Hollywood Hearts: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Read online

  Contents

  Hollywood Hearts

  NEWSLETTER

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  NEWSLETTER

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS

  BRATVA BEAR SHIFTERS

  LAIRDS & LADIES

  RUSSIAN UNDERWORLD

  IRISH WOLF SHIFTERS

  Collaborations

  About the Author

  Hollywood Hearts

  AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE

  _______________________

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 245

  FLORA FERRARI

  Copyright © 2021 by Flora Ferrari

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.

  Created with Vellum

  Hollywood Hearts

  JACK

  King of Hollywood?

  They say as an actor you’re only as good as your last performance.

  In the movies, it’s all about the box office takings. How much money you make the studio back on their investment.

  My last three films have tanked and the phone’s stopped ringing. My streaming contract paused a year before it’s even started production.

  The media circles me like sharks, waiting for my career to bleed one more time so they can tear me to shreds all over again.

  Jack Mercury, Hollywood heartthrob is seen by some as a man past his prime. No scandals. No rehab or off-screen meltdowns.

  Just a guy who’s showing his age in a tank filled with other aging, gray-toned fish.

  Studios want new talent. Young blood.

  The fans want Jack Mercury, all of him. All the time.

  I’ve got a few grays of my own showing, but I can still strut my stuff. Made a mint from movies and made even more by suing the tabloids.

  But my agent, who also happens to be a relation, wants just one more publicity stunt.

  A contest for one lucky fan to spend the day with the legendary Jack Mercury.

  I hardly want to spend my days with myself anymore. The thought of a squealing fan clutching at me, gushing over autographs and selfies is too much.

  But when I finally meet the winner? It’s me who’s feeling like I’ve finally won something for a change.

  Something meaningful.

  Olivia Fanning equals jackpot.

  I know in a second that my whole life has led up to meeting her, and the thought of only spending one day alone with her is nowhere near enough.

  Jack Mercury is a man who knows what he wants, and this one lucky fan is getting more than she bargained for.

  She gets everything.

  All of me.

  Forever if I have things my way.

  OLIVIA

  It’s not the dream job, working for the nightmare boss from hell.

  But a start is a start when it comes to journalism, and writing for an entertainment column might not sound too exciting either.

  Until the chance to win a day alone with Hollywood legend Jack Mercury grabs my attention.

  He’s an older guy. Suave. Sophisticated. Everything he is in the movies.

  I’m a younger, thick set girl with no real future or experience, so how else would I meet a man like Jack Mercury?

  I wouldn’t.

  Not in a million years, and if I ever did, he’d probably look the other way or pass me by entirely.

  A man like Jack could have any girl he wants.

  But with nobody else but little old me for a full day, I’d say my chances of getting him to notice me might be increased.

  And I’m prepared to risk everything to see if I can pull it off.

  I could lose my job if I’m caught.

  But I could lose the chance of a lifetime if I don’t do the one thing I’ve never allowed myself to do: go for it.

  *Hollywood Hearts is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with a HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

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  Chapter One

  Olivia

  “What sign are you again?” My boss Naomi asks absently, making me cringe.

  I’ve never liked the association between me and a big barnyard animal.

  “Taurus,” I murmur, trying to ignore her and get on with my work.

  “Oooh, that’s right!” she exclaims knowingly.

  “With Mercury rising and your moon moving into Venus, love interests are not just on the horizon, they’ll literally be dropping into your lap…” She reads before breaking off and making a face. Not finishing the rest.

  Looking me up and down the way she does all the time.

  “Maybe all the other Taurus’s in the yard,” she decides quietly to herself.

  Reminding me that she’s a Gemini, I have to sit through her reading out the whole horoscope for her star sign and then hear her listing off what makes her, apart from being a Gemini just that much better than me let alone most people.

  “It’s why I’m the boss and you’re the intern,” she explains as if I’m a child; raising her hands and her heavily made up lashes to the heavens.

  It’s as if even talking to the help is a chore, even though I’m the only one who actually does any workaround here. Real work that is.

  Naomi spends half the day looking at herself in a compact mirror and the other half trying to make everyone else who’s female miserable.

  I always wanted to be a journalist though, and the only way in for me after college was a low to seemingly no pay internship with what I thought was the entertainment section in a national newspaper.

