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Hollywood Hearts: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Page 6
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Page 6
I hear a low sound coming deep from somewhere inside me.
I’m not working today and I don’t feel like kissing some wannabe actress.
Anything that gets between me and Olivia, what’s mine, right now isn’t something I have time for.
“Can’t kiss her yourself?” I tease Marcel, knowing it’s not a good idea to taunt him in his face. Especially when I’m still growling.
“I’d love to see you shoot a real scene,” Olivia pipes in, but I can see a look in her eyes that isn’t excited about seeing me kiss someone else. Even if it is just for the cameras.
“That settles it then, Jack. Sound stage four, ten minutes,” he says sharply before eyeing Olivia up and down one final time. A look of satisfaction on his face before he turns on his heel, leaving us both alone again.
“Who was that?” Olivia whispers. “I mean, is that one of your bosses?” she asks, swallowing.
“Yeah, one of ‘em,” I tell her, trying not to sound as angry as I feel.
It’s just like him, so much like Goodwyn to do whatever he can to ruin someone’s day.
“What were we saying about bosses?” she asks me cheerfully. “C’mon. I wanna see how things work on set. A real scene with direction from the real Jack Mercury,” she says, her eyes wide before she gnaws at her lip again.
I know exactly what she’s thinking because I’m thinking the same thing.
I hope I don’t have to kiss any lips except hers, not ever again.
The director and the actors are all new to me, nothing unusual about that. There are more scenes and movies that are made and dumped that never see the light of day, with just as many people from behind the scenes who never make it either.
Being in a studio, making a film, or shooting a scene doesn’t guarantee a job the next week or the next year, even if the film gets made.
I should know all about that.
Marcel introduces everyone, and they all figure Olivia and I have just come off the set of something else, nobody batting an eyelid as to how we’re dressed.
And everyone knows who Jack Mercury is, even if I only know two people present.
“Okay Jack, here’s the scene,” Marcel says, handing me the script which I mull over for a minute.
“There’s just one line and then the kiss, why don’t you run through it with Dana here. I’ll look after your little friend,” he says assumingely, a bony hand hooking around Olivia’s shoulder as he guides her to a canvas chair.
I give a brief smile and ‘how do you do?’ look to Dana, the female lead, and then to her leading man. An actor I’ve never heard of but he certainly reminds me of myself minus twenty years and about a hundred pounds.
They know the lines, when and how to kiss, but there’s just “ no magic,” the director tells me, biting his nails and checking his watch. Double panic in his eyes because a studio head’s just ambushed his set with Jack Mercury of all people.
I can tell what he’s thinking as though he was shouting it.
I ask the two actors to run through it, to show me what they’ve got so far.
He’s right. It looks the part, we even check out some rushes from what they’ve shot so far. It just doesn’t have… that something that a good romance scene should have.
Taking both lead male and female actors aside separately, I tell them everything I know about what works and what doesn’t when it comes to kissing scenes.
They nod, one yawns and I feel like my job is done.
But Marcel has other ideas.
“Show us, Jack, don’t tell us,” he says from behind the lights with impatience, checking his watch. “Time is money and this ten second scene has cost the studio enough already.”
If it was any other day, if it was with any other time I know I wouldn’t hesitate.
But now I’ve met Olivia. Now I know what I want and how I feel. There’s no way I want to kiss anyone else either, not for show or anything else.
Deciding to beat Marcel at his own game, I call Olivia over and tell the actors everything I’ve already coached them on all over again.
My voice cracks a little with nerves and I can feel my hands sweating as they shake a little.
It feels like it’s my first acting audition ever.
And looking into Olivia’s eyes as I pull her closer, I know she feels the same way.
It’s not how I would have planned our first kiss, not even how I would have dreamed it in a hundred years, but it’s also my big chance.
“Like this,” I tell them. Tell Olivia, who I know is waiting for me to kiss her.
As soon as I feel my mouth over hers, it’s like we both feel what we know we wanted from the moment we first met.
Like we’ve wasted half a day by pretending. Overlooking what matters most.
Her body melts against mine, and I feel the same magic from her touch transferred to our lips, magnified by a thousand.
It’s a feeling I don’t want to end and at the same time I know we’re both home now. There’s no turning back.
The camera’s rolling and once we finally stop there’s applause from everyone.
Except the studio boss, who I notice is suddenly missing.
Suddenly found something better to do.
“That’s how we do it, folks,” The director calls out, applauding louder than anyone, coming over and taking my hand in his.
“If only we could have you on board with this project. Mr. Mercury. An honor, a real honor, thanks for coming down today,” he gushes.
“Thank Ms. Fanning, here,” I tell him. “She’s the real star here today,” I tell them all.
I tell her again, squeezing her hand a little tighter. Fighting the urge to do more than just kiss her again.
The leading actors look at each other, almost shrugging but at least Olivia and I know what’s missing in their performance.
She takes a moment, collecting herself, and goes over to each actor in turn, whispering something only they can hear before she comes back over to me.
