“Can you please remind me why you couldn’t come with me again?” I whispered to Lucy on the phone as I pressed my forehead to the wall in the corner of the white waiting room where I sat, waiting to be called in.
“Babe, calm down. If it wasn’t the little bitch’s class, you know I’d be there holding your hand every step of the way. The woman already has it out for me; I can’t give her more ammo. By the time you get home, I’ll have the tequila shots ready to celebrate. Focus on that. It’ll help.”
I closed my eyes. I was seconds away from throwing up. To calm down and focus on something else, I started to pace up and down in my little corner. Happy thoughts, I encouraged myself.
Happy, happy thoughts.
There was a blonde girl sitting on the U-shaped white couch. She’d been busy texting away and then taking useless selfies for the last ten minutes. She was all dolled up and had a so very obviously fake tan that was already going splotchy on her. She hadn’t let that thing—that phone that had mickey ears on it—down even for a second ever since she’d stepped in through the doors.
I mean, for god’s sake, how many freaking pictures can you take while sitting in the exact same spot, smiling the same fake smile? I’d stopped counting after thirty.
Looking at her making another pouty face as she squeezed her breasts together with her arms, I groaned.
“I think I’m gonna throw up,” I whispered into my phone.
“Oh shut up. Pull up your big girl panties and bra and wow them with your pretty little smile.”
“Since you are doing such a crappy job with the best friend gig, at least remind me why Char couldn’t come with me?”
Lucy let out a long breath. “Charlotte would be trembling right beside you if you took her with you. That’s why we didn’t tell her where you were going, remember?”
I did. She was right; if Charlotte were there, they would remember us as the shaking duo—not the best first impression you’d want to make with anyone, let alone the studio people who were interested in adapting your book into a fucking movie.
“I hate you.”
“I love you too, my anxious babe.”
“Lucy,” I started again in a miserable tone. “The meeting was at 2:30, it’s almost 3. Maybe I should leave? Maybe they made a mistake scheduling this. I mean, who am I kidding, right? Clearly, this isn’t happening. I don’t want to wait around to see someone jump out and scream, ‘Jokes on you, sucka!’ I just wanna come home. Can I come home, please?”
“No, you can’t come home. I forbid you to come home before you take that meeting and come back with good news and lotsa money. Now, close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Do it, Olive.”
“Fine. My eyes are closed shut. You can come and pry them open if you want to win the best friend of the year award.”
“I already own the shit out of that award, babe, so that’s a useless threat. Are your eyes closed?”
“Yes,” I huffed.
“Ok. Now, imagine you are a river.”
“Ahhh,” I groaned. Not this crap again. “What are you doing?”
“Calming you the hell down.”
“By telling me I’m a river?”
“Yes. Now, shut up and imagine that you’re a river. You are flowing; no one and nothing can stop you. You feel the sunlight on your…whatever and it makes you happy. You are a twinkle of laughter in the air. Then, you turn into a small waterfall, no, you turn into a majestic waterfall and then yo—”
“Ok, ok, Lucy.” I cut her short before she could sputter more bullshit. “I’m calm. You calmed me down. I’m a cold river that hears twinkles of laughter in the air and then turns into a majestic waterfall thing.”
“Great, good for you. Now, I saw Jameson’s hot ass walk by me so I gotta go and take a bite out of that.” I tried to cut in, but she shushed me. “Make me proud and I’ll meet you at the house. Byeeeeee!”
I opened my mouth, but she had already hung up on me. I lowered my phone and smiled to myself. She hadn’t come anywhere near calming me down, but she always had a way of making me smile.
I looked around the black and white office. Everything looked so expensive: the art on the walls, the furniture, the carpet, even the damn windows looked all expensive and shiny. Feeling naked, nervous, scared, excited—did I mention naked?—I took a step forward to go sit down next to the clicker happy chick, but when I saw her take a selfie stick out of her bag, I decided against it.
Pacing it was.
