by Virna DePaul
“What would Payton do?” I echoed. “What would Payton do?”
Chapter Eight
Gwen
Saturday morning, two days after Garrick called me “sexy shorts,” I filed into the conference room with a flood of other cast and crewmembers. Avoiding Garrick at all costs, which was no different from any other day I wasn’t specifically pitted against him on set, I skirted around behind the mahogany conference table, excusing myself as I wove between people, and found a deserted corner to make camp. I pretended I didn't see Garrick when he entered, framed by Shane and Tyler.
"Hey you."
I spun around to face Erica, wearing a sunny smile, who had somehow managed to come upon me unawares, I’d been that absorbed in Garrick and feigning disinterest.
"Morning," I replied, trying to mirror her expression.
Giving me a playful elbow to the side, she said, "We missed you at the bar last night." They had gone out again, and this time I didn’t answer my door when someone knocked at two a.m. But I’d really, really wanted to.
With a sheepish smile, I shrugged. "I really shouldn't be going out. My dad is rather strict when it comes to my... extracurricular activities."
“Maybe, but your dad’s not here, right?”
I shrugged, thinking in some ways my dad was always in my head.
How pathetic.
Conversation swirled about the room, billowing like a jolly storm as the place got packed.
Last to enter was Lyle with a young woman who couldn’t be over 5’0” marching dutifully behind him. Curvaceous, tiny around the middle, and full lipped, she had short, glossy auburn hair that feathered and flared out at her naked ears. Her shade of lipstick, not a single line smudged, nearly matched the midnight autumn color on her head. She wore sharp blazer and pencil skirt, outfitted so professionally that she could have been the poster child for the ideal secretary.
“Oh, good!” Erica whispered with soft, enthusiastic claps of her hands. “Alice is here!”
“Alice?” I asked, oddly bewitched by the tiny young woman who simultaneously seemed like she could be a Disney princess who talked to animals, as well as an alarmingly militant captain in said princess’s army.
“The assistant I hired for Lyle. I interviewed ten candidates via Skype last week. She’s even more adorable in person!”
Taking his place at the head of the room, Lyle raised his hands and tried to take command of the clamor.
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen!” The noise only escalated. “Settle down... settle down!”
“Sir,” Alice murmured, tapping him on the shoulder and offering a small megaphone that she seemed to have produced out of thin air. Lyle’s eyes lit up.
“Yes. Adorable, and startlingly prepared,” I muttered.
Erica nodded. “Well, look at who she works for. I chose the best of the bunch. She seemed to have answers before I even asked the questions, yet they didn’t even sound rehearsed.”
“Nice,” I said, impressed.
“Ah. Thank you, Alice.” Lyle pulled a chair out from the table and climbed up on top. His head nearly touched the ceiling. Raising the small megaphone to his lips like a weapon, he filled his lungs and boomed, “IF I COULD HAVE EVERYONE’S ATTENTION, PLEASE.”
I cringed. Rounding on Lyle, some with their hands pressed tightly over their ears and others groaning, the garrulous audience went silent as a tomb.
“Much better.” He staked his fist on his hip. “Thank you all for attending.” Perusing the room, he seemed to grow more pleased by the second. “Wow!” he exclaimed. “This is smashing! We actually have a much larger turnout than usual.”
“That’s because Alice sent the memos out yesterday morning,” Erica said.
Lyle blinked. “She did?” He glanced down at Alice from his perch. “You did?”
“I did, sir,” she verified flatly.
“Oh. Well, thank you! You’re one of my best investments!”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll have that carved into my gravestone.”
Across the table, Tyler snickered, which caught me off guard. Tentatively, I met his gaze and smiled. He actually nodded and smiled back at me.
“Anyway, I’m very pleased to announce that Straightlaced is a tremendous success! Give yourselves a hand.” The room erupted in hoots, hollers, and claps, with me probably clapping the loudest. Relief covered me like a warm blanket. Thank God.
