Lennox
I’ve done a press tour before. It felt like work.
Hard work. Long days. Pure exhaustion. But this, spending day in and day out with Jace by my side, answering questions playfully and with sincerity of the experience we had filming the movie, I never want it to end.
It’s been three excruciatingly back-to-back weeks of moving from one city to another but none of it feels like work.
I look forward to the days when we hang out, talking to mostly respectful journalists—some of course are completely inappropriate but I always smirk and smile as I shut them down, then thoroughly enjoy the orgasm that Jace gives me after the high of the confrontation.
I always repay the favor, of course. If not in the break room, it’s in his hotel room after I sneak over for the night.
Needless to say, it’s been three full weeks of pure bliss and if I wasn’t in love with him before, I sure as hell am now.
The two characters we’re playing for the media are playful, flirty, and people are still feral for the Jace and Lennox they discovered during filming but it’s nothing that will fly onto the court investigators radar.
That guy has been hanging around watching us like it’s his full time job—I suppose it is, but there’s nothing they have on Jace that could question his mental capacity or be a concern to sway the court’s decision out of his favor.
Jace and I are currently waiting in the break room for Sofia to come give us the second part of our schedule for the day. I’m sitting on the sofa, Jace is laying with his head on my lap and I love how comfortable he’s gotten, especially in the moments when we’re alone.
My phone buzzes in my pocket at the same time as Jace’s and we both shift to grab them.
Graham sent me a link with two simple question marks.
I furrow my brows, wondering what he’s questioning and when the link opens it’s an article from Chatterbox.
Lennox Rome fails to donate $500,000 promised to the Wings of Hope foster home.
“What the hell?” I whisper out as I read through the article.
Words like thief, scam artist, and fraud blare through the story as my breathing picks up and I begin to panic.
Jace urgently sits up, seeing the same link on his phone, looks over at me with wide eyes and I immediately call Andi.
“Lennox,” she answers, “I don’t know what’s going on. I wired those funds to them the very next day. I swear it.”
“You sure? You’re certain they went through?” I ask.
“Yes. Positive.”
I huff out an exasperated breath. “Okay, I’ll reach out to them and figure this out.”
Hours later we’re back at the hotel and I’m not one step closer to figuring out what the hell happened to the money.
“Do you think the Wings of Hope Foundation has anything to do with it?” Jace asks. “Maybe it was just an accounting problem.”
“I’d like to fucking hope so, but until we figure this out and they confirm I’ve held up my end of the deal I’m just going to look like a thief.”
“I can donate the money,” Jace says but I just give him a sideways glance.
“Your mom will never allow you to pull five hundred grand out of your account for my benefit.”
His shoulders slouch but he knows I’m right, still I hate the defeated expression he holds as he stares back at me. “Are you sure Andi didn’t—”
“No. No fucking way she took that money. She’s a friend. A friend I’ve had for a long fucking time. Don’t even insinuate that.”
“I didn’t mean she took it, maybe she made a mistake on the bank accounts or something.”
“I already checked that,” I say, sharply, annoyed.
Jace is sensitive and he shuts down during confrontation. I know this and yet I fucking snapped at him. Now it’s my turn to slouch as my head hangs forward.
I suck in a deep breath and walk toward him.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.” He gives me a tight smile. “I’m just stressed. And thank you. I appreciate your offer. But I can figure it out.”
But can I? I put all the money I made from my last movie in the condo I bought. Sure, I have some money in the bank because I don’t spend excessively but, I don't have anything near enough to cover that readily available.
I’m not a seasoned actor like Jace and that’s a highly misunderstood thing with actors. Unless you're a true household name, it takes years to make the kind of money the public thinks you make.
Sofia walks in from the other side of the room. She’s been here with us since we left the press junket, working hard on moving things around so I can focus on trying to fix this.
“I was able to move the schedule around a little and I canceled the photo shoot with Opal tonight, we moved it out by two weeks. I’ve scheduled Pierre’s plane to take us back home so we’ll need to leave in the next half hour.”
Fuck.
I hate going back home.
It means I go to my house and Jace goes to his and the entire night all I think about is sneaking over.
But at least I’ll get time to focus on figuring out what happened to the money.
“Thanks, Sofia,” I say without looking up. Flipping through emails and conversations saved in my phone.
We finish packing and head to the airport. The entire time we’re in the air I’m making calls, talking to as many people as I can to get to the bottom of this, but by the time we land I’m nowhere closer to figuring anything out and it’s fucking frustrating.
Before we exit Sofia summarizes the next couple of days.
“Your day is free tomorrow but that’s all I’m able to get you.
On Monday night we have the SoCal Spartans hockey game then on Wednesday night we have the Silver Screen press conference.
Pierre submitted Iron Horizon for consideration in all categories and he wants you both to be present.
Thursday is free again because Jace told me he wasn’t available that day. ”
I glance over at Jace and I can’t believe I lost track of how close his court hearing is. Sofia doesn't know what his day off request is for, so I just smile and mouth, “it’s going to be okay.”
He nods, puts out his fist to bump. I do the platonic gesture we’ve made a habit of in public—which I fucking hate.
He stands, gives me another somber smile as we grab our suitcases and walk down the airstairs of the plane. He gets in the car with Howard while I wait for Sofia so she can drive me home.
My phone rings with an unknown number and normally I would ignore it but with everything going on, I swipe and pick up the call.
“Hello,” I say without introducing myself.
“Hi Lennox, this is Cassie from Chatterbox. I wanted to see if you were interested in an exclusive story so you can tell your side of what happened.”
I’ve seen Chatterbox articles before, they're typically legitimate, but they also thrive on celebrity gossip. They also have incredibly sneaky ways to get your personal fucking contact information.
“No, thanks Cassie, I don’t have anything to say about it at this time.” I go to hang up but she stops me.
“We can make it lucrative,” she spits out then adds. “We have quite a large budget for exclusive stories.”