Lucy and The Love Pact: Young Adult Fake Romance (Love in Ocean Grove Book 2)

by Anna Catherine Field

  “Nothing but two people trying to level up in the same business by working together.”

  She doesn’t look convinced but releases me. Dean waits for me, holding the passenger side door open.

  “Thanks,” I say, navigating the steep step in my dress. He offers me his hand and I take it. He pauses as I situate myself, before closing the door.

  “You look really nice tonight.”

  I smooth down the fringe. “You do, too, and ignore those two crazy people inside. They have nothing better to do than stir up trouble.”

  He laughs. “I had to answer a million questions from Emily. Including pass along your regrets for not making an appearance at her birthday party next week.”

  When he gets in the driver’s seat, I ask, “She really wants me to come?”

  “Yes, but don’t worry. I said no.” He starts the truck with a loud roar and pulls out of the driveway. “I’m going to have to find someplace to hide out. Her friends are very enthusiastic and things have only gotten worse since I started on Avondale. They’re all big fans.”

  I laugh at the idea of Dean fighting off thirteen-year-old girls. The drive to the amphitheater is quick and Dean hangs a sign on his rearview mirror when we get to the lot that ushers us to reserved parking.

  “Fancy,” I say. I’m mostly happy I don’t have to walk too far in these shoes.

  “Marissa, my agent, hooked us up,” he says as the valet attendant waves us in.

  “Perks of being a rising star.”

  He grins. “Did I tell you they asked me back? Another week of work. I don’t want to jinx anything, but things are looking good.”

  I jump up and without thinking, lean across the bench seat of the truck and give him a hug. “That’s amazing!”

  His arms wrap around me and I feel the warmth of his face near mine. He smells so good. Like a mix of leather and boy and everything I’ve worked to stay away from.

  I pull back, a little dizzy from the warmth and smells and too much too much.

  “And your agent, is she happy about the social media work we’ve done?”

  “Why do you think she gave me these tickets?”

  I notice the attendant getting impatient. “Gotcha. Well, before we head in, do we need a game plan?”

  “I’m probably wrong about this,” he says, “but I think we should just try to have a good time.”

  “You probably are wrong, but honestly, I like that idea.” A second attendant, a young guy around college age, appears at my door and opens it. “Sorry,” I apologize. He takes one look at me and tilts his head like he’s trying to place me.

  “No worries,” he says, his mouth slipping into a grin. He reaches his hand out to help me navigate the height, but suddenly Dean appears with a tense jaw and dark eyes, offering his help instead.

  The attendant steps back, hands up.

  “I hate that,” I mutter.

  “Hate what?” Dean asks as I take his hand and walk away from the car.

  “The way people look at me when they’re trying to figure out who I am or where they know me from. It’s one second before they remember my most humiliating moment.”

  He stops and looks at me, forehead furrowed. “You really don’t see yourself clearly at all, do you?”

  There’s no time to answer that, because suddenly we’re swept toward the VIP entrance. Our hands are still linked and he doesn’t let go. I tell myself it’s because of the crowed. Or even the photographers lurking around the entrance. There are enough celebrities living in this area to warrant a few paparazzi, the Avondale co-stars for example, but I’m surprised when they call Dean’s name.

  Even more so when they call mine.

  My heart hammers, knowing this is a test for me. I’d reinserted myself in this world and I had to own it. Dean releases my hand the moment the flashes start. I adjust my head, giving them my best angle while not stopping. We focus on getting into the venue.

  Inside, I exhale and try not to wonder why Dean stepped away.

  “So much for just having fun,” he says, then frowns. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I should have expected it, I guess.” I glance around, looking to see if anyone inside has noticed us. So far, no one has. “We’ve been laying the ground work with our posts. At some point, the goal is for it to take on a life of its own.”

  He makes a face. “We’re supposed to want that?”

  “Within reason, yeah.” My nerves are still on edge though. It’s one thing for them to take the photo. What they decide to write about is another. But I know in my heart this is what I want. I want to go back on the show and do my best. I want the world to know I’m okay.

  It doesn’t hurt that Dean Turner thinks I’m okay, too.

  “Come on,” he says. “Let’s go find our seats.”

