She has really nice legs.
“It’s her,” Emily sputters. “From the show.”
“Em, chill out,” I say, pushing past my sister and stepping between them. “Hey, sorry about that. In case I didn’t tell you, she’s a huge fan.”
Lucy’s eyes are wide as she watches Emily try to control herself, while simultaneously gawking and reaching for her phone. I snatch it out of her hands. “No. You can’t tell anyone Lucy is here.”
“Why not?” she says, eyes darting over my shoulder. “My friends are going to die when they hear Lucy Harrington is at my house.”
“Because I said so.”
“It’s fine,” Lucy says touching my arm. “What’s your name again?”
“Emily.” Her eyes are wide as saucers. “Emily Turner. I’m Dean’s sister.”
“I can tell. You have the same eyes.” Lucy grips the strap of her bag hanging over her shoulder. “You want to take a picture together?”
“Yes! Really?” Em looks at me. I shrug.
“Sure, just do me a favor. Wait to post it on social media. Your brother and I need to work out a few things first.”
“What kind of things?” Em looks between us, wheels turning.
“Actor-model things,” I say quickly. “We’re doing some work together and we’re not allowed to tell anyone yet. You know, contract stuff.”
That my sister understands. She’s listened to me and my parents talk about my acting long enough to get that there are a lot of rules.
“Okay, I get that.” She holds up her camera but Lucy’s arms are longer and I wait while they take a selfie. When Lucy smiles, even if it’s fake, my stomach does a little somersault.
“You done?” I ask Emily. “We’ve got some work to take care of.”
She stares at her phone and the photo of her and Lucy. “Yeah, sure.” She glances up. “Thanks for the picture. It was super cool meeting you.”
“It was super cool meeting you, too,” Lucy replies, and this time I’m pretty sure the smile is real.
I ignore another somersault.
My sister runs up the stairs, tripping over the top step but hopping up before either of us can react. “She seems fun,” Lucy says.
“She’s a good sister.”
“You think she really won’t share that photo around?”
“Oh she’ll show it to her friends but she’ll hold off on the social media. Probably. She’s pretty savvy about all this.”
She laughs. “I bet.”
My parents aren’t home from work yet, but Emily will tell them if I have a girl up in my room. Even if there’s nothing going on between me and Lucy, I don’t want to have that discussion.
I also don’t want my sister eavesdropping, so I suggest we head out to the back porch. It’s screened in with comfortable chairs and a small square backyard. Dad put in a firepit a year ago that runs on gas. I flick the switch on the way out.
“This is nice,” she says, removing a notebook with a glittery cover as she sits down.
“Yeah, my mom is a realtor so she’s always into the new decorating trends.”
“Well you can let her know that I learned today at Fiona’s Home that mirrors are big. Massive ones, and all over the place.”
“I’ll tell her.” I laugh and nod at the notebook. “What’s that?"
“This is going to be our contract.”
“Contract?”
“Yeah, we both want something out of this arrangement and it seems like a good idea to get it down in writing.”
“You sound like my agent.”
“Your agent must be smart.” I roll my eyes but she smiles and my heart skips a beat. She’s really breathtaking when she does that.
I watch as she takes the cap off her pen. “You declared rule number one yesterday. No hats.” She points to her hair. “I didn’t like it, but you’re right. I have to stop hiding.”
“For what it’s worth, I do like your hair.”
She frowns and makes a note. “What other rules do you want to establish for me.”
“Well, what were you like before you went on the show?”
“Fashionable. Like, all the time. The other girls at school looked up to me and asked my advice.”
“And you just stopped?”
“After the meltdown, I didn’t want anyone to recognize or notice me. It seemed easier if I dressed like a frump.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I hate to tell you, Lucy, even dressed like a hobo, you’d stand out. Most girls aren’t walking around with a set of killer legs and a face like yours. Trust me, not even on Avondale.” I watch her squirm with discomfort. “But you’re right. Getting back to your fashionable style is probably a good idea. The actresses on Avondale are always posting pictures of their new clothes or whatever.”
“You’re friendly with those girls?”
There are three main actresses on the show. Lilliana, Reese, and Kai. As the show gets bigger so do they, and only Reese has made any effort to talk to me, but that may be because our characters are going to interact more.
“No, not really,” I say. “I just follow their ChattySnap account like everyone else.”
“Okay, so what else?”
“I think we need to do a few social things together. Parties, the beach, that kind of thing.”
“That’s all very public.”
“Yeah well, you’re about to lose your anonymity again, wouldn’t you rather do it in a few controlled situations?”
“You have a point.” She writes it down.
So far, this has been easy. When she first proposed this, I thought she’d fight back a little more, but then again, this girl was once fiercely determined. Maybe she’s still lingering around. We’ll see how she handles my last idea.
“One last thing before we talk about my stuff,” I say, knowing this may be a deal breaker.
“What’s that?”
“I need you to think about this before you say no, okay?”
“Are you trying to get me into some kind of fake relationship with you? Because that’s not happening.”
