Better than the Book: A Romantic Comedy (Charitable Endeavors Book 4)

by M. E. Carter

  I flip my laptop back open and go back to my emails, keeping an ear open to everything around me. Scrolling, I almost miss it. The low timbre of his voice. The way my skin peppers with a chill as he speaks the first words.

  “She’s wrong. No matter how much my mother beats into my head that my ideas, no, my dreams aren’t good enough, I have to remember, she’s wrong.”

  Holy shit. It’s Hunter. Hunter Stone. My Hunter.

  He’s here. In the room. The man who has invaded my dreams and captured my heart is here standing in the middle of our rehearsal space reciting the monologue from Act Two, Scene Five.

  I lean closer to Manuel. “What is happening?” I hiss, totally confused.

  “Shhh.” He waves me off. “I’m trying to concentrate on our new leading man.”

  “Our what?” I screech before smacking a hand over my mouth.

  He shushes me again and leaves me no choice but to turn back to Hunter, who has taken one step closer. My heart is beating so hard, I’m sure it can be heard by the cast. Oh boy. So fast. Am I breathing? Yes. In for three and out for three. I watch and listen as he recites the words I’ve heard for weeks but never felt like I do in this moment.

  “My life has been unfulfilled. Dreams are nothing without believing I can make them come true. The problem is, my mother wasn’t wrong.”

  Wait. That’s not his line.

  I grab the script and flip quickly to the right page to see if I missed a change.

  “In fact, my mother is the one who reminded me of my passion. The person who finally convinced me to get it right.”

  I skim quickly.

  Nope. No changes. He’s gone off script. Manuel isn’t stopping him and no one else is confused. What is he doing?

  Looking from the script and back to Hunter, he seems closer than he was seconds ago.

  “My world isn’t complete. My dreams aren’t in Hollywood. My desire isn’t to rule the small screen. My mother was right. My passion is right here in New York City.”

  Hunter takes another step forward. His eyes are locked on mine. There is no hesitation as he speaks. No fear in his voice. But I’m afraid. Terrified to hope he’s here, not just for the theater but for me.

  “Being an actor is what I’ve always wanted to be. But somehow in the process I lost who I am. Then I met a wild-haired blonde, with her lists and calendars, who reminded me of what’s truly important.”

  Oh yeah. He’s totally off script now. Unless this is a different play than I signed up for, which isn’t a bad thing. I like this new version. It is starting to sound more like real life.

  Taking another step closer, Hunter continues. “I’m an actor. Always have been. But, it wasn’t until I came here with you that I realized I can be the man I want to be.”

  Behind Hunter, just over his right shoulder, I spot Jeremiah. He has a huge smile on his face as he sashays dramatically to my side and reaches his hand out for me to take.

  I chance a quick glance at Manuel who is smirking as well. It finally hits me that he set all of this up. His unnecessary task to personally talk to Cheryl and Sal, who I assume are also co-conspirators, so Hunter could sneak in makes more sense. His lackadaisical attitude about our injured leading man makes sense since he’s already hired Hunter.

  The puzzle pieces fall together in my brain. Hunter is moving to New York and now I’m being wooed by him.

  I have a quick fangirl moment where in my head I scream, “OHMYGOD I’M BEING WOOED BY HUNTER STONE!”

  But then I look up and all I see is Hunter—the man who changed my life and inspired me to follow my dreams and maybe, just maybe, be the love of my life.

  Taking Jeremiah’s hand, I let him escort me to center stage, or center room, where Hunter is waiting for me. As I approach him, I note the way he inhales slowly, his hands fisting and flexing by his side. Hunter Stone is nervous.

  Standing in front of him, I bite my lip with my own insecurity. Could this be real? Is he really here for me? The questions in my brain are endless as I wait to see how this plays out. But when Hunter takes my hands in his, a calm comes over me.

  “Celeste, I left before we could talk about us. That was one of the biggest mistakes of my life.”

  I suck in a breath. That’s not what I was expecting him to say, but I like hearing it.

