Lip Action (Kiss Talent Agency Book 1)

by Virna DePaul

  “You had me followed? Investigated?” I repeat. Even the damn paparazzi hasn’t been able to find out the truth of how I grew up.

  She nods. “My daughter has always been drawn to men that aren’t good for her, and she’s suffered as a result of that. I don’t want her to be hurt again. She is obviously star struck by you and your considerable good looks, but she can’t make her own decisions to save her life. So I am making this one for her, and I think it will save her a lot of heartache. Leave her alone.”

  She’s comparing me to him. To Brian Hall, the man who drove drunk and left Marissa after he’d wrecked his car. The man who’d left her hurt and ran to cover his own ass. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I grit out, though my resolve is cracking. A small voice in my head keeps repeating that she knows exactly what she’s talking about, and it’s growing louder each time.

  “Oh, I do. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. You are a lowly virus, and you must be extinguished and not permitted to infiltrate my family. Do you understand?”

  I’m clenching my fists so hard that my nails are digging into my palms. “What are you going to do?”

  She smiles again, a cat that’s caught its canary. “Nothing. If you leave her alone, I won’t do a thing. But if you even send her a text, I’ll find out. And then I’ll make sure your career is finished. My husband knows Noble and Spires. In fact, Raul and Mr. Noble attended the same school. I understand they’re considering you for the lead in an upcoming movie. But if you contact my daughter, I’ll pull strings. You’ll never get that role and you’ll never work in Hollywood again. Do you understand?”

  I stare at her, my blood boiling in my veins. Janelle had said it would come to this, and I hate to think she was right. I want to scream at this woman. I can’t just not see Marissa, I realize, and it’s not because of the part. Fuck the part. It’s because Marissa is part of my life. She and I…we belong together.

  Or do we?

  She looked like a diamond in my apartment, and if I don’t end up getting the part I’m so desperately seeking, who knows what my next role will be after Alien Love has run its course? Plus, if June Woodcrest makes good on her threats, I won’t be able to find any roles—and I’ll be dead broke. I wouldn’t be able to provide for her. I’d be a loser, the way I was as a young punk. Marissa belongs in the country club, not with some faker who grew up in London’s East End and then used her to further his fucking career. A B-Actor who might not ever get a chance to be anything more—and certainly could end up being everything less.

  It all comes down to this: I don’t deserve Marissa any more than Brian Hall did.

  So I swallow back all the bile in my throat and mutter, “I understand.”

  She smiles, satisfied. “Good.” When she gets up, I get up as well. But she doesn’t make a move to leave. She simply places her handkerchief back into her purse, snapping it closed with a quick movement.

  “I know I must be coming off awful, Mr. Dale. But put yourself in my shoes. Marissa is my little lost lamb of a child. She simply can’t be trusted to make a good decision, and that includes what kind of man she should commit herself to.”

  I stare her down, trying to calm my breathing. This fucking woman. She may be right about me, but if there’s one thing she’s so wrong about, it’s her daughter. Marissa is too dutiful and good to say it to her parents, but at that moment, I realize I can.

  “Listen,” I say pointedly. “I need you to know this. Marissa is capable of making good decisions, including the good sense not to get romantically involved with a person like me. We never had anything, Mrs. Woodcrest. This relationship? It was a sham.”

  She tilts her head to look at me, and sits back, almost dazed, so I continue.

  “I noticed your daughter was in a rough spot at the country club, and I needed someone to play my girlfriend so that I could be in consideration for that role in Noble and Spires’ movie. Pretending to be in a relationship together was all my idea. Your daughter never would’ve been seen with me if I hadn’t pushed her to help me.”

  Her eyes narrow.

  “So you see, there’s nothing for you to worry about. She’s quite more level-headed than you think. She has the good sense to keep away from me in any real capacity, I assure you.”

