Swinging On A Star (The Hollywood Showmance Chronicles Book 2)

by Olivia Jaymes

  “You rehearsed that, didn’t you?”

  His cheeks turned slightly red. “I did. For once with you, I didn’t want to fuck things up. It thought if I delivered a prepared speech our meeting might start out well.”

  “I think your apology was wonderful. Quite moving. I don’t think mine will be nearly as good.”

  He began to speak but she shook her head and held up a hand. “No, I owe you one as well. What I said about the award thing…unnecessarily nasty. When I’m hurt I can hit out with the best of them. I’m really sorry about that crack and all the other snarky crap I’ve thrown at you.”

  She’d barely finished and taken a breath when he replied. “I wholeheartedly deserved it. You have every right to defend yourself.”

  “Defense is one thing, but offense is something else.”

  He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I brought something of a peace offering. To show that I’m sincere about trying again and being more open.”

  Okay, this wasn’t foreseen. “That’s very thoughtful but I’ve accepted your apology.”

  He moved to the end of the couch near her chair, fumbling with the laptop and finally getting it open. “I need to show you something. I know that I haven’t exactly been boyfriend material, or even fake-boyfriend material, but I want to prove to you that I’m not as spoiled and narcissistic as you may believe. I do have a few good qualities.”

  If Page was to be believed, he had several. He’d pulled up a document and for a moment she thought he might have convinced some females to give him some sort of testimonial.

  Max was a great boyfriend. He always opened my car door.

  Max is a great cook and he always made me breakfast in the morning.

  Max is a considerate lover and always let me come first.

  This was why she didn’t have a man. She was too sarcastic, too outspoken.

  “I wanted to show you this.”

  He turned the laptop around so the screen was facing her and then set it in her lap. At first she frowned and stared at it, not sure what she was seeing. It was a list and as she realized what kind of list it was she began to smile.

  “You made the list.”

  He nodded, clearly wanting her approval. “I did. At first I put stupid things on it but later I really tried to make it serious.”

  He made the list.

  Carrie was so overwhelmed she almost couldn’t speak. This was no small feat. Even if he hadn’t thought about it all that hard…he’d made the list.

  She started at the top. “Baked Alaska and black lingerie. That sounds dangerous, what with a blowtorch and a lot of skin bared but this is your list.”

  “Mike gave me a hard time for that part.”

  “He shouldn’t have. Feeling free to express yourself is part of the exercise. Don’t hem yourself in with rules. Let’s see what else you have here. She should like music, preferably classical. That sounds good.”

  “Bach would be preferable but Beethoven is fine too.”

  He wished his soulmate could sing because he couldn’t. He wanted her to be a night owl because that’s what he was. He didn’t care what her favorite color was as long as it wasn’t orange because he hated orange.

  With each successive item he’d revealed himself a little more.

  Whoa. This was getting a little personal. Maybe she should stop reading.

  He wanted his soulmate to be a little kinky in the sheets but not all the time. He liked the idea of roleplaying in bed.

  This wasn’t what she’d had in mind when she said she wanted to get to know him but beggars couldn’t be choosers. But now she was totally going to picture him as the pizza delivery guy.

  “You’ve put a lot of thought into this, Max.”

  He wanted her to want lots of children. Shit, that one got her right in the heart. He was a softie for kids. Then he gave her the one-two punch. He liked dogs too. He had to be a good person if he was a sucker for a cute canine. This day was certainly turning out differently than she’d planned.

  “I wanted to show you I could do this.” He paced nervously back and forth in front of the fireplace as she read through it. “What do you think?”

  She didn’t hold back. “I’m impressed. Very impressed. First, that you did it at all and then second, that you really took some time with this. You have a sense of who you are looking for.”

  He stopped and ran his fingers through his hair. “I doubt I’ll ever find someone like that. A little kinky and wants several children? What are the odds?”

  It was all Carrie could do not to raise her hand. She met those criteria but some of the others were non-starters. She couldn’t sing and she was a morning person, although she wasn’t all that fond of orange either. She didn’t know diddly-squat about classical music but she bet he didn’t know shit about Blake Shelton.

  “You never know,” she replied instead, perusing the second column of the list. “You may not get everything you write down but I like the fact that you even made a section for deal-breakers. That may be the most important thing to know when going into a new relationship. You don’t want anyone addicted to alcohol and drugs. That’s good. You want someone who has their own interests and friends. Wise. You don’t want someone who just lives through you. And the last here, you don’t want a woman who is with you to further her own career. Wow, I would hope so.”

  He dropped down on the couch. “In my business that isn’t a given.”

  Alana. Tyler had warned Carrie that Max was deeply wounded by what his ex had done. He might not be in love with her anymore but she’d screwed him up for the next woman.

  Hold on, I’m the next woman.

  Placing the laptop on the coffee table between them, she lifted her wine glass to her lips, giving herself time to process what she’d seen. He’d certainly become more human in her eyes. She could be a friend to a man like this.

  “What about your list?”

  She froze, looking at him over the rim of her wine glass before slowly lowering it to the table. “I beg your pardon?”

