George woke up out of his food coma long enough to feel sympathetic toward me. “I know, Kiki. Sometimes these things come up, and I’m doing what I can. I’m waiting on a call from his agent is all. My hands are kind of tied until I know what Julio wants.”
I sighed and flopped back into my chair. The trip over to France had been uneventful, but all these hiccups in the plan had me nervous and agitated, the same way I had felt when I was sixteen and completely naïve as I signed with Harper Music. I crossed my arms and brooded, bitterly thinking to myself how quickly fame could ebb and flow.
“You let him do his thing, honey,” Wanda said in her rich, calm voice. I inhaled deeply and held it a few seconds in my lungs. “I have to get you finished and over to Casey so you can be all ready for your shoot.”
“What if there isn’t anything to record?” I asked. “It’s kind of difficult to film Only You as planned without a hot male lead.” I swallowed the stubborn lump in my throat and kept my eyes closed. No tears were allowed to fall today.
“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Wanda said.
I opened my eyes just as hers skipped across the studio to where Josh was standing, quietly observing what was happening on set. If my face weren’t already red, Wanda might have noticed the heat creeping up my neck. A tiny smile danced in her eyes, and I looked away. She already suspected something.
Finishing with the abrasive scrub, Wanda washed it off and generously applied several layers of creams that left me feeling refreshed. By the time she popped my seat up so she could apply the soft makeup that had been decided upon in the planning meeting for the video, the only rosiness left in my face was on my cheeks.
“You almost done here, Wanda?” The director of the shoot, Marc Lemiere, asked. He walked toward us with Casey a step behind. “We are a tad ahead of schedule and can start whenever Kiki is ready.”
“You didn’t hear?” Wanda asked with a raised eyebrow. She gently tilted my head and asked me to close my eyes so she could apply a set of false lashes.
“Hear what?” Marc asked. I loved hearing his French accent. It made everything he said sound so alluring.
“Julio is a no-go. At least that’s what George last said,” Wanda answered.
The blood drained from Marc’s face and his eyes glassed over. Running a hand back and forth over his balding scalp, he said, “No, I hadn’t heard that. That’s a fairly vital piece of information I would hope I’d be privy to. Where is George, anyway?”
Almost as if on cue, George opened the exterior door to the studio and marched over to our impromptu meeting. “I just got off the phone with Julio’s agent. He’s definitely out of the picture.”
“Are you kidding me?” I wanted to scream and rip my hair out, but I kept my voice low. “What is it with male models? Why are they always so demanding? Is it so difficult to show up, keep your mouth shut, and look sexy on camera?”
“I’m afraid it’s not that,” George said. For the first time, I noticed the pinch of worry on his face and it made my heart sink. “Actually, he saw that unflattering photo of you and Cinnamon and doesn’t feel like it would be in his best interest to work with you at the moment.”
All the intense emotions that had been stewing inside were on the verge of erupting out of me with deadly force. I couldn’t think straight, could hardly hear what everyone was saying. Couldn’t Julio have chickened out because of his animal rights fanaticism at least a couple days ago so we could have found a replacement?
Marc was listing possible alternatives that he could find last minute on his fingers while George shot down each idea. Wanda continued to work, and I tried not to be annoyed with her. If we weren’t going to film today, there was hardly a point to applying eyeliner. Casey just looked around the room, his brain obviously trying to find a solution to our debacle.
“What about that dude?” Casey asked, pointing to someone behind me. “He could fill in, couldn’t he?”
Everyone turned to see who he was referring to. “Josh? My bodyguard?” I nearly choked.
“Yeah,” Casey shrugged. “Why not?”
“That seems inappropriate,” I said quickly, looking down at my fidgeting hands.
“No, I think Casey’s right,” Marc said slowly. “Your bodyguard is going to have to smile for the camera if you want to get this video filmed today.”
* * *
“You want me to do what?” Josh asked. The cutest half-smirk raised one side of his mouth.
