Unwritten (A Beachwood Bay Love Story Book 11)

by Melody Grace

  I worked late into the night on the page revisions, trying to make them perfect. I can’t believe Dash has given me a chance to actually write something for the movie, and even though it’s just a few pages rewriting the scene that’s already on the page, I want it to be perfect.

  Blake sits beside me on the bed and leans over to kiss me. “Happy birthday,” he tells me. “Tegan sent me to come get you for your first birthday surprise.”

  I cringe. “You promised you wouldn’t let her go crazy,” I remind him.

  Blake smiles. “Cross my heart.” He mimes the action on his chest. “It’s just a birthday breakfast with everyone at the diner. She invited Brit and Hunter too, so remember to act surprised.”

  “I will.” I exhale in relief. A fun breakfast is definitely something I can handle—especially if there are chocolate-chip pancakes as part of the deal. “OK, let me jump in the shower, I won’t be a minute.”

  I scramble out of bed, but Blake catches me before I reach the bathroom. He wraps his arms tight around me. “Make that ten,” he says, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief as his hands slip below my old T-shirt. “I’m definitely going to need ten minutes for my first gift…”

  In the end, it takes twenty minutes before the water in the shower runs cold and we finally drag ourselves to the diner, breathless and happy. I step through the doors to find Tegan and Ryland waiting in a back booth with Dex. There are balloons strung up around the table, and a bouquet of flowers too.

  It feels like family.

  I swallow back the lump in my throat. “Hey guys!” I recover, going to join them. “I can’t believe you did all of this, it’s so sweet!”

  “I won’t ask why you’re late.” Tegan greets me with a hug. “You’ve got that glowy sex haze all over you.”

  I blush. “We were, um, waylaid by Mrs. Olsen.”

  “What’s that, sweetheart?”

  I turn. The lady herself is approaching with a huge platter of pancakes and food.

  Blake leans in. “Busted,” he whispers.

  I blush harder.

  “Happy birthday,” Mrs.Olsen tells me, smiling. “I had them add a little extra chocolate, just for you.”

  “Thank you! This looks amazing,” I say, quickly changing the subject away from just what Blake and I were doing with the detachable shower head. I take in the huge spread of food and feel my mouth start to water. “Thanks for ordering for us, I’m starving, I was up all night on the rewrites,” I babble, sliding into the booth and reaching for my fork.

  “Blake told us about your new gig,” Dex says, raising his glass of OJ in a toast. “That’s awesome.”

  “Next stop, the Oscars,” Ryland agrees, passing around the pancakes.

  I laugh. “Not anytime soon, but maybe one day. I’d love to take some screenwriting classes, back in LA. Learn more about it all.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Blake says, squeezing in beside me. He drapes his arm around my shoulder so I’m snug against his solid muscles. “Does this mean you’re moving to LA once filming ends here?”

  I tilt my head up to look at him. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe,” he echoes, teasing. “Is this you playing hard to get?”

  “A girl’s got to keep her options open,” I say lightly. “You know me, international jet-setter.” I’m playing it cool, but inside I’m beaming. Me moving out there with him is a whole different conversation I’m not ready to have just yet, but Blake isn’t running screaming for the hills at the idea, at least.

  “Enough Hollywood talk,” Tegan tuts, pulling my attention back to the table. “What are your three?”

  “Her three?” Blake repeats, looking puzzled.

  Dex laughs. “Remember, they do this every year,” he explains, pouring another cup of coffee. “They have to say three things they’re proud of from the year that’s passed, and three things they want to do in the year ahead. I don’t even remember when you guys started it.”

  “In school,” I smile, remembering. “We had an English teacher who was big on goals and lists.”

  “So, come on,” Tegan urges me.

  “OK…” I think fast. “My three for this year were…making it through my whole time at the magazine in Paris without once crying in front of the dragon lady. I went to the bathrooms for that,” I add, laughing. “And, number two, I managed to get by on my crappy French without offending anyone. And three…” I stop.

  “What?” Blake prompts me.