My gaze landed on the women that sat behind the huge, crescent-shaped reception desk. They all looked like models, not secretaries. Not a single hair on their head was out of place while mine was a crazy wavy mess. I glanced down at my clothes… Well, obviously I didn’t fit in with their pencil skirt, blouse, and high-heeled office attire, but I looked good. Just a few hours before, Lucy had forced me to wear a black bandeau skirt with a simple white shirt and a thin leather jacket. Of course, she had tried to force me to wear high heels, but I had gotten away with wearing my lucky combat boots. I liked to think I looked chic and relaxed in a fashionable sort of way. However, it wasn’t helping me not feel out of place at all.
I focused on the brunette that had told me that I needed to wait a few minutes because the execs were running late. That few minutes had turned into forty minutes exactly one minute ago.
Please, don’t judge me. Normally I’m cool with waiting. Hell, any other time, I would’ve loved to sit down next to the photo chick and take pictures of her taking pictures of herself and have a laugh about it with Lucy and Charlotte when I got back home. But, minutes had a really slow way of moving when you were about to lose your cool and throw up in front of a handful of strangers. I couldn’t be held responsible for all the daggers I was throwing at the model-secretaries.
Hell, shame on them. What kind of cruel people were they that they were playing with my emotions like this? As far as I was concerned, they deserved all the imaginary sharp little daggers.
Finally the brunette met my eyes, held her finger to her ear to listen to whoever was talking on the other the end of her bluetooth thingy, then nodded once.
“Miss Taylor,” she called to me.
I closed my eyes, took a deep, shaky breath, and walked over to her.
She was already up from her seat and walking toward me. We met in the middle.
“I’m a river. I can flow peacefully,” I muttered to myself.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, nothing. Sorry.” I gave her a shaky smile.
“I’ll walk you to Mr. Thomas’ office. They are ready for you.”
“Thank you,” I said, trying very, very hard to keep my hands at my sides instead of doing something crazy like slipping my hand into hers to steal some of her cool.
That wouldn’t be weird, right?
She gave me a sincere smile, the first one actually, and led the way down the long hallway.
We turned right, passing more expensive paintings, and some movie posters, then we took a left turn, this time passing a whole bunch of small offices. Each time we passed an open door, I was ready to jump out of my skin with nervousness. When we made yet another turn, I was starting to feel like a hamster trying to get to its treat. Then there was only a big door in front of us.
I came to a halt. Was I really doing this? Was this really happening?
Shit!
Who was I kidding, this was going to be a complete disaster!
I was no majestic waterfall. Not even close.
The brunette stood next to the door and her hand paused on the handle before she pulled it open. Clearly, she was waiting for me to come closer, but I was having none of that. I lifted my eyes up to hers.
Fight or flight?
I was seconds away from flight.
Damn it!
How many turns had we made? Could I even find my way out of that labyrinth of hell without her?
I took an involuntary step back to test the waters and the next thing I knew she was standing right next to me, asking if I was okay, her hand surprisingly strong at my back.
I made an awful, awful mewling sound in my throat and then started coughing. When I was done with all that nonsense, her face had softened up.
“Sorry,” I murmured.
“You are nervous about the meeting?”
“It can’t be that obvious,” I said, trying to chuckle.
“You have nothing to be nervous about. I loved your book,” she stated, shocking the hell out of me.
My eyes widened. “What? You did? You read my book? You actually know who I am? Did you say you liked the book?” I asked, holding my breath. Well, she obviously had good taste; it was a damn good book after all.
“Yes, I did, and of course I know who you are. And right after this meeting, if you accept their offer, a lot more people will know about your story. You hit it big.”
I didn’t want to hit it big or get bigger. I didn’t want to get anything. At that moment, all I wanted was to get in my bed and hide under my covers.
“But you have to go in now.” I could see she was waiting for me to move already. “Mr. Thomas has a packed schedule and he is already behind.” She checked her dainty little watch then looked back at me. “Go on now, there isn’t much time until his next appointment.”
I wasn’t budging.
