by Lizzie Shane
“And now you’re working on a new project with the great Dame Agatha herself—tell me, how is the old bat as a director?”
Ginny laughed. “Brilliant. She knows this industry better than anyone and I’m lucky to be able to work with her.”
“Is it strange? Working for someone you publicly insulted?”
“Honestly? It’s sort of refreshing. Sometimes you want to call your director names behind their back, but this time I’ve already said all the horrible things I might want to say, so we got that part out of the way.” She grinned as the audience chuckled, then added, “In all seriousness, Dame Agatha has been incredibly gracious and she’s taught me so much—both about the business and about life.”
It sounded like a Hollywood platitude, but it was nothing but the truth—and a truth that made her want to pinch herself every day. These last few months, she’d started learning how not just to be the kind of actress she wanted to be, but the kind of person as well. Learning who to trust and how to keep the people who would help her stay grounded close. She was tempted to glance behind the camera on her left—where the producers had told Jude he could stand, out of the shot, but she kept her focus on the host as she went on.
“If this last year has taught me anything, it’s that sometimes mistakes like the one I made can be good for you. My foot-in-mouth disease moment helped me grow. It was horrifying when I realized everyone in the world had heard me having a childish tantrum, but it made me so much more aware of who I was in that moment and who I want to be in every moment of my future. I like to think I’m a better person now, because of the mistake I made. And I’m lucky that this experience actually brought me closer to Dame Agatha. She’s become a true mentor to me—which is more than I ever could have hoped for.”
A mentor who had advised her to own her mistakes with brutal honesty on this publicity tour rather than try to pretend The Tape had never happened. Her former agent, when he came crawling back, had advised her to refuse to talk about her past and let the story die. Ginny had new representation now—and a second chance at success.
Turned out, America loved a reformed sinner.
“So the moral of the story is, insult everyone you admire and they’ll give you leading roles in their next movies,” the host quipped.
Ginny laughed. “Exactly. That’s exactly the message I was hoping you’d take away from my story.”
As the audience laughed, the host glanced down at his cue card and she mentally braced for the pivot question. “I understand your rollercoaster year will also include wedding bells,” he went on. “Is it true you’re engaged to the gossip columnist who originally posted the tape?”
This time Ginny let her gaze stray to where Jude waited behind the cameras—looking as Tall, Dark, and British as ever—and her lips curved with a smile, just for him.
She’d never known it was possible to click with someone the way she did with him. He was the first person she wanted to tell about everything that happened during her day, the one person she couldn’t seem to wait to get back to.
Being back in Hollywood was different this time because she had him as her rock, steadying her, and making her feel that even when they were apart, going about the business of their lives, she never had to feel alone. Jude always had her back. He gave her the courage to be the best version of herself even when things got hard, and she kept showing him the bright side, even when he wanted to slide into doubt.
The ring on her finger was the most natural extension of that she could imagine. She twirled it as she answered. “He’s a screenwriter now, but it is true. And if you told me back then that I would marry J. Harrison Law, I would have called you a filthy liar. Just goes to show you never know how you’re going to meet your soulmate.”
“And here most people are just on Tinder, not writing gossip columns about one another.”
“Right?” Ginny grinned. “We had some bumpy times at first, but now I can’t imagine life without him. We’re a team.”
And they’d turned out to be amazing in bed together. Thank God. Though they still made a point to practice as often as possible.
“I’m actually a little sad he quit Fame Game,” she teased, watching Jude out of the corner of her eye as his expression darkened into a scowl. “I don’t have the inside scoop on all the good gossip anymore.” Her fiancé shook his head in mock disgust and Ginny grinned, returning her attention to the host. “Though I still know some good stuff.”
“Oh?”
Ginny smiled mischievously for the cameras. “I know how Jack Cooper met the love of his life…”
THE END
About the Author
Born and raised in Alaska, contemporary romance author Lizzie Shane still lives in the frozen north when she isn’t indulging her travel addiction. She uses the long winter months to cook up more happily-ever-afters (and indulge her fascination with the world of reality television). A Golden Heart winner and three-time finalist for Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA® Award, Lizzie also writes paranormal romance under the pen name Vivi Andrews.
Learn more about Lizzie and her books at her website or sign up now to for her newsletter so you don’t miss any of her release announcements and exclusive sneak peeks.
Other Books by Lizzie Shane:
Reality Romance
Marrying Mister Perfect (RR#1)
Romancing Miss Right (RR#2)
Falling for Mister Wrong (RR#3)
Planning on Prince Charming (RR#4)
Home for Christmas (A Reality Romance Holiday Novella)
Courting Trouble (RR#5)
The Bouquet Catchers
Always a Bridesmaid
Little White Lies
Dirty Little Secrets
All He Wants for Christmas – November 2017
The Decoy Bride – Coming in 2018
Finding Chris Evans
The Hollywood Edition
Forgetting Jack Cooper:
The Big Idea Edition
by Elizabeth Bemis
“Hey, Mom. Ralph said you were looking for me?”
