Breaking Hollywood(20)

"The pool for the goat or you?"

"Both of us." I grin.

He shifts on his crutches, a slight grimace appearing on his face.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, standing just gets uncomfortable."

I look around, but there's nowhere to sit, except the grass. "What do you want to do?"

"There's a fold-up chair and blanket in the trunk of my car. Would you  mind grabbing them? Then, we can sit up here, and you can run lines with  me."

I jog over to the car, Gucci trotting alongside me, and I get the chair and blanket out of the trunk.

I grab my bag from the backseat, as I've got a couple of bottles of  water and Gucci's water bottle, built-in tray, and some cut-up  vegetables in a sandwich bag ready for her.

I head back over to Gabe and set the chair up. He sits in it, putting  his crutches on the ground. I hook Gucci's lead to the chair and extend  it, so she's got plenty of space to roam around. Then, I lay the blanket  out in front of Gabe and sit down on it, tucking my legs under me.

He removes the bag and pulls out what I think are a couple of scripts.

He hands one to me.

Yep, it's a script.

On the front, it reads, Insanity Calling by Jonah Pickle and Catarina Wiseman, Second Draft.

"Insanity Calling. That's a cool name for a movie," I muse.

"Yeah. It's a really great script," he tells me.

"When do you start filming?"

"Couple of months' time."

"So, your foot will be healed in time. That's good news. Where will you be filming?"

"Mostly in the studio. Some on location in New York."         

     



 

"The asshole studio that fired me?" I playfully narrow my eyes.

"Yep. That asshole studio."

He's quiet a moment, and then he says, "I can talk to someone, get you your job back. Or get you a job on this movie."

"No, it's fine. But thank you. I appreciate the offer." I open to the  first page of the script. "So, who's in this movie with you?"

"Desmond Hooper."

"Ooh, I love him."

"Right?" He grins.

Desmond Hooper is old-school Hollywood. He's done so many films, ranging  from Westerns to comedies to love stories. He's a veteran in the movie  business and a twice Oscar winner.

"Who else is in it? Who's playing your love interest?" There's always a love interest.

"She's not been cast yet."

That's not unusual for a studio to not have the full cast, even at this point.

"They did have Harriett Jenkins at one point, but … " He trails off,  scratching his chin. He still hasn't shaved, and he's getting the  definite signs of a beard growing.

"But what?"

"Nothing."

"You can't say that to someone like me!" I sit up on my haunches.  "That's like dangling a cigarette in front of you and not letting you  smoke it."

"Talking of cigarette." He pulls a pack out of his shorts pocket and lights one up.

I watch him suck on the cigarette and blow the smoke out into the air.

"Gabe."

"Ava."

Containing my shiver, I press my hands to my hips and tip my head to the side.

"Fine." He sighs. "We fucked a few times, and she got a little … hung up on me."

I ignore the stab of jealousy I feel at knowing he had sex with Harriett  Jenkins-the beautiful once-child star, now full-on bona fide movie  star.

"She went Fatal Attraction on you?"

"She didn't boil any bunnies on my stove, but it did get a little weird  for a time. She was turning up at my apartment at all hours of the  night. Went bitch crazy on some chick I was talking to in a club.  Scratched my car. When I woke up in the middle of the night to find her  in my bed, I had it."

My mouth pops open. "She was in your bed? How did she get in your apartment? The only way I know up there is via the elevator."

"There's a service elevator in the back-that other door in the kitchen."

"Oh. I thought that was just a cupboard."

"No." He laughs.

"So, how did she get in?"

"She bribed one of the building staff and got the elevator key from  them. I was so close to calling the cops, but I didn't want the press  attention. So, I kicked her ass out and called my lawyer. He threatened  her people with a restraining order, knowing they wouldn't want that to  get out in the press. It would be killer for her golden-girl image. So,  they checked her into rehab for ‘exhaustion.'" He air-quotes. "I haven't  heard from her since. That was three years ago.

