Rock Kiss 03 Rock Redemption(91)
A shaky smile. “Now that we’re here, I’m scared,” she whispered. “This is the biggest opportunity of my career.”
“No one else could do justice to this role.” He’d read the script on the flight back from the music festival, knew it was made for Kit. “Just remember that. And if all else fails, imagine Abigail Rutledge lording it over you at the premiere.”
Kit’s eyebrows drew together. “Not happening.”
“That’s my Katie,” Noah said and drew her into a hug. He wasn’t really a hugger, but Kit was, and truth be told, now that he’d started the hugging thing with her, he kinda liked it.
Taking a deep breath after he released her, she smiled and gave him two thumbs-up. “See you when they set me free. Probably be an hour at least.”
“You fine going in there alone?” She’d asked Butch and Casey to stay at the house today.
“Yes. Esra’s got a couple of stalkers of his own—harmless types who keep trying to get in, steal his stuff as souvenirs, rather than anyone who wants to hurt him, but it means his area is always secure.” She nodded toward the security guard on the door that was her destination. “Okay, better go.”
“Break a leg.” He watched her walk through the door.
Rather than waiting in the car, he went for a walk and managed to find a small coffee stand. Grabbing a plain black coffee, he made his way back toward the area where he’d parked and saw that the mock street to the left was now swarming with crew. He was leaning against a wall watching them set up a rain scene when he felt someone’s eyes boring holes into the side of his face.
Hackles up, he turned his head. Aw, shit. It wasn’t the stalker. It was the guy Kit had been dating before she and Noah got together: Terrence Gates. “Hey.” Noah straightened away from the wall. “I guess you want to punch my face.”
“For starters.” Arms folded, Terrence glared at him through the clear lenses of his metal-framed glasses. “You don’t deserve her.”
“No, I don’t.” That was simple fact. “But she’s mine, and I’m not about to give her up.”
Terrence’s already hard expression turned stony, his hazel eyes like chips of granite. “Yeah, well, I’ll be there to catch her when you let her down. Losers like you always do.”
Noah’s blood boiled, but he grabbed the fury in an iron fist, squeezed. Kit wouldn’t thank him for making a scene at her place of work. “You’ll be waiting one hell of a long time,” he said lightly, unable to stop himself from adding a cocky smile designed to piss Terrence off.
The other man stepped forward, arms unfolding as if he was going to take a swing. Noah wasn’t about to allow that to happen. “You want to take me on?” he said in a frigid tone. “Fine. Choose your time and place, but it sure as hell won’t be at the studio.” They were surrounded by people with phones, many of whom would love to make a few extra bucks by selling a shot to the tabloids. “Someone’s probably already gotten a snap of you approaching me.”
Terrence stared at Noah for a minute longer before turning and walking away. He’d unfisted his hand, but his shoulders remained bunched up. Though Noah tried to stay pissed off at the guy, it proved impossible—Terrence had a right to be angry. Yeah, the scriptwriter had apparently been a dick after the gala photos came out, but jealousy could do that to a man. All indications were that prior to the gala, Terrence had treated Kit with utmost care.
Noah, meanwhile…
He crushed his paper coffee cup and threw it in a nearby trash can, then walked back to the car. There was a small yellow flyer on the windshield. Probably a sneaky promotional attempt by a small-time movie company hoping to catch the eye of a studio bigwig. Everyone had to hustle.
Not against such self-starting behavior, he pulled the flyer out from under the wiper blade and turned it over. “Fuck.”
Printed on the yellow paper was a black-and-white photograph of him and Kit. It had been taken at the festival and had the look of a professional shot. If he had to guess, he’d say it had been printed off a news or magazine site. From what he could tell, it had originally been a shot of Kit sitting in the circle of his arms on the Zenith grounds, a smile on her face and his head bent toward her own.
On this copy, however, the stalker had scrubbed out most of Noah’s face with a black marker until he’d torn a hole in the paper. He’d then switched to red ink to write the word “WHORE” across Kit’s face.
About to crush the fucking thing into a ball, he remembered what Kit had done and dug around in his glove box, found a plastic bag he’d stuffed in there. He placed the flyer inside, then put the whole thing in the glove box. He didn’t want to tell Kit about it and ruin her hopefully amazing day, but he had to so she’d know the creep did in fact have access to the studio lot.