7. Chapter Seven
And the woman who gossips in Sal’s office says,“I bet you ten bucks she gets him fired before this is over.”
* * *
I’d feel better if there was a contract. Something written on paper that says, If I pretend to be in love with Graham Crowley, I absolutely get a Penelope Mondragon film. But this is a handshake deal, made with a man I can’t stand, among others who are out to reap the benefits of me selling myself out.
I’ve never been “attached” to a man before. I’ve dated, but no one cared.
Yes, I was born into a Hollywood family. Yes, I’m depicted as the California princess. But no one has ever looked my way—until now.
I don’t want to credit Graham for that either. I got my own parts and I’m holding my own. Sure, timing helps. I was one of the first actresses in the films that the Love Is in the Air network contracted for multiple films.
My father didn’t do that.
My mother didn’t do it either.
And my coupling on screen with Graham Crowley didn’t do that either.
But now I’ve sold my soul to the devil for a bigger chance. Hollywood is full of people living with this same regret. At least I don’t have to take my clothes off to have made this deal.
Graham takes my hand in his as we exit the building and head toward my car.
My first instinct is to pull back, but it’s as if I have a little demon on my shoulder whispering in my ear the reminder of what I’ve done. The man gets to touch me and kiss me in public. If I want the rewards that are to come, then I need to let him do just that—touch and kiss me in public.
“What do you say to lunch?” he asks.
I turn my head to look up at him as we stop at my car. “You’re asking me to lunch?”
“I am. We can split the bill,” he says with a grin.
“Why would I want to go to lunch with you?”
“Because you’re my girlfriend,” he reminds me. “Actually, I was thinking that we could just go to Whole Foods, grab some take-and-go thing, and head back to one of our places. Perhaps mine, since I came with Sandra, so I don’t have a ride.”
I nod slowly and slip on my sunglasses.
“Fine, but when we get to your place, I’m not touching you.”
He lifts a brow. “Why would you say that?”
“I mean that this ends when we’re in private. I don’t have to be nice to you.”
“So, it’s fair game that goes both ways?” he asks.
“I guess so.”
“Fine. Give me your keys.”
I grip my purse to my chest. “I’m not giving you my keys.”
“Yes, you are. One of the first signs that we’re together and that you trust me is you letting me drive your car.”
I narrow my eyes at him, not that he can see that through the darkness of my glasses. “Only I drive my car.”
“Well, now, so does your boyfriend. C’mon, I’ll open the passenger door for you, honey.”
“We’d better get our payoff soon,” I growl as I walk around the car and Graham laughs. I’m just not sure how long I can do this.
Deciding not to go all out yet, we stop at a boutique grocery store, rather than a chain. Graham takes a selfie of us looking at the shelves, and I smile sweetly. He sends it to me and tells me to gram it when we get back to the car.
We still have a few stunned onlookers, but at least there isn’t a mob. Graham takes a selfie with someone while I am turned around looking in the deli case, and the woman who checks us out is a bit star struck, but admittedly, we make it through a public venue, holding hands, smiling sweetly, and back to the car.
Graham puts our bag in the back seat, and I climb into the car.
I take a moment to just catch my breath. This man is no stranger. I’m familiar with him at my side, with his hand in mine, and his voice in my ear. But this is a whole new level of chaos that has my body buzzing. I just hope I don’t regret my decision.
As Graham climbs into the car, I take out my phone and bring up Instagram. There’s a heaviness in my chest as I bring up the picture of us shopping. I will never admit this aloud, but we are cute together.
I pop in the picture and add some fluff to it by saying that we’re going to have a lovely lunch, just the two of us. It posts and I feel ill.
As Graham situates himself behind the steering wheel of my car, I let out a breath and cross my arms.
“Hungry?” Graham says, his lips twisting up in a smirk.
“Don’t go accusing me of being bitchy because I’m hungry. I’m already exhausted, and all we did was walk through a market.”
“Exhausted? Maybe you need more sleep,” he says as he starts the car.
I turn, pull off my sunglasses, and level a look at him. “It’s not about how much sleep I get. I’m exhausted trying to smile while you’re in my presence.”
“It’s going to be happening a lot. So, get used to it.”
“Only in public,” I counter.
He turns in his seat to face me. He’s still smiling. “If you think that laying into me when we’re in the car is safe, you’re wrong. I will guarantee that if we sit here more than two minutes, there will be pictures of our little lovers’ spat all over the internet.”
I grit my teeth and slide my sunglasses back on. I hate that he’s right, and I’m not going to tell him he is.
He puts the car in drive and starts driving.
We don’t speak as he drives through town, and I realize he’s headed to my place, not his. I didn”t realize he even knew where I lived until he pulls up in front of the security gate.
“I thought we were going to your place,” I say.
Graham shakes his head. “Yours was closer. Code please,” he says and my mouth gapes open. Does he really think I’m going to share that with him?
“No way.”
“I can just sit here, or you can reach over me and type it in. I’ll close my eyes.”
I swallow. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this!
I unbuckle my seatbelt and start over the center console, and him, and through the open window. I feel his hands on my back.
“Don’t touch me,” I growl as I try to reach the buttons on the control pad for the gate, my breasts squishing up against the door.
“If I sit here with my hands in the air, it looks weird.”
“This whole thing is weird,” I say as I try to ease myself back into my seat and fix my skirt.
Graham pulls through the gate.
“Which door?” he finally asks, and I point to the correct one and push the button to raise the garage door.
The door to the garage goes up and he pulls the car in.
“Security gate and private garage. Nice place,” he says.
“Don’t tease me.”
“Who’s teasing? I mean it. Nice place.”
I eye him coolly. He hasn’t even seen my place to tell me it’s nice.
“And your little bungalow in Burbank isn’t nice?”
“Not like this. No security. Garage door doesn’t work well. I need to get it fixed. I have a roommate and a dog.”
“You have a dog?” I find it odd that I don’t know that.
“Yep. Black lab named Loki.”
“Loki?”
He pulls his sunglasses from his face and hangs them from the front of his shirt. “Yeah, Loki. Thor’s brother?” he says in the form of a question, as if that’s supposed to make me know what he’s talking about. “Seriously? You were born and raised here, and you don’t know Thor and Loki?”
“I don’t know Loki, but I’ve heard of Thor.”
“Heard of Thor.” He shakes his head. “Shit, what kind of isolated island do you live on?”
“Are you seriously going to sit in my car, in my garage, and hassle me over this?”
“Yes,” he says with confidence. “No one in Hollywood doesn’t know Loki. Marvel Universe. The god of mischief.”
I purse my lips. “I only know of Thor, but I know Iron Man.”
He laughs. “It’s a start. We have to remedy this.”
“I don’t think we do.”
Graham opens the car door and steps out. “Oh, yes, we do. I’m staying here until you’ve seen at least two Marvel movies with Thor and Loki.”
“I really?—”
“Oh, my sweetest love,” he grins, “you have no choice. Let’s go.”