Flipping His Script: A Loathing to Love Romance

by Sabrina Stark

  Flynn was glowering now. "That fucker."

  Now I felt like crying all over again. But I didn't want to cry. And besides, there was no reason to, especially now. "It wasn't that bad," I said. "I mean, it could've been worse, right?" I tried to laugh. "We could've starved in the hedge-row."

  He shook his head. "What?"

  "It's just a line from a book, never mind. I'm just saying, some would say I had it lucky."

  "And some would say you didn't."

  I blinked long and hard. The look of pity in his eyes was almost impossible to bear, especially because back then, Flynn had it way worse than I ever did, even more so after running afoul of my stepdad.

  But I didn't dare bring up that subject again. It would only drudge up all those hard feelings and make Flynn recall how much he'd always hated me.

  Probably on some level, he still did.

  Pushing aside that familiar ache, I said, "All right, your turn."

  Chapter 61

  Flynn

  Thunderstruck, I stared at Anna from across the table. All this time, I'd had her pegged for something else. Now I wanted to kick myself for not taking a better look years ago. The thing with Gordon, her mom, and even her sister – it was seriously messed up.

  How in the hell had Anna turned out so nice?

  I hadn't turned out nice – as she'd seen firsthand. On impulse, I pushed back my chair and stood.

  "Wait," Anna said. "Where are you going?"

  "Hang on, I'm gonna grab a drink." I strode toward the cupboard and pulled out a fresh bottle of her favorite red. "Not for me. For you."

  She gave a weak laugh. "Oh, no."

  "What?"

  "If you're going to ply me with booze, this can't be good."

  As I opened the bottle, I said, "Eh, it's not that bad."

  Was it a lie? I didn't know. That depended on Anna's view of things.

  From her seat at the table, she asked, "But you're getting some for yourself, too, right?"

  I hadn't planned on it, but hey, I would if it made her feel more comfortable…"Sure, why not?"

  When I returned with a glass for each of us, she took a quick sip before returning the glass to the tabletop and giving me an expectant look.

  "Okay," I said, "the reason I hired you…" I paused. "Actually, it sucks."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Lemme back up," I said. "I've got this contract with the studio. And it involves publicity, some times more than others."

  "Like when a movie's just coming out?"

  "Right," I said. "And the thing with Felicity, we've been sharing the same agent, the same publicity person, too."

  Anna frowned. "You mean the person who writes your press releases?"

  "Yeah. But not anymore."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I fired her."

  "When?" Anna asked.

  "Today."

  She looked surprised. "Really? Why?"

  I gave it some thought. Would Anna feel better or worse if she knew? The truth was, I'd learned from Michelle that my P.R. person had been in town just yesterday, where she'd been hassling Anna outside her mom's apartment.

  No doubt, Felicity had put her up to it.

  And, for Anna's sake, I'd put a stop to it.

  But that wasn't important now, so all I said was, "Hey, I can write my own press releases."

  It was a joke. But from Anna's frown, she didn't see the humor – not that I could blame her.

  Looking to move on, I said, "Anyway, the thing is, when I signed this latest contract, I agreed to a certain amount of promo stuff – with Felicity."

  "You mean, like where you're appearing at the same events?"

  "Yeah. But together, as a couple."

  "Oh." She gave a rueful laugh. "Flynnicity."

  I hated that term. Still, I nodded. "Basically."

  "But I'm not following," Anna said. "What does that have to do with you hiring me?"

  "It's about that contract," I explained. "I'm not gonna sign anything without an out. So at the time, I try to get it written up so it only applies if Felicity and I are still together."

  "You said you tried? But they didn't agree?"

  "Right. And after going back and forth, we meet in the middle."

  "What's the middle?" she asked.

  "Remember that 'out' I mentioned? It only kicks in if either one of us is seeing someone else."

  She bit her lip. "Like me."

  "Yeah, it's you now. But that wasn't my original plan."

  "So what was your plan?" she asked.