  “What about your list?” he repeated. “Shouldn’t you share yours with me? Isn’t that the point of this? To get to know one another?”

  It was but mostly for her to get to know him.

  She shrugged and gave him her best sorrowful look. “I don’t have a recent one. The last one I made was like…five years ago.”

  He opened the laptop again. “Then let’s make a new one. You talk and I’ll type.”

  Shit. Son of a bitch. Damn.

  She had no one to blame but herself for this. Making a fuss about getting to know one another and now look where she was – caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. She held up her half-empty wine glass.

  “If I’m going to do this, I’m going to need to a refill. More than a few times.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Max’s hands were poised over the keyboard. “So start brainstorming and I’ll just type everything down. You can go through the list later and decide if they stay.”

  This was real progress. Carrie had accepted his apology and they were getting to know one another. He couldn’t wait to tell Mike and Nate that he’d opened up and it hadn’t been that bad.

  Carrie’s fingers fiddled with the stem of the wine glass. “I guess…he should be kind.”

  “Kind to animals? Children? The elderly?”

  Pressing her lips together, she rolled her eyes. “To everyone.”

  He began to type but then stopped. “Even people who aren’t nice to you? Wouldn’t that make him either a dolt or a jerk? Why would he be kind to someone who isn’t kind to his soulmate? It doesn’t make sense to me.”

  “I thought we were just brainstorming.”

  “It was just a question.”

  He wasn’t sure why the answer was important to him.

  “It was three questions, actually. Let’s just say that I want him to be kind in the general sense and move on.”

  “Fine,” he
said shortly. “It’s your list.”

  “I would want someone who takes care of himself.”

  She was so vague in her answers. Jesus, he’d been specific. Black lingerie and Baked Alaska. It didn’t get much more definitive than that.

  “Emotionally? Physically? Spiritually?”

  “All three.”

  Of course, he should have known without asking. “Quite the paragon of virtue you’ve described so far. He pets dogs in the park whilst on his daily five-mile run, then helps little old ladies cross the street on the way to his therapist appointment, but before that he’ll give a lollipop to a child after stopping to worship the deity of his choice.”

  Max had a wicked, sarcastic sense of humor and for the most part the women in his life either hadn’t gotten the jokes or did and didn’t like them. He really needed to tone it down if he and Carrie were going to get along. Christ, they’d only just made up and then he had to go off on a small rant.

  Great job, arsehole. She’s getting to know you now.

  Only Carrie wasn’t angry, she was laughing. Her cheeks had turned a most attractive shade of pink and she was holding her stomach, almost doubled over. She wiped at her eyes, still giggling, and then took a gulp of her wine.

  “Oh my stars, you are so right.” She hiccupped and tried to stifle her laughter. “When you say it like that this guy sounds like a real snore. Like the kind of guy that my mother would love but I would hate.”

  She was quite beautiful when she smiled like that, without a care in the world. She also looked much too young for him with her guileless whiskey-colored eyes and dimpled cheeks. Fresh and innocent, two things he didn’t find much in Hollywood.

  With a grin he erased everything he’d already typed. “How about we try again and be honest this time? Not that I don’t think you want a kind man, I’m sure you do. But think out of the box a little. For example, how do you feel about black lingerie?”

  Still laughing, she nudged him on the leg with her sock-covered foot. “You just can’t let that go, can you? How do I feel about black lingerie? I think it goes well with my coloring. Can we move on from that subject now?”

  He wouldn’t rise to take the bait. “It’s an important one. The fate of nations rest in the balance.”

  “God help them then. Now let’s see. What do I really want in a man?” She tapped her lips and smiled. “I want him to be handsome. of course, with a great body. He doesn’t have to be musclebound but firm abs would be lovely.”

  Max had a six-pack, a requirement in Hollywood, although his weren’t quite as good as Nate’s eight-pack. His friend had taken it to a whole different level for the last Thunder movie.

  “Adonis body,” Max typed. “What else?”

  She grabbed his arm to look at the screen. “Hey, that isn’t what I said. I said he should have a good body.”

  “You said great body.”

  Her eyes widened and she reached over him to get to the keyboard but he moved the laptop out of the way. “Are you going to remember every word I say because it’s annoying. I just want a guy that looks good.”

  Did she think he looked good? Other women did. Casting directors did. But Carrie wasn’t one to follow the herd. Maybe he wasn’t her type. Maybe Tyler was.

  “I’d like it if he slept in the nude,” she stated with a sly smile. “I hate pajamas on men.”

  She lived in Florida where it was warm all year round so getting cold wasn’t an issue.

  He added to the list. “Starkers at bedtime. Okay, next.”

  Giggling, she covered her mouth with her hand. “Starkers. That sounds dirtier than nude.”

  He nodded in agreement. “Art is nude. Pole dancers are starkers.”

  “I don’t want a pole dancing boyfriend.” She elbowed him. “Type nude instead.”

  Backspacing, he fixed the entry. She was picky about this stuff.

  She took another gulp of her wine. “He should be able to cook and clean. I shouldn’t have to do it all. It’s not fair.”