The cool blonde behind the granite desk glanced up, assessing me with her equally cool eyes, every hair perfectly in place. Her berry colored lipstick looked as if it had been just applied by a professional makeup artist, as did the rest of her cosmetics. Heather Miller’s mascara would never dare clump. And of course, there wasn’t a single sign of her most recent, extremely expensive “procedure” with the esteemed Dr. Stanley Greenup, plastic surgeon to the stars. Which would make that procedure a success, since one shouldn’t ever be able to tell that a woman has had “work” done.
She sighed when she saw me. There was no amount of work that could fix what I had going on, which suited me just fine.
I bumped my glasses up my nose, then tucked a lock of my curly hair behind my ear. Never mind that it sproinged back after a hot second. That tuck counted as an official attempt at grooming, as far as I was concerned.
My mother’s gaze rested on the offending curl for a long moment, then returned to the rest of my ensemble. “What are you wearing?” she asked.
I glanced down, frowning. Ok. I’ll admit the skirt wasn’t flattering. No one was going to take me for having the figure of a super-model, but I was perfectly within an acceptable weight, even by Hollywood standards. Still, the ruffling at the top of the black skirt, which looked insanely cute on the plastic mannequin sporting this very look when I walked into Macy’s last week, left me looking a little… chubby. I was probably too short-waisted for the blouse, or maybe I’d bought both items a size too big. I wasn’t really into form fitting clothes.
“Ruth. Really.”
“We can’t all be former Hollywood sex symbols,” I replied, more unkindly than I meant to.
It was a low blow. She hated the reminder most people still saw her as a blonde bubble-head, her signature acting role having been that of a vampy sexpot in a night-time soap opera during the eighties. Since then, she’d worked har
d to become an Academy Award winning producer and studio owner and to leave her former persona behind. Unfortunately for her, the public’s memory was surprisingly long. Also, unfortunately for her, twenty-seven years of disappointing her tended to make me pricklier than I should let it.
Remorse slid through me, as usual a second too late for me to take the higher road. Then Mom cleared her throat.
“I just wanted to make sure you were ready for the meeting with Jack Cooper,” she said, her voice taking on a tone I’d learned to loathe. “This is an important film. We need to make sure we get as much publicity for this movie in advance as we can.”
So much for remorse. I left the high road in my rearview mirror and stomped on the gas.
Mom was always doing this to me. She’d been a typical stage mom during my childhood, trotting me through acting lessons, singing lessons, guitar and piano lessons, ballet, tap and contemporary dance. I think she believed that if she just cultivated the right talent, I’d become a natural performer. She finally gave up when, at age eleven, I sat down in the middle of the stage during a recital and refused to dance. Or, for that matter, do anything other than cry.
Unfortunately, while I won the battle of not becoming Heather Miller two-point-oh, from that point on, Mom kind of looked on me with disappointment and maybe a little bit of pity, the same way she was doing right now. A sudden but familiar worry flashed: that the only reason I had this job was that she didn’t think I could make it in the real world without it.
Which was crazy. I was good at my job. I wasn’t confident about a lot in my life, but I was an excellent Director of Public Relations for the studio.
“Don’t worry,” I said, my words now more professionally clipped than a prize-winning poodle. “I’m completely aware of the importance of this film. When you promoted me last year, I really thought maybe you’d finally started to see that I knew what I was doing.”
“Ruthie,” she said, reaching a long elegant hand toward me.
This was how it always went. The cut and then the Band-Aid, but it wasn’t enough anymore—it hadn’t been enough for a while. I should leave the studio and go do something else and yet…I didn’t. I kept thinking that maybe after the next movie Mom would suddenly acknowledge my worth. To the studio, and to her. I sighed. Maybe this would be the project where I’d either find her approval, or where I’d just grow a backbone and be done with it.
I shrugged. “We’re meeting Jack Cooper in the big conference room in thirty minutes. See you there.”
I turned on my heel, then nearly tripped over my own feet, ruining my exit. I didn’t turn around to see if she’d noticed.
I already know she had.
She always noticed when I screwed up.
I marched toward the conference room, taking a moment to duck into my office for my laptop and found that Ralph Blitstein, mom’s third ex-husband, business partner, and the closest thing I’d ever had to a father, had made himself at home behind my desk.
“You ready for this, kiddo?”
On the tail end of the conversation with Mom, Ralph calling me “kiddo” was a serious tactical error. Not that I would have expected him to call me “Miss Miller,” even in front of a bigwig, but “Ruth” would have been a better choice.
“I’ve got this,” I said between gritted teeth.
His eyes showed his momentary surprise at my tone, and honestly, I wanted to kick myself. Ralph also knew what it was like to be at the receiving end of Mom’s disappointment. It wasn’t his fault that I was feeling like a complete screw up.
Case in point—this entire mess of a publicity tour that I had no idea what to do about. Because from everything I’d learned about Jack Cooper, he was the most miscast human being in film history for a movie about screwing up. The guy was practically my polar opposite. He never made mistakes, he never showed up with two different colored shoes, he’d never drink his cereal straight from the bowl…and he probably never made his former step-dad crinkle his forehead at him in dismay for a snippy comment. Ralph had a nice forehead. It shouldn’t crinkle like that.
“Sorry, Ralph. It’s been a long day already.”