  "The truth? I didn't have one. But I figured it wouldn’t be a big deal. If Felicity and I broke up, I'd move on, and so would she."

  "But she didn't?"

  I gave a low scoff. "What do you think?"

  "Me? I think she's crazy, well, for you anyway."

  "Maybe. But there's more to it. The second I hook up with someone else, Felicity's claws come out."

  "Oh, really?" Anna said with a wry smile. "I had no idea."

  "It's more than making a scene," I said. "She has a way of ruining people. She's good at it, too."

  Anna's smile faded. "How so?"

  I considered my history with Felicity Saint Cloud. She and I had been on-and-off-again for nearly four years. During the off-times, Felicity had been busier than I'd realized at the time.

  "Let's say I'm seeing another actress," I said, "Felicity can make it hard for them to get new roles. And by hard, I mean they might never work again."

  "So she sabotages them?"

  "Pretty much. And if I'm seeing someone lower on the totem pole, she can make their life a living hell."

  Anna gave me a perplexed look. "So what are you saying? No one was willing to date you?"

  I considered the countless offers I'd had, even while Felicity and I had been together. "That's not it," I said, "I'm just saying, I didn't want these other girls paying the price for my problem."

  Especially when I had no plans to stick around.

  Anna said, "So that's why you moved? To get away from Felicity?"

  "No." I gave Anna a serious look. "I moved because I'm done."

  "Done how?"

  "Done with the movies."

  "You mean because the trilogy's ending?"

  "No. Because I'm done, period."

  She sat back in obvious surprise. "So you're giving up acting? Seriously?"

  "That's the plan."

  "But why?"

  "Because I fuckin' hate it."

  "You do?"

  She had no idea. It wasn't just the pretending that I hated. That I could deal with. Hell, even doing my own stunts, that was a blast, even if I did get banged up once in a while.

  But everything else – the fake friends, the easy pussy, and shit, the drugs, they were everywhere.

  I'd never taken any and didn't plan on it. My own mom had died of an overdose when I was still in diapers. And as far as my dad, I'd never met the guy.

  Now in the quiet kitchen, I said, "No joke. And the truth is, I don't need the money." I shrugged. "Hell, with as much as I've made, my kids' kids wouldn’t need the money."

  And yeah, I did want kids. But I wanted to raise them in the way I should've been raised, the way Anna should've been raised too – in a stable house away from the fuckery of the wider world.

  Anna said, "So you're retiring?"

  "If you wanna call it that."

  But I didn't plan on sitting on my ass, smoking a pipe on the front porch. I had some ideas, but none I'd be starting now while the movie thing was still a factor.

  Across to me, Anna blew out a long, shaky breath. "Wow." She shook her head. "Does anyone know?"

  "Aside from you? Yeah, a few people."

  "What do they think?"

  "Half of them think I'm smart to get out now. And the other half – well, they can go fuck themselves."

  Her eyes filled with amusement. "Do they know that?"

  "Felicity does. And she's not happy. And neither is an
yone else who gets a cut."

  "A cut of what?"

  "Me."

  "So let me get this straight," she said. "You hired me to get out of the contract?"

  "Not the contract," I clarified. "Just that one clause."

  "But why me?" And then, she froze. "Oh."

  I studied her face. "What?"

  "You didn't want anything bad to happen to those other girls, but with me—"

  "It's not like that."

  But already, she was shaking her head. "But it was. Wasn't it?"

  I hated cowards, and I didn't want to become one now. I had to say it. "Yeah."

  She reached for her wine glass and took a long, steady drink. When she finished, she said with mock cheer, "Well, I can't say I'm surprised."

  "But it's not like that," I repeated. "I mean, not anymore."

  "Yeah, well…" She gave a hard swallow. "Good thing I was desperate for the money, huh?"

  "Fuck the money."

  Her mouth tightened. "That's easy for you to say."

  This wasn't the first time she'd told me that. But I wanted it to be the last. "I'm just saying, it's not what I’m thinking of. And I don't want you to think about it either."