  “It’s been a few years since I’ve been around someone who likes me for me. Hunter the guy who eats too many Ding Dongs, enjoys a good egg sandwich for lunch, and mixes up his Tylenol with Ambien.”

  In the background I hear someone say, “I bet there’s a good story to that one.”

  I ignore them, totally focused on the man in front of me.

  “When I’m with you, I feel like I can be myself totally and completely. And I want you to feel like you can be totally and completely yourself with me.”

  He pulls us closer and that’s when I feel the tears begin to prick my eyes.

  “If you’ve already moved on, I’ll understand. I should have thought through more carefully what I was doing, but I hope that what we have isn’t only one-sided. I left before I could tell you how much you mean to me. I want nothing more than to be with you. In front of all these people, I’m asking you Celeste Puh… mker,” he mumbles the rest of my last name, not even coming close to the pronunciation. “So, I’m asking you, in front of all these people. The same people who better not be making a secret video to sell to the paparazzi or I’m not holding up my end of the bargain and I won’t be springing for drinks tonight.”

  “Don’t screw this up for me, I’m poor! I need free drinks!” someone yells and the rest of the cast laughs. I don’t blame them. It makes me giggle too, the extra squint in my eyes forcing the tears down my cheeks. Hunter gently brushes them away with his thumbs.

  “If you’ve moved on and all we can be is friends, that’s okay because that’s my fault. But if you are willing to take a chance on me… on us…” He pauses and takes a deep breath, probably to squelch his own nerves. “I’m falling in love with you, Celeste. It started the moment you handed me that playbill, and it’s only grown with every minute we spent together and every minute beyond that. So if it’s okay with you, I’d really like to be with you. Only you. If you’ll have me.”

  At this point, I can’t stop the tears. They just keep coming. And then the laughs begin. And before I know it, my arms are around his neck and I’m hugging him as tightly as I can as I laugh and cry, cheers and applause breaking out around us.

  “I’m falling in love with you too,” I say through my tears. Even with the noise around us, I can still hear his sigh of relief.

  We pull away, still smiling and all the questions I have start pouring out.

  “Are you really staying?”

  He nods, still holding my hands.

  “But what about Prince of Darkness?”

  He shrugs sheepishly. “I renegotiated my contract to only shooting a few episodes every season so I can make New York my home base. And when Manuel told me this part unexpectedly opened up…”

  I whip my head over to gape at Manuel, who winks at me.

  “… It all just fell into place.”

  “I bet the producers were thrilled to hear the fabulous Hunter Stone joined the cast,” I tease.

  He smiles shyly. “They may have mentioned something about the marketing being much easier now.”

  I scratch at the scruff on his face. It’s not as long as it was during our vacation, but it’s nice to see he’s letting himself relax more. I can already tell this transition is the right thing for him.

  “There’s only one problem.”

  I furrow my brow. “What’s that?

  “You never did get your interview.”

  I smile. “I don’t need the interview. I got something even better.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I got you.”

  I reach up on my tiptoes and kiss him, not even caring who sees.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Hunter

&n
bsp; Two years later

  I’m too young for heart palpitations. Right? I’m barely in my thirties and yet, I’m pretty certain it’s time to call a cardiologist. Who knew being a producer would be the only role I’ve played that sends me into a panic?

  I’ve been live on national television, presenting our industry’s highest award and didn’t have the level of nerves I do tonight. Opening night on Broadway. My mom told me it is because this isn’t about me. This is about Celeste. My amazing, talented, and beautiful girlfriend. She may be right. Watching your own dreams come true is much less nerve-wracking than watching the one you’re in love with reach theirs.

  Celeste’s play turned out so much better than I anticipated, and as soon as I read it I knew it would be perfect for Broadway. I immediately started making calls and after utilizing some of the contacts I’ve made over the years, I found quite a few theater influencers who agreed.

  I know it’s practically unheard of for an unknown play to make its debut under the big lights of the most iconic stages in the world, but if anyone deserves it to happen, it’s my girlfriend.

