Flipping His Script: A Loathing to Love Romance

by Sabrina Stark

  That wasn't me. And I didn't want it to be me either. I flopped over and groaned into my pillow.

  I'd need to apologize – and not because he was my employer, but rather because it was the decent thing to do.

  And while I was at it, I decided, I'd find a way to better explain why I'd been so upset in the first place.

  That settled, I realized something else.

  I was absolutely starving.

  I tried to think. How long had it been since I'd eaten? I couldn't say for sure, but a rumble in my stomach informed me that it had surely been a while.

  I sat up in the bed and peered through the darkness. It was the middle of the night, and I knew I was a mess. On the upside, this was the perfect time to stage a quick kitchen raid and skulk back into the bedroom without being seen – by Flynn or his surprise guest.

  Unfortunately, my plan didn't work out quite the way I'd intended.

  Chapter 69

  Anna

  I was halfway to the fridge when I spotted him, sitting in near-darkness at the kitchen table.

  I stifled a gasp. It wasn't even Flynn. It was Jack Ward.

  I couldn’t make out his expression, but his voice was filled with amusement as he said, "Busted."

  I knew it was a joke, but it rattled me just the same. Still, I tried to laugh. "Uh, yeah. I guess you caught me, huh?"

  "I wasn't talking about you," he said. "I was talking about me."

  "Oh." Other than that, I didn't know what to say. I squinted through the shadows to ask, "So, what are you doing?"

  "Same as you."

  I hesitated. "Sneaking pie?"

  "So that's what you're doing?"

  "Actually," I admitted, "I'm not sure there is pie." I perked up. "But there could be." Ever since my random pie comment the other night, there did seem to be more baked goods in the fridge.

  "An optimist," Jack said. "I like it."

  "So if you're not sneaking pie," I said, "what are you doing?"

  "Plotting."

  All things considered, this wasn't a surprise. He'd written three books in a row that had shattered countless sales records worldwide. Between those books and the related movie and merchandizing rights, which rumor had it, were considerable, he was probably the richest person I'd ever met.

  Did that include Flynn?

  Maybe.

  Not that it mattered.

  "But wait a minute," I said. "You said that we were doing the same thing, but I'm not plotting anything."

  "Sure you were," he said. "You were plotting how to get the pie – without being seen."

  Okay, on this he had a point. And now that I'd been caught, I made a move toward the nearby light switch, only to stop in mid-motion when he said, "Don't."

  "Don't what?"

  "Don't turn on the light."

  I hesitated. "Why not?"

  "Because it's better this way."

  I tensed. "Better how?"

  "Don't worry," he said with a laugh. "I'm not interested in getting my ass kicked."

  "Sorry, what?"

  "It's not what you think," he said. "Something's going on outside, and I don't want to draw any attention."

  "Outside? But it's the middle of the night."

  "Yeah, you're telling me."

  I glanced toward the front of the house. "So what's going on?"

  "I'll tell you, but on one condition."

  "What's that?"

  "You can't go out there."

  I gave a nervous laugh. "Why would I?"

  "Because Flynn's got company, and you're not gonna like it."

  Chapter 70

  Flynn

  I gave my unwanted visitor a long, irritated look. "What do you want?"

  Felicity drew back with a frown. "God, do you have to be so rude?"

  The way I saw it, rude was showing up near midnight uninvited and unwelcome, as I'd made clear the last time she'd pulled such a stunt. "Yeah. I do. So lemme ask again, what do you want?"

  She was standing beside the limo that had carried her here. The limo's lights were off, but the engine was still running.

  Good.

  All the better to carry her ass away.

  Felicity was wearing a skin-tight silver shirt, cropped skinny jeans, and high silver heels that looked ridiculous on the dirty gravel road.

  When she saw me eyeing her shoes, she said, "You really do need to get this thing paved."

  If she meant the road, I didn't want it paved. I wanted it exactly like it was to discourage traffic and visitors, along with all the other crap I'd left behind.