  That ex-fiancé really was a nightmare. “Did Mark make you do all the housework?”

  “He said that because I was home all day I had more time to do it. I never could get him to realize that my home was also my office and I was working. Asshole.”

  “You’re well rid of him. Did he have abs?”

  “No, he didn’t and I wouldn’t have cared if he hadn’t been a douchebag. But if I have a choice, I’m going with the abs next time.”

  Max added her latest request to the list. It was shaping up nicely. “That can’t be all you want. What else?”

  Slumping against the cushions, she seemed lost in thought. “I want him to be smart but not obnoxious. I want him to be funny, but not too funny.”

  Smart and funny. Good choices. Time to kick this game up a notch.

  “How about good in bed? Do you want him to be a good lover?”

  Carrie almost choked on her wine. “That goes without saying. He should be…knowledgeable about where everything is and what to do with it.”

  “He should know where the…doorbell is.”

  Frowning at him, she didn’t seem to get the reference. He hadn’t thought he was being ambiguous. “Doorbell?”

  He waited and then finally her cheeks suffused with heat and she dropped her head into her hands. “I just got that. You are a sick puppy.”

  “I am,” he agreed readily. “So he should be good in bed. A veritable stallion along with all those kind qualities from earlier. What else?”

  She drained her glass and set it on the end table. “I just…”

  When she didn’t continue he tried to prompt her. “You just… what?”

  She looked at him then, her lips turned down and her expression unutterably sad. A moment ago they’d been laughing.

  “I just want a man that loves me more than anything else. Is that too much to ask?”

  It shouldn’t be. But in his experience, it was rare indeed.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Carrie had been on red carpets before but this was the first time any of the cameras would be pointed at her. Not at her specifically, of course. Just in her general direction.

  When she was standing next to Maxwell Hayes.

  Always before she’d been with Paige and they hadn’t had the laser focus on them that she could expect walking the carpet with Max. People were going to be looking at her, judging her, and they weren’t going to be gentle about it. She would be held up next to Max’s ex-girlfriends for comparison and chances were she would be found wanting, at least in the looks department.

  Which is why she’d gone all out and seen a stylist about her dress and hair tonight. Lisa had been friendly but she’d also been a genius. The red dress Carrie ultimately chose wasn’t anything she normally would have worn. First, it was red. Her mother had always told her redheads didn’t wear that so she’d avoided that color like the plague her entire life. Then the first dress Lisa had pulled out had been this crimson number and Carrie had almost run from the building. The stylist had patiently explained it was all in the shade of red that made the difference, and she’d certainly been right.

  The dress was deceptively simple, off the shoulder with a ruched skirt that ended a few inches above her knees. A fashion genius, Lisa had accessorized the outfit with gold heels and bold jewelry. A sleek ponytail swept her long, thick hair off her neck and kept it under control while artfully applied makeup accentuated her best features. Looking in the mirror it was like a stranger was staring back at her.

  A woman that just might be able to hold her own at the charity event tonight. A spray of perfume in her cleavage and a tube of lipstick in her tiny clutch purse and she was ready to go.

  Remembering Paige’s exercises to make herself calm, Carrie listened to the thud of her heartbeat as she closed her eyes and pictured a sandy beach with the rhythmic waves rolling in, one after the other under the warm sun. Seagulls soared overhead, dipping and circling, finally diving down…and stealing her
hot dog right out of her hand.

  Okay, that didn’t go so well. Puppies. She’d think about puppies. Cute little balls of fur that barked and rang doorbells.

  Puppies don’t ring doorbells.

  But movie stars do. When she opened the door she almost couldn’t catch her breath. Max looked devastatingly handsome in his tuxedo, his dark hair tamed into submission and combed back from his chiseled face. His light blue eyes looked even bluer tonight but that might also have to do with the fact that he wasn’t angry or frustrated with her. For the past two days they’d gotten along quite well.

  “Don’t you look gorgeous,” he said in that smooth as silk accent that could send her pulse into overdrive. “Twirl for me, love. Let me see that dress.”

  Of course, it was the dress. She dutifully turned in a circle, letting him see every side of the outfit. He whistled, his gaze warm and appreciative. Damn her fair skin, she couldn’t help the blush that crawled its way up her chest all the way to her eyebrows. Now her hair, skin, and dress were a matched set.

  “You look stunning. The paps are going to love you.” He held open the door for her. “Are you ready to go?”

  Taking a deep breath, she nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s do this.”

  She locked the door behind her and followed him to the car parked at the curb. It was a simple fundraiser tonight so he’d refused a limousine. A car service would do just as well. They could drink without worrying about driving themselves home later.

  He helped her into the back seat and sat beside her as the vehicle smoothly pulled into traffic. It wouldn’t take long to get to their destination – a posh hotel in the center of the city.

  Carefully she focused on her breathing, hoping to slow her galloping heart. Breathe in for ten seconds, breathe out for ten. Repeat.

  “You’re going to do fine.” His deep baritone brought her out of her reverie. “I’ll be right next to you the entire time and I won’t leave your side all evening. I promise.”