  I flush. “And, I kissed you, on New Years. That was pretty brave of me.”

  Tegan leads the others in a round of applause. I grin, dipping my head in a little bow. “Thank you, thank you very much.”

  “So what’s ahead then?” Ryland asks, finally coming up for air from his massive plate of hash.

  “My goals?” I exhale. “I don’t know, I guess… I’d like to finish up this production. Do the screenwriting thing, and, find a place to call home.”

  I can’t stop myself from looking over at Blake as I say the last one. I’ve spent years bouncing around the world, from my parents’ stations overseas to boarding school to Paris and now here. Seeing the home Tegan has made for herself here makes me want to settle down myself, stay somewhere for longer than a few months and make a life for myself too.

  But Blake is shoveling eggs in his mouth and doesn’t notice.

  “Those sound like pretty good goals,” Tegan nods approvingly. “But aren’t you forgetting one?”

  I blink. “Like what?”

  “The one about eating your body weight in waffles,” she grins.

  I laugh, and reach for my fork. “I better get started then!”

  Breakfast flies by in a blur of laughter and syrup-drenched carbs. I love how natural it feels, like I really belong as part of the family. I’ve always thought of the Callahans as the family I’ve never had, and Tegan has welcomed me with open arms, but there’s always been a part of me that wondered if I was a third wheel: tagging along because I didn’t have anyplace else to be. But now, with Blake’s arm draped around me, there’s a security I’ve always craved. I know that it’s right where I belong, with the people I care about most in the world, and by the time Blake and I drive to set, I’m in a contented haze.

  “Best birthday ever,” I say happily, reaching over to take Blake’s hand.

  He chuckles. “We haven’t even gotten started yet!”

  “With what?” I ask.

  He gives me a mysterious smile from behind the wheel. “That’s a surprise,” he says, teasing. “But be ready at seven after work. I have the whole night planned.”

  I feel a shiver of excitement. “Give me a hint.”

  “Nope.” Blake turns back to the road.

  “Come on…” I beg. “I need to figure out what to wear,” I try to reason with him. “A moonlight walk on the beach needs totally different clothing options than a fancy dinner, or hang-gliding, or race-car driving—”

  “OK, OK!” Blake laughs. “No hang-gliding tonight. Think dressy, dinner and dancing.” He winks.

  My excitement grows. I have the perfect dress: a clingy midnight blue number I’ve been saving for a special occasion. And a romantic night out with Blake is about as special as they come.

  “Anything else you can tell me?” I push my luck. “So I can come prepared, I mean.”

  “That’s all you’re getting!” Blake protests. “Otherwise, it won’t be a surprise.”

  “Surprises are overrated,” I sigh. “I prefer to know exactly what’s coming. That way, I can enjoy looking forward to it.”

  Blake pulls into the parking lot and shuts off the engine. He leans over and pulls me against him, kissing me long and slow and deep. “I promise, I’m going to show you a night to remember,” he murmurs as my heart races. He trails a finger down my cheek and throat, making me shiver. “And Dash is giving us both the morning off too, so we don’t even need to make it back to town before dawn.”

  “Aha!” I pull away. “That means we’re g
oing out of town! Where? How far?”

  “Hush you,” Blake chuckles. “My lips are sealed.”

  We get out of the car, but just as we’re heading towards the set, Blake’s cell rings. He checks the display. “It’s my agent,” he says, a shadow flitting across his face. “He’s probably got more bad news.”

  “You don’t know that,” I give him a sympathetic look. “Take it. Otherwise it’ll be hanging over you all day.”

  Blake takes a deep breath, as if to brace himself, then answers. “Hey Josh…”

  I drift a respectful distance away. Dash is just coming out of the production trailer, and when he sees me, he waves me over.

  Now it’s my turn to brace myself. I hit “send” on the script pages early this morning; now I can only hope they were what Dash wanted.

  “Was it OK?” I approach him, nervous. “I tried to keep them close to what we had, because I know you didn’t want to change locations or production things—”

  I break off with a yelp as Dash grips me around the waist and spins me around.