  I gave her a look. "And you need to tell me why you're here. Or even better, get in the car and go."

  "It's not a car," she said. "It's a limo."

  "So I noticed."

  She sighed. "Has it ever occurred to you that I'm here to do you a favor?"

  If so, that would be a first. I crossed my arms and waited.

  Felicity glanced toward the house. "So, aren't you gonna open the gate?"

  To the driveway? No. I wasn't.

  As for myself, I'd used the narrow gate out back and circled around the brick wall to meet Felicity just outside the main gate.

  I wouldn't be out here at all if not for the fact that I wanted to head this thing off at the pass.

  I told Felicity, "I don't need any favors."

  "That's what you think." She threw back her shoulders and announced, "I saw that video."

  Over the last several weeks, there'd been plenty of videos starring me and Anna. But it wasn't hard to figure out which one Felicity meant.

  I gave a tight shrug. "So?"

  "So she yelled at you."

  Yeah. She had. I hadn't liked it. But that wasn't Anna. And hey, maybe I had it coming.

  Over the last few months, I'd shoveled loads of shit Anna's way. Even when she hadn't liked it, she'd shown a lot more class than I ever had.

  But that was between me and Anna. Plus, when it came to yelling, Felicity was in no position to judge.

  I gave another shrug. "So?"

  With a sudden huff, she stomped her foot, sending gravel scattering. "Will you please stop saying that?"

  "Hey, you came to my house, not the other way around."

  "But I'm not at your house," she said. "I'm outside your house. And you won't even let me in!"

  I waited a beat. But then I had to say it. "So?"

  She glared at me. "Well, this is just great. I come all this way to do you a favor, and you treat it like one big joke."

  She was wrong. This was no joke. I'd been in the kitchen talking with Jack when a beep on the control panel had alerted me that someone at the gate wanted in.

  A short conversation over the intercom – with the driver, not Felicity – had let me know exactly who that person was. When I'd told the driver to forget it, he'd relayed the information back to his passenger.

  Ten seconds later, it was her voice on the intercom, yelling, "Let me in or you'll be sorry!"

  I was already sorry. But that didn't mean I was letting her in. Through the gaps in the iron gate, I gave the house a quick glance. It was still dark.

  Good.

  Before coming out here, I'd asked Jack to watch for Anna and, more to the point, to keep her inside if she woke up.

  I'd also cut the lights to make sure that no one got a free show out of the deal. Knowing Felicity, she wasn't above dragging a boat-load of reporters in her wake.

  She was good at that sort of thing, making sure the paparazzi knew exactly when and where something would be happening, as long as it made Felicity look good, that is.

  When I made no reply, she demanded, "Well?"

  "Well what?"

  She pointed to the gate. "Aren't you gonna let me in?"

  "You already asked, and you got your answer."

  "But I have something to tell you."

  "So say it and go."

  I just prayed it would be quick. The longer Felicity stuck around, the higher the odds were of Anna waking u
p to find one more thing to stress about.

  She didn't need the grief, and neither did I.

  "Oh, fine," Felicity said. "It's about your little townie. I know something you don't."

  "I doubt it."

  "Just listen," she said. "That little townie of yours. She's a total freak. And I've got proof."

  Chapter 71

  Flynn

  When it came to Anna, Felicity didn't know dick.

  I crossed my arms. "Is that so?"

  She gave an enthusiastic nod. "Oh yeah. Back in high school? Get this. She actually wanted to be locked up, like in prison."

  I gave Felicity a hard look. "Are you done?"

  "Not hardly," she said. "Just listen…There was this guy named John who she must've had a real thing for..."

  I froze. What?

  Back in the day, John had been my name. Technically, it still was if I went the middle-name route. But Felicity knew this. Or at least, she should've known if she'd been paying any attention.

  Then again, John was a common name, and paying attention to anything beyond herself had never been Felicity's strong suit.