Before I knew what was happening, she had opened the door and was ushering me inside.
Catching myself before I fell down on my face, I came to a halt and heard the distinct sound of a door closing. I looked over my shoulder.
She was gone.
The traitor!
I turned around and found myself face to face with three suit-wearing men.
For a second I didn’t know what to do, but then I mentally shook myself off and walked toward them.
I was already in for it, might as well look like someone who knew what they were doing.
The bald one—I was assuming he was Bobby Thomas—came forward and met me halfway, quickly offering me his hand.
“Hello, Miss Taylor, I’m Bobby.” He greeted me with an easy smile on his face. If his eyes hadn’t been fixated on my breasts, I would have said he looked friendly.
Annoyed, I angled my face and caught his attention. “Nice to meet you Mr. Thomas,” I said pointedly.
“We’ll have none of that. Call me Bobby. By the end of all this we’ll get to know each other much better.”
I forced a smile on my face and gently pulled my hand out of his grasp.
The other two didn’t get up from their seat, but had their eyes on me again, assessing me.
Walking by my side, Bobby led me to the long table in front of the floor to ceiling windows.
Managing to look around, I noticed that we were in some kind of conference room, which did nothing to calm my nerves down. I was beyond out of my depth here.
“Olive, this is—can I call you Olive?”
“Sure,” I mumbled, distracted by his hand resting on the small of my back.
“Great. Olive, I’d like to introduce you to the youngest member of our company, Keith Cannon.”
With those pale blue eyes and sharp cheekbones, Keith Cannon made a very impressive first impression.
“Nice to meet you Keith. I’m Olive Taylor.”
I smiled up at him and shook his warm hand. He had long, strong fingers. His teeth looked a little too white, a little too blinding to be natural, but it was hard to find natural in LA.
Next to him, a shorter, younger guy who was busily typing away on his laptop got up and briskly shook my hand as Bobby continued with the introductions.
“This is probably very exciting for you, and if we agree on our terms, he will be the screenwriter for the movie. It’s important that we reflect everything in your story onto the big screen as well as you managed to do in a few hundred pages so I wanted you to meet Harry Schuman and hear out his ideas. He is actually here for our next meeting, but we’re running a little late today, so since he is already here, we wanted him to sit in on this with you.”
I nodded and after the pleasantries took my seat across from them.
“We understand that at this time you have no book agent, Olive. Is that right?” Keith asked.
“Yes,” I answered. “This wasn’t something I was expecting to happen. At all. I’m an indie author, and as you must already know, Soul Ache is my first novel, which makes all this even more surreal.”
“We understand that it could be a little overwhelming, but you definitely impressed us with your story and we wanted to get your attention before anyone else could steal you.”
“Keith is right.” Bobby took over again. “We want you to look at this as the first step of our partnership. You don’t have to decide on anything today, but you should know that we are extremely eager to take on this project. You should also be aware that—excuse me.” He paused when his phone pinged with a new text message. Lifting his eyes, he absently waved his hand in a gesture that said ‘keep going’.
“I need to check on something, but please go on without me for a few minutes and I’ll be right back. We might even have a surprise for you, Olive. I think you’ll like it.”
I forced a smile on my lips and then Boobie Bobby was gone.
“Let’s get to it, shall we?” Keith asked and got a nod from both Harry and me. “As Bobby just mentioned, we are interested in optioning your book. But—” He lifted his hand as if to stop me from cutting in.
I’m all ears, Keith. No one is stopping you.
“We wanted to set this meeting so we could get to know each other better and see if we can impress you. After today, if you like what you’re hearing, I’d be happy to set up a lunch meeting so we can go over the details and present you with an option agreement for the exclusive rights.”
“Okay,” I nodded, because that made sense, right? He wasn’t saying anything scary, not at all.
