4. Summer
4
SUMMER
“T his is all wrong.” I grabbed the hem of my sundress and pulled it over my head, balling it up and throwing it on the floor of what was going to be my motel room for one more night. First thing tomorrow, Claudia and I would load everything up into the back of her old Chevy to move into the apartment on Wilshire we’d found this morning.
It had been a whirlwind. Last night was spent searching through listings after the impromptu meeting with Lex. We were almost giddy with the possibilities while sharing a bottle of chardonnay. “Might as well shoot your shot,” Claudia had pointed out more than once as we scrolled through eye-popping listings. Some of those apartments cost in one month what I had spent on my first car.
But she had a point. What was the worst thing Lex could say? No, it’s too expensive? The idea made me giggle. We hadn’t known each other for long, but I could read a person. It meant swallowing his pride and admitting he couldn’t afford it, which he’d never do. Not a man like him, with something to prove, not to mention his deep pockets.
Still, after we had toured the two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment in the heart of Beverly Hills, I had called Lex’s direct number with my heart in my throat. Yet when I quoted the price, he didn’t balk for a second. “That sounds reasonable. Have the property manager forward me the agreement, and I’ll have my assistant handle the details.”
And that was it. It was that simple. It wasn’t even ten o’clock yet, which meant we had plenty of time to scout shooting locations. I already had a handful in mind, confirming how perfect they were while Claudia and I drove from place to place.
There was only one problem as I dug through the few decent outfits I owned, hoping to look presentable tonight. It was the fact that Lex Landry wanted me to meet him at his house in the Hills for dinner.
“Would you relax? It doesn’t mean anything,” Claudia reminded me for maybe the hundredth time since he had dropped that bombshell.
I called to tell him I had a list of locations, and he had announced he’d send a driver to pick me up at eight o’clock and drive me to his house, where we’d go over the locations and the shooting schedule.
“Why can’t we do this in public?” I asked, pulling out a pair of linen pants that needed a quick ironing. “I told him what happened with Clyde. I’m not supposed to think there’s something fishy about this?”
“He figures you’ll trust him because he knows what happened,” she countered. “You said he seemed pretty pissed off about it.”
“He did,” I admitted.
“And honestly,” she continued, picking up my sundress off the floor and shaking it out. “What are you supposed to do? Meet up at some fancy restaurant and spread a bunch of work across the table? It’s a working dinner. You either do it here, at the studio, or his house.”
“Why do you always have to make so much damn sense?” I muttered, holding the pants up in front of me and checking out my reflection in the mirror. “I don’t know. Does this look right?”
“I think your instincts were right with the dress.”
“I don’t want him thinking I dressed up for him.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have blown out your hair and put on makeup,” she pointed out in a gentle voice, chuckling.
“I’m wearing mascara and lip gloss. That’s not makeup.”
“Sure, whatever you say. Wear the dress,” she concluded, flopping onto the bed and picking up the remote to turn on the television. “And consider yourself lucky. I’m looking forward to Chinese delivery tonight.”
“Don’t even pretend Chinese isn’t your favorite.”
“When I’m not eating it in some crappy motel,” she muttered. “I’m sure it would taste a little better if I were at a house in the Hills with a wealthy movie producer.”
“Don’t make it sound like something it’s not.” Because I knew she wouldn’t let it go, I put the powder blue dress back on, telling myself to ignore the way the tiny pleats under the bust line pushed my boobs up and out. I couldn’t help myself as I adjusted them, fretting a little.
“Why are you so afraid of being beautiful?” she asked.
“Because it can be a liability,” I fired back without thinking. Our eyes met in the mirror, and I shrugged. “We’ve both met men like him. They see a pair of boobs, and their brains click off. I wanna be taken seriously.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to cover yourself up all the time. You look really nice,” she told me with a thumbs up. “And the car will be here any minute, so put your shoes on.”
“Wow, what would I do without you?” I asked, rolling my eyes. “I might’ve walked out barefoot. Thanks, Mommy. ” She only laughed, flipping through channels while I silently panicked.
