"If I do it, would you fly in? Work remotely from the site?"
She grimaced at the question. In theory, yes, she could. But she'd always found she got a better feel for her clients when she did the interviews in person. Video interviews were definitely a second choice because it was harder to read body language and expressions that way. "I don't know. Maybe."
"Well, there's time to figure things out. I haven't said yes yet."
"But Rikki wants you to do it?"
"Yeah. It's a series and really high-profile, so the work is good, the pay is off the charts, and it's the next step for me right now. Something I haven't done before."
Oliver stood and held out his hand, tugging her to her feet before cradling her face in his palms to kiss her. It was a long time before he let her up for air but when he did, Marsali inhaled a shaky breath. There was nothing like Oliver's kisses.
But she couldn't help but wonder… how many of his costars felt the same way?
The Matchmaker’s Secret: Chapter 18
It was early evening when they made it back to Oliver's home in Beverly Hills, and after a trip to the restroom to freshen up, Marsali made her way through the house to find Oliver, who sat outside in the sun, opening a package.
As she walked toward him, she saw him toss several books onto the table in front of him to focus on the papers he removed next. The script? Or the contract? She wasn't sure how things worked here in that regard.
She paused inside the house, taking in Oliver as he lowered himself onto one of the cushioned seats and flipped the cover of the bundled papers to begin reading. It seemed surreal to her how they'd managed to get to this point in their friendship-turned-relationship in such a short amount of time. But she loved seeing him look so relaxed and at ease as he reviewed whatever came next for him.
Oliver must have felt her perusal, because he lifted his head, his gaze zeroing in on her.
"Hey, beautiful. You going to join me?"
She lowered her arms to her sides and stepped out of the house. "You look very nice sitting there, Mr. Beck."
He grinned at her words and motioned for her to sit beside him, but when she got close, he tugged her down on his lap.
"You look very nice no matter what."
Oliver used his hold to bring her head low for a kiss. As it always did whenever he touched her, Marsali's mind whirled and heat unfurled deep inside of her. "Mmm," she said, ending the kiss and snuggling against him. She burrowed her face into his neck and inhaled, loving the scent of his cologne and sea air and that indefinable something that was just Oliver. "So what's the initial verdict?" she asked. "Any idea where they'll be filming?"
"Looks like the story is set in Paris."
Paris? Paris, France? That's one heck of a remote location. "Oh. Wow. Okay, I guess I won't be seeing you for a while."
"Oh, yeah? Think you're going to get rid of me that easily?"
Oliver began tickling her playfully and she scrambled to get away from him. As she landed on the cushion beside Oliver, her foot hit the coffee table and knocked the stack of three books to the patio floor. "Oh! Sorry."
Oliver's husky chuckles filled her ear as he took advantage of her almost prone position, nibbling her ear. Her gaze locked on the covers of the books near her and she froze, despite the tingling teasing Oliver continued to lavish on her neck. "Um, Oliver?"
"Mmm?"
"What are those?"
He raised his head, a bemused expression on his face.
"What are what?"
"The books?"
"Oh," he said, moving back to kiss her neck. "They sent the book series and the first script."
Her body went hot and cold in an instant. "That's the series they want you for? You'd be the male lead?"
The throatiness of her tone must have gotten through to him, because he lifted his head and shoved himself back on the couch. Marsali was slower to move, her brain scrambling for clarity.
"Yeah, why? Have you read them?"
"No, but… I've heard things. That's the role Rikki wants for you? That's what you want to do?"
"I haven't read it yet but Rikki has never steered me wrong on a part. Why?"
"It's just… from what I've seen, the characters are very… sexual. You'd be doing that?"
"I don't know but it's just a part, Marsali."
Oh, but it wasn't. And he wasn't just an actor but her boyfriend… "May I see the script?"
Oliver snagged the script from where he'd left it and handed it to her. Marsali untangled herself from the cushions and Oliver and stood, moving several steps away from him before she randomly flipped the pages open and saw… "Oh, my word."