Keith nodded back at me with a big smile that showcased his blinding pearly whites again and kept going. “So, essentially, Olive, we want to stay true to your story as much as we can. You captured so many hearts from so many different age groups, so we want to keep the heart of your story. The only difference is that we want to elevate it even more. Polish the main characters, maybe do a few small changes here and there, add a few new secondary characters, big names from Hollywood of course. We haven’t decided if we want to change the ending yet, but that’s just the details I’m sure you’re not interested in.” Linking his hands together on top of the table, he looked straight at me. “We want the movie to get everyone’s attention.”
Somewhere in the middle of his explanation of the studio’s intentions with my book, had he just said that I wouldn’t be interested in the changes? What on earth was he talking about?
“It all sounds great, but maybe we should take a few steps back,” I said. “I really feel like I’m out of my depth here. When you say a few small changes…?”
“I’ve read your book, Miss Taylor, and while everything was great for a book format, for a movie it won’t translate the same way. Making changes will be necessary at certain parts,” Harry said, speaking for the first time.
“We’ll walk you through everything.” Keith assured me, cutting in. “Usually it takes time—around a year or possibly even more than a year—to gather funding for the movie, to find the right director for the story, the right actors, the production company, and many other steps…but we want to use the buzz of your book to our advantage and keep the momentum going. Since you don’t have a book agent, I would highly suggest you to find one or have a lawyer go over the contract we’ll be presenting you at our next meeting so there won’t be any issues in the future.”
“Sure, sure. But what about those changes?” I asked, feeling more overwhelmed by the second.
Keith must have seen something on my face because his smile softened.
“I don’t think we asked you, would you like to have something to drink? Something to celebrate, maybe?”
“No, I’m good. Thank you.”
“Next time then. So do you have any questions for me?”
I glanced at Harry, but he was having none of it.
“I think I do. First of all, it’s very exciting to hear that you’re interested in my book, but to be honest, the changes you mentioned you want to make are…I don’t know how to put it into words actually. The thing is, I’ve spent years on this novel. While I do want to see my characters come alive on the big screen, I’m not sure if it’s worth it to go through this whole thing only for it to end up completely unrecognizable.” Every word in that book held a special place in my heart.
“You are not interested in selling the movie rights?”
“I didn’t say that. Actually, I did some research and I believe in some cases authors can act as a consultant. Would that be an option for me? Will I have any say in the making of the movie?”
“Olive, trust me, all authors feel the same way as you do at first, but when the project goes forward and the production starts, everything changes. The screenplay isn’t written yet, so we can’t really comment on any changes, but I’ll definitely make sure that you are included in the process.”
Thankfully, I was smart enough to know that having a say in the screenplay and being ‘included in the process’ were nowhere the same thing.
“Let’s talk about the casting,” he said while I was still trying to decide how to answer.
“Isn’t it a little early for that?” I asked, fidgeting in my seat.
“That’s one of the first things we focus on because securing the right actor for the role will change everything. We already have a few names we think would be a perfect fit for Isaac and Genevieve.” He checked the notes in front of him. “For Isaac, your main character, we have one specific actor we are trying to get in touch with, but for Genevieve we have a pool of names we are going through. Do you have any ideas, maybe suggestions for the casting?”
“Well, when I picture them in my mind, I don’t see them as other people.”
Lie, Olive. Lie through your teeth.
“I would love to hear the names you’re considering though,” I added.
Right at the end of my sentence, the door to our left opened and Bobby walked back into the room with another man right beside him. Keith’s gaze shifted toward them too, and before I knew what was happening, Jason walked in behind them, playing with the phone in his hand.
As in Jason fucking Thorn.
My mouth dropped open.
Shit!
My Jason.
Double, triple shit!
No, not my, my Jason.
Shit! Shit! Shit!
In shock and stuck in my seat, my mouth was still hanging wide open when Bobby chuckled, drawing my attention. I’m sure I was a sight to see.
“Olive, I want—” Bobby’s mouth was moving, but none of it was getting through to me.
Remember the peaceful waterfall Lucy tried to trick me into believing I was?
It was gone. All dried up. It was a disaster, really.