The noises of celebration died down after only a moment so that Lyle could continue; no one wanted him to have to use the megaphone a second time. “We continue shooting Episode Two on Monday, and we’ll be following the same weekly schedule for completion and release from here on out. Each season will be twenty-two episodes. We’re looking at the end of Season One putting us at the beginning of July. Fans across the States, as well as in Canada and Europe are clamoring for more. Tumblr, Twitter and Facebook are all abuzz with hashtag Paycey!”
“Paycey?” Garrick parroted incredulously.
“The ship name—a merging of the names of the two people in a couple,” Erica explained. When Garrick leveled her with a blank stare, she fluttered her hands to dismiss his confusion. “It’s a Twitter and Tumblr thing.”
To everyone’s delight, Lyle handed the megaphone back to Alice. He clapped his hands together. “I’m also thrilled to announce that Miss Ellis’s book sales have quadrupled since even before filming began.”
“Really?” I whispered to her, conveying with my face my surprise and playful admonishment for not being told sooner.
Erica shrugged coyly and I had to marvel at her humility.
Lyle continued. “We also have an offer from the network for a second season!”
Shocked, I gave thanks for the wall behind me, because I may have fallen over had it not been there to hold me up. “That fast?” I asked above the eruption of cheers.
“Well,” Lyle replied, eyes locked on me, “it’s mostly rumor, nothing in print yet. But when a show achieves this big of an impact, no one should be too surprised. Our two main characters are hot, hot, hot!”
I felt a rush of heat light up my face when Garrick leveled me with a smug, satisfied smirk and fought the urge to stick my tongue out at him.
“We have a solid fan base, but…”
“But?” Erica asked. “Oh, I don’t like the sound of that.”
“Nothing major, just a few tweets brought to our attention.”
“Out with it, man,” Tyler prompted, suddenly focused on Lyle.
“There is some skepticism about whether Payton and Lacey will actually become a believable couple in the end because of how far they have to go to reach a middle ground between their personalities.” He cringed, no doubt awaiting a negative reaction from us all, as though we had never experienced a breath of criticism in our lives. Still, it did come as a shock.
“What?” Garrick and I said simultaneously.
Erica only chuckled. “They’re very different. I expected this.”
I huffed softly and crossed my arms, wedging myself tighter into my corner.
“That being said… I do have several housekeeping things I’d like to go over.” Lyle tapped his fingers together, as though emphasizing how harmless he was and that attacking him would be tantamount to attacking a toddler.
“Uh-oh,” I heard Tyler mumble.
“Garrick and Gwen, it has been brought to my attention that you’ve hit a few rough patches out of character. I understand that not all actors get along. I don’t get along with very many actors either,” he added with an awkward laugh. “Everything is riding on the interactions the audience sees, even the minor details. Don’t hold back.”
Erica, whom I assumed had to be his informant, turned to me, her eyes tracking between Garrick and myself. I flashed her an accusing traitor scowl.
“I think what Lyle is trying to say,” Erica told me, “is that if this is going to impede your ability to accurately portray Payton and Lacey that you need to work it out as soon as possible.
You can agree to disagree, and learn to be civil.”
I inhaled, ready to respond, but Garrick beat me to it.
“You’re right,” he admitted.
I blanched and rounded on Garrick, certain I had heard him wrong.
“I take this,” he went on, averting his eyes occasionally as though keeping his attention on me was difficult. “It’s my bad. And it reflects badly on the whole team. I’m sorry, Gwen. I haven’t been acting very professionally. And I did purposely pick a fight with you at dinner the other night. I didn’t mean what I said about your folks. Can we start over?”
“Are you feeling okay?” I finally managed. A wave of hushed chuckling rolled through the crowd. What in the world had gotten into him? Was he drunk again? Was I dreaming? Had he been abducted and an alien was using his body?
Garrick rolled his eyes. “Please don’t make me say it twice. My pride is already a bruised, misshapen lump of pulp.”
Gathering myself to full height, and coming away from the wall, I crossed to him. “Then… I’m sorry too. Yes. We can start over.”
“As professionals,” he confirmed, extending his open hand.