She skimmed the page quickly, embarrassed heat blasting through her body from the detailed description laid out on the page. Bondage. Sex toys. Spanking? "You can't do this."
"What?"
"You… Oliver, you can't seriously be thinking of… You can't take this part."
"You just said you hadn't read the books."
She held up the script to the page she'd just read. "No, but I read this and… Oliver, really? This is the next best role you can get?"
His face darkened and she realized in an instant that she'd insulted him with the question. Maybe Oliver's ego wasn't impervious as she'd thought.
"What do you know about acting, Marsali? I haven't read the script yet but if Rikki says it's good, it is."
"Because of the money?"
"And other things. Marsali—"
"How much money do you need? There isn't enough money in the world for me to do something like this on-screen for millions of people to watch a-and… I don’t even want to imagine what they’d do afterward.”
“Do you have a problem with sex?”
“Seriously? No, I don’t, but I think certain things are private and not meant to be shared.”
“Rikki said it’s a love story. I thought you’d be into that, if nothing else.”
“Wow. Okay. No, I can't do this."
"Can't do what?"
She held the script out for him to take, aware of it shaking because of how badly she trembled. "I can't be a part of this. Any of this."
"You're giving up on us because of a part I haven't agreed to yet?"
"You want to, though. You believe Rikki's advice on doing something like this is better than me telling you it's not a good thing."
"Yeah, well, maybe if you'd actually asked me instead of ordering me to give up the role of my life, I might've been a little more receptive. We don't all live in Marsali's make-believe world, you know. Life gets gritty and dark. It's not all sunshine and roses. It's unrealistic."
Marsali lifted her chin and clenched her fingers at her waist, focusing on the pain of her grip rather than the pain inflicted by his words. "I'm very well aware of how dark life can be. And how sexual. But we can protect ourselves and those we love if we try."
The moment the words left her mouth, she wanted to cry. Had she really just told him she loved him? Now?
"It's a role, Marsali. Stage kisses and—"
"You're naked. She's naked and you're pretending to— It's triple X!" She spied Oliver's stiff countenance and knew she fought a losing battle. Only he could decide whether or not to take the part. "I want to leave."
"Marsali—"
"I'll get a cab."
"No. Just wait a sec, will you? I'll drive you. We need to talk about this."
"There's nothing more to say."
They made the drive back to her hotel in silence, and once they pulled in and a valet approached, Marsali gathered up her bag and quickly opened her door. "Don't get out."
"Marsali—"
"I need some time, Oliver. I need to think."
"Marsali, listen to me. Will you please wait?" he asked, reaching across the Jeep to grasp her arm and hold.
Her feet were out the door and she turned to glare at him. "What?"
"You're really ending this? We can't discuss it?"
She stared at him a long moment, eve
ry fiber of her being screaming to throw herself against his chest and hold tight until the outside world didn't exist anymore. But it would always intrude, and the career he held meant even if he didn't take this part, there would always be another and another. "You want to take the part."
"I want to consider it and not be told I can or can't do something when it's my career we're discussing here."
"I understand. That's why I hope you'll understand that I can't be involved with something like that," she said. "Or with someone who is."
"I don't do well with ultimatums, Marsali."
She shook her head and struggled to hold back the tears burning her eyes. "It's not an ultimatum. It's… just the truth. Goodbye, Oliver."
The Matchmaker’s Secret: Chapter 19
Oliver Beck Dumped By Prude!
Dumped by the Matchmaker!
Hollywood's Sexiest—Unmatched!
Her first few days home had been spent locked inside her house once more due to the pain of ending things with Oliver and the photos taken of their fight in the Jeep splashed across every tabloid and celebrity talk show with a play-by-play from the valet employee who'd been close enough to overhear their argument. The valet reported Marsali had ended things over Oliver's potential role and she'd been dubbed a drama queen—until the role Oliver was up for was revealed and fans of her book and moral standing came out in droves to support her decision to distance herself.
