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Hollywood Ever After Page 3
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“Well, it’s kind of…in development.” Her face pinched up and she took a deep breath, as if bracing for something. “It’s the last manuscript you sent to me, actually.”
I stared at her, waiting for the punchline. Silence followed. “Mine?”
Shannon sipped her drink, giving me time to recover from her announcement.
I stared at her, whispering, “The last thing I sent to you was my story. About me and…”
Chapter Two
I felt my throat constrict, unable to speak the words sitting heavily on my chest. All I could say was, “I wrote that to get it out of my head. Like therapy.” She couldn’t be serious. “Not for publishing.”
“That’s the thing, Claire.” Shannon was looking at me. “You’re not the only woman that’s been used as a doormat, mentally and physically, by her husband. You give a powerful, raw voice to women in your situation. It’s really good.”
I shook my head, putting my face in my hands and sighing. “Shannon…” Publishing wasn’t an option. Daniel, my ex-husband, would be furious. He might even try to… No, I won’t let him. Never again.
I shivered. I couldn’t find the words to explain how completely uncomfortable I felt, how wrong this entire conversation was.
She gave up, taking a long sip of her drink. “Not the right time.”
Eager to end the discussion, I agreed. “No, it’s not. But I’m not sure there will ever be a right time for that conversation.” The memory of Daniel’s face, twisted in rage, made me shiver again. My voice was unsteady. “But thanks. I guess it’s flattering that you think it’s worth considering.”
Shannon looked at me for a long moment. I waited, but she just shrugged and looked around with a small smile. Then she laughed softly, nudging me. “He really likes you.”
“What? Who?” I asked, looking around, curious.
“Mr. Wiley. He’s been totally checking you out.” She poked me in the side when I went rigid. “Told you you looked hot!”
“Where did that come from?” I blushed fiercely. “He’s so…” I paused as I ran through a mental checklist of all the things Josh Wiley was: handsome, thoughtful, talented, and intense. “Young,” I finished.
“He’s twenty-eight, hardly a kid and totally legal. He’s not a big ladies’ man around town, but he’s been seriously eyeing you.” She arched an eyebrow. “Not that I’m saying insanely gratuitous sex with an energetic and virile young man with no strings attached is what you should do. I’d never say that.”
My entire face and every inch of exposed skin grew hot. “You’re shameless.”
“Maybe.” She smiled, then changed the subject. “Are you cold?”
I shook my head, my mind racing to keep up with her.
“So what have you been thinking?” She regarded me over the rim of her drink. “About life? Your plans?”
“Well…” I considered. “Continuing as I have been for now. The school would like me to teach full time next year.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “But that’s not what you said you wanted. And an elementary teacher’s salary can’t go far with two kids.” She regarded me with slightly narrowed eyes. “You could come to work here. I happen to know people. That helps. There’s also the possibility of getting published or optioning a manuscript. You’d get paid—pretty well, too.”
“Getting paid to do something you really enjoy? Seems almost criminal.”
Victor’s voice interrupted our conversation. “So I’m a criminal?” He was followed by a few others. And Josh.
I tried, without much success, to keep from staring at Josh, who sat gracefully on a chaise across from me and Shannon. Directly in my line of sight.
I smiled, shaking my head. “No, I—”
“She was trying to convince me not to pay her to do a job that she’s perfectly suited for.” Shannon shrugged.
“Never say no to money. Unless it’s for something illegal,” Victor added.
Shannon quipped playfully, “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe not illegal, but there are some things that are just so wrong.”
“So I shouldn’t take money for illegal activities, or for things that are so wrong they should be illegal?” I raised an eyebrow in question, sipping my drink.
“Sounds like a solid foundation for career development,” Josh said, looking slightly horrified by the line of conversation.
Victor handed Shannon a drink. “Have you heard the sequel buzz?”
Shannon winked at me. “Uh, no, I’m working hard right now to pitch this project I’m psyched about.”
“Really?” Victor leaned forward.