“We need you to fill in as Kiki’s main man today. Unfortunately, the other guy is…” Marc trailed off, “unavailable and we can’t find a replacement quickly enough to be able to shoot as planned today. This would save everyone beaucoup trouble.” Marc turned to me. “Help me, Kiki. What is a good translation of beaucoup?”
“Loads,” I said, carefully watching Josh with a guarded expression. I didn’t want to appear disappointed if he declined, and I certainly didn’t want to squeal with glee should he be brave enough to step into Julio’s shoes. “It would save Marc, the crew, the studio, and me a lot of trouble if you could help us out. I know it’s not in your job description—”
Josh interrupted, “If it’ll help you, I’ll do it.”
A rush of gratitude enveloped me, and Josh’s acceptance felt like he’d single-handedly tossed a boulder off of my shoulders.
“Thank you,” I breathed. “That means a lot.”
Josh kept his eyes trained on me for a moment before Marc pulled him away to Casey’s chair. Casey immediately got to work trimming his mop of wavy blond hair while Wanda put on the final touches on my face.
With renewed vigor, the crew finished assembling the set to look like a cozy living room with a sparkling fireplace at the center. Harrison gave me an oversized cream cowl neck sweater and a pair of ripped jeans to slip into. Though wardrobe usually put me in skimpy, tight clothing so the camera wouldn’t miss any of my curves as I danced, I was secretly grateful for something more modest. I’d met Julio before and would have been able to film the video without trouble. Now that Josh had agreed, my stomach undulated between flitting butterflies of anticipation and nauseating waves of nervousness.
I stepped out from behind the changing screen just as Josh pulled off his shirt to put on the flannel button up shirt Harrison had handed him. I hid behind the screen again, admiring Josh’s well-defined shoulders through the crack. Someone on the crew catcalled at him, and Josh smiled good-naturedly but turned away as he finished up the buttons.
“Sorry I hogged the changing screen,” I said as I stacked my other outfit on the table next to Josh. “I didn’t realize it was the only one they’d brought out.”
Josh shrugged. “No worries. Harrison approved of my jeans. If I’d had to strip down into my boxers, I might have waited for you to finish.”
“How absolutely prudish of you,” I teased while picking at a loose thread on my shirt so he couldn’t read my face. I shoved the thought of Josh in his boxers out of my head and slammed that door shut.
That elicited a throaty laugh from Josh. “I know it’s been a while since you’ve lived in the real world but the average person isn’t comfortable strolling around half-naked.”
“Are you implying I am?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.
Josh laughed again. “The security team has thoroughly studied your past concerts to assess risks, and I couldn’t help but notice that wardrobe seems to think that less is more with you.”
“Everyone ready?” Marc called as he jogged over to us. We both nodded. “Great. Let me show you what camera angles we’re going to use and what I want you two to do for me. Come with me.”
I started to follow Marc, but Josh gently grabbed my elbow. “By the way, I like this look on you. It makes you more approachable, very feminine.”
“Well, thank you for the compliment, Josh,” I said quietly, pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
Josh put his hands on his waist. “Sorry? I don’t think I heard you correctly.
”
I took a step back. “Excuse me? Fishing for compliments now? I didn’t peg you as someone so insecure that needed to—”
Josh held a hand up to silence me. “No, I mean you slipped up. You just called me Josh.”
Chapter Nine
“You’re doing pretty good,” Josh said as he looked down at the chessboard. Knitting his hands together and putting his elbows on the edge of the table, he leaned his chin on the top of his knuckles. I held his gaze, but I could see from my peripheral vision the sinewy muscles of his forearms. I had very much appreciated when Marc had asked him to roll up his sleeves.
“You peg me as one of those dumb blonds, Josh?” I purred, resting my hand on the top of my knight.
He smirked and murmured, “I would never.”
From his director’s seat, Marc called over to us. “This is great. Love the chemistry.”
