Mustang Hollywood: A standalone, small town, enemies-to-lovers romance (Mustang Ranch Book 3)

by Eva Haining

  “It’s so good to see a friendly face.”

  “Jasp! I’ve been worried sick. What the hell is going on?”

  “Tell me you don’t believe it.”

  “Of course not. As much as I like to envisage multiple naked women writhing on a bed… in my head, you’re not there. I know you well enough to say there’s no way the rumors are true.” I grip her hand, taking a deep, shaky breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

  “Thank God. I’ve been blackballed by most of the major players. I can almost stomach it, but if you thought badly of me… I’d be gutted.”

  “I’m always in your corner, babe. What can I do? I could talk to the press. Come to think of it, why the hell haven’t you set the record straight?”

  “Ethan. He thinks there’s a right time to do it. I think he’s full of shit.”

  “I could’ve told you that years ago.”

  We while away the hours, chatting about anything and everything. I’ve missed this, all of it—my friend, the coffee, my city. There’s a sense of wonder, an air of possibility you can’t find anywhere else. LA speaks to me on a molecular level.

  It’s not until I’ve pried into every aspect of her life that she turns the tables on me. Not the shit with Cece, but the aftermath. She’d never ask, but I tell her anyway. I want her to know what really happened. The details I’ve been sworn not to divulge yet.

  “Holy shit! I can’t believe she’s been able to pin this on you.”

  “Well, she has, and now I’m stuck in Texas with a movie to make, no leading lady, a complete rewrite of the script, and I’m bankrolling the project.” Her jaw drops at that last part.

  “You’re what? Why would you do that?”

  “Because I believe in myself. No one else seems to anymore. The location is amazing, and the guys that own it are putting up the rest of the money. I have to pull this off.” The cogs are turning. Hazel always gets the same puzzled look on her face when she’s hatching a scheme. “What? You think I’m crazy?”

  “It’s completely crazy and brilliant. I believe in you, Jasp. Always have. When do you start shooting?”

  “As soon as I find an actress.”

  “I have a few months off right now before my next movie. I was planning to chill and travel, but for you, I’ll make an exception. Why don’t you let me produce for you?” She can’t be serious. Hazel is a huge name in the business. With her attached to the project, my chances of success grow exponentially.

  “I’d love to be the kind of friend who says, I couldn’t possibly make you give up your vacation time for me, but right now, I need all the allies I can get. Are you sure?”

  “Yes! We’ll have a great time, make an amazing movie, and we can drink shots and hit on country girls. It’ll be fun.”

  “Maybe for you. I’m swearing off women.”

  “More for me!” She extends her hand. “Shake on it.”

  “You’re a lifesaver, Haze. Seriously, the best!” I practically yank her across the table into a hug.

  “But, you need to find an actress pronto. The longer it takes, the less time we have to make this happen.”

  “I’m booking you a ticket to fly out in two weeks. I’ll be ready by then. The script will be with you in a few days. It’s almost finished. I know it’s going to be down to the wire… this isn’t normally how I go about making a movie, but we can pull it off, right?”

  “We have to.”

  By the time Hazel and I leave our favorite haunt, I’m on cloud nine. There’s light at the end of the tunnel. With her name and wicked talent on this movie, it’ll attract more interest. Maybe I’ll be able to get an actress with a little more clout. I’d take a B-lister at this point. Better than a complete nobody.

  Better than Maisie Bryant.

  Chapter Seven

  JASPER

  Are there no good actresses left in Hollywood, or is it that they just don’t want to audition for me?

  I’ve seen twenty different actresses this week and done callbacks with three. They look the part and would be good enough if this were still a Hallmark budget movie. There was a kernel of chemistry with one of them, and the other who seemed good in the first audition was a big dull dud the second time around. Ethan has been pushing for me to bring Maisie out to audition, but I point-blank refused. Instead, I had Jack fly in for lucky girl number three. If he likes her, then she’ll be the one who gets plucked from obscurity and thrust into the limelight.