“Just in the outline stages for film right now, but it’s a character piece. A severely broken woman escapes her personal prison, becoming empowered in her circumstances and taking control of her life. No butt-kicking or anything, just an awakening to self-worth.”
“Could be fascinating,” Josh commented, his eyes coming to rest on me now and again.
I stared into my glass and tried not to have a panic attack. I listened to her take on my life. “It’s been done before. Sounds boring to me,” I mumbled, more loudly than I intended.
Shannon laughed aloud. “Says the inspiration.”
“A reluctant muse?” Josh asked.
“She had to ply me with alcohol before she dared to mention it.” I made the mistake of looking at him. My eyes seemed to get tangled up with his.
Josh leaned forward. “Curious.” He radiated a dangerous amount of heat.
“Not really. Nothing of interest, nothing to warrant any curiosity,” I argued.
“It’s not always easy to see oneself clearly.” Josh’s voice was soft, considering. I turned my eyes back to my glass, attempting to end his visual assessment. “And I disagree. I find you very interesting. An intriguing mystery,” he murmured, so softly no one but me could hear him. He sat back, his eyes sparkling as I shifted awkwardly in the chair.
Shannon was chattering on about the lack of good stories in today’s films. Was she goading me? I intentionally tuned out the conversation. Why would anyone here be interested in my pathetic story? Even I was barely interested in it and I was living it.
Josh was staring at my leg. I was wedged into the chair, one leg tucked under me, the other dangling with my toes tracing the flooring of the deck. His eyes traveled slowly up, from my toes, along my calf and, slowly, to my knee. He smiled slightly when he realized I was watching him. His cheeks were flushed and he arched an unapologetic eyebrow. I took a sip of my drink as a diversion. His eyes fell to my lips, his jaw tightening. I couldn’t breathe.
“Jennifer Fleming, Claire Collins. Claire, Jennifer.” Shannon nudged me, forcing me to respond to the young woman standing before me.
I smiled up at the girl, mumbling, “Nice to meet you.”
The strawberry blonde nodded politely at me then plopped down on the ottoman next to Josh. “What are we talking about?” He treated her to a grin, then looked at me again. I shifted in the chair, trying to make staring at him a little less easily accomplished.
“Baring your soul for the sake of inspiring stories,” Victor said. “You were great in the film tonight, Jen. Really great.”
It took me a moment to recognize her. She’d had short black hair in the movie. Her most memorable scene had been while she was mostly naked and wrapped around Josh for a good five minutes. I felt a flash of envy and rubbed a hand over my hair. What’s the matter with me?
I needed space. Now.
“Food?” I spoke into Shannon’s ear.
“Table.” She pointed toward the buffet table across the deck.
I got up and made my way to the table, intentionally avoiding warm hazel eyes as I went. He stood too, making my heart leap, before disappearing into the crowd without saying anything. I dismissed the sense of disappointment pulling at me and focused on sustenance. I filled a little plate with things that looked to be more vegetable and protein than starch, hoping to quiet the buzz in my ears.
&nbs
p; As I nibbled, I let my gaze wander. In one group I found Josh, laughing, his face totally animated. The rest of the group stopped laughing long enough for someone to say something else, and then started up again. The camaraderie was evident. I smiled in spite of myself. His eyes flashed to mine, wandered over me deliberately, never wavering as he continued talking with his friends. He was staring at me in a way that left little doubt about his thoughts, his color rising slightly and his jaw rigid.
My heart was pounding in my ears. Was I imagining this? That he was looking at me like…that?
I must have had more to drink than I thought. I put down the plate on a nearby tray and made my way back to Shannon.
She was still deep in conversation with Victor and the others, so I whispered into her ear. “I’m going for a walk on the beach. I just need a minute to clear my head. Too much to drink… You know me.”
She nodded. “The water is cold, so no skinny-dipping.” I rolled my eyes at her.