After setting up the scene again, they pull it off in one take. Nowhere near as electric as our own performance, but way better than their other try’s.
“What did you tell them?” I ask her once we’re heading off on the rest of our tour, her hand glued firmly inside mine now.
“I just told the guy to imagine it was his boyfriend, and the girl to imagine it was her girlfriend,” she says, a matter of fact with a sly grin.
“Oh,” I say, stopping mid-step, but only long enough to join all the dots I and a whole film crew had obviously missed.
Chapter Eleven
Olivia
I’m not sure if everything that follows is part of a coordinated tour, but I don’t care either.
Once Jack kisses me for the first time, and every time after that, we could be anywhere and I’d feel the same way.
There’s no prize winner anymore. No girl meets a movie star for a day and feels better about herself.
It’s about two people finding each other. And it’s way better in real life than in any movie.
I want to tease Jack a little, asking him if this is how he treats all his meet and greets, but I know it’s not true.
I know he didn’t want to kiss the other actress any more than I wanted him to. If he did, I don’t know how I’d feel but I don’t have to worry anymore because it never happened that way.
I’ve got Jack Mercury, my man, on my arm at least and I know that I’m his from now on. No matter what happens from now on, I could never kiss anyone else because nobody could even come close to him.
After wandering for what turns into the rest of the afternoon, he asks me if we should head someplace else.
My groaning belly is thinking more food and Jack suggests a great place he knows where we can have an early dinner before heading back home.
“Heading back?” I hear myself ask, a stab of hurt in my chest, not ever wanting this day to end let alone hear Jack planning it that way.
“It�
��s okay,” he consoles me, kissing the top of my head as he squeezes me. “I mean heading back on the jet. It’s a loaner and I don’t feel like flying coach to get back home,” he says.
“And where is home for Jack Mercury?” I ask, hoping he can tell me. Answer just some of the million questions I still have for him about him.
“I’ve got a couple, here and there,” he says cryptically, I punch his arm softly, pretending to be mad he won’t tell, and growl softly, begging him not to send me home alone today.
“Not yet, anyway,” I trail off, wondering if it really is just a one-day thing with Jack. Suddenly worried he might not feel exactly the same way I do.
“And what about you?” he asks. “Do you have a place in the suburbs or a downtown apartment?” he asks with genuine curiosity.
Looking down at me with the same tell me everything about you face that he’s had on most of today.
The single thought of Jack Mercury seeing where I live is enough to make me run a cold sweat.
Especially once I realize he’s asking a genuine question.
A guy like Jack, I’m assuming his days of one bedroom apartments in bad areas and working for almost free are pretty much behind him.
“Where are we gonna eat?” I ask, trying to sound enthusiastic and hopefully changing the subject.
He glances sidelong at me, creasing his mouth as he lets his own questioning slide. For now.
“Italian okay? I know this great place, it’s so good. It’s like being in Italy sixty years ago,” he exclaims, making me drool already as he easily finds my kryptonite: Pasta.
I nod eagerly, nuzzling into him as we step outside into a chilly late afternoon which looks and feels more like early evening back home with the sky so dark.
“There’s our car,” he says, spotting the driver loading up the trunk with what looks like the flowers I was given earlier, along with a bunch of other stuff.
Hopefully my clothes.
My bra, it’s the only one I have that fits.
“What about our clothes?” I ask him, needing to know we have them back before going anywhere else.
“I’ll double-check, but I’m sure we’ll have our regular clothes back,” he says casually.
“And these?” I shiver, pinching the thin fabric of my dress, feeling my face flush hot as my chest stiffens from the cold and worrying about the jewelry too.
“We should be fine, as long as Goodwyn doesn’t spot us,” Jack quips, but seeing my expression he leans closer.
“Just kidding. We’ll send it all back with the plane if it makes you feel better.”
What would make me feel better is a sweater, a jacket even. But by the time we’re approaching the limo, the driver produces a fur coat from the back, offering it to Jack so he can help me into it.
“The studio’s compliments,” the driver says demurely and I tell myself it has to be fake. Like the jewels.
It all looks so real as it has to for the camera, but they’re just props. I mean, who even wears real fur anymore?
“That’s better,” Jack croons, slipping the coat over my shoulders, holding the door open for me, and making sure he gets a decent view of my chest as I slip into the sleek black car.
I hear Jack telling the driver the address of the restaurant and then he slides in from the other side of the car himself, putting a huge arm around me and pulling me close.
I don’t have to look up to see him smiling to himself. I can just sense how happy he is now. Content.
But a sudden and terrifying fear grips my heart, like icy fingers so tight I suddenly feel like I can’t take another breath.
“My phone,” I gasp. “I switched it off before we took off in the plane and then…”
Jack doesn’t seem worried at all.
“It’ll be with our things, I wouldn’t worry-” he starts to tell me, but he can see how I feel about it and in a moment he’s told our driver to pull over and going to the trunk himself, he comes back with a sealed brown paper bag that has all my things in it, pressed and folded neatly.