I’d told her about the talk we had last night back at the studio office. What I didn’t tell her was the way I felt when he left. He had surprised me. Maybe I had underestimated him, figuring he’d laugh off my story about Clyde. The man had been in the industry for fifty years, and he was the sort of guy people didn’t accuse of things if they wanted to get a job in this town.
But Lex had accepted it without question. He had been angry, for my sake. He had looked disgusted when I told him about Eric. And he was determined to make a good movie. He had skin in the game, the same as I did, and it wasn’t only financial. He was worried about more than the bottom line.
It was refreshing.
At exactly eight o’clock, there was a knock on the door. I opened it with my heart in my throat and was greeted by a man in a dark suit. “Miss Strawbridge? Mr. Landry sent me to pick you up.”
“Have fun and chill out!” Claudia whispered as I grabbed the shoulder bag that held my binder, laptop, andeverything I’d put together so far for the movie.
My knees shook as I followed the driver to the long, sleek limo. He’d sent a goddamn limousine. Who was he trying to impress?
All right, so maybe I was a little impressed as I ducked inside and sank into a leather seat. Maybe it wasn’t completely evil to make a lot of money from movies. Not that I would admit that to Lex. He still had a long way to go before I was convinced he was a thoroughly decent guy.
One thing I knew for sure as the car finished rolling up a winding road was the man had a more than decent house. Plate glass windows meant a view of the sprawling interior, while discreet lighting shows off meticulous landscaping. I’d bet my entire paycheck for the movie that there was a big pool around back and a breathtaking view.
I’d lived in a trailer until I was ten, sharing a tiny room with two sisters. It was only when Dad had landed a teaching job at UCLA that we were able to move into a house with more than two bedrooms, not that it was much more comfortable. I was raised to hate everything about this lifestyle.
Climbing out of a limousine, walking up the flagstone path of a Hollywood Hills mansion to have dinner with a studio executive. It meant selling out, sacrificing my art on the altar of money.
Was it wrong to want to make this work on my terms? Did I have to go through life scraping by if it meant being an artist?
The front door swung open, and I was treated to the sight of a freshly showered Lex. His dark brown hair turned black with the water that still dripped and soaked into his pale green T-shirt. A pair of gray sweatpants completed the outfit. He was on the phone, scowling, barely waving me in before turning and padding barefoot across the hardwood floor.
And there I was, wearing a sundress so thinthatmy nipples went hard in the air conditioning. I tried to ignore them and the sense of being overdressed while following Lex past a sunken living room and a room that had to be his office, with a desk, computer, and a window behind it that looked out over the big pool I had imagined.
“Give me a second.” He pulled the phone away from his ear, scowling as he muted it. “I’ve been running late all day after a meeting went an hour too long. My cook left salad and antipasto in the refrigerator. Kitchen’s that way, help yourself.” He jerked his chin toward the kitchen up ahead while heading into his office.
What the hell was this? A power play? Forget a sundress or even linen slacks. I should’ve thrown on my workout clothes if this were the respect I’d get tonight. Instead of setting the food out like a member of his staff, I pulled out my laptop and binder and began spreading out on the white marble island.
The room was sort of clinical in all white, but it probably glowed in the morning when sunshine streamed in through the huge windows lining the back wall.
I was reviewing a task list when I heard Lex’s soft footsteps. “I only threw this on after my shower so I could make that call,” he explained behind me. “Give me a minute to make myself presentable.”
“No need,” I replied without turning away from my work. Even the addition of the folder he placed near me didn’t break my focus. “You look fine. I didn’t get the food out, though. That’s not in my contract.”
He growled and muttered something about splitting hairs as he went to the refrigerator and pulled out items. I saw him out of the corner of my eye and wished his ass didn’t look quite so delectable when he bent to look for something on one of the lower shelves.
But it was the way his dick moved under those sweatpants when he turned to the side that set my cheeks on fire. Was he wearing underwear? Well, I had told him not to bother getting changed, hadn’t I? My pulse picked up speed, but I fought to ignore it as Lex set various things on the marble countertop. “Wine?” he asked, bending to open a door on his side of the island.