  Now she was saying something about Anna having a thing for losers and criminals – as if the people Felicity dealt with were any better.

  I cut her off in mid-sentence. "So this John guy, you get a last name?"

  She frowned. "No. It was redacted. You know, crossed out?"

  "I know what redacted means."

  "Plus, most of the file was sealed," she said. "Apparently, he was a minor."

  I frowned. If she was talking about me, Anna would've been a minor, too. I didn't like the idea of anyone digging into her business – or mine for that matter. I said, "And you 'know' all of this, how?"

  She glanced away. "I hired someone."

  By someone, she obviously meant a private investigator. Whoever it was, they couldn’t've been too good if they were missing key pieces of the story. But hey, that was Felicity's problem, not mine.

  I made a show of looking disinterested even as she launched into a long rambling explanation of how "concerned" she was that I might be making, in her words, a "huge mistake."

  When it came to Anna, I'd made mistakes all right, but not in the way Felicity meant.

  After laying the groundwork for her snooping, she asked, "And do you want to know the rest of what they found out?"

  Knowing Felicity, she'd tell me regardless. So I gave another shrug and let her make of that what she would.

  Sure enough, she said, "So this John guy, apparently, he was all kinds of trouble."

  If I weren't so pissed off, I might've laughed. Yeah, "he" was. He'd been in and out of foster homes for most of his misspent youth, during which he'd gained a reputation for being more trouble than he was worth.

  And by the time he finally pulled his head out of his ass and started to "apply himself" in school, he'd been busted for something he didn't do, which had led him to do other things, especially when it came to Anna Burke and her family.

  To Felicity, all I said was, "He sounds like an asshole to me."

  She smiled. "Oh, he was. For sure."

  No kidding.

  When I said nothing else, she continued. "But that's just the background. The real thing I wanted to tell you is this." She leaned forward. "That little townie of yours? She asked to switch places with him."

  I shook my head. "No."

  "Oh yeah," Felicity said. "The way it sounded, she actually confessed to his crimes in hopes of getting him out." Felicity gave a snort of contempt. "Is that pathetic or what?"

  It was something.

  But pathetic?

  No.

  Not if it was true.

  Holy fuck.

  Was it?

  I looked toward the house. "It's something."

  Felicity was still talking. "So either she had this thing for a total criminal. Or she wanted to be locked up." Felicity giggled. "Maybe she wanted a prison gang-bang or something."

  My gaze snapped in her direction. "What?"

  At something in my expression, Felicity took a step backward. "Well, I just mean…" She cleared her throat. "What kind of girl does that?"

  A girl like Anna, that's who.

  When I said nothing in reply, Felicity said, "I brought one of the letters if you want to see it."

  I did

  And I didn't.

  Again, I glanced toward the house. What had Anna done?

  From a few feet away, the limo's engine suddenly fell silent. As we turned to look, the driver's side door opened, and the driver got out.

  I recognized him right away. He was the same guy who'd made the last attempt to drop off Felicity and her luggage, back on the day that Anna had come to my house for the very first time.

  A lot had changed since that day. I looked to Felicity. And a lot had stayed the same.

  She glared at the driver. "What are you doing?"

  The guy flinched. "I'm uh, wondering if you want me to go."

  "What?" she snapped.

  "Well, uh, you said I'd be dropping you off. So I'm just wondering if I should keep waiting or—"

  "You know what you can do?" she said. "Take a hike."

  He glanced toward the limo. "So, you mean leave, right?"

  "No! I mean take a hike, literally." With a long-suffering sigh, she made little walking motions with her fingers. "Go take a walk or something. I'll call you when I need you."

  "But—"

  "Oh for fuck's sake," she said. "What do I have to do to get some privacy around here?"

  I looked to the driver and said, "She'll be leaving in a minute. So if you want to wait in the car—"

  Felicity whirled to face me. "It's not a car! It's a limo!"

  I didn't see the big deal. "Same difference."

  "Not to me."

