Sparks Like Ours

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Sparks Like Ours Page 5

by Melissa Brayden

Gia swallowed the urge to downplay and nodded instead. “Huge.”

  “And in preparation for this campaign, have you figured out your Elle strategy? You probably want to if you’ll be working together a lot. I can’t even imagine how that’s going to play out. You two working side by side.”

  Another valid point. “I was planning to just be professional and not let her get to me. Probably not the best plan, though, because she always seems to.”

  “We could do better. Maybe we need a poster board.” Hadley looked skyward. “Not to get off topic, but it’s intriguing what Iz said a couple weeks back, isn’t it?”

  “That Ms. Pac-Man should be allowed to have boobs? The only problem with that is where would they go?”

  Hadley held her eyes closed for several seconds. “No. Gia. Strangely, not that.”

  “Give me a hint.”

  “I meant the part where she said you and Elle had sparks. Apparently, this corn chip executive thought so, too. Interesting series of events is all.”

  Gia felt her defenses engage. “Please tell me you’re not going there. Not everything is hearts and butterflies, Had, just because you want it to be.”

  “First of all, ouch. And second of all, I’m not going there,” Hadley said quickly. “I know you hate Elle and how always put together she is. But maybe that’s part of it. That tension.”

  “I see through her. That’s all. I’m not her number one fan. That part is true, but it certainly doesn’t mean we have sparks. The whole idea is stupid. Isabel’s just projecting her glamorous, fictional world onto my life, and the fit’s not there. It’s lame.”

  “Understood,” Hadley said, with an affirmative nod. “Won’t mention the sparks again. Will mention nachos, though.” Her eyes took on longing. “Let’s get some on the boardwalk. Please, with sour cream on top? My day smacked me on the back of the head rudely. Cheese will help me love everyone again.”

  Now, nachos on Venice Beach was an offer Gia couldn’t pass up, so she softened, letting go of the bristles from the conversation with a sigh. “You just said the magic words.”

  Hadley broke into a grin. “This way, superstar. It’s time to celebrate your chip deal in style.”

  Gia nodded. “With more chips.”

  “Duh.”

  Chapter Four

  Elle tunneled a hand through her untamed hair as she studied the nondescript building through the windshield of her car. Her call time for the photo shoot was not for another ten minutes, but she was stringent about leaving a cushion in case traffic was unruly. It hadn’t been, and as was often the case, she arrived at her destination early. She rolled the window down on her Beetle and let the afternoon breeze drift through the car.

  She had a third date with Christopher scheduled for that night. The shoot for Trainers would likely go through the afternoon, leaving her a small window to get home and changed before he’d pick her up. She’d need to do a few stretches first, as her morning workout left her muscles beaten and sore. She grinned, loving it when her muscles pulled. A sign of her hard work.

  Things with Christopher had remained pleasant enough. He was witty, and kind, and knew how to dress himself, which was sheer bonus. They’d taken to texting in between dates, and he was a solid conversationalist. So why wasn’t she more excited about tonight? She was seriously starting to wonder about herself and her ability to stay interested in a guy for long.

  After checking the clock, she headed inside and found hair and makeup ready to doll her to pieces for the shoot. She took a seat in the folding chair as they went to work. Loud rock music blared from nearby and her gaze settled on Gia, who stood in front of a green screen several yards away, posing for the photographer in a black and blue two-piece that made her look badass and feminine at the same time. She wasn’t sure who had chosen the suit, but it was a good call. Elle had almost missed the bag of chips in her hand as she stared at the tangle of dark hair pooling at her shoulders—that was how great she looked. Lights and reflectors framed the space around Gia, and a myriad of assistants dashed here and there adjusting props, lighting, and Gia’s hair. As her hair was styled, Elle strained to hear the conversation above the volume of the music.