Josh broke concentration and glanced over to where a small crowd of people watched us. Only You played over the sound system, a faint reminder of what the ultimate end to this oddly chaperoned playdate with Josh was to be. I’d listened to it before we’d left for France and had been thrilled with how it’d turned out. Ruby had been right—it was heartfelt, emotional, powerful. I was even pleasantly pleased with Monica’s vocals on backup. That girl had issues she needed to deal with before she could truly be great, but there was no denying she had pipes.
I contemplated my next chess move while listening to the chorus of the song and got lost in the emotions. Here with Josh, I allowed myself to toy with the idea of letting go of my inhibitions and admitting that I might be falling for my bodyguard.
“Keep going, Josh,” Marc coached. “Don’t look at the camera. Keep your eyes on Kiki.”
I thanked my lucky stars that the lights had been dimmed to keep the ambiance intimate. The crackling fire to my right cast dancing shadows and light across my face, and I wondered if Josh could see the blush that heated my cheeks. Skipping my knight across the board, I looked back up at Josh.
“Checkmate.”
Josh’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. Studying the board, he stammered incredulously, “Really?”
Pointing as I explained how I’d pulled it off, my droopy sweater sleeve caught a few of the pieces, toppling them over. Trying to catch them only made it worse. In my frantic grabbing, I accidentally bumped the bottle of grape juice props had set up in place of wine, which then knocked into the delicate wine flutes. It didn’t take much for them to tip over, splashing sticky juice all across the board and Josh.
“Towel! I need a towel!” I shouted as Josh jumped out of his seat, wiping his face with his sleeve and chuckling at me.
“That was a little low, don’t you think?” he teased.
I tilted my head and smirked. “You’re just a sore loser. Plus, you’ll never insinuate I’m a dumb blond ever again, I guarantee you that.”
“No,” Josh said with his hands on his hips. “You’re anything but.”
One of the guys holding a clipboard came running with a towel that he tossed to Josh. He started wiping down his face but Marc shouted at him to stop.
“No!” Marc exclaimed. “We’re going to go with this. Toss the towel to her. Kiki, I want you to clean Josh up.”
Josh obediently threw the towel, which I caught. Turning to Marc, I asked, not positive I’d heard correctly. “You want me to do what?”
“Remember,” Marc explained, his eyes alight with excitement. “This song is at its very heart about falling in love. I want to create a video that shows the two of you realizing you want to move from friends to something more. We need those tender, flirtatious, intimate moments on film. Ready?”
I chewed my bottom lip and was intensely aware of my pounding heart. Turning back to Josh, I murmured, “Sorry I spilled juice on you.”
He shrugged, unconcerned he was soaked with juice that was surely going to leave a stain. “Sounds like in a roundabout way, it’s sort of serendipitous.”
“Go ahead! Start by wiping off his face,” Marc encouraged.
I hoped Josh didn’t see my shaking hand as I lifted the towel. Gently, I wiped it down his cheek, cautiously looking out of the corner of my eye to see if Marc approved.
“Kiki!” Marc said in exasperation. “What is holding you back? Flirt with him!”
I jumped, startled at his forcefulness. If Julio had been the one I’d splashed, we would’ve had a good laugh, and I would’ve cleaned him up the way Marc directed me to, but I hesitated with Josh. The lines between pretending I was falling for him and actually falling for him were becoming blurred, and it scared me.
I reached up again to wipe his face but avoided his eyes. I could practically feel them boring a hole right through me, he was staring so intently at me. Marc was eating it up, complimenting Josh on his acting, and I wasn’t about to be shown up.
“You’re too tall,” I murmured. “Sit down so I can properly wipe your face.” Josh complied and sat down in his seat. Quickly, I added, “It’ll give the camera some good angles.”
I stepped closer to Josh and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. He still stared at me, but this time I met his eyes as I brushed away his hair and wiped the damp towel across his head. Either I’d become lost in the moment or the room had gone completely silent, but I couldn’t hear or see or sense anyone else but Josh.