  “I could kiss you right now!” he exclaims. “The pages were perfect! I can’t believe just a few small fixes change the whole dynamic of the scene.”

  “Are you sure?” I breathe, elated. “That’s what I was hoping. It was really all about the way they were relating… It’s almost like the script was saying too much.”

  “I couldn’t have said it better myself.” Dash grins. “I’d plant one on you if your boyfriend wasn’t lurking over there.”

  I laugh. “I’m happy to help,” I tell him. “I love being a part of all this.”

  “Good, because I’ve got some ideas for next week’s scenes…” Dash launches into a rapid-fire brainstorming session that sends me scrambling for a notebook and pen. I add my own suggestions, and by the time I’ve jotted down all our ideas for revamping the final scenes of the movie, it’s been half an hour.

  “I’ve told Kira to take you off production duties,” Dash adds, finally running out of steam. “From now on, you’re officially my script assistant.”

  I feel a surge of pride. “I really appreciate the chance,” I tell him. “I know this is a big deal.”

  Dash waves away my gratitude. “Trust me, love. You’re the one doing me a favor. Most of the guys you get for last-minute changes charge an arm and a leg.”

  “Does this mean I should get a bump in salary?” I ask with a cheeky grin.

  Dash laughs. “Love, I’m practically doing this for free myself. But next time, I promise, I’ll see you right.”

  I hug myself, excited. He could just be blowing me off, but even the fact he’s casually talking about a next time makes me think that maybe my writing dreams could be real. Imagine…being the one to help create the movies I see up on screen. It’s an incredible goal, but this is my very first step.

  I go look for Blake to tell him the good news, but when I find him getting powder applied in the makeup trailer, his whole energy has changed. He slumps in the chair, staring at the script, and doesn’t even hear me come in.

  “Blake?” I ask, worried. “What did your agent have to say? Is everything OK?”

  Blake lifts his gaze to meet mine. He slowly shakes his head. “It’s what I was afraid of. That movie I was in talks for, with the director Jacques Carrere? It’s all gone bust. He’s looking at other actors now, his people say he doesn’t even want to meet with me.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.” My heart falls. I know how much this means to him; every time he mentioned this potential role, his whole face would light up. Now, I can see his disappointment.

  I go to him and pull up a chair nearby. “Are you sure there’s nothing you can do? You were going to go audition, right?”

  Blake sighs. “He’s meeting actors now in New York. Josh tried to get me in, but he’s leaving tonight, so even if I could get a slot…”

  He looks so downcast, I can’t stand it.

  “You have to go!”

  Blake looks puzzled.

  “I mean it,” I insist. The idea takes shape. “Go to New York today and see him before he leaves. Just show up at his hotel room, he’ll have to talk to you then!”

  Blake gets up and pulls on his shirt for the scene. “I can’t. It’s not how you do things—”

  “Screw how you normally do things!” I say forcefully. “Don’t you see? You’re letting all these other people stand between you and what you want. Your agent, his people… You used to do this all the time, remember? When you were just starting out. You’d show up at auditions you’d never even been invited too and talk your way in. So what’s changed?”

  Blake pauses, and I can see the conflict in his eyes. “It’s different now. I need to be a professional.”

  “You can be as professional as you want once you get the job!” I argue. “Once you get in a room with this Jacques guy, he’ll see how perfect you are,” I promise him. “You just need to take the risk and make it happen!”

  The spark returns to Blake’s expression. “Dash could move my scenes to tomorrow,” he says slowly. “If I drove straight to the city right now and caught a flight, I could be there before Jacques leaves—” He stops, looking stricken. “But what about your birthday? I had everything planned!”

  He’s right. I feel a brief wave of disappointment, but I push it aside. “My birthday can wait.” I grab both his hands. “This is important to you, which means it’s important to me too. I want you to get this job!”

  Blake slowly smiles. “Sometimes I think you believe in me more than I believe in myself,” he says quietly.