  Even though it’s one I’d never heard of, to be honest, might seem odd for a journalist but I don’t read the papers.

  Turns out it’s nothing but a muckraking rag that sees the paper in the courts more often than not, but its trashy stories about celebrities sure do sell.

  Not that I see any of the profits.

  I do get a free sentence from my horoscope this morning though. Yay me.

  “I think it’s a load of bull,” I remark to myself, surprised Naomi even hears me.

  “Taurus? Yeah, that’s the bull. Or maybe cow in your case,” she adds with a sarcastic little smile before tottering out of the office.

  “Don’t forget, I need my column by eleven a.m.,” her nasally voice reminds me as it trails off i
nto the corridor.

  The sound of her five inch heels clicking loudly on the hard floor.

  Who knew anyone would or even could wear heels that high. But who knew anyone would try to look like Malibu Barbie ever, let alone in the fall either?

  That’s Naomi all over though, and as much as she grinds my gears, it’s mostly the men in the office and the whole wider state area who actually encourage her.

  Next to her, even though she’s older than me, I do feel like that Taurus cow.

  Nobody gives the thick, young college graduate a second glance on a good day, let alone whenever Malibu Barbie Naomi’s around.

  I’ve got a big chest, blue eyes and blond hair too.

  Just in different proportions to miss freaking perfect over there.

  With her out of the way, at least I can get her article written and proofed in no time, ready for the editors. Having her out of the office also gives me a chance to peek at her emails.

  A bad habit I got into early.

  I should be ashamed, but technically I sometimes have to go over a project she’s given me that she’s supposed to do herself. Okay, like every single project she gives me.

  I need a refresher sometimes and well, it’s just more interesting scanning her emails than my own.

  I never get emails.

  The only rule I made is to never open mail she hasn’t seen already, that would be an invasion of privacy.

  Today when I see the heading though, I’m prepared to break that rule.

  Win a day with Hollywood heartthrob Jack Mercury.

  My heart stops when I see the name and I tell myself it couldn’t be true.

  It couldn’t be that such an opportunity would even exist let alone fall into my lap.

  My eyes dart to the door and I chew my lip for a nanosecond before helplessly opening the email.

  It’s from his agent, a standard media press release inviting magazines, tabloids, and websites to promote the snap contest in their issues or over social media.

  The rules are simple, enter by calling a toll number, and the winner is announced in twenty-four hours from the start time. 9 a.m. this morning.

  The prize? A full day, one on one with nobody else except the man himself.

  Jack Mercury.

  I swallow hard, feeling how dry my mouth is suddenly and I have to sit on the edge of Naomi’s seat. My hands and my knees are shaking so badly.

  The thought of meeting Jack Mercury, let alone spending a whole day alone with him is too much.

  I have to say, and I know he’s probably heard it from every girl he meets but I truly am his biggest fan.

  Maybe literally as well as figuratively.

  As I scroll down for more information, there’s a full screen close up photo of Jack Mercury I’ve never seen before.

  I hear myself making a low groaning sound, hungry. My finger tracing his lips on the screen as I lick my own. My legs pressing together as I feel a welcome rush of heat between them.

  The electric shivers the sight of this man gives me every time are incredible.

  I see men all the time, office is full of ‘em. The city’s crawling with ‘em.

  None of them have this effect on me.

  I can only watch his movies in private because of this effect, and there’s been many a cold and lonely night that’s been made more than just livable with Jack Mercury consoling me from six feet away on the giant plasma screen I saved hard for and bought specially.

  Jack Mercury has been in showbiz since before I was born, everything from action to comedy and drama. But it’s his later movies, the romantic chick flicks that really get me every time.

  Staring into his dark brown eyes, tracing the thick chiseled edge of his jawline with my eyes, wide with excitement by now, I wonder how many hearts he’s broken just by existing.

  But no. Jack Mercury would never hurt anyone, not intentionally.

  He’s won my heart without even trying. Without ever having to even meet me, or the millions of other girls and women I know must feel the same as I do.

  But I still reckon I’m his number one fan. Nobody could feel exactly how I do about him.

  I gasp louder once I see there’s more than just a headshot in the public press release.

  Another, recent photo of Jack half-naked on a beach sets my mind wandering and my hand shifting on its own, needing to high-five myself suddenly.

