Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 65643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
The back of my neck could still feel the weight of his hand. It replaced the ache with a shiver of longing. It drove out the thought of Noemi and Andrew and my career. Overcome and overwhelmed, I threw myself down on my bed facedown. I wanted to kick my feet with joy over the movie, over the kiss. I wanted to wail in despair over the predicament I was in. I wanted my mom or Noemi, but I didn’t feel right calling either of them. I needed to let my mom think that I was totally fine here without here. And as far as Noemi was concerned…I just couldn’t talk to her about this. I couldn’t tell her the things I was thinking about her ex-husband. It didn’t matter that they’d been divorced for far longer than they’d been together. It was still too…strange.
I rolled over and stared up at my ceiling determinedly. I wasn’t going to keep wallowing like this. I was turning twenty-five in six weeks. Things were finally starting to come together. The movie would start filming in just a couple of weeks. It was a shame it was shooting in town. What I could have really used right now was a month-long shoot on the east coast or, even better, out of country. But still, I’d take the distraction of a busy schedule. Andrew was out of town, but when he got back, we had plans to get together a few times to make sure the story didn’t lose its credibility.
Maybe even it would turn into something.
I turned the thought over idly in my brain. Andrew was so nice. It would be easy to be in love with someone like him. He wouldn’t leave me feeling pulled in a million different directions.
Yes, I decided right then and there. That was the adult thing to do. It would solve all of my problems. I would fall in love with Andrew.
I would be a real adult.
And I would finally stop thinking about Garrett Thompson.
13
GARRETT
I looked into the movie Destiny had booked because it was my job. I knew she had a manager and an agent, but I needed to make sure it was the right move for her from my perspective. The problem was, I didn’t know shit about movies. I didn’t watch them. So, at our usual Tuesday evening happy hour, I cornered Julian about it.
“Of course I know about it,” he said irritably. “I’m producing it. It’s a good role. She’ll be good in it. I watched her audition footage myself.”
I didn’t know much, but I knew that was unusual. Julian was too high up to vet smaller parts like the one Destiny had landed. I thought about the two of them laughing together at the premiere. At the time, I’d been focused on the way Andrew Quinn’s arm was curved around her waist, but now I looked at the scene through different eyes. What the hell had been so funny?
“I didn’t think it was that important of a role,” I said, trying to keep my voice neutral.
I obviously failed because even Landon, who was on the phone with his fiancé, looked at me, his eyebrows raised.
“It’s not, but I don’t know.” Julian shrugged his shoulders. “I have a feeling about her. I think she can do more than we’ve seen.”
“I think so, too,” Con volunteered from the other end of the table.
“Besides,” Julian frowned at me. “I thought this would help you out, too. Aren’t you working with her?”
I felt my shoulders relax. Julian taking an interest in the career of a B-list actress didn’t track. Julian going the extra mile for one of us did. Shit like this was why he was one of the few people in Hollywood I called a real friend. The others, besides Noemi, were sitting around this table. For a second, though, I’d been gripped with the overwhelming urge to punch him in his golden boy face.
I had to get Destiny Pollock out of my life before the transformation into a paranoid asshole about every guy who came within five feet of her became permanent.
When I tuned back into the conversation, Julian had moved on. As usual, he was inviting us to something. This time it was a Halloween party on the studio lot.
“Your girl will be there,” he said to me, offhandedly.
I wasn’t sure if he meant Noemi or Destiny. I tried to tell myself it didn’t matter; I wasn’t going either way. I liked Halloween about as much as the next adult, but your average adult didn’t like it nearly as much as Julian. Every year, his studio’s Halloween party got more and more over the top. Everyone else in Hollywood got second pick of the makeup artists on October 31, because Julian booked the top ones a year in advance and paid them too well to take any other jobs. It would have been one thing if I could have just shown up with a cape and a Transylvanian accent, but Julian expected us to go as batshit as he did.