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. You’ve got a lot on your plate, but I know you’ll make it happen. You’re fantastic that way.”
The knot in my stomach eased. See, asking for forgiveness wasn’t that hard…
Annnnd Boom. I had my idea.
“So, Forgive Me is a movie about making amends,” I said, speaking fast as plans formed in my head. “The lead character, Bobby, is an alcoholic working his twelve steps and trying to get his brother, sister, parents, estranged wife and young daughter to forgive him.”
Ralph nodded. Obviously, he knew this, but he also recognized that this was a test run of my presentation.
“Jack Cooper, who’s playing Bobby, is an up and coming actor who seems to have lived a fairly charmed life. To the best of my knowledge, he doesn’t have any bad habits. He doesn’t smoke. Rarely drinks. No one reports that he’s been difficult to work with. He’s never lost his temper on set… and he’s worked on a lot of random projects with some of the most difficult actors and actresses in Hollywood, and there’ve never been any rumors of on-set friction. I’ve scoured the darkest corners of the Internet to find any dirt on him, and there’s shockingly little. Not even TMZ has found anything more interesting than a rumor of a minor B&E in high school… and his rumored co-conspirator took full responsibility for it. There have been a couple of romances that faded early, but his exes all pretty much state that he was a good time fellow, and they weren’t broken hearted when it ended. And that’s all great, but it’s also seriously boring. Everyone in the world loves a redemption story, but we gotta show people that here’s a guy who knows what it means to be redeemed.”
“So what do you have in mind?” Ralph asked, leaning forward.
“What if, in order to get into the role, he finds the people that he’s wronged in life and makes amends?”
“Good, that’s good—but how do you know he’s wronged people?”
“Ralph. He’s in his late twenties. And he’s a Hollywood soon-to-be star. No way could he have made it this far, in this business, without wronging someone. Probably a lot of someones, especially when he was younger and didn’t know how to go about it all that well.”
“Fair.” Ralph stroked his chin for a moment. “So, he goes out and redeems himself. How does this give the film publicity?”
“We record the whole thing. Make it a press event.”
“An apology tour…” He nodded as he thought it over. “That could work.”
“Exactly.” I bit my lip. “Think he’ll go for it?”
The voice behind me was every bit as silky smooth as the silver screen portrayed it. “Only if you are the one coordinating it,” Jack Cooper said as I spun around.
I literally lost my breath for a second. Jack Cooper, in addition to being the anti-me from a life choices standpoint, he was also one of the most beautiful, put-together men I’d ever seen up close and personal. And I’d worked in Hollywood for the last seven years. The only thing asymmetrical about him was his grin, which was just a tiny bit lopsided. He even had equally-deep, equally located dimples in either cheek. He also had bright blue eyes and brown hair that had enough of a tendency to curl that it made a girl want to run her fingers through it.
I felt a pure rush of something that was probably hormonal streak through my entire body. It affected my heart rate, breathing rate, blood pressure and made me tingle in places that hadn’t tingled in quite a while. I was pretty sure it’d amped my credit rating while it was at it.
Holy Moly.
That was it. I had to pull this off. I didn’t want to fall flat on my face in front of one the hottest men in Hollywood.
I shook my head. No! This job was about business. About proving my worth. To my mother and to myself. This was not about Jack Cooper, except insofar as he was the object of this publicity campaign. Jack Cooper, th
e movie star, needed to know who was boss here. Jack Cooper, the client, needed to do exactly what I told him.
But most importantly of all, Jack Cooper, the Hollywood Hunk of the Moment, needed to stay as far away from me as possible, because otherwise Jack Cooper, the man, might realize it had taken all of three-point-five seconds for him to steal my heart.
Forgetting Jack Cooper…
Jack Cooper, current Hollywood It man, has a blockbuster new movie in the works all about redemption—only he’s never had to apologize for anything in his life, and he knows how lucky that makes him.
To prepare for the role and score some publicity points along the way, Jack undertakes a round-the-country tour to make amends to those whose lives he’s inadvertently harmed. Only what Jack doesn’t realize is that fate is taking a ride-a-long on his redemption tour, and each of his long-overdue apologies will lead to unexpected romance…
See yourself how hard it is to try Forgetting Jack Cooper--five different times! The Forgetting Jack Cooper series features New York Times and USA Today Bestselling authors Erin McCarthy and Jennifer Bernard, and award-winning authors Lizzie Shane, Elizabeth Bemis and Jennifer Chance.
Forgetting Jack Cooper:
The Big Idea Edition
(A FREE PREQUEL)
by Elizabeth Bemis
Even as the successful, hardworking PR director for a major Los Angeles studio, Ruth Miller has never felt like more of a fraud. Browbeaten by her stage-managing mother, overworked and pathologically under-glammed, Ruth must deliver a knockout concept to publicize the upcoming movie of Hollywood It-Boy Jack Cooper…and she only has twenty minutes to do it. What happens next launches Ruth and Jack on a whirlwind tour through Jack’s less than sterling past…but could it open the door to Ruth’s future as well?
Buy It | Read an Excerpt
Forgetting Jack Cooper:
The Stuntman Edition