I was an avalanche—the mother of all avalanches to be precise.
Jumping up from my seat in a rush, I turned my back to them before Jason could notice me. Maybe I was acting crazy, but there weren’t that many Olives in the world. What if he remembered me? Remembered my name?
Damn it!
What if he saw my last name on the book cover that was sitting so prettily in the middle of the table?
Searching for a quick exit, I found none. Surely it would hurt a bit too much if I tried to break the window and jump out. Noticing the bar cart next to the window, I shakily made my way toward it.
Damn that Keith guy, why did he keep calling my name?
Reaching for the pitcher of water that had floating lemon and lime slices in it, I grabbed a glass and started pouring. Since my hands were shaking, some of it didn’t land in the glass, but who cared. As soon as it was half full, I chugged it down and poured another one.
Alcohol would’ve worked much better, but water was doing the trick.
Someone touched my arm, and I was ashamed to say I almost lost my grip on the pitcher, making an even bigger fool of myself.
“Olive, are you okay?”
Noticing it was just Keith, I slowly lowered the pitcher down and clung to my glass.
“Ah, sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” I tried to smile, but to him it probably looked more like a grimace.
Keith chuckled. “It’s not every day you see a movie star this close. I understand your excitement.”
He understood nothing. Why was he talking about Jason as if he was an animal in a zoo?
“Let’s take our seats again so we can introduce you two. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Actually I’d hate that, thank you very much.
There went my hopes that maybe Keith would be nice enough to smuggle me out of there.
“Sure,” I mumbled, using the glass of water as a shield in front of my face.
When I glanced at the table, I saw that Harry was gone and Bobby had taken his seat. Next to him sat the man who had walked in next to Bobby.
And then, there was Jason…
I tried not to look at him at all.
Dear God, please help me breathe.
Still using the glass as my shield as I kept sipping water, I sat down right across from the unknown guy—who had an amused expression on his face—and then I jumped a little and sloshed water on myself when Keith pulled out the chair next to mine and sat down.
Jesus…get a grip, Olive.
I was ready to jump out of my skin and run away to find Lucy so I could kill her. Surely this was all happening because she hadn’t come with me.
Keith started the introductions. “This is Jason’s agent, Tom Symond, and this is the author I mentioned to you, Tom, Olive T—”
“So very nice to meet you,” I said in a louder voice than Keith’s, interrupting him before he could say my last name.
Tom Symond chuckled, rose up, and reached for my hand.
Then I had to get up, too. Don’t you just hate being civil sometimes? As we were shaking hands, I slipped and glanced at Jason since he was being so quiet. When I noticed he was looking at me with a frown on his face, I quickly looked away, sat down, and reached for my beloved water glass.
“Jason Thorn is who we want for the role of Isaac. We think he’ll be perfect,” Keith started up again.
Damn, but the guy talked too much.
“We still have a lot of things to talk about, Keith, so let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” said Tom.
I nodded enthusiastically. What kind of hell was I in that they had brought in the ONE actor that I would be—
“Olive Taylor?”
Oh, god…
Death could be so peaceful. My own heaven. Didn’t that sound nice? Breathing was so overrated anyway.
“Olive?” Jason asked again in a surprised voice. There was complete silence in the room.
My stomach grumbled.
Anyone up there? Kill me.
Kill me now.
“Nice to meet you…Mr. Jason Thorn,” I said miserably when nobody else spoke for several seconds, silently shaving off years of my life.
Of all the things I could’ve said at that moment, of all the things I could’ve been doing instead of sitting there shaking like a leaf…
“Little one,” he said once he got up from his seat. There was affection in his voice. Definitely surprise, too, but mostly affection.
All the hairs on my body stood up.
Jason was already rounding the table coming toward me. No escape now.
Defeated, I let go of my water glass and pushed my chair back to face Jason.
Once he reached me, only two steps separated us. Two short steps after not seeing him for so many years.
“Olive,” he said, his lips cracking into a big grin. His eyes took in every inch of my body, causing me to blush.
