes forward, yeah?”
She was right, though. Those were the only two interpretations I had right now. Either the public would think I was some woman to have sympathy for, or they’d think I was some sort of bitch who’d pushed him away. Either way, it wasn’t the kind of look deserving of the role I had or of the television show I was on.
Which meant my entire acting career was on the line with this.
“Can we go back to set? I need to think,” I said.
Nat nodded quickly. “Sure thing.”
Horns honked behind us as Nat moved at a snail’s pace, but whatever got us there in one piece, I was okay with. When we got to set, I led her to the costume department and told them to outfit her with another blouse. Preferably one that was dark in color, in case she spilled something on herself again. Then, I pulled my phone out and started searching my name and Liam’s, reading all the rumor mills and content blogs that churned out anything they possibly could. I wanted to read through it all, so that I was readily prepared for tomorrow and nothing could blindside me.
And as I crossed the makeshift alleyway in the studio, I heard a couple of men talking.
“What? You made a deal with one girl. Why can’t you make it with another?”
I whipped my head up and gazed down the alleyway. I narrowed my eyes as I quickly made my way into the darkness, under the overcast hangings of the set the props professionals had so skillfully built for us. Deal? What kind of a deal? I had to admit, my curiosity was piqued. But the closer I moved toward the conversation, the more shocked I became with it.
I saw two of the stuntmen standing there, and one of them didn’t look happy. One of their voices was filled with anger, the other, frustration. There was something about an engagement. Some mindless talk I didn’t understand. Then, one of the guys said something that started my wheels turning. Wheels that struck up an idea that might be beneficial for everyone involved.
“Look, you’re in a rough place. You need a fiancée to keep your visa, and fast. You don’t get to be picky.”
“What are you doing?” Nat whispered harshly.
I jumped at the sound of her voice, ignoring the rest of what the guys were talking about.
“Come with me. I have a plan,” I said.
I gripped her arm and dragged her off set as the guys’ voices fell quickly behind me.
“What? What’s happening?”
I dragged her to my dressing room off in the corner before I closed the door behind me. I took one look at her beautiful black blouse and gave her a thumbs-up. Then, I smiled brightly as I crossed my arms over my chest.
“I have an idea,” I said.
“For what?” Nat asked.
“An idea that’s going to get us all out of this fucking mess Liam’s made for all of us.”
“Oh! Wonderful! Should I get Madison on the phone?”
“Actually, you’re the one I want to help me with this because you have an impeccable eye for design.”
She paused. “Why would you need that?”
I licked my lips. “Because if I play my cards right with this? We’ve got a wedding to plan.”
3
Gael
“Double whiskey. Neat.”
I sat down at the bar as I rattled off my order to the bartender. With a nod of his head, he set about pouring me two fingers of the amber liquid. If I wasn’t careful, I’d blow my whole damn paycheck in a place like this. Especially since it was right across the street from where I lived in some shoddy studio apartment I could barely afford.
The fuck was I thinking trying to wrangle in a girl like Elizabeth?
Setting aside the fact that we weren’t ever really in love, she still meant something to me. I still felt this need to protect her, and to make sure she was happy with her life. What kind of man was I if I didn’t want that for the woman at my side? Certainly not the kind of man my father raised me to be. The bartender slid me my drink and I picked it up. I downed it, relished the burn, and slid the glass back to him before he poured me another.
Hell, who was I kidding? I could’ve never kept Elizabeth around. I didn’t make nearly the amount of money necessary to give her the weekly allowance her father did. At best, I could give her half. And if she wasn’t willing to sacrifice her luxurious lifestyle in order to help me out, then there wasn’t anything I could do.
Not that I hadn’t tried to convince her otherwise.
“Here you go,” the bartender said.
I threw back that drink as well before sliding the glass back to him.
“Rough day?” the man asked.
I grunted. “Yeah.”
“Wanna talk?”
“You some sort of part-time therapist?”
“Some people would call me that, yeah.”
I rolled my eyes. “Another drink will be fine.”