I needed to keep a clear head, but I needed to ease my nerves more. “Sure. Thanks.” Looking up from my binder, I found an array of meats, cheeses, olives, and spreads on one platter. On another, there was grilled chicken and vegetables. He added a long baguette to the spread, then opened a bottle of white wine.
“Let’s talk actresses,” I suggested, bypassing the meats in favor of tearing off a hunk of bread and pairing it with a piece of sharp cheddar. The flavor exploded across my tongue. Note to self. Buy some good cheese . Now that I had a full-size refrigerator in my new apartment, I could fill it with my favorites. Another perk of being gainfully employed.
“Let me pour the wine first,” he countered, shaking his head a little as he pulled out a pair of glasses. “Take a breath.”
“You take a breath. I’ll cast this movie.”
He turned slowly away from the cabinet above the deep sink. “Oh. That. I wanted to talk with you about that tonight.”
“Here I am. Let’s talk.” I popped a briny olive into my mouth and quickly went for another. It had been a busy day, and I hadn’t taken much time to eat.
He set a glass down in front of me, meeting my gaze. There’d have to come a point where I would get over the fluttering in my stomach whenever that happened. I could only pretend to ignore it for so long, and the cold wine didn’t do much to cool the heat in my chest, either.
“We’ve already been in talks with a cast for the film. Rather, we arranged it prior to our first meeting.” He waved a hand between us, sipping from his glass.
I had to be hearing things. Was I dreaming? “You’re already casting?” I asked, waiting for him to laugh and say it was all a joke. Except he didn’t. It wasn’t.
“The folder I brought in contains the headshots of our cast, along with everything we need to know about them… their requests, any precautions we need to take, like with Danica Cole and her bee allergy. We need the medic on hand during her outdoor shoots, just in case.”
Danica Cole. A big-breasted blonde without much obvious talent who the industry had been cramming down the world’s collective throat for the past year. I couldn’t remember a single name of one of her projects, she was that forgettable.
I opened the folder with a trembling hand, my entire body filling with dread and a sense of defeat. This was all a joke from the beginning. I was never in control, was I?
“We need a sure thing here, Summer.” He put together a small plate for himself, talking as he did. “We need big names, box office track records.”
I chewed a slice of grilled squash but didn’t taste a thing as I flipped through the images of familiar actors. “You cast my movie without me. We have a cast, and I’m only finding out about it now?”
“Don’t take it personally.”
That was the cherry on top of my shit sundae. The way he said that and sounded like he meant it. Rather than open my mouth and let every ounce of my rage come pouring out, I slowly drank my wine until the glass was empty, searching for something to say that wouldn’t get me fired or result in me breaking down in tears. “I knew it.” I finally sighed, even laughing softly. “In the end, it doesn’t matter if we make the best movie possible. Those were pretty words you fed me. Only one thing makes a difference to people like you.”
The fucker had the nerve to roll his eyes and was lucky I didn’t throw something at him for it. “Please, can we be adults about this? You’re about a heartbeat away from taking it too far.”
The sanctimonious prick. I was almost blind with rage, and he wanted to talk about being adults? “Another cowardly move,” I whispered, watching his tan complexion go darker. Did I hurt the baby’s feelings? Poor thing. “Whatever it takes, so long as you help the Hollywood machine pump out the same old bullshit. Have you ever respected your audience for a minute, or do you figure they’ll pay either way?”
He threw his hands into the air, barking out a laugh that echoed throughout the room. “Give it up, already!”
“Not when we both know it’s true!”
“Let’s get something straight. Just because I didn’t go to film school or spend years scraping and fighting in the trenches for my ‘art’…” he made air quotes around the word art, which only made me grind my teeth, “… that doesn’t mean I don’t care about the process. I’m not looking to make some formulaic, brainless blockbuster, Summer.”
“What are you looking to make? Because all of your so-called casting suggestions have been predictable and uninspired. What else am I supposed to think?” I shoved the folder across the counter when I would’ve liked to cram it down his throat.
Slamming a palm against the counter, he growled out, “You’re supposed to think I want this movie to make money, goddammit.”