Remembering that Josh was my bodyguard and that I was probably the unluckiest woman alive when it came to love, I snapped out of it. Stepping away from Josh, I twirled the towel in my hand and turned back to Marc and away from Josh. I couldn’t stand having him look at me anymore, wondering if he was just a really good actor or if there was some feeling behind the look in his eyes.
“How was that?” I asked Marc.
“C’etais magnifique,” Marc said happily, clapping his hands. “On to the couch scene!”
A goofy grin widened across Josh’s face. “Couch scene, huh?”
I smacked him in the stomach and rolled my eyes. “It’s not what you think.”
“What is it I’m thinking, then?” Josh teased.
My mouth dropped open, and I shut it again. “Okay, it kind of is what you’re thinking it is, but it’s only for the sake of filming this music video. No funny stuff. And keep your hands where I can see them at all times.”
“If I’m not a complete gentleman, feel free to whip out your mace again,” Josh quipped.
Half-laughing, half-exasperated, I sighed. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“Probably not,” Josh agreed. “It’s not often that people get the one-up on me, but you got me pretty good. I guess I didn’t know what to expect from you when I saw you for the first time in a decade.”
I corrected, “It’s only been seven years.”
“Well,” Josh said, “a lot has changed in that time.”
Harrison came trotting up to us, pulling a small clothing rack behind him. “Here are your wardrobe changes. Marc would like you ready in ten, but Casey and Wanda want to touch up everything before then, so you’d better scoot.”
Harrison pulled away his cart with the squeaky wheel, parking it in an out-of-the-way corner. Smirking, Josh looked down at me, the tiniest dimple forming in his cheek. “Did he just tell us to scoot?”
I snorted behind my hand, mortified that I could make such an obnoxious noise. The more Josh opened up, the more he kept catching me off guard. I hated making a fool of myself, but it’d been so long since anyone had affected my emotions so easily that I almost didn’t remember how to control them at all.
“Ladies first,” Josh said, looking rather pleased he’d made me laugh.
As fast as I could, I switched from my comfortable, unassuming sweater into an off-the-shoulder knit shirt that certainly flattered my figure more. If I had to guess, wardrobe was trying to be metaphoric with their clothing choices as the filming for the video progressed. Not that I was complaining. I loved a good slouchy sweater, but I appreciated
the femininity and snugness of the new outfit.
By the time Wanda and Casey had gotten their hands on me again, spritzing my hair with another layer of hairspray and powdering my nose, Marc had already situated Josh on the couch. I gulped again, knowing just what was coming. I was supposed to lay in his arms, staring at the camera and singing the lyrics. The mere thought of being in such close proximity made me forget everything I’d written with Ruby.
I was silently grateful to Josh that he didn’t make it weird. Laying back against a guy could turn awkward and creepy real quick. He kept his hands to himself as much as he could, though Marc kept yelling from his seat to run his fingers along my arms or to nuzzle his stubbly face into my neck. More than once, a shiver of pleasure shook my whole body.
“Sorry,” I’d giggle nervously. “I’m ticklish.” That was an outright lie—the only place I was ticklish was my feet, not that anyone needed to know that.
I leapt from the couch a tad too fast when Marc declared the footage sufficient, elbowing Josh in the stomach in my haste to get up.
Clapping my hands and rubbing them together, I asked, “Ready to take this show on the road?”
Josh sat up and pretended to rub his stomach. “In a minute. Somebody practically knocked the wind out of me.”
“Please. You have abs of steel. I doubt I could hurt you if I tried,” I sassed.
“Noticed my abs, did you?” Josh said with a playful wink.
Before my face erupted with embarrassment, I was out of the studio faster than a racehorse from the starting gate. For the final sequence of filming, we drove from the studio to downtown Paris. The sun was still bright in the sky, but by the time the camera crew got set up, Josh and I had changed into one last outfit, and we’d been primped and preened once more, it was twilight. The sky was a pretty periwinkle blue and a few bright stars hung above like diamonds.
How a Star Shines: A Pop Stars Romantic Comedy Book 2 Page 7