Marsali stared at the headlines on her phone and wanted to crawl back in bed, pull the covers over her head, and skip the next several months as badly as the last few days.
As though conjured by her desire to stay hidden, her phone dinged, and she opened a blurry, sleep-deprived eye.
Who's the goon? Mac texted, followed by, Let me in. Now!
Marsali groaned and pressed her pillow to her face briefly before tossing it aside and swinging her legs to the floor. The room spun a bit due to her lack of food and prone position, so she waited several seconds before standing and stumbling her way toward her front door. She made sure to stay hidden from the reporters outside and flipped the lock. "It's okay, Denz. He's my brother."
"I want a key before I leave," Mac stated as he entered. "And full access beyond whoever that is at the door."
"Denz is security."
"Why?"
"Apparently Oliver's fan club really doesn't like me."
"You're getting threats?"
She shrugged. "Just a couple because they heard I was trying to deny them the privilege of seeing Oliver naked."
Her brother took a hard look at her, his expression darkening to an even fiercer glower.
"When was the last time you showered?"
She glowered right back and shuffled her way toward the kitchen. She needed coffee. Stat. "What are you doing here?" she said, her voice croaking from lack of use and way too many self-pitying tears.
"Seriously?"
She rolled her eyes and regretted the pain it caused.
"Have you talked to Mom or Dad today?"
"It's early."
"Marse, it's one thirty in the afternoon."
"Oh." A glance at the clock on her stove proved his words true. How had that happened? "Well, you can tell them I'm fine."
"Might help if you looked it," Mac countered. "Move. I'll do it. You're making a mess."
Mac took over the coffee prep, and Marsali moved to the living room to curl up in the corner of the couch.
"I gave you three days because I knew you were jet-lagged but enough is enough. Start talking. Was that the plan?" Mac asked over his shoulder. "You and O both being raked over the coals by the tabloids because of a role? And why didn't you tell me this was happening when you picked up Ginger the night you got back? Since when do you keep important stuff from me?"
Something inside of her broke, and the faucet she thought she'd emptied into her pillow turned on again with a gush she couldn't control.
Mac turned to face her from the kitchen, a horrified expression crossing his face.
"Marse?"
"Ginger's leaving, too! They found a home for her."
"If you want her, why don't you just say you've decided to keep her?"
"Because she has to stay here alone so much. I'm a bad pet parent. She needs people and I've been in such a mood I told them to go ahead and place her if they have someone. They said it would be a few more days."
"You're not a bad anything. And she had you. Dogs are content with what they know, and you gave her a home, food, and love. What more could she want?"
"Now you tell me? It's too late!"
Mac inhaled and stared at her, hands on his hips.
"Maybe they'll change their minds. If not, you might bond with the next foster."
"I don't want another dog. Or a man," she muttered. "I mean, is it so bad that I wanted Ollie to keep his clothes on? Who wants their boyfriend getting naked for the world to see and doing it on-screen with some actress when we’ve only messed around to sec—" Marsali broke off, horrified at what she'd been about to share with her brother.
"Why would you do anything with Oliver when all of that was just pretend?"
Busted. Marsali squeezed her eyes shut and blamed her lack of caffeine and brain-empowering sleep for the mess she'd just made worse.
"I knew it. I knew he wouldn't— You wait until I get my hands on that—"
"Mac, no! It's not Ollie's fault."
"Of course it is!"
"No, it isn't. You know how I felt about him. How I've always felt. The stage kisses were never just… staged. Not for me." She shoved her fingers through her tangled hair and pushed it back from her face, wondering if it was possible to die of a combination of embarrassment, humiliation, and a broken heart. "And before you say anything else, I started all of this, remember? So blame me, not him."
"I knew you wouldn't be able to handle this, but I thought maybe, just maybe, you would see how different the two of you are now that he's become one of them. I thought it would help you keep your head on straight."