  "What does that mean?"

  "If you want," I said, "I'll pay you the rest now, no strings. The bonus, too."

  As I said it, she looked down, studying her glass with unnatural interest. She wasn't jumping for joy. But then again, I hadn't expected her to.

  When she looked up, her eyes were filled with tears, and not the happy kind. "Can I ask you something? Why'd you make me move in with you? Was that part of the clause, too? That you had to be living with someone?"

  Shit.

  I really didn't want to say. But she deserved the truth. In a quiet voice, I said, "No."

  "So you had a different reason. Lemme guess. Revenge?"

  "Not just revenge," I said. "I wanted to keep an eye on you."

  "Why?" She made a scoffing sound. "To make sure I didn't welch on our deal? Or to make sure I didn't mess up?" Her voice cracked. "Or, just to make me miserable?"

  The truth was, it was all of those things. But hell if I wanted to say it.

  When I said nothing in reply, she gave a bitter laugh. "A lot of good that did, huh?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "I messed up all the time. I mean, let's be honest here. I'm not very good at this, am I?"

  On this, she was right. She wasn't good at faking things or pretending to be something she wasn't.

  I held her gaze, willing her to understand. "No. You're not. But that's not such a bad thing."

  "Oh, please," she said. "You should've hired someone like Mackenzie."

  "You're wrong. I didn't want her. And I don't want her now."

  "That's real bummer," she said in a voice of false cheer. "She would've given you a heck of a deal."

  "Forget Mackenzie," I said. "You're the one I want, not her."

  In reply, Anna merely shook her head.

  "Anna—" I made a move to reach for her hand. She yanked it away so fast, I never had the chance.

  Still, I finished what I'd been meaning to say. "Listen, if I could go back in time, I wouldn't've hired you. I wouldn’t've hired anyone. It was so fucking stupid, I don't know what to say."

  She pushed back her chair and stood. "Well, thanks for telling me."

  I didn't want her to go. "Anna—"

  Her eyes flashed with anger. "What?"

  "Where are you going?"

  "To bed." She blinked long and hard. "Don't worry. I'll try not to wake you." And then, she turned and walked away.

  I didn't follow after her, although fuck knows I wanted to.

  But I had to face facts. I'd done enough already.

  Chapter 62

  Anna

  Talk about humiliating. Now I knew exactly what I was to him – disposable, like a paper napkin or used condom.

  As I strode up the stairs, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. A condom? What a joke.

  I guess that was something to be thankful for, that he wasn't truly attracted to me. He'd made that perfectly clear from the beginning.

  Humiliating or not, this was definitely for the best, because if I were being totally honest, I was attracted to him more than enough for both of us.

  Yeah, just like every other girl on the planet.

  But so what? That was his job, right? To look pretty for the cameras.

  Okay, maybe I wasn't being completely fair, but I didn't feel like being fair.

  And now, my eyes were watering again – and for no good reason. Okay, so he'd used me. He'd chosen me for this gig because he didn't care what happened to me.

  None of this was a surprise.

  So, why did it hurt?

  It shouldn't hurt. I was, after all, being paid for the privilege.

  When I reached the doorway to my bedroom, I stopped short and frowned at the damage from last night.

  Downstairs, it had been all too easy to forget that he'd busted into my bedroom– and for my sake, not his. The sudden recollection was a cold splash to my growing outrage.

  Maybe he did care at least a little. Or maybe he'd just grown a conscience. I didn't know, and I was too overwhelmed to think.

  With a sigh, I sidled into the room and took good, long look at the destruction. The door was nearly shattered, and the adjacent wall had a doorknob-sized dent in the drywall.

  Wasn't a doorstopper supposed to prevent that sort of thing? I looked down to the floor. Yup, there was the doorstopper, all right. The way it looked, it had been hit with enough force to knock it off the wall.

  God, what a nightmare.

  And speaking of nightmares, why was I having that stupid dream again? Downstairs, I hadn't been lying. Gordon had never touched me, but he had creeped me out, bigtime.