  At least, if Marissa knew who I really was, what my background is, she would. And I’m not going to give her the opportunity to know the real me. I’m going to end this, now. I need to, for Marissa’s sake. I tighten the sash on my robe. “Marissa told me about Brian Hall. Please don’t make her continue paying for a mistake she made as a teenager. Please don’t force her into anything with that prat Charles. For god’s sake, he’s a bloody awful excuse for a man, and she deserves worlds better. Her father seemed to sense it, and as her mother, you should know it, as well.”

  She blinks, obviously taken aback. I know, where does a self-absorbed asshole who used a woman to further his career get off making such demands? Obviously he doesn’t care about said woman’s happiness or he wouldn’t have used her to begin with.

  But from the way June Woodcrest nods, I almost believe that she might actually get off Marissa’s back a bit.

  That’s the least I can do for Marissa, after everything.

  But why doesn’t it feel like enough? Why does it feel like nothing I can ever do would ever be enough for Marissa?

  June Woodcrest says nothing as she leaves. I don’t escort her to the front. Instead, I close and lock my door before swearing underneath my breath, pacing the length of my trailer over and over again. All I can see is Mrs. Woodcrest’s face, like she’d finally caught me at my game and knew she had me by the balls.

  But as the anger leaves me and exhaustion replaces it, the darker thoughts come creeping in. Fuck the role. That’s not what this is about. This is about me, never being worthy enough for Marissa, never being more than a guttersnipe. This is about two pieces from different puzzles. Pieces that will never fit together.

  I think about how Janelle described me in that interview. Much of it wasn’t true, but when she’d said that Simon Dale doesn’t do relationships, I found myself agreeing. I don’t do relationships. Not long term, anyway. I grew up in a home my mom hated so much she took off, and where my dad hated me and my sister so much he’d get drunk and beat the shit out of me. I don’t know how to commit to anyone, let alone a woman. I know this about myself. It’s not pretty and I’m not proud of it, but it is what it is. That’s why I made it clear to Marissa that this arrangement could never go beyond just that: an arrangement.

  Marissa had been hurt enough by the likes of Brian Hall. I couldn’t hurt her again.

  I have to let Marissa go. I have to. She deserves better.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Simon

  The next day, I feel like shit when I see Declan just before the big meeting. I haven’t been sleeping or eating. I’m sure Marissa is wondering why I haven’t texted, but I’d promised her mother I wouldn’t. And I shouldn’t. She deserves better than me, although I know she also deserves a better break-up than my silence. Fuck. I swipe a hand over my face and realize I haven’t even shaved. This morning, I could barely get my ass out of bed to take a shower. Marissa once said I have a face for the ages, one that simply can’t look bad, and I hope she’s right, because I have a feeling this is D-Day.

  Marissa. Why can’t I stop thinking about her?

  And why the fuck does D-Day have to come now?

  “You know what an iron is?” Declan asks me, his brown eyes wide as he takes in my rumpled clothing. “For fuck’s sake man, did you sleep in a dumpster?”

  I grit my teeth. He’s right. I need to get it together. This is what I’ve been dreaming of all my life. Not some girl. The part of a lifetime. And if I get it, Marissa won’t matter. I will have everything I’ve ever wanted.

  At least, that’s my hope.

  I run my hands through my hair and wipe a little bit of sleep from my eyes, then open myself up to
Declan’s inspection. “Okay?”

  He still looks at me with a half-sneer, like I’m a leftover sandwich on a tray, then adjusts my collar and tie. “Still shitty, but it’ll do.”

  I take a deep breath. “Game on. Let’s be calm. You know Noble can smell fear, right?”

  “Sometimes I’m not sure that guy is human.”

  “I don’t care if he’s an alien from planet BORG. I need this part.” It’s all I have now.

  Declan tugs at his tie. “You don’t have to tell me that, buddy.”

  We head to the front of the office. Spires and Noble have just arrived, and we all shake hands like usual. I gaze at Noble, trying to see if I can get any read on him, but he just stares at me like usual. That man could work for the CIA and never crack, I’m sure of it. Spires is jovial and boisterous, talking about how great the ball was and how fantastic everyone looked.