  “Hit me with a competitive gaze,” the photographer called to Gia, who adjusted her grin into a hint of a glare. It wasn’t close to the look she got on her face in the heat of real competition. The one that said she’d come to win. Elle knew that look all too well. Thinking about it now, visualizing it, got her worked up, and remembering the finals loss in her not-so-distant past only bolstered the effect. Nope. She wasn’t a fan of that competitive gaze at all, and rolled her shoulders to rid herself of the strong physical reaction.

  Half an hour later, with her hair shiny and her makeup in place, she joined Gia under the lights. They would do several different looks together before Gia would head out and Elle would shoot her solo shots. The schedule was designed to make maximum use of their time, which she appreciated. She also knew that she had more experience at this kind of thing than Gia did and would likely finish her part of the session faster.

  “Looks like you’re having fun over here,” Elle said, standing off to the side of the shoot.

  “Oh, I don’t know about fun,” Gia said, passing her the briefest of smiles between shots. That smile was probably forced, she decided, even though it didn’t seem so. Would Gia afford her a real smile?

  She and Gia Malone had never had the best relationship, and for whatever reason that went beyond their competition in the water. Elle had gone out of her way to be nice to Gia on more occasions than she could count, only to have that friendship branch stepped on, snapped in half, and handed back to her in pieces. Gia didn’t like Elle, and after all was said and done, she wasn’t especially fond of Gia either. She found her hyperfocused and closed off for the most part, though she did seem to have lots of friends on the tour. Didn’t mean they couldn’t have a cordial working relationship. Elle planned to make sure that happened.

  “Oh, come on. It’s not so bad.”

  “For you, maybe,” Gia said. “Mugging isn’t my thing. I just look like an asshole.”

  “Then don’t think of it that way.”

  While she could see that Gia was nervous and outside of her comfort zone, she hid it well. Plus, her looks would be killer in print. She had these large brown eyes that just didn’t quit, thick dark hair, and a sculpted body people killed for, that Elle would kill for. The camera was going to love her, which was great news for the success of the campaign.

  “So, what’s your suggestions?” Gia asked.

  The photographer stepped away from his camera. “That’s good, Gia. Let’s take five and then we can do the two-shot with Elle.”

  “Cool. Thanks, Jake.”

  “Elle, good to see you,” he said, dashing over and kissing her cheek.

  She beamed. “Always a good day when I get to work with you, Jake.” They’d done a handful of shoots together in the past, and he was easily one of her favorite LA photographers.

  Elle walked all the way onto set, now that it wasn’t in use, refocusing on her conversation with Gia. It wasn’t like she had much else to do. “It’s all in how you approach the day.”

  Gia eyed her skeptically but seemed intrigued, as if she could use a lifeline, even if it did come from Elle. “What does that mean?”

  “You just tell yourself that you own the room.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, but I don’t.”

  “No one does. But that projected confidence helps you get through it.”

  “That’s what you do?”

  “Always.”

  Gia smiled and glanced away. “Well, that explains a lot.”

  Elle laughed, and accepted the barb. “There’s nothing wrong with playing to the crowd. I’m not sure why you look down on it.”

  Gia took only a moment to answer. She smelled like fresh cotton. “I would just rather focus on the surfing.”

  “Yet here you stand.”

  Gia of
fered a nod in surrender. Elle had her there and knew it. “Are we gonna get through this together?” Gia asked, her guard coming down. Thank God for that, because going toe-to-toe every time they worked together was going to get old. She hated conflict and would go out of her way to avoid it.

  “I think we’ll be fine.”

  “Good,” Gia said. “Me, too.”

  Jake clapped behind them and joined them on set. “Okay, we need some rivalry shots for the chip folks to choose from. The slogan for phase one of the campaign is apparently ‘There’s only room for one at the top.’ I don’t know if you’ve met the ad exec on the project, but—”

  “Mallory Spencer,” a striking brunette said, joining the conversation. She wore a tailored business suit, and came with a kind smile. “Pleasure to meet you both. I’m an admirer of your work.” They said their hellos and Mallory detailed the goals for the campaign. “So essentially, phase one is all about the competition, the rivalry between the two of you. Hard-core, intense, the battle for the number one spot. Theo’s got it all worked out. We’re simply implementing his vision.”