  Of all the things to be arguing about – what a waste. I looked back toward the driver and felt my eyebrows furrow.

  The guy was gone.

  I squinted through the shadows and spotted him hightailing it into the woods on the opposite side of the road. What the fuck?

  Turns out, he'd taken the whole hiking suggestion literally.

  With a look of triumph, Felicity turned back to me and said, "See? Some people listen."

  More likely, some people were tired of her shit.

  I knew I was.

  I held out my hand. "All right. Gimme the letter."

  With a sly smile, Felicity scurried to the limo and retrieved a folded sheet of paper. When she handed it over, she said, "Remember, you owe me for this."

  I owed somebody something.

  I just didn't know who. Or what.

  With the letter in-hand, I strode closer to the gate, where the landscape lighting would offer just enough illumination to read. And so I did.

  The letter was hand-written, not typed. It was Anna's handwriting, too. By now, I'd know it anywhere.

  But it wasn't the handwriting that made my heart fall to my gut. By the time I finished, I knew one thing for damn sure. Anna was a liar, but not in the way I'd thought.

  Chapter 72

  Anna

  I wasn't sure how long Jack and I had been sitting together in the near darkness, but I did know that it felt way too long, especially after I'd learned who was outside.

  I stared down at the half-eaten slice of apple pie. I hadn't enjoyed it, and now I didn't even want the rest. What a waste.

  For the umpteenth time, I glanced toward the front of the house. "What time is it, anyway?"

  "Just after midnight."

  This was earlier than I'd thought. Still, I felt like I'd been sitting here forever. On impulse, I pushed back my chair and stood.

  Jack asked, "Where are you going?"

  I glanced toward the stairway, and then toward the front of the house. "Actually, I’m not sure."

  "You know you can’t go outside."

  So he'd said. I asked, "Why not?”

  "Because I promised to keep you in the house." />
  I stiffened. "So let me get this straight. You're babysitting me? Is that why you were sitting here in the dark?"

  "Well, it wasn't because I was going for pie if that was your other guess."

  As he said it, he sounded way too much like Flynn. With a sigh, I turned away, not even sure where I was going – upstairs to sulk in private or outside to make a giant spectacle of myself.

  Hey, both options were tempting in their own way.

  Jack's voice cut through the darkness. "Stay, and I'll tell you something you don't know."

  "Like what?"

  He paused as if thinking. "How about this? The story of how Flynn became a movie star."

  "Thanks, but I already know.” It was, after all, common knowledge. Flynn had gotten the role of Prince Marcus as part of an international talent search.

  By the time they'd started casting the movie, the series of books had already taken the market by storm, which meant there'd been tons of speculation on who would play the leading role.

  "Wrong," Jack said. "You just think you know."

  "Really?"

  "Have a seat, and I'll tell you."

  It was too tempting to pass up. Reclaiming my chair, I said, "All right. So how did he get it?"

  "First," Jack said, "did you know that Flynn and I were friends before all this?"

  I didn't know. I'd assumed – probably like everyone else – that they'd met on the movie set. "You were?"

  Jack nodded. "We met doing construction near the Canadian border, roomed together for a while."

  Flynn had mentioned working construction, but he hadn't mentioned Jack at all.

  I asked, "When was this?"

  "Almost ten years ago."

  The timing made sense. All of Jack's books had come out within the last decade – a decade that had been very good to both him and Flynn.

  I said, "So you were writing and working construction?"

  "Not for long."

  Thinking of his phenomenal success, I replied, "I can believe that."

  "So anyway, the books get picked up by this movie studio. And for publicity, they decide they're gonna have a big talent search to cast the lead role."

  "I know. But you said that isn't how Flynn got it."

  "See, that's the thing," Jack said. "It is. And it isn't."

  "What do you mean?"

  "The whole talent search – it's mostly a publicity stunt. They're gonna hire who they're gonna hire. But still, they've got their casting people going from city to city, and dragging my sorry ass with them."