The rich smell of coffee filled the air around her, and she tried to inhale deeper, but her tear-sodden sinuses wouldn't allow it. "I know. It should've. But… I love him."
Silence followed her words but she didn't try to take them back.
"I know. You have for years."
She blinked and lifted her watery gaze to see Mac crossing the floor toward her. He sat on the edge of the coffee table and stared at her. "You knew?"
"Marse, why do you think I was so against this crazy idea? I've known since the first time you saw him. You looked like… I don't know, but you were wide-eyed and… That picture of you two at Mom and Dad's anniversary party held the same look you've had all these years when you're around him. Every man wants a woman to look at him the way you look at Oliver. And if he's stupid enough to give you up, that's on him."
She sniffled, the tears clearing as resignation settled deep. "Oh, Mac. What am I going to do? People hate me. Half of my client list disappeared virtually overnight since the news hit, and I'm just waiting for my editor to call and say everything is off, even though this is the type of thing my book idea covered, that of working through difficulties. Ironic, isn't it? Since we couldn't work through this?"
"Would you be okay with him acting?"
"It's who he is. Something he enjoys. I understand he'll have roles that are more… visual than others, but the series they want him to do? I'm not okay with that."
"Yeah, well, you shouldn't be. I took a look at those books and thought my brain would melt. But it'll be okay. You'll see. And I want to read those threats you've received."
She wrinkled her nose and hugged the pillow she held closer. "Denz can handle it. And they mostly yell at me for trying to hold Oliver back and ruin his career. The bodyguard is just a precaution."
"Well, I'm glad Oliver is taking them seriously and sent the guy. I guess I have to give him credit for that."
That was something, wasn't it? That Oliver had sent De
nz to her? She'd rather they’d not fought at all but… "I've had some support, too. People have started taking sides on social media and backing me, so it's not all bad."
"That's good. See? Look, just give it time for the dust to clear. Things will be back to normal soon."
"No, it won't. I've ruined everything. Oliver and me. You and Oliver. Nothing will ever be the same. I'm sorry, Mac."
Her brother reached out and tugged her close to hug.
"Me, too, kid. Me, too. When’s Eliza coming over?”
“Why? So you can pawn the tears off on her?”
“Yup.”
Marsali punched Mac for the comment and hugged him tighter.
NEARLY A WEEK after Marsali had returned to Carolina Cove, she knocked on Paul's door. The elderly man opened the main door and she smiled at him through the glass separating them. "I heard you wanted a lasagna."
Paul grinned as he pushed the storm door open and invited her inside.
"Where's your pup?"
Marsali felt tears well up and quickly blinked them away. "Home. She, um, is going to be placed in a home later today. The rescue people are coming to get her today."
"Ah, too bad. I thought maybe you'd keep her."
"I thought about it, but the company called right after I got home from California and… How have you been?"
"Better than you, I'll bet."
She made a face at his words, wondering if anyone on the face of the earth didn't know about her breakup with Oliver. "I'm fine, Paul." She held up the lasagna she still carried. "I just wanted to drop this off."
"Come into the kitchen," Paul said. "Stay a while and help me dig into that."
"Oh, I should get back to Ginger."
"Surely you can spare five minutes for a cup of coffee?"
The man looked so lonely Marsali didn't have the heart to turn him down. "Okay. Sure."
She followed Paul to the kitchen and sat at the table while he went to work on getting plates and utensils and the coffee he kept brewed all day.
"So you and that young man were really a thing, eh?"
"We… were," she said, still getting used to the idea of them not being a thing despite the days that had passed since her return. She hadn't heard from Oliver, which was disappointing, but what did she expect? The important thing was her client list had stopped falling and had swung up again, and the editor said the first three chapters she'd submitted were good and they still wanted to go to contract.
Cupid to the Rescue: A Tail-Wagging Valentine's Day Anthology Page 57
