Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
JOSH
Stephen munched on the bowl of Cheerios cradled in his hands. His usually wolfish beard was trimmed, his feet on the floor instead of perched on Josh’s pristine coffee table. His bedroom door was thrown open, the bed made and his clothes not littering the floor for once. Even from another province, Libby’s influence was rubbing off on Stephen.
That influence had never rubbed off on Cass, though. Her bedroom was probably still a glorious disaster. The scarf hanging off the bedpost, a shirt draped over her slipper chair. Her bedside table a collection of half-drunk cups of water and four different shades of red lipstick. The faint scent of jasmine on her pillow and cinnamon in the air.
A room he’d never see again. Josh swallowed against the pressure in his throat.
Stephen shuffled to the dishwasher and put his dirty dishes in.“Did you see them?”
Josh didn’t look up from his screen. Post-production on Sirius Darker had wrapped. The publicity tour would start in a matter of weeks. Fewer, if Melanie got her way. If she wanted the film out in time for this year’s Oscar buzz, she’d find a way to make it happen. O nce the film was in front of audiences, it was for them to decide.
“See what?” His voice came out gravelly with disuse and fatigue. Maybe if he played stupid, Stephen would shut the hell up and leave him alone.
Another all-nighter writing, and every blink scraped the inside of his eyelids like sandpaper. But the words that had refused to exit his brain for years had flowed through his fingers and onto the word doc like wine, rich and bold and full of complexity.
Tideways was done.
Plus, burying himself in work gave him the excuse not to think about her. Except that she’d been with him the whole time. The portfolio of art he’d borrowed from Cass sat propped up on the corner of his workstation. Each sketch a shot of sunshine straight to his soul.
“If you hadn’t been buried in that screenplay since last week, I’d call out your bullshit.” Stephen leaned back against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms. “The photos.”
Nope, not getting away with ignoring it. Josh ground his molars together and avoided his friend’s pointed stare.
Of course he had seen them. The google alert he’d set for Sirius Darker had pinged him last night.
And we thought D’awwwson was over! Our favourite cutie from Cookeville, TN was seen locking lips with an unknown brunette at the YYC Hot Chocolate Festival last night. They were last seen cozying up to each other on set months ago, but we all thought things had fizzled over Christmas. Looks like they are still going hot (and sweet!) even with production wrapped!
Josh glowered at his screen. “He’s not even from Cookeville,” he muttered. “They just picked that because of the alliteration.”
“That’s what you’re taking from this? ”
“Why the fuck do I put up with you again?”
“My good looks and raw sex appeal.”
Awesome. He scrubbed a hand over his own less than meticulously maintained stubble. “Tell me, oh wise one. What exactly am I supposed to take from this?”
Stephen sighed. “Libby talked to her. It was just one date. They’re friends. That’s all.”
That much was obvious. The photos couldn’t have looked more chaste if they were posing for a tutorial on How to Kiss Like a Virgin. Dawson might as well have had his hands in his pockets for all the touching he was doing.
Even if Dawson had succeeded in behaving like a gentleman, Josh had never managed to hold onto any control around her. To be that close to her, smell her, with her eyes flashing up at him. To dive his hands into her hair and drag her face up to his and steal her breath as he lost his own, pressing his hips against hers until the friction between them incinerated their clothes off their bodies and they lost themselves in each other for hours.
No. After seeing those photos, it was clear nothing was going on between Dawson and Cass.Still. Another man knew what her lips tasted like. And he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
“What Cass does is not my business,” he said flatly.
“For fuck’s sake.” Stephen crossed the few steps from the tiny kitchen and back into the living area, yanking the wireless keyboard out from under Josh’s hands “I’ve watched you act like a prickly bastard for years, having temper tantrums when you can’t use your words like a big boy. ”
If his so-called friend didn’t shut his trap, Josh would rip the keyboard out of his hands and snap it across his knee. “I don’t have temper?—”
“All the time, my dude. You are the most confrontation-phobic person I’ve ever met. I always thought you acted like a dick because you didn’t like people?—”
“I don’t like people.”
“But I think it’s because you don’t want people getting close. And for some ungodly reason, Cass was able to get past your bullshit, but now you’re making both of you suffer because you can’t figure your shit out.”
Fuck. Stephen was right. Wrapping himself in barbed wire had worked. If people didn’t get close, they couldn’t get hurt. If they couldn’t get hurt, he couldn’t disappoint them. Everyone he was close to got hurt or disappointed. His grandparents, his sister, Vivian.
Cass, most of all. She hadn’t done anything wrong except fall in love with the wrong man.
Josh dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t know what to do,” he whispered.
“Yeah, you do. Let her in.”
And show her every embarrassing, ugly part of himself? Fear spider-walked over his skin, and he wanted to shrink his head below the collar of his tee. “How?”
“You’re coming to me for advice about women?”
Not women. Cass. “Just shows you how low I’ve stooped.”
“You know her. You’ll figure it out.” Stephen dropped to the couch and his voice grew softer. “Since we’re being all open and shit, I need to tell you something. I’m moving back to Calgary.”
Josh’s sleep-deprived brain spun in his skull as he turned to look at his best friend. “What?”
“Come on, you can’t be surprised. I’ve been crashing on your couch for a year.”
“You never slept on my couch?—”
“You know what I mean.” Stephen clasped his hands, elbows on his knees. “This isn’t home. And I don’t want to be away from Libby again. We want to have a family, buy a house. Terry has a lead on a permanent gig for me.”
“Well, shit. That’s awesome.”
Stephen was wrong. It was a surprise. Not the moving back to Calgary part. His best friend looked happier and healthier than Josh had ever seen him. What was surprising was that Josh envied him .
