“Don’t be scared with me,” I tell her softly, looking at her. I want to walk to her and grab her face in my hands, but instead, I just hold my hand out to her. “I promise to keep you safe.” She doesn’t look sure but walks to me and fits her hand again in mine. We stand and see that the water is coming down in a stream. The mountains on the other side are full of trees. Mostly pine trees.
She releases my hand. “Go walk ahead so I can take a picture.” I walk ahead of her and look back over my shoulder, giving her my smirk.
“Put the caption “ain’t no mountain high enough,”” I joke, and she looks at me. “What? Too cheesy?” I take my phone out of my pocket and do a selfie of the mountain in the back. “I’m posting mine,” I tell her, and she just shrugs and then takes another picture of the mountain. “Where are you posting that?”
She looks over and smiles. “I’m going to send it to my mom and then post it on my Instagram.” I walk to her.
“Why haven’t you accepted my follow request?” I ask her, and the wind blows her ponytail. When some hairs get stuck in her lip gloss, she gently pulls them out.
“Because my Instagram page is boring. It’s just travel pictures,” she tells me.
“And?” I ask her, cocking my hip. “Accept my follow request, Erin,” I tell her, grabbing her hand and continuing our walk up the trail. We get to a higher spot, and the water sounds like it’s raging. I walk to the edge and see that it goes down steep on both sides. It looks like a sand slope, but it’s rock all the way down to the swift blue-green stream. We continue walking, just looking around as we get higher and higher and the waterfall gets louder and louder.
The chirping birds and the sound of rushing water fill the air as we walk deep into the trees and then down some wooden stairs. She holds my hand tighter as we make our way down. The stairs become steep at one point and then the mist of water hits us. “Oh my God, we’re going to die,” she whispers. “I want to go back.” She walks back up the hill.
“I promise you that it will be okay,” I tell her, and she looks up at me. We walk across the rocks to where a fence keeps you in on one side. We finally come to the square enclosure that sits in the middle with a wooden bench on one side, and just past the pine trees is the most beautiful, peaceful sight I’ve ever seen. A waterfall cascading down between two rocky mountains.
“Oh, my.” She holds my hands by the tips now as she walks to the edge of the railing. “This is so pretty,” she says and takes out her phone and snaps a picture. Then she steps back. “Carter, get in there. I’m going to snap a couple of shots,” she says, and then she takes them. I motion with my hand for her to come to me. She does, and I put my hand around her shoulder and grab my phone from my pocket.
“Smile,” I tell her, taking a selfie of ourselves with the waterfall in the back. The sun is peeking just onto the water, making it even more breathtaking. “Jim,” I call him, and he comes forward. “Will you take a picture of us?” I hand him my phone, and he steps back. “Big smile. This is going on my Instagram,” I tell her, and she just shakes her head, wrapping her arms around my waist. It’s a pose that I’ve had with a million other women, but with her touch on me, I get goose bumps. “One more,” I say as I lean my head closer to hers. “Take off your glasses.” He snaps a couple more pictures, and then finally, I turn and sit down on the bench.
She comes over to me, putting her hand on my shoulder. “You did good.” She smiles, and I want to lean up and cup her cheek in my hand and just kiss her. Doesn’t even have to be a deep kiss. It doesn’t have to be a kiss to last for hours; it just has to be a peck. Just her lips on mine, and I would die a happy man. But I don’t do any of that. I chicken out and then get up, and instead, I hold her hand all the way to the bottom of the mountain, and then we make our way home.
“Today was so good,” she says, leaning her head back against the seat. “I can’t believe we were out hiking for six hours.”
“It’s my favorite thing to do,” I tell her as I drive back to the house. “I usually go by myself. It’s my solitude.”
She looks over at me. “I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have come if I had known.” Her voice goes soft, and again, she puts my needs in front of the fact that she loved what she just did.
