Hollywood Hearts: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Read online

  “I have a place,” I tell her, relaxing and feeling a smugness come over me.

  “A loft apartment. You can use it as long as you like, rent-free and with no-strings while you set yourself up. You can have your own column, website, and channel. Everything you need to be the next big thing in entertainment reporting,” I say, feeling my whole body pulse with the excitement of a new project.

  A new idea.

  A new life for my queen.

  “No strings?” I finally hear her ask me, coming closer now and hooking an arm around my waist.

  “How about the fact that nobody’s even heard of me and I don’t exactly reek of contacts in Hollywood as an intern for a gossip columnist,” she reminds me.

  Giving me the ‘I appreciate it, but,’ look.

  I feel a stab of hurt before I feel myself smile. Before I hear the haughty grunt from my own lips.

  Leaning in close before I kiss her, I ask her to trust me and remind her just who she’s talking to.

  “I’m Jack Mercury, Olivia. And I have more connections. More favors owed… More dirt on half the state let alone tinsel town than you could ever dream up – or your boss. Just say yes. Tell me you’ll give it a shot and I promise I’ll get on my own knees and beg for your old job back if this doesn’t work out.”

  My mom always said I was a born actor, and even I have to admit it’s an impassioned speech, but when I see Olivia nodding her head with her own brow cocked with more than just curiosity, I know we’re in.

  I have a chance to show her that she’s more than she thinks she is, as well as setting us both up in something we both know a hell of a lot about.

  “But today, right now?” Olivia asks me, her eyes searching mine with logistics as well as burning questions.

  “You know how quickly a good scandal, real or imagined can burn somebody, right?” I ask her, feeling my lip curl with excited anticipation.

  She frowns and nods, agreeing rapidly.

  Impatiently, willing me to get to the point. To get to the real reason I’m suddenly driven to ask her to drop her old life and cross over to mine.

  Cross over to me with nothing but a feeling between us.

  “Imagine, just for a moment that it’s Naomi Pilkington who’s undone. And with the truth for a change?” I ask her, feeling more of my plan rising up inside me as Olivia starts to get what I mean.

  “You want me to go solo and expose Hollywood gossip for what it is?” she asks, suddenly unimpressed.

  Sounding like the headline that would never be read because it’s just so boring.

  So true even.

  “If that’s what you want,” I challenge her. “But! It’ll come with the backing and influence of one of Hollywood’s greatest influencers,” I add cryptically, noting the face she makes, squirming a little of her own now.

  “I thought you said you had to use the bathroom?” she groans, twisting her face in time with her body, telling me she’s maybe done with enough fantasy for one day.

  “So, you can just snap your fingers and set it up so I can publish a truckload of gossip against the queen of gossip?” Olivia asks, her journalistic interest piqued more than her doubt.

  “I can’t. Not on my own anyway,” I confess, looking down at my own feet, not needing the bathroom anymore before Olivia bustles past me.

  The call of nature reaching her instead as she makes another face and slams the door in mine before latching it.

  “But I know somebody who can,” I add with a sly grin through the closed bathroom door, reaching for my phone from my pocket.

  “I know just the person who can.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jack

  Before I can even dial my mom, my trusty and beloved agent/manager who I need now to be the biggest spill-mouth in all of Hollywood history. Before any of that even passes my own lips, it’s her who’s calling me.

  We’ve always had a weird synchronicity but this is crazy good timing and I try and tell her so but she barks at me before I get the chance.

  When mom calls and talks over me, it’s always business. And she has her best business voice on right now.

  “I dunno what or how you even did it kiddo, but it worked! You’ve got a three movie deal waiting for you at the studio,” she says loudly, almost shouting as though I can’t hear her or even know who she is.

  “And they even said not to worry about the jet. Or the fur or the jewels. Like I said boy, I dunno what you pulled back there, but after I saw the tape myself…”

  “The tape?” I ask her, sounding confused.

  “Yeah the tape,” Denise exclaims boldly. “I thought it was just grainy pictures some tourist took that made that news story. Turns out it was the studio screen test for you and your new leading lady,” she says brashly like she has a point even I wouldn’t get.

  Which I don’t.

  “I’m not sure I follow, Ma. C-can I call you back?” I stammer, lowering my voice and moving into a corner of the tiny apartment when I hear the toilet flushing. Olivia then running herself what sounds like a shower but could be anything with all those pipes hammering.

  “Ah Jack, you don’t have to put on an act for me. I just got off the horn with Goodwyn. Those stories the papers ran? He wants to sue all of ‘em. Breach of studio privacy and copyright,” she laughs, asking if I’m still there.

  Wondering why I can’t share her enthusiasm.

  “He saw the screen test you did with that contest kid and wants to run with it. A new franchise: ‘Jack Mercury falls in love with average girl’, or something like that… Jack?”

  “Uh, yeah. I’m still here. Look, Mom? I got her right here. The girl. Turns out she’s an entertainment reporter who does all the heavy lifting for the gossip columnist who ran said story. She wants to switch sides,” I tell her in one breath.