“What?” I say, unwilling to admit that Marissa had pushed it. “No. This is still about preparing you for the contest. I think that before we can call this a success, you’re going to have to go see your foster family.”
Her pen hovers over the paper. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
She scowls. “Why would you even suggest that? It has nothing to do with TNBM.”
I roll my eyes. “It has everything to do with the show. If you can’t handle seeing your foster family and dealing with those issues, there is no way you’re going to be able to take what Fiona throws at you.”
“How so?”
“Look, Emily makes me watch that show with her every week. Fiona and the other judges love to bring up past trauma. Half the competitions are based on the contestants' fears and weakness. You’ve got to be prepared for anything. What if she decides to bring one of them on the show to confront you? What if she creates an entire photoshoot around working with foster families. She’s going to try to make you crack and your family situation is an Achilles heel.”
She’s still frozen in her spot but I know she’s listening. I lean over and take her hand.
“Fiona isn’t evil, but she’s a business woman through-and-though. She’s always going to do what’s in the best interest of the show and that’s exploiting the contestants.”
I dip my head so I can see her eyes and there aren’t tears like I expected. Her eyes are clear, like blue crystals, and I’m struck by the determination reflected back at me. She glances at my hand on top of hers.
Her lips are upturned in the smallest smirk and I wonder briefly what it would be like to kiss her. I remove my hand.
“How did you get so smart, Dean Turner?”
I shrug. “It’s a gift.”
She nods. “I’ll do it. No hats, go back to my amazing style, attend a party with you and yeah, fine, I’l
l consider seeing my foster family.”
“Sounds good,” I say, starting to stand. She reaches out and grabs my arm.
“Not so fast.”
“What? Aren’t we done?”
“With me, we are,” she replies, flipping over her notebook to a clean sheet of paper. “Now we talk about how we’re going to amp up your social media presence.”
I lower myself back in the chair and the expression on her face tells me I may know my way around confidence, but I don’t have a clue what this girl has in store for me.
15
Lucy
“Before we start,” I say, watching him closely, “exactly what do you want out of this arrangement?”
“I told you, my agent thinks I need to boost my social media signal. The network is looking for people with a large presence.”
“But why? You know my goal. What’s yours?”
He runs his hand down his sharp jaw. “I don’t want to be relegated to background scenes or even one or two lines per show. I want leading roles.”
It’s good to hear him say he wants more—that everything in his life isn’t perfect. I nod in understanding. “I checked out your ChattySnap page and…it’s lacking. You don’t have enough followers, your content is lazy. I can see why your agent is concerned.”
“I still don’t get why it’s so important. I’m an actor, not some kind of social media influencer. “
“Because you have the tough skin to get the job, but do you have the charisma to keep the job and get the bigger roles you want? That’s the real question.”
“I’m just not used to having a lot of people in my business. I want to act because I enjoy it. I’m good at it. The fame stuff isn’t a big priority.”
I roll my eyes. “Here’s the thing with social media. You want to give your fans a taste of the pie but not the whole thing. These are little snapshots into your world, the image you want to present and how you want to sell yourself.”
“I’m not a very interesting person.”
“No,” she says. “You’re not. But you can be and you will be when I’m done with you. If you want to talk about confidence this is where it’s key. I totally believe you can walk into the room and wow the director, but can you keep the fans wanting more? That’s how you’re going to keep your job.”
He leans over the table, that lock of hair falling into his eyes. “So we’re kind of like opposites, you and me, with all of this.”
I focus on my notebook and not the fact he’s inches away. “Yeah, I guess we are.”
Together, we’re the perfect dynamic package.
“So,” I say, “I have a few ideas. It’s obvious that you’ve got a great body. You work out a lot, right?”
A smug grin tugs at his mouth when I admit I’ve noticed. “Yeah. I go to the gym and surf as much as possible.”
“Oh, surfing.” I scribble that down. “That’s awesome. You need to start filming a little of that. Do little videos of your workout routines.”
He frowns. “What? Why?”
“They’re super popular right now. People love watching things like that, especially when it’s a really hot guy.”
“Wait,” he says, brushing that lock of hair aside. “Did you just say you think I’m hot?”
Heat blossoms on my cheeks. “I think you’re ripped. Jennifer made me watch an episode of your show. It’s no wonder they like you in the background.”
He leans back in his seat, watching me closely. “Ahh, so you watched my show.”
“Jennifer made me watch your show, and you watched my show, so we’re even.”
“But you noticed my abs,” he says. “You checked me out.”
I copy his pose, leaning back in my seat and crossing my legs one over the other. His eyes follow my movements and I reply, “What was that you said earlier? About my 'killer legs'?”
He pales. “That was purely about modeling.”
“As my observation about your torso is just about your career.” I’m lying, of course. His abs are amazing and I really want to get a look at them up close. “But we’re really getting off topic. We’re obviously both attractive people, but you need to be using your attributes to sell yourself. You’re good at staying fit, in the same way I’m instinctive about fashion.”
