9. Nine

9

NINE

I met with Levi and Daisy in the hotel bar once I’d changed my clothes—what was up with that corset top anyway?—and scrubbed the makeup from my face. I moisturized and opted to leave it at that because filming started the next day. I would be caked up with heavy makeup for the foreseeable future and I wanted to let my skin breathe.

“I saw you guys shooting photos over in the Common,” Levi said as he handed me an iced tea. “That looked like fun.”

“Oh, it’s nice that it looked like fun from a distance,” I drawled. The iced tea was good, but I could’ve used something stronger. Time spent with Leo made me want to drink…and not because he was being a jerk for a change. No, this time there had been something else happening.

I’d felt like a sparkler in his arms. That was the only way I could describe what had happened. Every nerve ending was on fire, and there was energy flying this way and that in every direction. Looking into his eyes had caused my skin to catch fire, and I’d never been more uncomfortable in my entire life.

That’s what that feeling had been, right? It was discomfort. I had nothing to compare it to, so I wasn’t certain either way. My head kept telling me I was uncomfortable. The rest of me, though, disagreed. I’d wanted to curl up in his arms and take a nap.

Okay, maybe I’d wanted to do something else before the nap.

What in the ever-loving hell was wrong with me? I had never—not once!—felt anything like that on a set before. Maybe I was going into early menopause. That made people hot, right?

“Is something wrong?” Daisy asked.

I jerked my eyes to her and realized she and Levi had kept talking. I’d been focused on the busy thoughts buzzing through my head—and other parts of me—and they’d been discussing something. What had we been talking about again?

Daisy’s eyes were lit with amusement as she sipped a Shirley Temple. It was full of glitter and made my teeth hurt just looking at it. She seemed happy, though. “How was Leo?” she asked.

“How should I know?” The question came out a lot shriller than I was expecting.

Daisy didn’t take my tone to heart. She just continued to smile. “Weren’t you posing with him?”

“We had to pose together,” I replied. “We’re the main couple. I mean … there will be other couples. The whole show isn’t about us. How boring would that be? We’re the two most boring people in the world when we’re together.” I tried to pretend I wasn’t babbling and that all of that made perfect sense.

“Uh-huh.” Daisy tapped her fingers on the bar. “That’s exactly what I think when I see the two of you together. Man, are they boring. It’s like watching paint dry .”

I wasn’t so far gone that I couldn’t recognize sarcasm when I heard it. “What are you getting at?”

“I’m suggesting that perhaps your problems with Leo stem from the fact that you like him.”

That was the most absurd thing I’d ever heard. “I don’t like him.”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh, I’m sure.” She had to be joking. That was the only explanation. “He’s a complete and total jerk. He was mean to me from the minute we met. Did I mention we sat on the plane together when we were coming out here?”

“You did mention that,” Daisy confirmed. “And he is a jerk. I don’t think he’s a jerk jerk, though.”

Did she just explain something? “What does that mean?”

“I think he’s one of those inner demon jerks. Like … he has a lot of demons and a lot of trauma. He uses his jerkiness as a defense mechanism.”

I grabbed my glass, not immediately registering it was smaller than it had been, and almost choked when I realized there was rum in whatever I’d just swallowed. “What’s this?”

“A Shirley Temple with a little kick,” Levi replied. “It’s called a Shirley Temple Black. I think you’re going to need it.”

I wanted to deny the charge, but it had already been a day. We had another cast meal tonight—which meant I was going to have to see Leo yet again—and when I thought too hard on that, the drink didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

I slammed a third of the cocktail. My first instinct was to continue denying that I liked Leo. Another question bubbled up, though. “Why do you think he has trauma?”

Daisy smirked but didn’t point out the obvious. I was grateful for that. “Because his instincts are to protect you. I saw that firsthand when he tried to pull you out of harm’s way when Lux was losing it.”

“It’s not as if she was going to hurt me,” I scoffed. “By the way, has she had that kid yet?”

“No, but she’s at the hospital.” Daisy grinned. “Even though the doctor told her it wasn’t time, she planted herself in one of the delivery rooms and told them she wasn’t leaving until the baby was out. Rather than argue with her, they gave her the room.”

“So, she basically thinks she’s going to will the baby out of her?”

Daisy shrugged. “If anybody can do it, it’s Lux. She gets things done. We’re not talking about her, though. We’re talking about you and Leo.”

“There is no me and Leo.” That was the only thing I was absolutely certain about.

“His first instinct was to protect you,” Daisy insisted. “If Lux had come at you, he would’ve put his body between the two of you, and he wouldn’t have even thought twice about it.”

She was wrong. She had to be. “That was chivalry. He would’ve done it with anybody.”

“I was there. Heck, I was closer to Lux. He didn’t try to protect me.”

“He was just closer to me.” Even saying it, I wasn’t certain I was telling the truth. “That doesn’t mean anything.” I was vehement when shaking my head. “He’s only tolerating me because I gave him a sob story about this likely being my last chance to hit it big. I’m getting too old.”

Daisy frowned. “You’re only thirty.”