“I wanted you there,” I say, and she looks out the window, sitting back, and when we pull up to the house, it’s dark outside, but the lights are lit up outside, and when she gets out of the car, I grab her hand and walk to the back of the house to enter. She walks up the steps and stops when she gets to the top of the stairs. The fireplace is already lit, and there is a chef in the kitchen. “I thought after all that walking outside, it would be great to come home and have dinner already done.”
“You did this?” she asks, looking around. “I was just thinking that I would have to cook since you took me to the waterfall.” She smiles. “But this is so much better.”
“Well, I’m happy I can assist you,” I tell her, and then she turns around.
“I’m going to shower. I’ll be back.” I watch her walk away, and then I walk to my own room, getting into the shower where, for the second time in one day, I take care of myself. Walking to the kitchen, I hear her laughter and then see she is sitting at the counter talking on the phone.
“I swear, Mom, I have Billy boots,” she says and then laughs again. “The next time I come home, I’m buying you a pair, and we are going to go hiking,” she says and then she looks up at me. “Okay, Mom, I have to go.” She looks at me. “Love you, too.” Disconnecting the phone, she puts it on the counter. “Hey.”
I walk into the kitchen, looking for the chef. “Where is Riccardo?” I ask her, looking around for him.
“He finished what he had to do, and I told him he could go. I’ll serve us.” She gets up, going to the stove and grabbing the oven mitt to take the food out. “He made steak with a peppercorn sauce, some sweet potato mash, regular mash, and steamed asparagus.”
“It smells amazing,” I tell her, and my stomach makes a loud rumbling noise. “Where do you want to eat?”
“The dining room,” she says, and I nod at her. “Do you want one or two pieces of steak? He left us six pieces.”
“One for now,” I tell her, grabbing everything I can to set up the table. “If someone would have told me I would be staying in on a Saturday night, I would have asked if they were drunk,” I tell her, “but I have to admit it’s not that bad.”
“I can’t remember the last time I actually got super dressed up to go out.” She picks up the plates that she just finished making.
“There is a red carpet event next Saturday,” I tell her, thinking about it. “It’s this whole fundraiser.”
“How red carpet?” she asks me, and I look at her confused as she cuts into her steak. “Like red carpet Oscars or red carpet MTV awards?”
“I have to wear a tux, so I have no idea what category that falls into,” I tell her and cut my own piece of steak.
“Do you hate it?” She continues to ask me questions.
“I don’t hate it,” I tell her honestly, “but I don’t love it either.”
“We did the red carpet for the Tyler Beckett movie, and I swear it was the longest day of my life.”
“I was there,” I inform her. “I did arrive a touch late.”
“I know you were there,” she says, shaking her head. “You arrived with Roxanne and left with that reporter.”
I shrug my shoulders. “I have no idea.”
“How do you not know who you slept with and who you didn’t?” she asks me, and I just shrug.
“It’s just sex,” I tell her the truth. “Have you never had just sex?”
“No,” she answers, chewing. “I’ve had sex with five people my whole life, and with all of them, we were in a relationship.”
“Five people?” I ask in shock. “But you’re super-hot.”
She laughs. “Well, thank you, I guess.”
“I bet you can have any guy you want.” The t
hought of that makes me sick, and I drop my fork. It clangs on the plates, making her jump.
“Again, thank you, but I’m good,” she says, getting up and bringing her plate to the sink. She puts away the leftovers while I start the dishwasher.
“I’m going to bed,” I tell her. “All that fresh air has left me exhausted, plus we have a call time of six a.m.”
She nods her head, and I walk away from her. I force myself not to text her or go to her room, and I thought staying celibate for this contract assignment would be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. It turns out, walking away from her has to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.
Chapter Sixteen
Erin
The alarm ringing makes me roll over and grab my phone, stretching along the way. I turn off the alarm and go back under the covers with the phone, taking one more minute to just chill. A knock on the door makes me open my eyes again. “Come in,” I say loudly, and the door handle turns, and the door opens. I see him bending down to pick up the coffee cup that he put on the floor.