  The script was finalized last night, and it turned out great. As I read through the full manuscript, I could picture so many spots on the ranch that will make for the perfect backdrop to an epic love story. What started out as a culmination of cheesy clichés has now been transformed into a movie I’m excited to star in.

  When I arrive at the office, Ethan and Jack are deep in conversation, conspiring against me, no doubt. The moment Jack landed last night, he was on at me to reconsider having Maisie star alongside me. She’s been working with the scriptwriter this week, even though she quit the last time I saw her. Pointing out this small detail didn’t seem to deter him, so I leave them to their plotting and go in search of coffee.

  By the time I get back, my soon-to-be co-star has arrived to wow us with the best performance of her life—I hope. She’s turned up in LA’s answer to cowgirl chic, which I can now attest is nothing like the real thing. If she’d come in ratty shorts, a white t-shirt, boots, and her hair in a top knot, I’d find her more believable.

  “Hey, Juniper. Come on back.” They say don’t judge a book by its cover, but right now I’m telling myself, don’t judge an actress by her name—starring Juniper. Up close, her makeup is over the top. She’s hot, but trying way too hard. Her face would literally melt off in Kingsbury Falls. She won’t be in charge of any of those details on set, so I just need to focus on her acting ability. The rest can be fixed.

  “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Savage.” No. Don’t flutter your eyelashes at me. I’m not looking for a fangirl.

  “Did my agent send you through a scene to work on?”

  “Yes. I have it right here.” Clutching already dog-eared pages to her chest, I’m assuming she’s been practicing.

  “Can I take a quick look? I forgot to check what they want to run.”

  “Of course.” Handing it over, her cheeks flush when our fingers touch. Normally, I’d be flattered, but my recent experience with Cece has me on edge. Nothing can jeopardize the success of this movie, especially my co-star crushing on me.

  I hate Jack and Ethan.

  They chose the last scene I ran with Maisie. The rational part of my brain understands why. Jack wants to compare and contrast, but therein lies the problem. I can hazard a guess at how our chemistry translates, but our distaste for each other made it easier to lose myself in the role. The way this girl is staring at me like I’m dessert is already off-putting. Push past it. She’s a better option than Miss Kingsbury Falls herself. I’ve seen her resume, and she’s actually had paid acting jobs before. This puts her head and shoulders above her competition.

  Jack and Ethan stand to greet her before moving to the conference room we have set up. A few pleasantries and we dive right in, but she’s nervous, her hands shaking as she stumbles over her lines.

  “Let’s take it from the top. Take a deep breath. We all want you to do well. Just focus on me. Those guys wouldn’t know their ass from their elbow when it comes to acting.” I think I just ramped up her nerves rather than calming them.

  “Okay.” Attempting to shake it off, she closes her eyes, slowing her breath for a few seconds before launching into the dialogue. It’s working. She’s much better. There’s a glimmer of hope I can make this work.

  By the time we get to the kiss, she’s vibing with her character, letting me pull her toward me, her sickly, sweet perfume assaulting my senses before our lips meet. I feel nothing, no spark, no twitch—all business. Just the way I like it. This woman has zero effect on me. She’s perfect for the role.
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br />   “That was great,” Ethan chimes in. Jack is noticeably quiet.

  “Thanks. I love Anna’s character. She’s so strong and self-assured. I’d love to bring her to life.” Her enthusiasm is admirable, but she doesn’t have to sell me, she was by far the best audition.

  Ethan moves to shake her hand.

  “We’ll be in touch. Thank you so much for coming in.”

  She turns to me.

  “It was a pleasure, Mr. Savage. I hope to see you again soon.” There’s a hint of innuendo that I choose to ignore.

  “My agent will be in touch. Thanks, Juniper.” I let Ethan accompany her to the lobby, my gaze fixed on Jack.

  I know what he’s going to say, and I don’t want to hear it.

  “She was good.” I’m surprised. I wasn’t expecting that.

  “Yes, I think she’d be good for the role.”

  “She’d be fine.” Ugh. Here it comes.

  “Fine?”