  I watch Celeste as she stands before a member of the press. Confident and completely in her element as she smiles and talks to the people who are bombarding her with questions. She amazes me. When I reassessed my life a couple years ago and took a leap of faith that she loved me as much as I loved her, I had no way of knowing how much our lives would change.

  Coming back to New York was the single best decision of my life. In the two years since I relocated, Celeste and I have moved in together and settled into domestic bliss. Well, as much bliss as a guy who likes to lounge around in his underwear reading scripts and a woman who lives by lists can cohabitate.

  Only blocks from her old apartment with Anna, our place is newer and bigger. Thank goodness. I’m not a small guy and that shower of theirs left a lot to be desired in the way of space. While my girl originally balked at the idea of my paying our rent, she relented when she saw the second bedroom I had turned into an office. It was in that room that she put the finishing touches on her play. The same story she was originally determined to make into a screenplay. I’m not sure what changed her mind about that part, but I like to think I had something to do with figuring things out.

  “Hunter!” The reporters are relentless. As much as I try to stay in the shadows, they won’t leave me alone. Too bad for them, my eyes are only on Celeste.

  Rolling her eyes, she nods her head for me to join her. Taking a few steps, I stand beside her, wrapping my hand around her waist and plastering that Hollywood smile I perfected long ago.

  “Hunter. Congratulations on all the Oscar buzz. You must be thrilled!”

  This is why I was standing in the background. I didn’t want to take away from Celeste’s night. The independent film I worked on last year has been cleaning up at the film festivals. The buzz for the film, the director, and even my acting is all anyone can talk about. There are whispers we’ll be up for the biggest award in our industry. I’m not holding my breath, though. This industry is amazing but it’s also fickle. Anything can happen.

  “Jacqueline, you know I don’t listen to the gossip. Tonight is about Celeste and her hard work.”

  “And yours. As producer, this is as much your night as it is hers.”

  Inhaling, I flex my hand on Celeste’s waist, but she shifts so her hand is on my chest and her eyes capturing mine. Her smile centers me, diffusing the frustration I feel. Keeping her body flush to mine, she turns only her head back to Jacqueline.

  “You’re right. Tonight is a dream come true. What writer doesn’t dream of having their story come alive? But all I did was write the play. Hunter and everyone else involved in this production deserve all the credit. We’ve been so blessed to work with such amazing people. It’s truly an honor to stand here tonight with all of these talented people as all of our hard work comes to fruition.”

  If I didn’t already love this woman more than I thought was humanly possible, I’d be a goner right now. Not only did she selflessly give credit to everyone in the production, she put the woman trying to make this about anything other than Celeste in her place. I can’t wait to get her home and to our bed where I can fully show her how much she astounds me.

  Thanking Jacqueline for her time, we move down the red carpet, stopping for photos when prompted. The press in New York is a far cry from what I experienced in Los Angeles. Eddie was right, Prince of Darkness dominated the ratings the last two seasons and my limited appearances have somehow made it the show to watch. Viewers have been chomping at the bit, hoping my character, Nikolai, will appear. Which is what has made it almost impossible to spend any time there. The paparazzi are absolutely relentless. New York may be a bustling city, but somehow I still get to live at a slower pace here.

  Thankfully my family accepts my gifts more easily than my girlfriend and have gladly taken my plane tickets to come for visits. Even Eddie has spent more time on the East Coast, making rumblings of moving his family here for the culture. Personally, I think it’s the pizza and hot dog trucks that pique his interest.

  When we approach a reporter I recognize, a couple turns to exit the interview spot and I realize it’s my buddy Jonah. When he sees my face, he does a double take before offering me his hand and pulling me into a hug.

  “This is fucking crazy, man. Who knew New York would be more pumped for a red carpet than Los Angeles?”

  “Jonah, good to see you. It’s a different vibe here for sure. You remember, Celeste, right?”