“Morning,” he says and comes into the room, handing me a coffee cup.
“Morning,” I say, sitting up in bed and reaching out to take the cup from him. I bring it to my nose and inhale it. There is nothing like the smell of coffee in the morning. “You are up early.” I take a sip of the coffee and watch him.
“I woke up at three and couldn’t go back to sleep,” he says. “So I went to the gym downstairs and did my workout.” I shake my head, thinking about him all sweaty. “The car is going to be here in thirty minutes,” he tells me, and I just nod. He walks out, closing the door behind him with a click.
I get out of the bed and walk to the bathroom, starting the shower. I quickly shower and then apply just a touch of mascara when I get out. I curl the bottom of my hair, grab the coffee, and walk into the closet. I take the white and black checkered skirt and pull it over my hips. Grabbing the long-sleeved red silk shirt, I slip it over my head and tuck it in. The bell-shaped cuffs make it look fancy. I slip on the black sky-high Louboutins that will have my feet burning by tonight, but I can never say no to putting them on my feet, regardless of the pain and suffering I’ll endure. I’m such a shoe addict. Grabbing my bag and jacket, I walk out to tell him, “I’m ready.”
He looks me up and down, wearing a scowl on his face, and he just turns and walks down the stairs. I follow him and notice that there isn’t a car outside. “Where’s Benny?” I ask of the driver who has been driving us to and from the set.
“I told him to take the weekend off,” he says, getting in the car, and I follow him to get into the front. I don’t say anything while he takes us to the set. He parks in the parking lot, and I grab my bag, leaving my jacket since it’s not that cold out. I walk beside him, and he nods to the crew members while we walk to his trailer. He opens the door to his trailer and waits for me to walk in before stepping inside. “Seriously, I’m going to go online and order you some functioning jeans. What size are you? This isn’t Hollywood. We are on a grimy movie set, and you act as if we are walking down Rodeo Drive on a shopping spree,” he says, his voice gruff and angry. I look over at him when I set my purse down and take a seat.
“What the hell is your problem?” I ask him.
“Nothing. It’s just that you come to a movie set dressed like that after I’ve told you already that it’s not appropriate.” He motions with his hands up and down.
“Like what?” I ask, looking down at my outfit. “I’m fully covered. The skirt even covers my knees. For Christ’s sake, would you prefer more Handmaid’s Tale and less handmaid?”
“It’s not what it’s covering,” he says, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s that it hugs everything.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” I tell him, throwing up my hands.
“Of course, you don’t because you’re oblivious,” he says, and now I shake my head.
“I’m in no mood for whatever this is,” I tell him, waving back and forth between us while grabbing my purse. “You honestly woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” Walking past him and out of the trailer, I head to the craft service and sit at one of the plastic tables after I get another cup of coffee. I obviously need more caffeine. My nerves are on the edge of the freaking Grand Canyon. There is nothing wrong with my outfit, and now I’m a bit pissed that I have to work on the plastic table, but I grab my computer and fire it up to see what the world of social media has in store for us today. I go on his Instagram, and I gasp out in shock. He put up two pictures from yesterday. The one selfie he took with the stupid caption “ain’t no mountain high enough” has two million likes and seven thousand comments. Then the other one he put on is the picture he took of us. I laugh at the caption, which is “I don’t know who is prettier.” I also see that there are three million likes and eight thousand comments, and I scroll through them to finally see that mostly everyone agrees he is the prettier one. No surprise there.
“All by yourself?” I hear a soft voice and look up at Jennifer. I smile at her and move my purse.
“Not for long, if you want to join me,” I tell her, and she sits down with her tray of a bagel and juice. “How are you?”
“I’m tired, but I’m just taking it all in,” she says, sitting down.
“Is this the first time for you to work on a movie set?” I ask, and she nods.