  “Come on, J.J. You know as well as I do. Are you really going to make me say it?”

  “Say what?” I play dumb.

  “You’re putting your neck on the line for this movie. Don’t you want to have the best actress possible? Juniper would be fine, but Maisie… with your help, she could be electrifying on screen.”

  “She’s never worked on a movie before. Why would I put my faith in her?”

  “Because the chemistry between you two is undeniable. You might not like it or her, but that’s acting. We have a real shot here to do something amazing. Plucking a hometown girl from obscurity and turning her into a star… that’s box-office gold, but you already know this, so I don’t know why you’re fighting it.”

  “I don’t like her. She’s opinionated, stubborn, sassy… and not it a good way. She’s…”

  “A real-life southern cowgirl.” Fuck. I hate that he’s right.

  When Ethan reappears, he looks to Jack, an imperceptible nod passing between them.

  “So, this Maisie girl?”

  “Don’t you start. You haven’t even seen her.”

  “Jack’s told me enough.”

  “Juniper was great. Why aren’t we focusing on that?”

  “J.J., the chemistry wasn’t amazing.”

  “It’s never going to seem authentic in an audition.”

  “I call bullshit.”

  “Then, bring her to Kingsbury Falls. Let’s shoot a scene on location and see how it translates.” Jack eyes me warily.

  “Fine. On one condition. You shoot the same scene with Maisie. If Ethan, Hazel, and I all agree, then you have to respect the decision.” It’s a gamble, but I can stack the deck in my favor.

  “Deal. Get her on a plane by Friday and send her the scene by the stream.” I stride out before they get a chance to bombard me with anything else. I’ve got a cast and crew to reassemble. The second we have a firm decision on Juniper, I want to be ready to roll.

  I have one more night in LA before I return to the seventh circle of hell. Thankfully, Cece seems to have crawled back under her rock, and I’ve been able to enjoy my home the past few days. The interior designer will be here the moment I leave to overhaul every room in the house and is under strict instructions not to let Cece anywhere near the place. I’ll have a security guard here twenty-four-seven to ensure she stays gone.

  Tonight, I’m going to forget it all for a few hours and have some fun. Something that’s been sorely lacking in my life lately. Hazel is taking me to a new club that she assures me is discreet. Some big-shot nightclub owner from New York has just opened his first location in the City of Angels. She got VIP tickets, and I hope being seen with her behaving myself will start mending my current image.

  Everyone loves Hazel. She’s no angel, but she pulls off hot, femme fatale with finesse. There’s not a man in Hollywood who wouldn’t like a shot at attempting to turn her into a snake charmer, and I’ve lost count of how many straight women she’s bedded. I’ll seem tame by comparison, providing I keep my nose clean.

  I arrange for a car to take us wherever we end up, unwilling to drive when I have a rare chance to go drinking with my favorite person on the planet. Pulling up outside her house, she doesn’t disappoint, stepping out the door looking like she could grace the catwalks of Paris and Milan. She’s stunning, and she’s definitely going to cockblock me tonight.

  “Jasp, are you ready to party, friend? I’m planning to get d-runk!” I pull her in beside me, wrapping my arm around her shoulder.

  “I’m ready to let loose. I could use some no-strings fun.”

  “Then, let’s hit it. First stop, Viper 2.0.”

  “How’d you score the tickets?”

  “Friend of a friend. Logan is a music manager. His friend, Carter, runs some of the best clubs in Manhattan. We actually went to one the last time we were there together, although I doubt you remember most of it. You were three sheets to the wind that night.”

  “Sounds like me, but I need to be a little more conservative tonight. I don’t need my drunk ass all over the papers tomorrow.”

  “Buzzkill.”

  The car swings right, and a line snaking around the block comes into view. Hundreds of eager patrons waiting to dance and drink their cares away with LA’s elite, budding actors and actresses anticipating serendipitous meetings that will lead them to fame and fortune. Every bartender, waitress, dogwalker, and nanny I meet wants me to keep them in mind for my next project. It’s one of the things I haven’t missed in the least.