“It doesn’t matter in show business. Men can still get their big break into their forties. Women are basically done at thirty.”

“What a terrible career.” Daisy shook her head. “That’s not germane to this conversation, though. Leo likes you.”

“No, he does not. He made sure to tell me that he didn’t like me.”

“And you made sure to tell him that you didn’t like him, too, right?”

“Of course.” I bobbed my head. “That’s true. I don’t like him.”

“Then why did you get worked up when I said he had trauma?”

“I didn’t get worked up.”

Daisy and Levi snorted in unison.

“I didn’t,” I muttered. “Just out of curiosity, though, why do you think he has trauma?”

“It’s written all over his face,” Daisy replied. “He’s not a jerk. He’s just afraid.”

“It’s probably because of his father,” Levi replied. He was wiping down the bar.

“What’s wrong with his father?” I was honestly curious.

“Did you not actually read up on him when you were cast together?” Levi looked incredulous. “Wow. That’s just … wow. I read up on all of you as you were getting cast. There’s not actually a lot out there about you, though.”

“That’s because I’m a nobody.”

“Don’t.” Daisy shot me a stern look. “You’re not a nobody. You’re somebody important.”

I was much more interested in Leo. “What did it say about his father?”

“Well, apparently, when Leo was sixteen, the cops were called to his house.” Levi rested his elbows on the counter. “It was a domestic violence situation. Leo beat the crap out of his father. He said it was to protect his mother. His mother, however, lied and protected the father, even though she was covered in bruises.”

I felt sick to my stomach. “I didn’t know that.”

“It wasn’t buried that deep,” Levi said. “Leo refuses to talk about it in interviews, but his hometown paper did a big exposé. Leo went to juvie when he was sixteen for the attack on his father. All of the neighbors said that the father was constantly abusive to the mother, and the judge saw through it when it came time for trial. Leo was actually put in a foster home one town over rather than be found guilty. Supposedly, according to the article, he’s never been back to his hometown since.”

I didn’t like that story one bit. “So, you think he’s just a jerk on the surface to protect himself.”

Daisy nodded. “He was betrayed by the one person who should’ve protected him. He got screwed when trying to protect her. He keeps finding himself in trouble on sets—I think he has a bit of a temper—but his biggest problem is that he seems to retreat into himself whenever there’s any strife whatsoever. He never stands up for himself when these charges of being difficult are levied on him. He just becomes the scapegoat.”

Now I was mad at myself. Why hadn’t I seen that about Leo?

You did, a voice whispered inside my head. That’s why you can’t stop trying to help him. You saw he was struggling.

I had seen that. My problem was, Leo was not the sort of person who was just going to open up and talk about his trauma. I couldn’t help him if he didn’t want to be helped.

Right?

I DRESSED IN A PURPLE COCKTAIL DRESS FOR dinner. It wasn’t too low cut—I’d gotten more than my fair share of cleavage action in the bustier—and opted for comfortable heels. This was our last night of freedom before early casting calls would force us into bed early.

I was actually looking forward to that. Having too much free time on my hands wasn’t working out so well for me these days.

We were taking over the bar area again. The email that was sent out said it would be a buffet. We were expected to mingle, get to know the crew, and bond. They kept using that word. Bond. They wanted us to bond as a cast so that was obvious onscreen. Just saying they wanted it to happen didn’t mean it was actually going to happen, though.

Leo was on one of the stools at the bar when I entered the room. He was alone—everybody else was milling about the table and having a good time. There was no hesitation when I walked up to him this time, though. Hearing the story about his parents had crushed my heart into smithereens. I was careful not to show any pity, though. If I did that, Leo would shut down right away … and never emerge again.

“Hey.” I looked over at the bartender. It wasn’t Levi for a change. “Can I have a Shirley Temple Black?”

Leo gave me an odd look. “What the hell is that?”

“Levi’s signature drink,” the bartender replied. He was older than Levi by a good ten years, but he seemed to be just as good-natured. “I’m Hank. I’ll be serving you this evening. I can definitely get you a Shirley Temple Black.”

I sent him a thumbs-up.

“You good?” Hank asked Leo.

“Yeah.” Leo didn’t smile. His ever-present frown wasn’t in attendance this evening either.

“Did you see we’re getting a seafood bar for dinner tonight?” I asked, grappling for a conversation starter.

Leo slid his eyes to me. “No, but I’ll pretty much eat anything.”

“Really? I’m kind of picky. I like seafood but hate fish.”

“Don’t fish live in the sea?”

“Fine.” I shot him a look full of exasperation. “I guess it’s more apt to say that I like shellfish.”

“Then you should be happy tonight.” Leo played with the straw in his drink. “Why are you over here? I thought you hated me.”

“And I thought we were going to be friends.”

He scratched his upper lip, seemingly debating. “I’m not sure I’m going to be a very good friend,” he said finally.

“You’ll be fine,” I assured him. “I think you’re better at it than you want to admit.”

“I don’t have any friends, though.”

“Well, you do now.” I saluted him with the drink Hank shoved in front of me. “To new friendships and high viewership numbers.”