  “Well, we’ll work on that later.” I laugh. “Right now, we need to get Dash to change the schedule. And book your flight, and hotel, and figure out what you’re going to wear—”

  Blake cuts me off with a kiss. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” he swears. “I’ll catch a flight home as soon as I’ve seen him. I’ll be back by tonight, and then we can celebrate together.”

  “Just go out there, and show that guy what you’re made of,” I tell him, touched that he even cares about missing my birthday dinner when the role of a lifetime is up for grabs. “Nobody puts baby in a corner.”

  He laughs, then his smile fades a little. “I could be making a huge mistake,” he points out. “Being unprofessional, like I can’t take a hint. And what if he still doesn’t want to work with me?”

  “Then at least you tried,” I tell him. “That’s all you can do.”

  21.

  Blake leaves for the airport right away. We spend the rest of the day on set filming a scene with Lila and her character’s best friend, and when we wrap, I head over to the beach house to meet Tegan.

  “Just because my brother took off on you doesn’t mean we can’t celebrate,” she says, ushering me inside. “Look, girls night!”

  I step into the living room and laugh. She’s got the whole place set up for a slumber party, with pillows and blankets, and junk food on every table. Brit waves from her perch on the floor, her mouth full of popcorn, and Carina is on the couch showing photos on her phone to another brunette woman who looks familiar.

  “It’s my first night away from him,” she’s saying, before she looks up and sees me. “Happy birthday!”

  I go hug her hello. “Where’s little Sawyer?” I ask, referring to her three-month-old. “I haven’t seen you around town at all since he was born.”

  “He’s with the sitter,” Carina says, pushing back her blonde hair. She looks about as tired as Garrett’s been, but there’s a new glow about her too. “I can’t believe I get a whole evening without someone grabbing for my boob.”

  “Speak for yourself, I miss my boob-grabber.” The other woman gives a wicked smile.

  I laugh.

  “You remember Sophie, right?” Tegan introduces her. “You met at New Year’s.”

  “Right!” I exclaim happily. “You’re the one dating Dex’s bandmate, Austin. Wow, the gang’s all here.”

  “Don’t forget m
e.” A voice comes from behind us, and I turn to find Dex’s fiancée, Alicia, coming in from the kitchen with a tray of cocktail glasses. Her red hair is pulled up in a casual knot, and she’s wearing one of Dex’s shirts with her jeans.

  “When did you get in?” I exclaim, surprised.

  “Just this afternoon,” Alicia smiles, coming to kiss me hello. “Perfect timing!”

  “Perfect to spend some quality time with your fiancé,” Dex mutters, slinking past.

  “Hey, out!” Tegan points. “No boys allowed.”

  “You’re lucky I love you like a sister,” Dex tells me darkly, “otherwise I’d never let you steal her away on her first night back.”

  He heads for the door. Tegan jabs him playfully in the ribs as he passes. “Don’t give me that puppy-dog look. Garrett’s at the bar with Ryland, you guys can drink beer and watch grown men wrestle, or whatever manly things you like to do.”

  “While you girls braid each other’s hair and talk about boys?” he shoots back with a grin.

  “Absolutely,” Alicia teases him. “And we can’t do that with you lurking. Go on, get out of here.” She gives him a kiss, then pushes him out the door.

  “Are you sure?” I ask her, concerned, as the door closes behind him. “You’ve been away for weeks now, I won’t mind if you spend the night with him instead.”

  Alicia waves away my concern. “He’s always on the road, touring with the band. It’s time he got a taste of his own medicine.”

  “Besides,” Sophie adds from the couch, “anticipation is half the fun. It’ll be worth the wait, right?”

  “Right.” Alicia grins.

  Carina snorts. “You can keep your wild sex, thanks very much. I’d settle for a single night of sleep.”

  “Awww, you don’t mean that,” Brit says. “And you love it, right? Being a mother.”

  Carina rolls her eyes, but she can’t stop the massive grin spreading across her face. “Fine, I love it. I love every single dirty diaper and drooling vomit-y moment.”

  “Eww,” I laugh. “No boys allowed tonight, and no dirty diapers either.”