I took it, his touch igniting a nauseating swarm of butterflies in my gut, and gave his hand a firm shake. “As professionals.” I stared at him, realizing suddenly that his black eye had completely faded, and wouldn’t even need to be covered with make-up for filming anymore. It seemed strangely fitting given what seemed to be our mutual determination to start fresh.
Lyle gave a cheer and a clap of approval. “Wonderful. Keep running lines with one another when you have the time.”
After a gentle tap to his arm, Alice came up on her toes and whispered something to Lyle.
“He’s here, is he?” Lyle asked. “Splendid. Do show him in.”
With a smart nod, Alice breezed around behind him and swept herself out of the conference room.
“Now. I’d like to introduce a special guest today. He’s been working with us behind the scenes and has finished up for now.”
All heads turned to the door as Lyle gestured to it. Alice trotted inside with a tall young man. I gulped. I knew instantly the guy was that legendary beast that was even cockier and hotter than a Hollywood bad boy—he was a genuine rock star.
He had more swagger in his little finger than I had in my entire being and he had a right to be.
He was Liam Collier, frontman for Point Break, one of the hottest bands around. I loved their music—part punk, part melody—and I’d been thrilled the band was doing the soundtrack for Straightlaced. I swallowed hard, almost bursting out laughing when Erica put a hand on my arm and said, “Well, hot damn.”
Tall and muscular, Liam had short brown hair, casually gelled, and an easy airbrushed sort of smile. I could feel my bones liquefying.
Hot damn indeed.
“Howdy, all!” he said.
“This is Liam Collier, lead singer for Point Break,” Lyle said, probably unnecessary as most of the room already knew who Liam was. “He’ll be doing the show’s cover song as well as voiceover for Payton.”
I was going to move forward and introduce myself, which I felt overly giddy about doing, but before I knew it, Garrick had crossed the room.
“Gar!” Liam exclaimed. They grinned and embraced each other with stiff pats on the back.
“You know one another?” It slipped out before I could stop myself.
“Since middle school,” Garrick replied. “But we didn’t bond until we were both drama geeks in high school.”
“This champ fought for me with the studio,” Liam chuckled. “He’s the reason I landed the part.”
“Oh,” I said, unable to mask my surprise. I had heard the studio was initially reluctant to dish out the cash that would land Point Break, but I figured they’d come to their senses on their own. I studied Garrick. It must have smarted to get one of his old friends to fill in where he lagged, but he was looking at his friend with nothing but affection. I also hadn’t pegged Garrick as the sentimental type who had friends from grade school. Was I missing something there?
The cast welcomed Liam and introduced themselves. Relaxed and utterly disarming, Liam carried himself with the aplomb of a trained socialite. The news that this would probably be his only appearance came with a sting of disappointment, but for me it wasn’t because he was so hot. Rather, it was because he knew the real Garrick Maze, the Hollywood stud who’d once been a self-proclaimed drama geek in high school. I barely resisted the urge to grab Liam’s hand and drag him off to extract every tidbit of information about Garrick he’d allow me.
“With that settled and squared away—” While everyone resumed their seats, Lyle patted himself down and peered over his glasses at the chairs around him. “Where did I put that damn thing?”
Alice, deadpan, handed him his aqua blue clipboard, which she held up in front of his face.
“Ah!” he exclaimed triumphantly, adjusting his glasses as he fumbled with the paper trapper. “Now for payroll!”
* * *
That night, after an early dinner and a jog on the treadmill, I decided to make use of the hotel’s indoor water facilities. They had a pool, hot tub, and sauna. To my knowledge, Garrick and the guys were running lines again. Erica had locked herself away to write, so it looked like I was flying solo, which was nothing new. Leaving my towel on the peg outside, as I didn’t want it to get damp from the humidity, I slipped into the sauna and shut the door.
My bathing suit top had gotten a little small lately, and it made my breasts look larger than normal, but due to the season, I didn’t think I’d need to run out and buy another. Victoria’s Secret wasn’t cheap and even though I was here in New Mexico, I still had to cover my rent in California.