He burst out laughing. “You really are the sun, aren’t you?”

It was perhaps the nicest thing anybody—not just him, we’re talking anybody—had ever said to me. “I try to be.”

“You’re good at it.”

Would I be able to keep it up, though?

TO NOBODY’S SURPRISE, THEY PAIRED ME WITH Leo at dinner. They put all the couples next to each other for more bonding. Dinner was raucous. Sylvia and Ed seemed to be trying to outdo one another to see who could tell the most ridiculous stories. If half of them were even close to true, I would’ve been surprised.

Leo’s proximity did funny things to my heart and head. Now that I knew his origin story—and why hadn’t I googled him when I heard he’d been cast?—I was stuck between sympathy and annoyance, because it wasn’t sympathy making my heart flutter. Occasionally, it made my heart pinch, but it wasn’t the cause of the fluttering feeling I couldn’t quite seem to shake. No, the fluttering was something else.

I was starting to think it was his stupid face. Why did he have to be so handsome? It was as if he’d crawled out of the pages of some men’s magazine and plopped himself down in a chair next to me.

While I ate my weight in shellfish—Leo laughed at least eight times when the servers had to clear plates of discarded shells from in front of me—he stuck to a steak and a baked potato. He didn’t even put any sour cream on it.

“I have to maintain my weight,” he explained to me when I made a face. “I’m supposed to be a vampire. Vampires don’t get bellies.”

“Yeah, but…it’s a dry baked potato.” I leaned over his plate and cursed myself for having that fourth drink. I was tipsy now, and I regretted it. Thankfully, I didn’t have to be on the set until ten o’clock the next day. I had plenty of time to hydrate. I’d still drank too much, and that wasn’t like me. I blamed Leo. His proximity was making me stupid.

“I happen to like dry baked potatoes,” he countered.

I looked back at the crab carcasses that littered the table in front of me. “You don’t like shellfish?”

“I’ve never really tried it.” He was sheepish. “I don’t branch out often when it comes to food.”

I had questions. I didn’t ask them, though. This was the most open he’d been with me since we’d met. My questions all revolved around his situation when he was growing up. Perhaps he’d never had the opportunity to try shellfish because his father was a jerk and his foster home couldn’t afford it. I knew if I brought up either of those topics that he would shut down. I didn’t want that.

“We’ll go out to dinner, and I’ll let you try some of my stuffed lobster one night,” I suggested.

He cocked an eyebrow. “We’re going out to dinner?”

“Friends go out to dinner.”

When he smiled, something inside of me loosened. He looked ten years younger and eighty degrees hotter when he smiled. It was probably best that he didn’t do it all the time because my panties would catch fire on their own accord if he did.

“Maybe.” He glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was getting late. “I’m about to go to bed.”

Was he inviting me to join him? Wait … of course not. What a stupid assumption to jump to. He most definitely wasn’t inviting me.

Then what was he doing?

“You’ve had four drinks,” he continued.

“Thanks for keeping track,” I replied dryly.

“I don’t care how much you drink. You’re a big girl. It’s just…” He trailed off for a beat, seemingly considering it, then sighed. “I don’t want to leave you down here with Ed.”

I darted a look toward the man in question, who was in the corner talking closely with one of the production members. She was young—not even twenty-five—and she giggled at whatever he whispered to her. “He’s going to run through the whole production crew, isn’t he?” I realized out loud.

“He is,” Leo confirmed. “I think you should go upstairs and get some rest. Tomorrow is a big day.”

“Are you watching out for me?” I teased.

“That’s what friends do, right?” Apparently, he was open to playing the friend game after all.

“They do.” I made up my mind on the spot. “Let’s go.”

We said our goodbyes. Nobody looked in our direction. When we got off the elevator on our floor, I became desperate for something to talk about. “Are you excited for tomorrow?”

“Sure.” Leo smiled.

“No, you’re not,” I said on a laugh. “You’re just doing it because it’s a job. You don’t actually like the material we’re working with.”

“You don’t know.” He stopped with me, his door on his left, mine on my right. “I might learn to love it.”

I didn’t believe him. “Thanks for forcing me upstairs. I would’ve been mad at myself if I let Sylvia talk me into another drink.”

“I figured.” He leaned closer and his lips were tantalizingly close to mine. Or maybe I was just imagining it. Then he leaned back. There had been a moment—I was almost certain of it—but it passed before I could even debate what it meant … or potentially take advantage of it. “Take some Advil,” he said. “Drink a bottle of water. Set your alarm to get up early enough for breakfast. You’re going to need it.”

The sigh that escaped was wistful, and the way he cocked his head told me he registered it. “Thank you for everything today, Leo. I only got through it because of you.”

He swallowed hard. “That’s not true. You got through it yourself. I was just there.”

“You just can’t take a compliment, can you?”

His smile split his handsome face. “I’ll work on it. Now get in there. I’m not leaving until I know you’re safely in your room.”

“I’m going.” I pulled out my keycard. “I’m serious about getting you to try some seafood, though. I won’t rest until my mission has been accomplished.”

“Won’t that be fun?”

“Oh, you have no idea.”