  Desperate for some semblance of privacy, I gave the bedroom door a tentative pull, only to discover that it had come mostly unhinged.

  Just like me.

  And yet, to my surprise, when I crawled into bed, I fell asleep almost immediately. If I dreamed of anything, I didn't recall. But I did wake up early the next morning to the smell of something eerily familiar.

  Confused, I threw on some clothes and wandered downstairs to the kitchen. I stopped short at the sight of Flynn standing at the center island making – yup, sure enough – waffles.

  My gaze drifted from Flynn to the waffles and back again. I asked, "What are you doing?"

  He looked up. "What does it look like?"

  "I'm not sure," I admitted. "Revenge?"

  "Does it smell like revenge?"

  "No." I gave the waffles a wary glance. "But it could be some sort of secret revenge, like something that hits later on when I least expect it."

  He eyed me with obvious amusement. "Now that's a scary thought."

  I wasn't sure what he meant, and I was just about to ask him when a sudden recollection made me pause. "So, where was it?"

  "The waffle maker?" He shrugged. "That's for me to know."

  "And for me to find out?"

  He made a show of grimacing. "Not if I can help it."

  I tried not to laugh. "Hey, that's not fair."

  "Yeah, well, fair's for pussies." He flicked his head toward the nearby cupboard. "Grab a couple of plates, will ya?"

  I didn't move. "I'm not sure I should."

  "Why?" He grinned. "You chicken?"

  "Oh, please," I said. "You think I'm gonna fall for my own trick?"

  "Sure, why not?"

  I took a tentative step closer. Next to the waffle maker was a serving platter loaded up with fresh waffles. I gave them a long, careful look, but saw no discoloration or mysterious blobs.

  I asked, "What's the catch?"

  "All right, you want the truth?"

  I nodded.

  He smiled. "I'm bribing you."

  The smile made me just a little bit nervous. Or maybe I was simply unsettled by the flutter it caused in my stomach. "Technically, you
're already bribing me."

  "A bribe and payment aren't the same thing."

  I wasn't so sure. "So you're bribing me with breakfast?"

  "Not just breakfast," he said. "Lunch, too. I'm thinking someplace downtown."

  Now, I had to laugh. "Well, that changes everything."

  Ignoring my sarcasm, he said, "Here's the deal. Last night, I got ahead of myself."

  "What do you mean?"

  "The stuff I told you, it wasn't the whole story."

  "So what is?" I asked.

  "Ask me in a week."

  I was intrigued in spite of myself. "Why a week?"

  He shrugged. "Why not?"

  "But that's no kind of answer."

  "I'm not offering you answers," he said with a secret smile. "I'm offering you waffles." He pointed to the serving platter. "See?"

  "But that doesn't make any sense at all."

  "Gimme a week," he said. "And it will. I promise."

  Chapter 63

  Anna

  It was only five days into Flynn's requested week, and I was already in serious danger of falling for real.

  And why?

  It was because they'd been five of the happiest days of my life. For whatever reason, Flynn had stepped up his game, making our fake relationship seem achingly real.

  We'd gone out nearly every day, sometimes multiple times a day. We browsed the little shops downtown. We went out to lunch or dinner. We even went out for coffee, even if Flynn seldom drank it.

  But he was good company regardless of where we were or what we were doing.

  On one of these outings, he'd even insisted on buying me a pair of hiking boots in case I wanted to join him on the trails. But the funny thing was, lately he hadn't been hiking at all.

  We'd been far too busy.

  After spending each day in public, we'd spend each night hanging out at his house, usually watching movies in his media room. Some of these movies hadn't even come out yet, but through some Hollywood connection, Flynn had gotten early digital copies.

  It was like living a dream, except for one huge distraction. Fake or not, the romance wasn't so easy for me turn off like a switch when the day's public performance was done.

  During those public outings, he only took things as far as I was willing, meaning as far as I initiated. But the truth was, I'd been initiating far more contact than I should've.