  Nodding, he accepts the quick hug before my girl turns her attention to his wife. When his attention is back to me, I ask, “How’s it going? I didn’t expect to see you here since you never called me back after we talked about that script.”

  “Oh that P.O.S.? I passed on it. You were right, it was a mess, and we’d spend more time rewriting than shooting. I’m still in post-production in that drama I told you about.”

  “Still?” I ask as someone nudges me to the side. Our foursome moves, allowing the next group to step up for an interview.

  “Yeah. I can’t seem to find the right song for the arc. It’s one of the reasons we came here. I’m supposed to meet a few producers and see if there is some untapped talent I’m missing out on.”

  Talent. Untapped. I may have what he needs. Slipping my phone from my pocket, I pull up Anna’s page on the Literary Arts website and copy the link before texting it to him.

  “Take a look at that. It’s Celeste’s best friend, and she’s ridiculously talented.”

  Nodding, he thanks me and then excuses himself and his wife. Celeste and I wait for our time with the reporter. Then, she does exactly what I expect and why, even though I’ll never admit it, she’s my favorite reporter.

  “Celeste Pumperkin, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Tell me about this dress. It’s to die for.” Never once does Barbara Wells give me the time of day. No, her attention is on the woman of the night and nothing makes me happier.

  • • •

  “Help me. If I have to take another step in these death traps, I may die.”

  I chuckle at her antics. “Babe, I’m the actor. It’s my job to be dramatic, not yours.” Celeste smacks me in the arm as I bend down to slip off her shoes. Lifting her feet to my lap, I massage the arches while the car creeps through Manhattan traffic and in the direction of our apartment.

  Sighing, she settles into the opposite end of the seat, her eyes closed and a look of pure bliss on her face. The drive isn’t too long but enough that I think she’s fallen asleep. When the car comes to a stop she groans and shifts her body, slipping the shoes back on.

  I thank the driver and lead my girl into the building. We take the elevator to the third floor and exit, walking hand in hand to our apartment. Well, I’m walking. She’s hobbling. The moment she steps into the space, Celeste kicks off her shoes and makes a beeline for the kitchen. I follow suit, shedding my tie and jacket along the way. When I reach the island, I lean again
st the counter, my eyes on her as she rummages through the refrigerator.

  “What are you doing?”

  Never turning to face me, she says, “Getting food. I’m freaking starving. I think… yep here we go.” Pulling a storage bag with leftover pizza from the shelf, she unzips it and takes a huge bite of a slice, making me chuckle.

  Taking a step forward, I steal a piece from the bag and leave her alone to satisfy her hunger as I move through the space to our bedroom. Moving quickly to my dresser, I glance to the door to confirm I’m alone before opening the bottom drawer. Most people would hide a small square jewelry box in the top drawer but I’m not taking any chances. Celeste isn’t nosy but with my luck, the one time she puts laundry away she’d find my surprise. Sighing in relief that the ring is still nestled in its place, I close the drawer again and whisper, “It’s almost time and then you will make your debut.”

  I have no shame that I’m talking to a ring sitting in a drawer covered by my rattiest t-shirts. Truthfully, I check on the box a few times each week. I’ve not wanted to take away from all that Celeste has worked for with the production by adding an engagement to her already lengthy list. So, I’ve waited and when the time is right, I’ll know it.

  Stripping out of the confines of my suit, I hang it in the closet before going about brushing my teeth before Celeste joins me. Gone is the bag of pizza and in its place, signs of exhaustion from the night.

  “Did you finish off all the pizza?” I greet her as I pull her flush to my body.

  “No. I left one slice. I’m not a monster.”

  Placing a quick kiss to her lips, I step aside to allow her access to the bathroom. Once I’m settled in our bed, I wait for her to join me. It isn’t long before she exits the bathroom wearing only a pair of panties and a tank top. Goddamn. She’s gorgeous. Her hair is down, wild and loose like I like it. I can make out the silhouette of her curves beneath the tank and I have to remind my dick she’s exhausted.