  “Can you help?” I ask her finally, grateful when it registers Olivia’s in the shower and I can have a few minutes to update my mom on what I have in mind.

  Almost everything anyway.

  “You’re shittin’ me, Jack?” she asks, all of her agent’s fee from three movies taking a backseat for something I know she loves more.

  A good old fashioned catfight.

  My mom, hates the gossip columns, only grinning when we win in court, which until recently hadn’t been too often truth be told.

  Now it’s a chance for us both to turn things around for good.

  I can set Olivia doing something she loves and we can have a better voice for actors and the industry from people on the inside. Not just muckrakers.

  “Right, mom?” I ask, pitching her my own idea about setting Olivia up in an office of her own, with full access to our Hollywood contacts.

  “This girl,” she muses with an air of friendly suspicion. “That screen test kiss wasn’t just for the camera, was it Jack?” she finally asks plainly.

  I can’t lie, not to my own mother. Nor to myself.

  “She’s the one, Mom. I just know she is,” I hear myself tell her excitedly. “And I’m not asking if I can do this. I’m telling you it’s what’s going to happen,” I make clear.

  No more wondering or waiting for anything anymore.

  Jack Mercury is back, king of Hollywood and he’s found his queen. Together, we’re gonna rule over our new empire.

  There’s a lengthy silence, but I finally hear my mom sigh with some relief.

  “I can finally rest easy Jack, knowing you’re on the way to having a family of your own. I’ll have my grandbabies after all,” she says, sniffing back emotion.

  “Uh, I said she’s the one, Ma. Give her more time than one day to give you a whole family,” I try to protest, but it’s no use.

  I know she’s right. Mom’s always right.

  If Olivia’s the one, and I know she is, then I want the whole fairy tale as much as she does. Complete with a white picket fence and as many kids as she can handle under our feet.

  “Before any of that though, mother,” I caution h
er gently, knowing how much she wants a family for me as well as herself.

  “Before we even think about choosing the colors for the nursery. I need your help to get Olivia going on her own project. Making her the new face for Hollywood reporting, and making her first big break a story that dismantles the untouchable Naomi Pilkington.”

  Denise goes quiet again, but thinking hard this time, not emotional anymore. It’s her ability to shift from emotional to business oriented so quickly that helps us both.

  “Jack. You’re telling me this girl would rather write Hollywood entertainment articles than star opposite her leading man… you in a franchise deal that’s on the table from Goodwyn himself?” she asks with a tone of disbelief.

  I have to admit, when she puts it like that, it does sound a little odd. And she’s not just playing devil’s advocate either.

  Denise is in the business of making movies, she knows how quickly a star is born or swallowed up by the black hole of unemployment.

  “I can’t speak for Olivia, Ma. And she doesn’t know about any movie offers, but even if I promise to run it by her, I think I know which she’ll choose,” I tell her.

  “And what about you, Jack? There’s a three movie deal right here. You just need to pucker up like you did yesterday on command and you can be number one again,” she reminds me.

  “Even if we lose the girl to her magazine stories. We can find another one just like her for the movies, I’m sure.”

  I’ll never kiss anyone other than Olivia again. If she doesn’t want the movie deal, then neither do I.

  “I’ll get back to on that one, Denise.” I counter, careful not to close the door completely on it and mindful of her instant warning.

  “Goodwyn doesn’t wait, Jack. He’s expecting you at the studio rather than hanging around for your terms.”

  “I know, I know,” I tell her, puffing air out of my cheeks as I hear the faucet shut off in the bathroom.

  “I gotta go, Ma. I’ll call you within the hour, okay?”

  There’s so much she wants to go over, to ask and convince me of but I can only think about seeing Olivia again.

  Even though she’s only in the next room.

  That tiny bathroom.

  Hell, this whole place including the bathroom is still smaller than one of my actual bathrooms in any house I own.

  She’s not staying here though, that’s final.

  If nothing else, I’m feeling claustrophobic.

  But one look into her eyes and I can tell she’s more upset about the place than I could ever be.

  “I thought you’d fallen in,” I try to joke, wondering why she’d suddenly take a shower like that.

  “I just… This place… You seeing it…” she stammers, and I rush to hold her, telling her none of it matters now.

  “We’re not staying anyway,” I tell her, taking charge. “Get a few things you know you’ll need. We can get everything else new.” I explain.

  She tenses up under me but then nearly collapses, and I can feel the exhaustion flowing from her as much as I can feel her tears and emotion.

  “My job. The column,” she tries to protest again, and I silence her worries with a firm kiss on the top of her head, still wet from the shower and smelling like something I want to hold on to for a lifetime.

  “I’ve actually had a couple of better offers since you were showering,” I confess, smiling as she looks up, fake punching my chest.

  “Jack, don’t,” she sniffs. “It’s a crappy job and a crappy apartment, but it’s all I have,” she continues until I give her a simple choice of two things.

  Maybe three if we keep the original situation.

  “Own a Hollywood gossip page or a three movie deal?” I ask her point-blank, borrowing a little of my agent’s own style.

  The same ultimatum I know Denise would pitch anyone.