  We go to our conference room. “Thank you for meeting with us this afternoon,” Noble says in his smooth, careful voice, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

  Declan gives me a look, like he thinks this will go well. My stomach twists. I’m not so sure. When I went over to smooth things over after the Janelle incident, neither of the men said anything. But I could see them both eyeing me, assessing me. Noble asked a question about how I knew Janelle, while Spires drank his champagne in silent judgment. The entire exchange had been awkward and I’d felt like I’d been asked to see the principal as I stood there.

  Now, Spires and Noble are looking at us both with calm expressions. Even Spires. His usual boisterousness is absent now, and that scares me the most.

  It must be bad news. It has to be. They’re going to say they don’t want me after all.

  “You know we have to do what’s best for our investors in this picture, to guarantee its success,” Noble begins, setting his forearms on the table. “I must tell you, we had many discussions about you, Dale. At the beginning, we were unsure.”

  “We knew you were a loose cannon and you’d never been tested on serious work before, even though we were impressed by your screen test with Dakota. You knocked that out of the park. But we still didn’t know if you were able to commit,” Spires says bluntly. “We’d insinuated as much, I know, but we can’t work with actors who aren’t serious.”

  Noble smiles. “We may have had prior bad experiences, is what my partner is saying.”

  I nod tightly. “Declan and I appreciate that you’ve considered me at all.”

  “Regardless, after the ball, Noble and I discussed this at length. Ultimately, we had to assess if putting our faith in a new face like yours would be worth the risk. You have the skills, you have the charisma. That is not up for debate. But would you be able to carry this picture as a leading man?” Spires asks.

  “Let me assure you two that I would.” I lean forward, refusing to let him give up on us yet. “I’ve made youthful missteps before, I concede. But I’m dedicated now. Know that I will give everything I have to this performance.”

  Noble nods, but Spires just studies my face. I have to restrain myself from squirming. Is he about to tell us no?

  God above, please don’t let this be the end!

  “So, here’s the deal. We’ve made our decision.” Noble looks to Spires, who nods. “We’ve decided to give you the part.”

  I gape at them. “That is—thank you. Thank you so much.”

  I look at Declan, who’s got his game face on.

  “Many congratulations to you both,” Spires says. He stands up, and we all do the same. “I’ll have my assistant send over the nitty gritty details.” He holds out his hand, which I shake vigorously. I shake Noble’s, too, and then they’re both out the door.

  At the front of the office, Declan and I stand there, staring at nothing.

  Then Declan says, “I can’t fucking believe it!”

  I burst out laughing. I can’t help it. I pull Declan into a bear hug, and we slap each other’s shoulders. We’re swearing and laughing and rummaging around in the office kitchen for a celebratory drink. We end up sharing an old bottle of champagne that’s rather flat, but we don’t care. We drink out of paper cups, toasting and laughing and celebrating.

  We get tolerably buzzed, although there’s not enough champagne left to do much damage. By the time we’ve finished it, though, I get a text from Marissa that stops me in my tracks.

  Have you heard anything yet?

  I stare at my phone. Suddenly the celebration seems pointless. I got the part, yes, but the deal I made yesterday with Mrs. Woodcrest is still hanging in my mind. And now I can’t even respond to Marissa’s text. What the fuck did I agree to that for?

  “Bad news?” Declan peeks over my shoulder.

  “No, but I have to run.”

  He makes a face. “Okay, but dinner tomorrow to celebrate?”

  I don’t care at this point. I’m nodding and saying goodbye, leaving him to celebrate however much he wants to.

  I’m still looking at my phone as I go downstairs and get in the car. When the car goes nowhere, the driver, Greg, looks back at me and asks, “Where to, boss?”

  I want to see Marissa. But I know I can’t. This thing is over between us. She’s not a part of my life anymore. I’ve gotten what I always wanted. I’m going to have this new life, now. Everything different.

  So why don’t I feel happy about that?

  I tell Greg to take me home. I don’t know where else to go.