  Elle chuckled quietly, but Gia caught it and raised a questioning eyebrow.

  “What?” Elle said in response. “I just don’t really feel the title’s up for grabs.”

  Gia held her gaze. “You won’t. Until the moment I take it from you.”

  The banter was lighthearted but laced with an undercurrent of truth that Mallory clearly picked up on. She pointed at them. “Use that in that shoot. It’s golden.”

  “Shouldn’t be hard,” Elle said with a grin.

  “Let’s do it, Britton.”

  She was surprised Gia didn’t shoulder check her as they turned to position themselves on set according to Jake’s instructions. For the first round of shots, they faced each other as if advertising a Saturday night fight. What that meant was that they were forced to stand face-to-face in challenge. She attempted the glare Mallory had asked for, but it was hard to sustain and she felt the edges of her mouth turn up. “I’m sorry,” she called out and readjusted, giving her arms a shake. “You’re a badass,” she told herself out loud. “Look at what a badass you are.”

  Gia laughed. “How am I supposed to keep a straight face with you saying stuff like that?”

  Elle looked at her innocently. “That part’s on you.”

  “Are you serious right now?”

  “As a badass.”

  Gia shook her head, they readjusted and went at it again. Hard-core stares. Serious attitude. It worked for a few clicks, until Elle dissolved into giggles. Embarrassed, and unable to stop, she held up a hand. “My fault entirely. This is just not me. I’m usually…happy. It just comes more naturally.”

  “Not today you’re not,” Mallory said. “Because this woman is about to take what’s yours. Got it? Rip it the hell away from you.”

  Gia raised another eyebrow in appreciation.

  What was with all the eyebrow raising and how was she doing it so effectively? Elle harnessed the outrage, planted her feet, and faced Gia, competitive stare firmly in place. The camera clicked, clicked, clicked as Jake moved around them, offering encouragement. He was talking, but she wasn’t really listening. Her focus was on Gia, because when told to stare at another person for an extended amount of time, you start to notice things about them. First of all, Gia’s skin was flawless and soft-looking. It almost made Elle want to reach out and touch her cheek briefly just to find out how soft. Because of their proximity, she could feel the heat coming from Gia’s body. She took a breath. And then there were her lips—

  “Wow. Perfect. Let’s adjust for look two,” Mallory said, shattering Elle’s concentration and pulling her back into the here and now. She blinked hard and forced herself to focus on Mallory. This woman seemed to know exactly what she wanted and had a warm, yet knowledgeable, way of expressing herself. Elle appreciated her moving them along. After all, she had a date to get to. “Let me just adjust this one strand of hair,” Mallory said to Elle, moving the strand off her forehead. “And we’re a go. Gorgeous.”

  The rest of the shoot went surprisingly well. Gia found her stride, and Elle’s individual shoot was a piece of cake. She thanked the hair and makeup staff, Jake, and of course Mallory, who would apparently help oversee the campaign from New York as they moved forward. Feeling accomplished, if not a little tired, she headed to the parking lot where the sun was setting and the temperatures dropping. She expected to hop in her car, put the top down, and jam out to some tunes. What she didn’t expect was to find Gia sitting on the curb. Elle passed her a questioning glance.

  “Won’t start,” Gia said blandly, and gestured to her black Jeep Wrangler. Her shoulders drooped and her eyebrows were drawn.

  “Do you want me to take a look?” Elle asked, approaching. She was quick when it came to troubleshooting cars, something her father had made sure she and her two brothers were adept at.

  “You know about cars?” Gia asked. She stood and pushed her hands into the back pockets of her cutoff shorts.

  “Not everything. But enough to help diagnose.”

  Gia hesitated, and Elle was confident it was hard for her to ask for help.

  “Do you mind?”

  “No. That would be…great. Thanks.”

  It took her only a few moments to ascertain that the engine on the Jeep would crank but not start, narrowing down the problem. “When was the last time you had your battery replaced?”

  “Maybe three months ago?”