  “Or, you go back to a crappy life with a crazed Hollywood actor stalking you all day, needing you to be safe. Needing you by his side,” I add, cocking a brow, knowing I couldn’t stand her out of my sight for more than a few minutes, let alone whole days if she went back to her ‘job’.

  “Give me an hour,” I tell her.

  “Let me show you how your new job with me is way better. And it comes with its own perks,” I remind her, pressing myself against her.

  Grateful when she finally nods in agreement.

  “An hour,” she murmurs, moving away from me only to pick up a few things, but enough to tell me she isn’t coming back anytime soon.

  Chapter Twenty

  Olivia

  I have no real idea what Jack is referring to, but the thought of even trying to return to my old life is equally useless under his powerful touch.

  The effect he has on me.

  Everything he’s offering, which even without words feels like a dream that’s actually starting to come true in waking life.

  As if sleeping with the man wasn’t enough, the dream continues into waking life. And like him, prefect with every step, even though I have no idea where any of it is leading.

  But knowing he wants me on his arm, by his side is all that really matters.

  He waits patiently as I get changed and pack a few things, pretending to be busying himself with his phone but I can sense his eyes on me at every chance he gets.

  “Ready?” he finally asks, reassuring me with a hug before we leave.

  I nod, too anxious to even look at anything except his hand in mine.

  Nowhere near ready to even switch on my phone again.

  Like I said. I’ll give him an hour to set out what he has in mind, but something already tells me it’s a little more permanent than that.

  Something I can’t place in my own mind, but definitely something I just feel in my own heart.

  It’s not until we’re heading further downtown in the limo I even have the courage to ask.

  I don’t want to sound ungrateful either, but for him to be so certain of me not doing what I’ve always done, even staying in my apartment. I figure something’s happened.

  “We’ve been driving for fifteen minutes and I’m only supposed to give you an hour,” I remind him, surprised at the tone in my voice but dying to know by now.

  Jack’s been thoughtful the whole way so far and me speaking is finally enough for him to lift a lid on maybe some of his secrets at least.

  He smiles, and takes my hand in his again, bringing it to his lips.

  “Almost there,” he assures me. “And there’s more than one choice on offer,” he reminds me cryptically.

  “Jack?” I ask him, almost huffing. Not able to stand much more suspense. “Choices, really?” I almost whine.

  Not sure how much more mystery a girl can take considering I never went home with many choices before I took my shower.

  The limo slows and then pulls into an underground parking lot, I have no idea where we are exactly, but I do know it’s not on the same side of town reserved for low rent interns.

  There’s no urgency, but Jack is quick to lead me out of the car to a private elevator I know somehow is exclusively his. The scent of his cologne lingering inside tells me that much.

  Watching him swipe his watch over a square, it opens then closes and in moments re-opens after a swift surge upward leaving us both with a commanding view of the whole city from the top floor.

  Walls of thick glass rise up, casting natural light and shadows over an inviting balcony space that looks more like a private garden.

  “Here we are,” he says, sounding relieved, and I have to admit I feel like I’m home even though I’ve never been here or even seen the place.

  “There’s a space by the window there,” he says, directing me with his hand gently on my back over to a desk by a sunny nook.

  “Your office,” he says, a matter of fact, sweeping his hands wide open into the space around us.

  “And your new home, if you’ll take it?” he adds, winking. “It’s a long drive to get to work when you can just roll
out of bed, isn’t it?”

  My look prompts him to do some explaining, and quickly.

  I feel faint.

  “Sorry,” he whispers, helping me to a huge leather chair and taking my bag, setting it down beside me as he kneels in front of me.

  “It’s a lot to take in, but a lot’s happened since I heard you step into the shower at your old place,” he begins.

  “A lot’s happened,” I parrot back, casting my eyes around the cathedral-like loft apartment, which is more the size of my whole floor than my apartment.

  Gleaming white tiles and chrome spray the natural sunlight from the outside, with the dense wooden furniture and colorful traditional woven rugs breaking up the spaces in between.

  Jack starts to speak as I scan the surroundings.

  “My agent called,” he says, lowering his voice to a serious tone.

  “Before you go back to work for anyone else, I need to tell you about the studio’s offer,” he adds.

  “The studio?” I hear myself say again in the same, zombie-like tone. Like all of this is maybe waiting for someone else who hasn’t arrived yet.

  “Yeah.” Jack smiles briefly. “That kiss, yesterday at the studio? Well. They liked what they saw and there’s a three movie deal on the table.”

  “For those two actors, you coached?” I ask, suddenly smiling. “That’s great!” I add enthusiastically, but his face grows more serious as he takes my hand.

  “For us, Olivia. The studio wants you… and me. There will be more screen tests, a whole bunch of other stuff. But it sounds like the studio chief made up his mind once he saw you and me…”

  “Jack,” I interrupt him. “That’s not even funny,” I remark, wondering why he’d even say something like that.

  He simply shrugs, the coy smile disappearing from his lips once he senses my new mood, but continues.

  “Then there are the other offers,” he counters. “The column or website, show… whatever or however it is you want to be in charge of. A new Hollywood reporter?” he asks, his smile broadening.