When people had said they were getting married for the past few years, he’d scoffed. Silently, because he wasn’t that much of an asshole, but he’d gritted out congratulations while internally recoiling at the thought of a lifetime with the same person. Even standing at the alter with Vivian, he’d never thought about the implications of what a lifetime meant.
But with Cass …
Going to bed with her, waking up with her in his arms. Telling her some filthy joke to get her musical laugh trilling through the air, then her matching his energy. Bringing each other’s visions to life. Going from production to production, wherever the story took them. Vancouver, Calgary, fucking Antarctica.
It didn’t matter where, as long as they were together. Who needed a permanent address when a person was home?
Let her in . If that’s what it took, he’d find a way. Not having her wasn’t an option.
He wiped a hand down his face and turned back to the paparazzi photos.
It wasn’t a mystery where these had come from. Calgary wasn’t exactly a hotbed for paps skulking in bushes, ready to ambush celebrities who’d made the rash decision to go grocery shopping without makeup. Everyone would have thought filming had wrapped. No, this was deliberate.
Dawson was too much of a boy scout to say anything. Brynne hated attention. And Cass …
Cass didn’t have a malicious bone in her body.
But there was one person who had something to gain from this being in the news.
Melanie’s fingers steepled under her chin, eyes narrowed and elbows resting on her desk. It couldn’t have been comfortable with the sha rp ends of her manicured nails cutting into her skin. But it looked good.
At the end of the day, that’s what it always was about. What looked good.
All he could do was hope he looked as half as composed as his boss. Even if it felt like his guts were going to invert themselves onto the imported Persian rug under his feet.
Josh leaned forward in his chair, squaring his shoulders. “We agreed. No PR stunts.”
“It wasn’t a stunt. It was a strategy.”
“A strategy that no one agreed to.”
His stomach twisted in knots. His entire life, he’d avoided confrontations like this. The only way he’d lasted in law as long as he had was by snorting courage and drinking numbness.
And here he was, sober as a—well, sober as a judge—telling the woman who held his career in her hands that he wouldn’t accept it.
An exasperated expression crossed her face. “Scandal works. You think I wanted to show my tits on live streaming?”
“But you made that choice for yourself.Now your choices are affecting our film,” he said, throwing her words back at her.
“It might be our film, but it’s my money.”
“And it’s my team.” Josh tossed the printouts of photos onto her desk. Dawson and Cass. Him and Brynne. “No one agreed to this.”
Melanie gave a contemptuous shake of her head. “No one agrees to this. Once you reach a certain level of fame, you’re under a microscope. I love my husband, but you don’t think every headline that speculates when he’s trading me in for Mrs. Westwood Number Six doesn’t hurt? And you don’t think Brynne will be roasted every time she leaves the house with a zit? Do you think Dawson will get a choice if he’s on some random ‘Southern Gentlemen I Want to Bang’ top ten list?” A rough scoff escaped her throat. “It’s never ending, and if I’ve learned anyt hing in this industry, it’s that you have to grow a thick skin if you want to get anywhere.”
“You’re right. The outside world is a piece of shit. We can’t control what happens outside these walls. But we can do everything we can to give people a safe space within them.” He willed his voice to remain level. “I promised Brynne a closed set. She was in tears when the photos of us showed up online. It took me hours to convince her to come out of her trailer. You made her feel unsafe, and you made me break my word.”
Cass had taught him that. To take care of his team. Even if that meant putting himself between his team and the threat. Fuck, like Dawson had, stepping between him and the grips. To stand up for the people who didn’t have the power.
For the first time, Melanie looked unsure. “She’ll get over it.”
“Maybe. And what about Dawson? He was in the room when agreed to let the story die. Now he knows you’ll go back on your promise the minute it’s convenient. And Cass—” he said, and his voice cracked. Fuck . So much for being stone cold and in control. He cleared his throat. “We didn’t even ask what she wanted.”
If this worked, he’d spend the rest of his life making it up to her.
“There’s a difference between fighting for an advantage and using people to reach it.” Josh drew a breath, heart hammering. “And I won’t work with someone who doesn’t understand that.”
One manicured finger tapped against her lips, eyes narrowing. After a long minute, Melanie spun her chair to face the picture window, the mountains obscured by the low-lying clouds. “Shit.”
Josh gripped his knees. Was that a now-I-have-to-fire-you “shit” or an I-hate-being-wrong “shit”?
Say something more eloquent than um . “What’s it going to be, Westy?”
Where the fuck is this coming from? Guess the fear of confrontation Band-Aid was ripped all the way off .
Melanie jerked her head around. The hard set of her eyes hadn’t softened, but a wry smile fought to take over her cool expression. “I suppose that’s better than what I’ve been called by other people.”
“Other people are dicks. That’s not how I talk to the people I work with.”
Anymore .
She drummed her nails on the desk. “You and I are going to disagree on a lot of things. A lot of things,” she emphasized. “I will make decisions you won’t like. But I promise that you, and anyone involved, will know about it. And I won’t ask anyone to do anything I wouldn’t do.”
A jet of air huffed out of his nose.
“I meant,” she said with a grin, “nothing they aren’t comfortable with.”
As far as apologies went, it wasn’t perfect. Far from it, but relief washed over him. He crossed his arms, tucking his hands under his biceps to hide the shaking. “I can work with that.”
“That’s great, but if we aren’t leveraging soul-sucking gossip sites which, for the record”—she held up a finger—“give cheap publicity, what are we doing instead?”
Being ballsy had worked so far. Josh coughed. “I have a crew ready to put my idea together. Give me a month and a budget and I’ll get our film the attention you’re looking for.”
“Alright.” She shook her head, chuckling. “What do you have in mind?”
That wasn’t so bad.
One gut-churning conversation down, one to go.