“I’m an intern,” she says, and I smile and lean in.
“Me, too,” I whisper, and a shocked look comes over her face.
She leans in also and whispers, “No way.”
“Yes,” I tell her. “I’m at the end of my internship.”
She picks up her juice and brings it to her mouth. “But you just have that thing . . .” she starts to say, and I look at her. “That whole ‘I know what I’m doing’ vibe.”
I laugh at her. “Then I have you fooled because I have no idea what I’m doing,” I tell her. “I was a month away from finishing my internship when they gave me the biggest opportunity that was clearly something I couldn’t say no to.”
“Really?” she says, taking a bite of her bagel. “I mean, that’s good, right?”
“It’s great. It’s just the biggest job that I’ve ever had, and if I fail, I lose the chance to work in New York, which is a dream for me.” I take a sip of my coffee. “If I can keep Carter’s image intact for the next thirty days, then I might actually succeed.”
“Oh, dear,” she says, and I just look at her.
“Yeah, so far, so good. But I have to change or rebrand him, so to speak. So as long as he keeps it zipped up, we’re all winning. He gets a brand-new image, and I get my dream job,” I tell her. I don’t know why it bothers me to say that, but it just does. It’s been over a week since he’s been in the paper with a girl, and people have already moved on to the next scandal.
“Well, I think you are winning,” she says. Before I can tell her all the ways I’m failing and that we’re barely one-quarter of the way through my sentence, I look up to see Ivan coming toward her. “Good morning, Ivan.”
“Good morning, ladies,” he says, smiling at us, then turns to Jennifer. “We are thirty minutes out. Can you get Carter?”
She nods and throws down her bagel, and I get up. “That’s okay. I’m going back there now,” I say even though I wasn’t. She needs to eat. “I’ll tell him.”
“Are you sure?” Jennifer asks, and I just smile at her.
“Yes. You finish your breakfast, and I’ll get him,” I say, grabbing my bag. “Thanks for chatting with me,” I tell her and then look at Ivan. “See you soon.”
Walking out of the stage, I go to the trailer. Right before I’m about to turn the knob, I hear him groaning. But not just groaning . . . the moaning kind of groaning. I step back from the door, my heart hammering in my chest. The moaning continues and then finally, he roars softly, and my hand goes to my stomach. I stand here in shock, the sounds of my heart
now echoing in my ears. I turn around and walk away with my head going a million directions at once. The images of yesterday replays—his smile, his smirk. I look everywhere, not sure where to go. Everyone seems to be moving on fast forward around me. I spot Jennifer, and she looks at me strange. “Are you okay?”
“Um, yeah,” I say, not sure of my words, not sure of anything. The tears sting my eyes, and I blink them away furiously. “Sorry, I just got lightheaded there for a minute. I guess I need to eat something,” I tell her and then walk away from her, going into the stage and looking for a bathroom. I follow the signs and finally walk inside the stall, and I close the door behind me. My bag slips out of my hands, falling to the floor with a clunk. I lean against the door and look up at the ceiling, the tears trying to be released, but I don’t let it. I blink them away, and I count to ten but that doesn’t work either, so I count to twenty. Finally, I shake my head and put my hands in front of my face.
“He’s not worth your tears,” I whisper to myself, unsure if the tears are because he’s having sex with some random woman or because he’s sabotaging not only his career but mine, too. I pick up my bag and step out, going to the sink, and see my face in the mirror. My nose looks a little red, but my eyes are the same. I keep blinking while I wash my hands and then walk out of the bathroom and crash into him. Carter. I know it’s him from his smell and his hands on my shoulders.
“There you are. Jennifer told me you weren’t feeling well,” he asks with worry in his voice, and I move my shoulder to get his hands off me.
I don’t bother looking up at him. “I’m fine.” I walk around him and walk away.
“No, you aren’t,” he says. I just continue walking, but he speeds up to my side. “You look pale like you are going to faint.”
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