  Desperately.

  Wondering what it would feel like if one of his huge hands could touch me down there. Touch me anywhere.

  I shudder at the idea, feeling hot and cold all at once, but definitely hot and very wet in one special place.

  I’m wondering how though, with that perfectly tanned body and full head of dark hair, he manages to keep himself in such good shape as well as looking like he hasn’t aged a day in over fifteen years.

  At over six and a half feet and built like a linebacker, how he manages to keep so trim and muscular at the same time. All without effort and always with a smile.

  That Jack Mercury, trademark smile.

  Full of mystery, humor, and kindness but also a side of the devil in it. The good kind of devil, that wants to show you naughty things.

  The devil that wants to please you as well as himself.

  A smile that tells you he knows what you’re thinking only because it’s what he was designed to broadcast and transmit.

  The man’s a walking demigod. A gift to anyone who admires or craves the male form.

  And Jack Mercury has more than just form, he has function too, if that tell-tale bulge at the front of his speedo is anything to go by.

  Print email.

  It’s a reflex action from me, even though it will mean having to go down the hall to the copy room to get it. It shouldn’t matter, everybody prints hundreds of things every day.

  But this is special.

  Special to me.

  Pictures of Jack Mercury I haven’t seen, as well as details on how to enter the contest.

  The toll number to call shouldn’t be a problem. I can use the phone right here at the office, my own cell never having enough credit to order pizza let alone enter a contest.

  Breathing a shivered sigh, I congratulate myself as I mark the email as unread, covering my tracks after all.

  Article written and proofed, my dose of Jack Mercury for the day as well as the chance to spend a day with the man himself?

  I never knew this crappy job could have so much shine on it, and all before lunch.

  My belly groans as I make my way down the hall to the copy room.

  My heart freezing in my chest when I see there’s nothing printed on any of the machines.

  Moving over to see for myself, I hear the door close behind me.

  The tell-tale tippy tap sound of Malibu Barbie boss right behind me.

  “And just what the hell is this?” I hear her ask sharply, watching her manicured hand thrust my printed copy of her email right under my nose.

  Crap.

  Chapter Two

  Jack

  “Because your last three movies have tanked, that’s why.”

  I don’t need reminding. And I don’t need another damned idea from my agent to restart my flagging career.

  “Don’t sugar coat it, will ya?” I sigh, pinching my eyes closed and then trying to focus on what time it actually is.

  “Jack, I’m serious. If it wasn’t for you… for me suing the papers every time they ran a fake news story trying to start a scandal, you’d be broke by now. We both would be.”

  “Ma, you mean if it wasn’t for you suing the papers every time they published a photo of me without paying.” I remind her.

  “Do you know what time it is?” I add, growling a little once I see it’s four a.m.

  “I need my beauty sleep,” I yawn. Trying to remember if it’s “never work with kids or animals.” Or “never work with family?”

  I think it’s all three, and my mom who is also my agent, bless her. Is all three most
days, depending on what mood she’s in at any given hour.

  I have to hear her out though, she’s never been wrong about anything so far. Over twenty years in this business together and I owe her a lot more than the twenty percent she gets as my agent.

  But a contest with me as the prize? Even for my mom, that’s pretty out there.

  “Listen Jack. It’s not just an idea, I kinda forgot to tell you I already promoted it. The winner’s being announced tomorrow morning. Technically this morning our time.”

  I bolt upright in my bed, gripped by the panic that only my agent can give me. The things she signs me up for, and her habit of forgetting things is really getting out of hand.

  “You’re kidding, right?” I hear myself ask. Knowing she’s not. Knowing it’s why she’s calling me at four a.m.

  “I may have forgotten to mention it, Jack. But this is a good idea. You need to be in the spotlight, your fans need to see you at your best. Not hamming it up in some sickening Rom-com. Jesus! What have I told you about signing movie deals without me, Jack?”

  As my agent, Denise has always made sure I get top dollar flaunting what God gave me. Action-comedy, lots of shirtless stuff.

  But the romance movies, the ones where I find love? They’re my favorite.

  Even if they are a bit corny and don’t pay well enough at the box office.

  They let me live out my own dream. The one thing that nobody else could ever understand.