Even my old bra that has a hole in one side.
“You think I’m silly, don’t you?” I ask him, feeling a little embarrassed, but how was I to know there were people who are actually kind?
In the city, you couldn’t leave your clothes, phone or anything anywhere for two minutes.
“They’re a great bunch, like family,” is all Jack says, settling back in his seat as I power up my phone, sighing a little to himself when he hears me gasping again.
There are dozens of missed calls, texts, and messages.
And all from my boss Naomi.
The other world I thought I’d escaped from has reached through the looking glass, and before I even read a single text or hear a single word from her, I know that none of it is gonna be good.
“I thought you wanted the phone?” Jack asks, noting my shift in mood and feeling me tense up like a block of ice under his arm.
“It’s my boss,” I remind him. “I was supposed to check in with her this morning before I even found out about this competition thing,” I say, not meaning to sound so short but that’s how it comes out.
Anything to do with Naomi just automatically gets my back up. Now I have proof, it even cancels out any joy from being with Jack Mercury.
Almost.
“Can it wait until morning? Until after dinner at least,” Jack reasons, trying to put his hand over my phone but I snatch it away.
“You don’t understand, this is my job. It’s how I get paid,” I hear myself growling at him.
Feeling like no matter how many special moments I’ve had with Jack today that none of it can cancel out the real misery of my existence.
He can’t just wave a magic wand and make all my problems go away.
And now on top of everything else, I feel bad for taking it out on Jack. Like a spoiled brat.
He’s quiet for some time and I scroll through the text messages, which start out fine enough but midway, I’m wondering if I even have a job to go back to.
“She’s found out I won the contest,” I tell Jack, giving him little micro-updates from my text feed with my boss.
Or maybe ex-boss by now.
As frightening as that idea is, it’s also kind of liberating in a way.
“Mm hmm,” Jack murmurs, glancing out the window as he looks up at something, his arm still around me but he’s giving me all the proverbial space he thinks I need, all things considered.
The whole sky outside the car lights up suddenly, a dozen thick fingers of forked lightning flashing across the darkening sky.
I can make out, just for a second, the plumes of black clouds rolling across the whole sky.
Kind of fitting, as if Naomi herself has somehow tracked me down. The menacing reality of my life.
“Sorry for sounding like such a lunatic,” I tell Jack, closing my messages. “You’re right, it can wait until I’m home or at least until after dinner.” I try to add, but the sound of thunder is so loud it drowns me out.
I jump involuntarily and Jack replies by pulling me in even closer.
“Let’s just get to the restaurant, huh?” he says, trying to sound cheerful but the sudden change in the weather, followed by a torrent of heavy rain out of nowhere adds a new element to everything I’m feeling.
The perfect day so far is suddenly filled with dread.
Chapter Twelve
Jack
The restaurant’s right next to the lobby of the Oberon Hotel. Like the restaurant, it’s steeped in history and one of the city’s finest since being fully restored.
“Here we are,” I announce as the limo pulls up. A doorman in waterproofs has a huge umbrella waiting for us and helps us get from the street to the maître d' in one piece, bearing the brunt of the sudden violent turn in the weather for us.
“Pecorino?” Olivia asks, reading the neon sign from inside and making me chuckle as she shivers. “Isn’t that a cheese?”
“Don�
�t let the name fool you,” I promise her. “This is Italian food as you’ve never imagined it.”
I eat here as often as I can when I’m in town, and the owner is a fan who always makes sure I can get a table, even in a storm like this, walking in off the street like we have.
Not a shitty table either. Mario keeps his best tables empty, for occasions just like this.
Having Hollywood walk into your restaurant where everyone can see them eating is very good for business.
There’s never a menu at Pecorino’s. A wine list for those who want it, sure. But the menu is usually a choice of a half dozen or so dishes that change each day, depending on the produce bought that day or how the chef is feeling inspired.
Once Mario sees I have company, there’s no point trying to convince him of anything less than all four courses for us to share.
“So glad to see you again, Jack. This storm eh? Antonio, he tells me this morning, a storm is coming and he has the perfect dishes to warm your bones…”
I give him our thanks and he personally takes Olivia’s coat, treating her just like he would any other Hollywood celebrity.
There are more than a few stares towards our table, all of them wondering the same thing.
Who is Jack Mercury’s new and mysterious lady friend?
I wonder if Olivia herself should pen the article over dinner.
But what I have in mind might not be something she’d be able to have published in a newspaper let alone get out in a public restaurant.
The restaurant is warm, and once the interest in us dies down I can fully appreciate my girl in the soft light of our table, her eyes sparkling as she tries her best to hang on to worry and doubt.
“What about our plane?” she asks, looking more relaxed but sounding like she has to worry about something, even if it’s only out of habit.
“We might be stuck here,” I venture. Not meaning to worry her even more.
Quite the opposite.
I also keep a suite at the hotel here when I’m in town. Getting a room should be as easy as our dinner table.
She wants to fret and startup about her boss again, but I really mean it I don’t want her to worry anymore.