I slipped out of the group and made my way down to the beach, making note of any people of interest I could tell Natalie about later. Unless I met Darth Vader himself, six-year-old Will couldn’t care less about any of this. I missed them both as I walked on the soft sand. Mom would have them settled in and sleeping peacefully by now. Bedtime was my favorite time. It meant cuddles, talks, and love. I hugged myself, the sudden rush of homesickness sharp. I hadn’t left the kids, ever. But things were different now. I didn’t need to watch over them all the time. It was time to relax.
I shivered as a gust of wind hit me, jolting me from my reverie.
My eyes adjusted to the moonlight; the sand glowed white. The crisp, salty sea air tickled my nose after the various perfumes and scents crowding the party. The soothing sound of the waves muffled everything; only an occasional rise in volume from the party broke through.
There were a few couples strolling, but it felt delightfully deserted compared to the crowd of the party. The only drawback was the temperature. It was colder here, away from the fire pits and people. I wrapped my arms around myself, but there wasn’t much to keep out the chill. I wandered down to the surf, keeping my toes safely on dry land.
“Claire?” Josh’s voice made me jump. “Sorry I startled you. I saw you make your way down.”
“Just lost in the moment.” My voice was strained. “It’s lovely.” Almost as lovely as you are.
Josh’s gaze remained on me, not the ocean or the beach or the moon. “It is.”
My heart thumped, warming under his inspection.
He asked, “How did you meet Shannon?”
“College. We had a Creative Writing class together. She was this outspoken, pushy chick that loved to talk at the class versus with the class. We both loved to write and we just clicked. She’s been trying to push me out of my shell ever since.”
“She’s rather…opinionated at times.” He stole a glance from the corner of his eye, smiling.
I nodded. “That’s putting it very nicely. But, all stubbornness and opinions aside, she’s the most loyal friend in the world.”
“I’ve never read anything of hers.” He stared up at the moon.
“She’s exceptionally talented.”
“It appears that she feels the same way about you—as you’re her muse.”
“She’s…I don’t know…” I had no idea what to say. I didn’t want to have this conversation, ever. Certainly not on the beach, under the stars, with him. Wasn’t there anything else to talk about? I shrugged. “I honestly don’t know what she’s thinking.”
I felt it the instant Josh’s hazel eyes were on me, but I refused to meet his gaze. I waited, keeping my mouth shut and a small smile on my face. I knew he was waiting for me to elaborate, but I had nothing to add. The quiet grew. The wind whistled as it blew around us. Goose bumps covered my skin and I shivered.
“Here.” Josh removed his jacket and placed it around my shoulders. His thumbs stroked softly over my collarbone, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.
I was acutely aware of Josh, of the fact that we were alone. My eyes lingered on his lower lip, mere inches from me. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Josh said softly. His hands slid from my shoulders, putting some distance between us. “In a way I feel like I know you.” A slow and slightly flush-inducing smile spread across his face as he continued. “You’re a bit of a personal hero for Shannon. You come up often in conversation.” He watched me as he spoke, watched as I fiddled with the buttons on his jacket.
“Really?” Shannon’s been talking about me? That probably wasn’t good.
“I was curious to meet you, this tower of strength and inspiration that Shannon’s so devoted to. I imagined someone slightly intimidating and world-weary,” he said. “Nothing at all like you. You’re a complete surprise. She didn’t do you justice.”
I was shocked and more than a little pleased by his compliment. It took an effort to speak, let alone sound normal, as I said, “She says a lot of things—some she probably shouldn’t.” I shivered at another gust of wind.
He moved closer, trying to shield me from the breeze. “You must be freezing.”
“A little, but not enough to head back.” I took a deep breath, hesitated. “That—” I glanced at the party in full swing. “—is a different world than the one I live in.”
He laughed. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“Really? This isn’t a normal evening out for you?” I assumed this was a typical Hollywood event, the kind of thing a new talent would regularly attend.
“I stay in LA as little as possible. I prefer making the trek back and forth from London to Los Angeles.”
I looked at him curiously. “Not a fan of LA?”