“Of course!” I barked out a laugh. “Because that’s all that matters. Money. ”
“It sort of helps. It’s helping you stay in a gorgeous apartment for the next six months, isn’t it?”
“Don’t hold that over my head,” I warned.
He lifted a shoulder. “I was only calling you out on your hypocrisy.”
“My hypocrisy?” I asked, laughing again. “Oh, get over yourself. If I’m going to be beholden to you all because you’ve signed a short-term lease for me, you can spare us both. I’d rather live in a motel for the next six months than have to kiss your ass just because of an apartment.”
“You are more than welcome to.” His stony face and steely-eyed stare sent apprehension skittering down my spine. He was serious. He wasn’t going to back down.
Neither was I. It wasn’t what I did. “Fine. I will. I wouldn’t want to owe you anything if it meant sacrificing my vision.”
“There you go with your vision,” he muttered, waving a hand. “Has anyone ever taught you the meaning of the word compromise?”
“Oh, sure,” I retorted. “I compromised by doing ninety percent of the work on Road to Glory and got zero percent of the credit. Yeah, that worked out really well.”
“You’re going to have to let go of that.”
“Thanks for the advice.”
He growled, drawing a deep breath through clenched teeth. His smoldering brown eyes went nearly black. There was something wild about him, but I wasn’t afraid. Instinctively, I knew this wouldn’t turn into something ugly or violent.
No, it wasn’t fear that left goose bumps covering my arms. It was something else, something I barely recognized and sort of resented myself for. How could I not respond to the energy in the air and his heavy breathing? My breath quickened while my pulse picked up speed.
And when our eyes met, a bolt of energy raced through me like I had stuck my finger in an outlet. I was surprised my hair didn’t stand on end.
“There is a middle ground,” he gritted out, his teeth still clenched. “Between fulfilling your vision and making the sort of choices that will help this movie make money. That’s why, even though you know a completely unknown and untested actress might be a good fit for a role, you might be better off going with a bigger name who has already proven herself more than capable. Just because she’s not exactly what you had envisioned doesn’t mean she’s the wrong choice. Your vision isn’t the only one that matters.”
“ You can’t always have everything your way. ” Fuck Eric for popping up in my head when he did. That patronizing tone of his. Always knowing best, practically patting me on the head like a spoiled child. We had gone to school together, for God’s sake, and were exactly the same age. Yet he had the nerve to act like an expert.
I stepped down from the stool I was perched on, slowly rounding the island, glaring at him. He was hot, but he was an arrogant prick. I needed to focus on the second part more than the first. “I was hired to do a job. How do you expect me to do my best when you throw a cast at me without my input or approval?”
“When are you going to realize you’re not in a position to give approval? You are untested, untried. Frankly, you’re lucky to have this opportunity,” he concluded with a wave of his hand, though he might as well have slapped me with it.
“Is this the part where you encourage me to suck your dick as thanks? I mean, here we are,” I reminded him, spreading my arms to the sides. “Alone in your house. And all you can do is remind me of how grateful I should be for the scraps you’re throwing around.”
“Scraps?” He threw his head back and laughed, making my face go hot with frustration along with embarrassment.
All of it swirled together and hardened into something more familiar. Rage. “Yes!” I snapped. “That’s what I said. This is a great opportunity on the surface, but that’s it. Otherwise, I’ll have to smile, nod, shake hands, play nice and basically lie.”
“Nobody’s asking you to do any of that. In fact, Summer Strawbridge, I’m starting to think you’re not worth the fucking trouble.” He slapped his hands against the marble counter againandturned away from me, his broad shoulders heaving while he hung his head between them.
“Okay. Fine. You’re doing me a favor,” I muttered, grabbing things at random with my shaking handsandshoving them into my bag. To think, I cared how I looked tonight. I wanted to make a good impression. When would I learn it didn’t matter how hard I tried?
He snorted in derision. “That’s right. Run away. Shit got too hard, somebody told you no, and you’re going to bounce.”
“If that’s what you need to tell yourself, go right ahead,” I gritted out. “I’m sure the brain-dead idiots around town will believe it. Critical thinking has never been their specialty.”