  Opening the car door, we’re inundated with cameras before the photographers even know who they’re getting a shot of. The second they realize who we are, their shutter speed increases tenfold. Bouncers unhook thick red ropes at the sight of us—no need to confirm our names. This town is built on notoriety.

  Hazel grabs my hand, dragging me through blacked-out glass doors and into the murky depths of this new fantasia. The bass is so loud it rattles my ribcage with every thunderous beat, the atmosphere electric with the glorious hum of late-night debauchery in the City of Angels. There’s nothing quite like it.

  This place is off the hook. There’s a quiet, unassuming entrance to the VIP lounge, which has views of the entire place—all the energy of a crowded club with the privacy of your own living room. There are some familiar faces, but for the most part, Hazel and I keep to ourselves. With a tequila shooter in one hand and my best friend in the other, we find a quiet corner to soak it all in.

  “So, I read the script. I have some ideas, but I’m looking forward to seeing this picturesque ranch you told me about. Jack emailed me earlier today touting some local girl for the role of Anna.”

  “I bet he was.”

  “Your face is telling me she’s not your first choice.” What would normally be a measured conversation is reduced to screams above the music.

  “She’s too opinionated.”

  “Since when did that matter. Is she good? You’ve been working with her. Is she a fit for the part?”

  “Yes… but the girl I auditioned this week could be just as good.” Hazel can call bullshit with me by a twitch of my eyebrow or the way I smile.

  “If I watch you run a scene with both of them, and I promise to tell you who I feel would be better for the role, will you take my advice? My only horse in this race is you. I want to help you make the best movie possible, but I need to know you can be objective. Can you?”

  As I ponder her question considering if I can be detached and weigh the options from a purely business standpoint, I’m given a reprieve. A guy I’ve never met before approaches, his hand extended in greeting.

  “Welcome to Viper 2.0, I’m Carter de Rossi, the owner.” I shake his hand as a stunning woman appears at his side. “This is my wife, Addi.”

  “Thanks for having us. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His wife drinks in the length of me with a mischievous grin.

  “You’re even hotter in real life.” Carter looks to his wife with dark eyes.

  “Don’t make me take you to my offi
ce and remind you whose wife you are, Tesoro.” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

  “Promises, promises, Mr. de Rossi.” I instantly like these two. Genuine in a sea of artifice.

  “This is my friend, Hazel.”

  “Hazel Irvine? Logan’s friend?” The devil is in the details. This guy is good, and I’m impressed. “Pleasure to meet you. Logan has nothing but praise for you.” It’s nice to be able to stand back and not be the center of attention. Hazel is quick to respond.

  “You own some of the finest clubs in Manhattan. What made you decide to open up shop on the West Coast?”

  “I’ve taken a backseat the past few years, diversifying. I saw a gap in the market here in LA. There’s a need for real privacy for people like yourselves. Somewhere you can come and unwind, knowing the staff is ready and willing to keep your activities within the four walls of this building.”

  “Sounds too good to be true.” I’m cynical. There’s no such thing as absolute privacy for celebrities. It’s the nature of the beast.

  “This is a tried and tested system in Manhattan. I assure you, the indulgence of New York’s elite has been my bread and butter for a decade now. Should you wish to let loose in any of my VIP lounges, it will be a safe haven.”

  “Are we talking general drunken behavior or kink?” I’m intrigued.

  “Whatever floats your boat. Don’t take my word for it. Next time you’re in New York, come and see me. I guarantee you won’t be disappointed.” He slips business cards from his pocket, giving Hazel and me one each.

  “I might take you up on that.”

  “Please do. It was great to meet you. I won’t take up any more of your evening. Relax and enjoy. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to remind my wife why she married me.”

  “Congratulations on this place.” I’m mesmerized as he strides off, his wife at his side, undressing him with her eyes before they’re out of sight. I’d like to pick Mr. de Rossi’s brain sometime. Not for his business acumen which is evident in our plush surroundings, but because I’d like to know the secret to finding a woman who’ll look at me the way his wife looks at him.