"But no way am I working with her. So, I told the studio that I didn't  want to work with her for personal reasons, and I was happy to pull out.  But they wanted me for the role, so she was taken out of the picture."

"Oh, well, I'm glad for you. And any future bunnies that might have been boiled in your name."

"It goes without saying, this is just between you and me."

I make the locking motion over my lips and pretend to throw away the key.

"You know, I usually have my staff sign an NDA," he says in a thoughtful tone.

"I can sign one if you'd like."

His eyes soften on me. "No. You're good. I trust you."

That warms me all over.

I glance over at my Gucci, who's walking around, sniffing the grass.

"You don't think Harriett will go weird if she finds out I'm staying with you?"

"Gucci's safe, Speedy. She won't come back. It's been a long time now. She's probably off stalking some other poor bastard."

"Sucks that you had to go through that."

He shrugs. "It was more annoying than anything."

"If I had someone stalk me like that, I'd shit my pants."

"Literally?"

"Yeah. And I'd probably piss myself, too."

He laughs.

I can't believe I'm talking about shit and piss with Gabe.

I'm so weird.

"So, anyway"-I look down at the script-"you want to get started on this?"

"Sure." He pulls his glasses from his bag and puts them on.

My girl parts shimmy in response. I have to squeeze my thighs together to relieve the ache.         

     



 

"So, which part are we working on?"

"Go to page five. You read the part of Estelle. I'm Henry."

"Is Estelle Henry's love interest in the movie?"

His eyes connect with mine. The darkening of them makes my mouth dry and my stomach quiver.

"Yeah. She's the one he wants to fuck. Badly."

For a moment, I wonder if he's actually talking about him and me.

"Do they … have sex? In the movie?" I can't believe I actually asked that.

"Yes."

Our eyes are still locked. I run my tongue over my dry lips.

Gabe's eyes follow the movement.

I swallow. "Is there … dialogue? In the sex scene."

"Yeah. Henry's a talker during sex. A really dirty talker."

Holy crap.

"And … will you need me to help you run those lines?"

His eyes come up to mine. It feels like an age before he speaks, but when he does, it's worth the wait. "Definitely."

Sweet mother of Jesus, my panties are soaked.

I drag my eyes from his, feeling like I can't breathe. My body is on  fire, and the only thing it wants … needs to soothe itself is him.

God, I want him. I've never wanted a man more.

"Ava … "

Jesus, when he says my name, I want to die.

"Gucci's off her lead."

"What?" I snap to attention to see she's wandered off over to the other side of the field. "Shit!"

I jump to my feet and start running over to her. When I call her name,  her head comes up from the flowers she was sniffing. She starts jumping  around with excitement.

"Come here, baby girl."

I crouch down, and she comes trotting over into my arms. Thank God she didn't run away from me.

Always to me. Bless her heart.

I walk back over to Gabe.

"Okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, I'm not sure how she got free." I put her down and refit the lead to the harness, making sure it's secure.

As I stand, Gabe's hand touches mine and lingers there. "Ava."

I look down at him, and words fail me. He's so beautiful, and the way he's looking at me reignites my body back to life.

"Look, I-"

Something catches my eye, and I look up. "Gabe," I cut him off.

Not that I want to cut him off because I really want to hear what he was  going to say, but there's a guy waving at me from the other side of the  field, near Gabe's car.

"There's a guy near your car, and he's waving at me."

After talking about stalkers, I'm feeling a little creeped out by a  random stranger waving at us. What if he's recognized Gabe? At this  distance though, that wouldn't be possible, would it?

Gabe turns his head to look. "Oh, it's the pizza delivery guy."

I look down at him, surprised. "Pizza delivery guy? You ordered pizza? When?"

"When you went to the car to get the blanket and chair." He digs in the  pocket of his shorts and pulls out a fifty-dollar bill. "I ordered a  couple. One plain and a meat feast. You mind going over to pay him?" He  holds out the bill.

"Uh, yeah, sure." I take the money and walk over to the delivery guy.