He raised his head. “All right. Wait.” It was like taking a few seconds to think made him see the error of his ways. Good. But I wasn’t that easy to convince.
When I kept packing my bag, he wedged himself between me and the counter. “I said wait, dammit. Let’s take a step back. We both said things?—”
“I meant every word,” I told him as he came up with some empty platitude. “This entire situation has been bait-and-switch. First, you fuck with my scheduling. Now, you tell me the movie’s already been cast. This is a figurehead position. That’s not what I signed on for.”
“Why is everything black and white all the time?” Folding his arms meant his biceps bulged right in my line of sight. I had to force myself not to gape at them.
“Why can’t you admit I’m getting the shaft in all of this? It’s not fair.” I stared up at him, unblinking, daring him to look away. If he had any decency, I would see shame in those coffee-colored orbs. There was nothing there but arrogancelike I had expected.
“At the risk of sounding geriatric, kid, life isn’t fair. This industry is anything but fair.”
“You know… I know all about that,” I whispered.
“For fuck’s sake, take an opportunity when it presents itself. Don’t shoot yourself in the foot.” His eyes searched my face, his mouth working silently before he found the right words. “If you really did direct and edit Road to Glory , you’re too damn good to sabotage yourself. Don’t waste this opportunity.”
“What if it doesn’t feel like an opportunity?” Something was wrong. I felt a little dizzy and giddy, but it had nothing to do with the wine and everything to do with beautiful eyes and sensual mouth. Something about it left me staring while an honest-to-God party erupted in my panties. My knees went weak, and for one breathless, insane moment, I pictured myself leaning against him for support. Maybe even touching my nose to his chest to breathe in his spicy cologne— masculine, like leather, spice, and tobacco.
This was a mistake. I should never have come, and I definitely shouldn’t have accepted the wine. It would be too easy to forget every principle I ever had in this man’s presence—his hot, commanding, overwhelming presence.
His throat worked while his gaze drifted between my eyes and mouth. “Then it looks like I’m going to have to drag you through this kicking and screaming,” he murmured, and suddenly, he was a lot closer, leaning down, filling my world with his chiseled face. “It’s your choice, Strawbridge.”
How was I supposed to resist this? How, when every cell of my body cried out for him to finally end this breathless, heart-pounding tension? He looked at my mouth one last time, and I bit my lip, waiting, hanging on his every breath.
He blinked hard, shaking his head a little. “Hang on,” he muttered, his voice thick, likea man waking from a dream when he didn’t know he was asleep in the first place.
Hang on, indeed. “Right,” I whispered, trembling, my heart bursting out of my chest. What the hell were we doing? Was I seriously considering testing the taste of his lips? Damn wine. That had to be the problem.
He backed up, hands clenched at his sides. “That got a little too heated,” he grunted out, strained.
“It’s not a big deal,” I muttered, slinging the bag over my shoulderandlooking at the floor. I still couldn’t look at him. “But I really have to go, anyway.”
“What about?—”
“We’ll work it all out.” I practically ran from the kitchen like it was on fire, my head down, my face burning with humiliation. “Can your driver take me home, please?”
“Of course. Summer, please,” he insisted as he followed me. “Can we at least try to reach an understanding?”
“It’s a waste of time,” I replied, stopping at the front door and turning to find him looking apologetic, maybe even remorseful. “We’re not going to see eye-to-eye. You know how much this movie means to me. I know how much it means to you. Let’s keep that in mind, all right?”
“All right.” He held up his hands, surrendering. “You have the cast list. Rehearsals start next week.”
Dammit. He had me trapped now. I was too desperate to get the hell out of there and avoid further humiliation to hang around and argue about a rushed rehearsal schedule. I had to accept itsince nothing mattered more at the moment than getting far away from him.
What a shame his driver couldn’t take me to the other side of the planet since nothing short of that would ease my disappointment as I hurried out of the house, almost blinded by tears.
I’d never get what I wanted, how I wanted it.
At the moment, it seemed Lex Landry was part of that.