Then he was in my space, his hands cradling my already flushed face. Involuntarily, I took a step back, my ass almost sitting on the table. He just came with me.
“Little one, look at you.” He laughed, triggering a smile on my face. “I can’t believe it, Olive. Fuck, look at you,” he repeated again.
The dimple? It was still as heartwarming to see as it had been the first day I’d met him.
“Hi,” I said, lifting my hand in a little wave.
He threw back his head and laughed.
Wow.
“Mr. Jason Thorn? That’s what you say to me?”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” I mumbled, my face heating up.
“Jason?” his agent asked from behind. “You know her?”
“Yeah, I know her,” Jason answered, his eyes still on me. “I was her favorite person in the whole wide world. She said so herself when she was eight years old.” He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “Or was it maybe seven?”
“Probably seven,” I muttered and closed my eyes. Yup, I had done that, because he had been exactly that for me.
“Oh, this is a nice surprise,” Bobby cut into our unexpected reunion. “We didn’t know you two knew each other. This will definitely be a plus for the project.”
Jason winked at me.
My heart fluttered.
Then his hands finally left my face alone, only to grab my hand and turn back to Tom.
“You can handle this?”
“Of course, but I think you should stay. We’ll keep it short,” Tom responded.
What?
“You can take care of everything.”
“Jason, wait a minute.”
Yes, Jason! Wait a minute!
His gaze landed on Bobby. “I’m in. You can go over everything with Tom.”
He was in? In what? IN WHAT? Certainly not my book?
“Are you done with your meeting with Olive?” he asked Keith next.
Hello, people! Am I not still standing here?
Keith’s gaze found my startled one before he answered Jason’s question. “I’ll send you the contract and personally call you to schedule a lunch date. We’ll go over the optioning agreement with you and make the necessary changes then.”
I was starting to feel dizzy. Had I said okay to their proposal already?
Absentmindedly, I nodded.
“Call me when the meeting is done, Tom,” Jason said as he pulled me behind him.
“I can’t believe this,” he muttered as soon as we were out the door and in the maze again.
Other than being shocked into silence, I just hoped he had been in the building enough times to know how to get out of the damn thing.
One hand engulfed in Jason’s, the other flailing behind me with my handbag, I tried to keep up with his big strides.
Is this really happening?
Just when I saw the light and thought we were finally out, I was pulled into an empty office and those dark chocolate eyes of his focused completely on me.
“Olive, you are beautiful,” he said after we took in each other in the thick silence. “You’ve grown up so much.”
Fuck.
“I did do that. You look very good, Jason. It’s nice to see you.”
Was that my voice that was trembling? He was still my first crush and my first heartbreak, but he was also Jason Thorn. The Jason Thorn who was only twenty-six and had two Oscar nominations under his belt, but I wasn’t going to think about what was under his belt because that would be bad. Really bad. He was one of the most versatile leading actor in the industry. Did I mention he was the best? He was more than just an actor. He was a star—a troubled one, I should say, but still a big, shiny star. Any other woman would be jumping on him if they ever found themselves locked in a room with him, which I believed they usually did.
I, however, was slowly stepping back toward freedom.
“That’s it? That’s all you’re gonna say to me?”
The last day I’d smiled up at him, he had managed to stomp on my heart with a simple text message, not even knowing he was stomping on it. The last time he had tugged my hair as a goodbye had been the last time I’d ever heard from him.
Sure, he had texted and called Dylan for the following few weeks, but after that I don’t think even Dylan heard from him again. One year later, we had watched his first movie as a family in the same living room where he had spent countless hours with us.
“I’m too shocked, I don’t know what to say really,” I blurted before I could say something stupid.
“I am too, but, god, look at you, little one.” Another slow perusal of my body. “I didn’t even recognize you when I first walked into the room. What are the odds?”
“Right?” I chuckled nervously. “What are the damn odds…”
“You have to tell me everything.”
“Everything? What do you mean?”