  “Then I’m going to guess this is an ignition issue. Unless, of course, you’re out of gas.”

  Gia balked. “I’m not out of gas. I’m not a total dumbass.”

  Elle placed her hands on her hips. “No, not totally.”

  The shot pulled a grin from Gia, who had an amazing smile. A shame she didn’t employ it more frequently.

  “Unfortunately, you’re probably going to have to have it towed to the shop.”

  Gia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as Elle exited the driver’s side of the Jeep. “I was afraid of that. Thanks for the diagnosis. I’ll call it in and see if I can get a friend to pick me up.”

  “Cool. Yeah, okay.” Elle wasn’t sure what to do in this moment. Should she just walk away and leave Gia there on the curb, knowing a friend would come along eventually? Nope. Not her style. Even where Gia was concerned. “I can drop you.”

  “I live in Venice.”

  Right. There was that little haul to consider. “It’s cool. I honestly don’t mind.”

  “Are you sure? I mean, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Hop in, Malone. I hope you like Bieber.”

  Gia paused. “That’s a joke, right?”

  Elle stared at her. “I realize you think I’m a vapid Barbie Doll, but give me some credit.”

  “No, not totally vapid.”

  Elle laughed. “I see what you did there. Maybe there’s hope for you after all.”

  “Oh, well, if Elle Britton thinks so, then I’m golden.”

  “Shut up and get in the car.”

  They drove in silence for a while, listening to the classic rock station. Gia stared out the window. Elle focused on the road. They’d never really been left together for too long on their own. Now what? Elle wasn’t the type to sit in silence for extended periods, especially when it felt awkward. In fact, she couldn’t stand it. Her social compass was screaming at her. Minutes passed. Still no one said anything. She felt like she might explode, and then did.

  “I have a date tonight.”

  Gia turned to her. “Oh yeah?”

  “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. You hate me,” Elle said, shaking her head at the personal direction of her comment. Why couldn’t she have said something about surfing or groceries or the weather, for God’s sake? Her mouth had a mind of its own.

  “I don’t hate you.”

  “You do, too. In fact, you’ve gone well out of your way for years now to be sure I know it.” She cringed again. Why was she
making their car ride a therapy session? She had excellent people skills. Why were they failing her where Gia was concerned?

  Gia seemed to soften. “For the record, we’re just different people. You’re perky and peppy and love the media. I just want to surf and leave it at that.”

  “So you’re saying we don’t speak the same language?”

  Gia shrugged. “I guess that’s probably a big part of it.”

  A long silence. “It’s not a crime to be upbeat.”

  “I guess not.” Gia seemed to consider the comment further. “But you can’t tell me you’re feeling ‘on’ all the time. Some of that is manufactured, right? It has to be. The smiles, the toss of your hair, the endless hugs to everyone you see.”

  “Okay,” Elle said, nodding. “So now we’re getting somewhere. You think I’m fake.”

  “I didn’t use that word.”

  “But you wanted to.”

  “Maybe a little.”

  “Well, don’t hold back.” They were really going at each other now, and it felt quite satisfying.

  Gia sighed, decelerating their exchange. “Look, it’s likely we’re going to be tossed together a lot because of this campaign, so maybe we should find a way to—”

  “Get along.”

  “Not kill each other,” Gia said simultaneously.

  They smiled at their different approaches, a common ground moment.

  “Deal,” Elle said finally.

  Gia nodded. Another silent stretch hit. In a plot twist she was not expecting, Gia saved them this time. “Who’s the guy?”

  Elle passed her a glance as she exited for Venice. “What guy?”

  “Your date. You mentioned having one tonight.”

  “Oh, right!” Elle smiled. “His name is Christopher. We’ve gone out twice before. I like him. I think.”

  “Does he surf?”

  “He does not. He’s in finance.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gia wince. “But not boring finance. Exciting stuff. He’s smart.”

  “And hot?”

  “He’s good looking, yes.”

  “The full package, then.” Gia pointed. “I’m up here on the right.”

 

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