6. Chapter Six
And the caption read, “A love affair that reads like a romance novel.”
* * *
With everyone else out of the room, I sit back in my chair and think about what’s been laid on the table. I’ve done more for less money. I already work with this woman, and I know how to tolerate her fancy shoes, her coffee made just so, and her incessant question asking.
I can live with the Chanel No. 5 scent, which I find appalling, and well, I can mess with her, because if she’s in on this, she can’t react. Oh, this could be just the thing I’ve been searching for.
I’m humored now, and when I chuckle, she turns those dark eyes on me.
“What’s so funny?” she asks.
“This whole thing. I can’t believe we’re being asked to fake date. What are we, in some romance novel?”
“I don’t hear anyone asking anything. I think we’re being bribed and forced into this.”
“We don’t have to do it,” I remind her, but I really want that part in her father’s film. I can’t help but think that if Charles Malloy thinks that I’m dating his daughter, it’ll carry some clout.
“If we don’t, you know what will happen?” She leans in toward me. “They’ll bury our careers. We’re not in control here,” she whispers.
She’s right. We’re puppets, but if we do this, the payout will be worth it.
“So, what does it hurt?” I ask. “We’re familiar with one another.”
“Right, so much so that the fact that you chew your ice makes me want to throw something across the room at you,” she says, and I think about the time she did that.
“Yeah, well Chanel stopped at number five for the name—it’s not a suggestion for the number of ounces you should put on in a day,” I counter, and she gasps as if I’d just slapped her.
“You chew with your mouth open,” she says, crossing her arms in front of her.
“Honey, it’d be nice to see you eat. I assume that’s why you’re so bitchy.”
Again, she gasps. I’m sure she’d like to slap me, but we’re trying to work this out, not air our grievances.
I hold up a hand. “We either get on board with this, or we don’t, and we decide we’re screwed.”
She studies me as if she’s considering her options. “Fine. How do we do this?”
“We need to be seen together. We need to have PDA and smile when the other one talks. Starbucks runs, walks through the freaking mall, or on the street. I guess we study Affleck and Lopez, see what they’re doing, and copy that.”
She groans with a shake of her head, but honestly, they have it figured out. An Instagram post here or there and a TikTok dance won’t hurt.
“I know that it all sounds horrible,” I say, “But Penelope Mondragon,” I remind her.
Her eyes widen. She wants it. She wants it so bad, she can taste it.
“I’m not speaking to my father about the movie on your behalf,” she says.
“I wouldn’t ask you to. It sounds like it’s already something. But to be honest, if he’s in on this thinking that you and I are together, maybe it’ll help.”
She worries her lip. “I’m not sure it will. But I want in too.”
“On the relationship?” I ask, raising a brow.
She shakes her head. “I want to be in my dad’s film, too.”
“You’re getting Penelope Mondragon,” I shoot back, because now she’s encroaching on my givens, and she has her own.
“Yes, but my father doesn’t see me as an actress. He doesn’t think I have real talent.”
“I’m supposed to convince him of that?” I ask.
“Not exactly, but if he wants you, and he thinks I’m with you, I can ask to be involved. He’ll do it then. Otherwise, I’m nothing.”
There is a sadness in her eyes when she talks about her father and his opinion of her. I may not care for her personally, but this woman has massive talent. It’s not showcased in these little streaming movies. A Penelope Mondragon movie is where she belongs.
I consider what she’s asking for. I don’t see what it’ll hurt. The man will never let her in his film, no matter what say I have in it. Hell, he didn’t even know she left the awards ceremony. Christina is on her own in this town, even if she is the child of Hollywood royalty.
I just want the part, and I’m willing to sell out my reputation to get it.
“Fine,” I say, agreeing to her being in the film, as if I have any say.
“Fine,” she says.
“Just remember not to fall in love with me.” I wink at her.
Christina rolls her eyes. “As if that could ever happen.”
“It could.”
“It won’t.”
There is a tapping at the door and Penny pokes her head into the room. “They want to know if you’ve come to a decision. They want to make some kind of press release.”
I look at Christina and she looks ill. This could very well backfire and blow up in our faces. But if it doesn’t—well, I just have to consider what great things will come my way.
“We’re all in. You can tell them,” I say.
Penny nods and closes the door.
“I feel sick,” she says.
“You look sick.”
“See what you do to me?”
“You’ll have to get over that, you know.”
“What?” she asks as if she’s confused by it.
“The snide comments. Especially in public. From now on, we need to be a high-profile couple in love. There can’t be any slip-ups. The press is going to be looking for that.”
“I hate this,” she says, gathering her purse and pulling her phone out.
“Yeah, well, honey, it doesn’t appeal to me either. However, my name on a marquee as the star of one of your dad’s films, now that appeals to me.”
She scrolls through items on her phone and then drops it back into her purse with a huff.
Turning in her seat, she looks at me. “There’s nothing in writing. How do I know you won’t stab me in the back?”
“How do I know you won’t do the same?”
“I promise,” she says, resigned.
“I can’t see where that carries weight. You hate me enough, you just might do something to see me crash and burn.”
Her eyes narrow. “I don’t hate you.”
“You sure aren’t a fan.”
“I appreciate your talents.”
Well, that’s something. “Let’s shake on it.”
“That’s going to stop us from screwing one another over?”
“I’m a man of my word. You should know that.”
Christina thinks it over as she studies her manicured fingers. Finally, she holds out her dainty hand and a diamond bracelet dangles from her wrist. “I’m a woman of mine.”
I shake her hand and then hold it there. “I’m going to have to kiss you.”
She eases back. “We’re alone. You don’t have to kiss me.”
I laugh. “Not now, but I’m going to have to do it in public. You’re going to have to react like you do when we’re filming, only there won’t be angles to just get the one reaction. You’re going to have to act as if you enjoy it.”
“Then you’ll have to enjoy kissing me,” she counters.
Admittedly, it’s one of the things I do enjoy about working with her. Though, I assume it’s because when I’m kissing her, she’s quiet.
“Then we’re in agreement. We’re a couple,” I say, needing verbal conformation.
“We’re a couple,” she chokes out the words, and to be honest, I’m not sure she’s not going to be sick.
I let out a long and steady breath.
“Well, let’s go out into the world and give our fans what they want.”
“So that we can get what we want,” she adds, as if saying it aloud validates what we’re selling out for.
“Exactly.”