Using the ladle that had been hanging from the hook on the wall, I scooped out a helping of water from the basin that had been provided and drizzled it onto the coals. With a sigh, I closed my eyes. I immediately pictured Garrick and once again felt the same burn of curiosity in my chest that had made me want to interrogate rocker Liam Collier about his friend. Strange, but even after that horrible incident at dinner the other night, my obsession with Garrick just seemed to be growing bigger and bigger. I knew that had to do with his innate attractiveness, what had turned out to be an undeniable talent on set, and yes, the way my body still trembled whenever I thought of him visiting my room two nights ago.
You know, if you didn’t hate me, I could like you. I may already like you.
You are really drunk right now.
I’m not drunk enough to forget you in that lingerie.
My “sexy shorts,” he had called them. What had Garrick meant about potentially already liking me? Had that been the liquor talking, or had the liquor simply freed him of his inhibitions enough to speak the truth?
I snorted. More likely, it had freed him of his inhibitions enough to want to get laid, even if it would be with the uptight priss who’d yammered on about love at dinner.
My eyes snapped open when I heard the hinges of the sauna door creak. Garrick, dressed in white and blue swim trunks that made his natural tan sinfully apparent, stopped short, steam pouring out into the colder air behind him.
“Oh. Hey, girl,” he said stiffly with a hint of apology.
“Hi,” I whispered back. Stunned by his appearance when I’d just been thinking of him and suddenly feeling very self-conscious, I hugged myself and scooted to the corner of my slippery wooden bench.
“I can come back,” he offered, eyes darting from me to the coals and back again.
“It’s fine,” I stated awkwardly, tucking a strand of damp hair behind my ear.
“Great minds, huh?” he tried, stepping inside as I swallowed thickly. There were two other benches, smaller ones, framing the walls. Surely, he wouldn’t think to sit with me. But I was wrong again. He planted himself in the middle of my bench, not the opposite end, and I felt my pulse rev up. “I just had a lift session at the gym. Can you tell?” he teased. He flexed,
sporting an arrogant gin.
After a glance, never quite able to fully fuse my eyes with his, I stared at the door. “Quite the specimen,” I muttered. Of course, Hollywood’s new playboy would have an incredible physique, but I didn’t need him naked in front me, flexing his muscles to know that. I, along with thousands of other girls, had probably fantasized about his body while watching him in action on the big screen. And given I’d actually been on set with him for hours and hours, and had spent time with my lips pressed against his… Well, fantasizing about Garrick Maze’s body had become a habit.
“I was joking,” he insisted, leaning toward me and giving me a gentle bump with his shoulder. “Loosen up, doll.”
With a subtle roll of my eyes, I uncrossed my arms and settled by hands on the bench.
“Killer suit,” he said and I had to fight to keep my arms down.
Suddenly, I felt feverish. “Thank you. Yours is nice too.” I swallowed thickly and hoped the wall would inspire me to say more. “It was nice meeting Liam today.”
“Yeah. He’s cool. We fell out of touch after high school. He went his way in the music industry after he got signed and I went mine. We party together occasionally.”
“Sounds fun.” I smiled.
“Yeah.”
One could have cut the awkward tension with a knife. “I—I—” I stammered, “I thought you were running lines with Shane tonight.”
Garrick huffed dramatically and slumped back against the wall, somehow accentuating his shoulder and chest muscles all the more. I blushed. “Ty took him from me, the traitor. Said Shane has more potential than I did at his age, so he wants to be his mentor now.”
Surprised, I blinked. “How brutal.”
He shrugged, settling back into his causal, lackadaisical coolness. “Eh, brutal honesty helps you get places in this business.” His dark hair, moistened and weighed down by the humidity, hung in his eyes in wavy pieces. He was so, so handsome.
“That’s true.” I reached up and nervously twisted my hair over my shoulder, wishing I brought something to tie it up with. “Speaking of brutal honesty…” I said softly, worrying at my lip. “Do you remember our conversation the other night?”