“Okay, yeah I can do that. I’ve set up some killer workouts anyway, I wouldn’t mind sharing them. That seems less intrusive than a lot of other things.”
“Good,” I look at the next point on my list. “You also need to show some social stuff. Those public activities you want us to do? We’ll need to document.” He nods. “Oh, and I’m probably going to have to update your wardrobe.”
He looks down at his lame T-shirt from a high school play. “What? Why?”
“Because the final thing on the list is we’re going to start hanging out together and I need you to up your clothing game.”
“We’re just going to suddenly start hanging out?” he asks.
“Yep. Celebrities with famous or in my case, infamous friends? It’s like catnip. It’s why fans watch your profile in the first place. It’s a win for both of us. Followers will want to know everything and we’ll give them very little.”
He nods, like he’s finally understanding. As I’m finalizing the list, he pulls out his camera and takes a photo of me. “Hey!”
He looks down at the screen and then back up at me. “Trust me?”
I hold his eye for a moment and a small chill runs down my back, probably from the cool weather. Dean and I are going to have to trust one another and there’s no time to start than now.
“Yes,” I say, not sure if it’s completely true. “I trust you.”
He smiles, it’s the type that’s infectious, and while I finalize the rules of our arrangement, Dean uploads the photo on his ChattySnap account.
“For the record,” he says, leaning back in his seat. “I never would have agreed to a fake relationship with you.”
“Why’s that?” I ask. “Too embarrassing?”
He shakes his head in annoyance. “Of course not. It’s just that I don’t date.”
“Interesting,” I reply. It adds up. There’s zero implication on his online profile that he’s had a girlfriend. The only person that stood out is a blonde from his school play. She tagged him in a few photos on her account.
“Why is that interesting?”
I close my notebook and stand, thinking it’s probably time to go. “Because neither do I.”
16
Dean
“Nice work today,” Reese says as I walk off the set. I’d officially had my first day of real acting work. Spoken lines—with Reese, actually. She plays second fiddle to the main mean girl and the writers liked the idea of her having a new guy to flirt with.
Flirting, I can do. It’s almost second nature. So much so that I have to keep reminding myself to hold back when I’m with Lucy.
It’s definitely a challenge.
“You were great,” I say. We’re both in Avondale sportswear; me football, her cheerleading. We’d shared a moment under the bleachers. “Thanks for being patient with me.”
“Hey,” she says, her long blonde hair swinging in a ponytail. The show gives her this sweet vibe, the girl-next-door, but it’s slowly being revealed she has a lot of secrets. My character, Tyson Porter, is going to be one of them. “We’ve all had a first day. You nailed it.”
I smile and head back to the guest trailer. The whole thing is set up at a high school about thirty miles out of town that is no longer used. From what I understand, Avondale uses it for all the school scenes, including the old stadium in the back. I have a break before my next scene, which is not a speaking part. I pull out my phone and see that I have a few messages. The first is from Marissa.
M: I see you took my advice. Love the pic. Keep it up.
Then Lucy.
L: I see you’ve gained a few thousand followers. Keep it up.
I reply.
D: Thanks. I should have
known I’m as good at photography as everything else?
L: *eyeroll emoji*
I smile to myself. I start to put my phone away and then reconsider. A second later, I start typing.
D: Want to meet up later? Go shopping?
There’s a pause, the little dots moving but no message coming through. I start to regret asking her that. Too soon? Too much?
Her message pops up.
L: Sure. I get off work today at 5.
D: I’ll pick you up.
“Dean?”
I glance up and see a woman with a headset and clipboard. “We need to get you changed for the next scene.”
“Great,” I say, putting the phone away. I follow the woman across the lot, feeling confident that today is a success all the way around.
“This is what you drive?” Lucy asks, walking up to me. She’d asked me to wait outside while she finished up her shift at Pie Whole. She’s not in her normal work clothes, instead changing into a pair of high-waisted shorts and a striped tank. “A truck?”
“It was my dad’s.” I push off the grill. On the sidewalk we pass Bazinga Comics, which has a full display for the new Photobooth Society graphic novel Emily’s obsessed with. I should go in and buy one for her birthday that’s coming up in a few weeks.
We keep moving—all the clothing shops are in walking distance.
“What does he do?”
“He’s an architect, so he spends time out on the worksites. And my mom is a realtor so she uses it to carry around those big signs and stuff.” I glance over. Lucy looks good today. Once again, she’s ditched the hat and it’s like she’s started to figure out what to do with her hair. I’m still not so sure why she got that upset about shaving it. The girl looks gorgeous no matter what. “He says he needed it for work, but really I think he just likes driving around in a big truck. What kind of car do you drive?”
“A Lexus.”
I do a double-take. “A what? How did you pull that off?”
She shrugs. “My foster family gave it to me and when I left, they told me to keep it.”
Lucy and The Love Pact: Young Adult Fake Romance (Love in Ocean Grove Book 2) Page 6