The man poured it. “Let me guess. Woman troubles.”
“That obvious?”
“A guy downing whiskey faster than I can pour it? That’s usually the culprit.”
I snickered. “Yeah, well. Broken engagements are shit.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
I shrugged. “It was an arrangement; we weren’t really in love.”
“Doesn’t mean it sucks any less. Weddings have purposes, even if their purpose isn’t love.”
“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”
“Hey, just trying to give you an ear.”
The man handed me my third drink, and I forced myself to sip on it. If I had my way, I’d use the weekend to drink myself into oblivion before being back on set come Monday morning. I stared at the mirrored backdrop behind the bottles of showcased liquor. I took a good, long, hard look at myself. Blue eyes stared back at me. Black hair ruffled over my forehead. My squared-off jawline had been tense from the second Elizabeth had called me to tell me shit was over.
My fate is sealed.
And that realization forced the rest of the third drink down my throat.
I’d lose my job in a matter of weeks. My visa was set to expire one week after Elizabeth’s and my wedding. And without that wedding, it would expire; I wouldn’t have enough time to renew it before they deported me back to Spain. The life I’d worked so hard to carve out for myself—the dreams that kept me going as a young boy—would be all for naught. I’d be finished. Unemployable in the field. I’d lose my place in a country that had embraced me with open arms and provided a foreigner with all the opportunities I needed to succeed.
The Christmas music blasting from the jukebox in the bar made me cringe I mean that shit really didn’t help my mood. Way too loud, way too cheery, and way too forecasting. At this rate, I’d spend Christmas with no family and no friends in a place I hadn’t called home for a while now. A place I never really called home, ever. Another holiday spent alone. Another holiday spent gazing out the window, wishing and wanting and waiting for what might never happen.
“Another one,” I said.
I lifted my glass for the bartender, and he eyed me carefully. I scowled right back at him before sliding him the glass. Then, I placed my forearms on the bar and waited for my drink and my inevitable end.
“I’ll have what he’s having.” A feminine voice called out.
The bartender nodded as the familiar voice sounded in my ear. I slowly looked over, shocked at
what was happening beside me. The first thing I saw were her legs. Those long, silky smooth legs. They slipped around the barstool before she easily sat against the cushion of the seat. Her hazel eyes bored into me as someone else sat down behind her—a short, curvy woman with glasses that kept sliding down her face and a black shirt that seemed to have dark splotches all over it.
But what drew my gaze back to Syn Sycamore was her smile. It was a hopeful smile, a kind smile. A smile I didn’t expect from a woman who had her reputation around set.
“Two double whiskeys. Though, this is your last one,” the bartender said to me.
He eyed me once more before he walked away, and I heard Syn giggle. A soft, decadent sound, one that didn’t fit the description I’d heard so much about regarding the woman beside me.
“How many have you had?” she asked.
I narrowed my eyes as she sipped her drink, and not once did she flinch.
“You drink whiskey?” I asked.
She shrugged. “You expected something a little fruitier?”
I grinned. “I was thinking more of a flavored martini.”
“Well, maybe you can buy me one of those next.”
I turned my stool toward her, liquid courage burning through my veins. “And why would I do that?”
“Hi, I’m Nat.”
The girl with the glasses piped up before she stuck out her hand. I didn’t intend to shake it, because I didn’t know what the hell these two were doing in a dive bar like this.
“Can I help you with something?” I asked.
“Actually, you can,” Syn said.
Nat put her hand down softly before ordering herself a soda. But it was Syn’s grin that kept my eyes glued on her. The sinful grin that crossed her face already had my cock throbbing. Aching. Begging to be set free. I shifted myself on the stool, hoping to God on high my cock wouldn’t shoot up and embarrass the fuck out of me in front of my leading lady.
“I’m impressed with your work, you know,” she said.
She slid to the edge of her barstool to get closer to me. “Tell me, how do you make destruction look so easy?” Syn asked.
I snickered. “I suppose it’s in my blood.”
“Have you always wanted to be a stuntman?”
His Secret Baby Page 2