  Once home, I call my sister Dana and tell her the good news. When she senses that I’m not as happy as I should be, I say that I’m just tired. She makes that noise—something between “uh-huh” and “yeah right”—and I know I’m in for it.

  “Is this about Marissa?”

  I sit on my couch, nursing a bottle of beer. “Why would this be about her?”

  “Don’t be daft, Simon. I saw the way you looked at her that first night in the restaurant. I’m assuming things have been going well—or should I say coming?”

  “Dana.”

  “I’m sorry, I won’t joke about it. But seriously, you never call or text me anymore so I figured you must be with her all the time.”

  I sip my beer. How do I explain to my sister that I don’t know what I’m feeling now?

  Dana huffs into the phone. “Hello? Hey, did you even tell her you got the part?”

  “No, and I won’t. We’re over.” I make my voice hard as steel.

  “What? You’re an idiot, older brother.”

  “What did you expect? It was a deal. I got the part. And now she and I are…” I swallow the bile in my throat. “Over.”

  “You are heartless. Not even telling her you got the part when she helped you get it?”

  “And as always, it’s a pleasure talking to you. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Fine. But you should really—”

  I hang up. I finish my beer and get another one from the fridge. I avoid my bedroom, since it’ll only make me think of Marissa and what we did in there. I end up falling asleep on the couch, dreaming some weird dream about Noble and Marissa falling in love and eloping.

  When I wake up, my phone is ringing. It’s Marissa. I groan and pick up my phone but don’t answer. Not even a text, was what I told Mrs. Woodcrest. Besides, what would I even say to her? I turn the phone on silent with a wince.

  I’m so sorry, I think, but I just don’t know what to do.

  I know what I want. I want her in my bed and I want her in my life. But I had to let her go, for her sake.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Marissa

  It’s Friday and I’m at lunch with my parents and Larissa, nervous as all get-out with what I’m about to tell them. And what I’m about to share has nothing to do with Simon, mostly because he’d dodged my calls and my texts since this weekend. Given his request that we keep seeing each other, I’m not sure what’s happening, but in his ensuing absence, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about him and our situation, and about what we last talked about.

&n
bsp; Past mistakes.

  His and mine.

  Simon is still haunted by his mistakes. I saw that when he’d talked about his scar. And obviously, I am still haunted by mine.

  But I don’t want to be anymore.

  I want to at least try to begin the process of getting over what happened with Brian Hall. Tackling my relationship with my mom, that isn’t something I’m ready for. So I decided to start with something else. Something far easier.

  My career.

  After all, Simon is doing his level best to make his dreams come true. Why can’t I try to do the same?

  I decided to leave my current position and starting my own marketing company. I have the skills, the experience, and with my trust fund, I have enough start-up capital to begin my own venture. I’ll start out by myself as a sole proprietor and freelancer. It’s a huge step. When I think about it, it makes me giddy.

  I gave my two-week notice to my boss earlier today. Now I just have to break it to my family.

  I look around the table at them, already sweating. Larissa looks smug, like she knows some secret and is dying to spill it. Anxiety churns in my stomach. Does she know I quit my job?

  We all order, although I know I won’t be able to eat a bite. Mom is giving me narrow-eyed looks while Dad seems intent on not looking at any of us. While Mom lives for conflict, Dad prefers to keep his nose to the grindstone and stay out of drama. How he and Mom ever got together, I have no idea.

  “So, Rissy, how’s the boyfriend?” Larissa sips her water, wrinkling her perfect little nose a bit.

  I have no idea how to take her tone. “He’s great,” I say slowly. “We attended a ball last weekend, and it was fun.” With the exception of Charles showing up, and Janelle, and now Simon won’t talk to me…

  Mom sniffs. I’m about to ask her what her problem is when our waiter begins setting our plates in front of us. Seeing the salad in front of me, I remember how I ate breakfast with Simon in bed. That was the last time I saw him.

  Dad is just starting on his salad when Mom says in a stern voice, “Marissa, we know all about Simon Dale.”