“Dylan? Is he here in LA. too? How about your mom and dad? Is everyone okay?”
“Yes. They are all fine. Mom and Dad still live in San Francisco. Same house, actually. Dylan is in D.C. He is a teacher, and married to the sweetest girl. Can you believe that?”
I kept walking backwards.
Small steps, Olive. You’re so close to freedom.
“Actually, I can.” His smile got even bigger as he sat on the edge of the office desk. “He wanted to be a teacher ever since middle school or something like that, and family was always important to him. No wonder he couldn’t wait to start his own.”
Finally reaching the door, I rested my back against it and waited for the perfect moment to escape.
“God, Olive, you can’t even imagine how much I missed you guys.”
“When you stopped calling, they missed you too.”
He arched an eyebrow. “So, you didn’t miss me?”
You hurt me, you big, sexy meanie, I wanted to say.
“Um, sure. Of course.”
His dimple disappeared and he straightened. When he started walking toward me, I had nowhere to run.
“What’s wrong with you, little Olive?” Reaching out, he tugged a strand of my hair, a gesture so old that it tugged at something in my heart. “I’m not your friend any more?”
He had remembered. The hair-tugging thing he had started doing every single time he saw me was like a warm ‘hello’ from him. I used to love it, thinking he couldn’t keep his hands off of me. I had been in love with him. You could call it a crush, but for me, it was pure love. He’d been my one and only wish on every single one of my birthdays.
“I would’ve thought you’d be happy to see me, too, Olive. If not happy, hell, maybe a little excited. My ego is taking a real beating.”
“Sorry,” I said, wincing a little. “It’s been a…a weird day, to say the least.”
“Still not admitting that she missed me,” he muttered almost to himself. His eyes seemed to be taking in every inch of my face, yet I chose to focus on a spot over his shoulder. His face wasn’t strange to me, as mine was to him. And I remembered that tender look all too well. Hell, it was just one of the things that made me swoon for him.
“You’re a writer,” he commented, as if the thought had just occurred to him.
“Looks like it.”
He hit me with that dimple again. “Tonight I’ll be reading your words.”
Panicking, I said, “Oh, you really don’t have to. It’s not even that good. It’s my first book and these people are plain crazy.” His smile got bigger and bigger. “I might even be getting punked right now. I’m being serious, you wouldn’t even like it, Jason. And what kind of a movie star are you that you have enough time to read a book?”
There was sex in that book! Pounding. Fucking. Sucking. Orgasming.
Oh, dear god. There were words like cock and pussy!
He chuckled. “Now you’ve intrigued me even more. I’ll have to read it as soon as I get home. Plus”—he lifted a finger when I opened my mouth to object again—“I just said I’m in to the studio execs who are interested in turning your book into a feature film. I think I should know what I’m signing up for, don’t you think?”
“Why did you even say that if you have no idea what it’s about?”
“My agent dragged me here, saying it was a good choice for me. I’m guessing he knows about your book and I trust him.”
“Fine. You go do that. I have to go.” Taking a step to my right, I opened the door. “It was so good to see you. Goodbye now.”
His eyes lit up. “There’s the little Olive I know.”
Before I could pull my hand away, he grabbed it as if he was getting ready to walk a kid across the road.
Why did my heart flutter so much every time he touched me even though it was obvious that he still saw me as his best friend’s little sister, the kiddo?
“What are you doing?” I asked as I was being pulled toward freedom.
“I’ll drop you off wherever you want to go.”
“You don’t even know where I live. What if it’s an hour away? I’m seriously starting to doubt your movie star status.”
Again, that chuckle. “It’ll be fun. I promise to entertain you the entire hour, little one.”
“It’s not an hour. Seriously, I can get there in like no time.”
“Then you won’t suffer too much in my presence.”
“Were you always this stubborn when you were little?” I asked, starting to get a little annoyed about being pulled around like a doll.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he said softly, looking over his shoulder, the annoying dimple winking at me. “You were always the little one, not me.”