“It was exciting for the first week or so. Having girls—and some chaps—camp outside my apartment, receiving suggestive texts and marriage proposals. Having undergarments thrown at me was a bit of an ego boost, I will admit. But it’s been more than two months now and it’s less amusing and more frustrating. I mean, people have tried to cut off locks of my hair, tear off my clothes… It’s a sort of dream-turned-nightmare scenario.” He pushed breeze-blown hair from his face. “A ‘different world’ is a bit of an understatement.”
I looked up at him, his annoyed face unintentionally comical. I laughed.
He stared down at me, surprised. “I make you laugh,” he noted, a brilliant smile spreading across his handsome face.
“Sorry, I—I don’t laugh very often, actually.” I continued before I could analyze his expression. “I imagine your viewpoint is fairly unique. I mean, I agree that it’s weird, but isn’t it part of the star package?”
He gazed back at the party, growing faint behind us as we walked slowly down the beach. “I’ve no interest in being a movie star.”
At hearing the frustration in his voice, I shot him a perplexed look.
He laughed a little. “I just want to be an actor.”
“Okay… I guess there is a difference. But feel free to elaborate.”
“When I’m home, I’m me. I go out with my mates, hang out at pubs, go to see films. No worries about being followed to the shops or that someone’s snapping pictures of me buying apples. It does happen, occasionally, but I’m not new there. It’s nothing like here.” He sounded wistful as he spoke. “In LA, I’m this drunken, whoring renegade on some sort of rampage. Or at least the tabloids and their relentless reporters would have you think that about me. When I meet someone here, they know who I am—or rather, who they think I am.”
He broke off, turning to look at me. His voice wavered ever so slightly as he added, “It can be lonely.” His eyes moved over my face.
My heart was in my throat as I forced my next words out in an attempt to lessen the gravity of the conversation. “That sounds like a choice. Usually underwear and marriage proposals mean there are interested ladies.”
“If you don’t mind being involved with a woman who hands out her panties so freely.”
I
laughed at the horrified expression on his face. He smiled his eye-crinkling smile and stole my breath.
I felt unaccountably nervous as his fingers took my left hand, his touch electric. I looked down at my hand in his, amazed by the heat in his touch. It flooded through me, all the way to the tips of my fingers and toes, leaving me light-headed.
His face was shadowed while mine was bared in the moon’s bright light. I heard his breath hitch as my eyes fell to the shadow of his lips, felt his breath on my face as he moved to within inches of me. His hand was soft, hesitant against my cheek, and surprisingly gentle. His thumb traveled gently, slowly over my lower lip. I didn’t think as my eyes fell closed; feeling simply took over. I was throbbing with anticipation, my heart racing, my lungs tight. I stopped breathing, acutely aware of his hand on my cheek, the other sliding through my hair then down to the small of my back.
“Claire?” Shannon’s voice reached us on the breeze.
Josh’s forehead rested against mine. He groaned softly, frustrated. “I want to kiss you.”
I didn’t say anything. What could I say? I was standing in front of a gorgeous young man who wanted to kiss me on a moonlit beach on the California coast. It must be a dream. If I said something, I might wake up.
His hand smoothed the hair from my face, tilting my face to his. He looked at me, my desire undoubtedly exposed in the moonlight. He shook his head and sighed. His hands fell from me and he stepped back. “Do you like music?” he asked.
I quirked an eyebrow, disappointed by the absence of his hold. “Yes.” My voice sounded forced, escaping on the breath I’d been holding.
“There’s a bonfire on the beach later. It’s a beautiful night. I play guitar. Join me?” The shadow of a smile lingered on his face.
I looked over my shoulder. Shannon waved frantically at me. “But I…I’m not wearing the right clothes.” Wait. Am I seriously thinking about doing this?
He shrugged. “Keep the jacket on. Come with me. Please.”
Shannon caught up to us, a little breathless, her eyes sliding back and forth between me and Josh. “Sorry. I have to go,” she panted. “It’s getting late and I have this big meeting tomorrow morning.”