  It’s a beautiful night and the amphitheater backs up to the ocean. The moon isn’t quite full but it’s big and bright. I’ve always heard about this place. Saw photos and wanted to go see concerts here, but never had the chance. The front section is filled with small, intimate tables. People either bring their own picnic or the venue provides one, and depending on which, the tables are set up in different styles. Some are extravagant with candelabras and a five-course meal. Others less dramatic but still romantic and fun. Twinkling lights are wrapped around palm trees. I let the anxiety of the paparazzi fade as we’re ushered to our seats.

  “Did you do this?” I ask, gaping at the table. It’s covered in a pale blue checkered cloth. A small vase of flowers sits in the middle and two flickering candles. A picnic basket sits on the top.

  “I wish I could take credit.” He pulls out my chair.

  Once seated, we open the basket and Dean removes a note.

  “Just a little gesture to two of the hardest working rising stars in the industry. Enjoy a night on me—Marissa.”

  “Your agent loves you.”

  He shrugs but the smile confirms it. I start unpacking the meal that’s from a local specialty shop. Cheese and meats, an array of fruit, and a big salad.

  “Seriously,” I say, poking around, “No bread? Not all of us are on the starve yourself diet.”

  “Not all of us have the metabolism of a hummingbird,” he retorts, piling the meat and cheese together in a makeshift sandwich.

  “Is it worth it?” I ask. “Giving up all the good stuff?”

  “It sucks sometimes, like when I have to sit there and everyone is eating Pie Whole without me.” He shrugs. “But I have pretty strong willpower.”

  That’s the truth. “You have to miss something. What is it?”

  He thinks on it. “Probably a really good ice cream. Like the ones at the creamery in town. If I’m anywhere near it, I just cave.”

  “Oh! That’s Christian’s family’s business. He’s like, basically the owner. It’s where he and Maya met. We have that ice cream at our house all the time.”

  His eyes widen. “Thanks for telling me. I’ll never come back to your house again.”

  That thought makes me a little sadder than it should. “Maybe I’ll just put a lock on the freezer.”

  “Good plan, although I could probably figure out a way around that if I really wanted to.” He pulls two plates out of the basket and loads them up with salad, then hands me one, along with a fork. “So how did you meet Maya?”

  “Um, we’ve known each other for years.”

  “You went to school together?” His eyes show genuine interest and as much as I want to hold all of my past tight, I know it’s not exactly fair. We’d agreed to trust one another.

  “No,” I push the lettuce around my plate, “we met at the Girls' Home, before I got my foster placement.”

  “Oh,” he says, reaching for his bottle of water. It’s clear he doesn’t know what to say next.

  “Look, my story isn’t that tragic.”

  “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want, I understand.”

  “It’s okay,” I reply, feeling the urge to talk. “My m
om died when I was a kid and the state had to hunt down my dad. He was an Ocean Grove trust fund kid that didn’t want to grow up and didn’t want to take responsibility. The state took over and because of his family name and connections, they wouldn’t remove his rights and he wouldn’t give them up, so the best thing I could get was a temporary home.”

  “So you were kind of stuck in foster care?”

  “Total limbo for years. The Johnsons were nice—great. They would have adopted me if my dad had backed off.”

  “But then they kicked you out because of the modeling show?”

  “They put their foot down about me leaving school early and because I was eighteen, I took a stand and did it anyway. It cut me off from them and the state declared me an adult, so they wouldn’t have to pay for my care anymore.”

  He watches me closely, gray eyes intense in the candlelight. He’s incredibly handsome, breathtakingly so, and when he looks at me like that, with care and concern, my heart flip-flops in my chest.

  “I know you think I’m determined, Lucy, but if I’d been up against those odds, I don’t know if I ever would have taken a shot at acting.” His hand covers mine. “You’re strong and brave. I’m sorry I gave you a hard time when we first met.”

  I stare at our hands, the way his feel strong and warm, comforting. It scares me because whenever I let myself trust another person, things tend to fall apart, but Dean is hard to resist and an apology…those are hard to come by, at least in my experience.

  “Lucky for you I thrive when someone pushes back. If you hadn’t called me out that day in the alley, I don’t know if I would’ve had the guts to talk to Fiona.” I take a breath and fight the goosebumps on my skin. “I’d be at home, eating leftover pizza wearing a Snuggie and not here with you.”

  His eyes hold mine and I notice that we’ve leaned close together. His eyebrows furrow and I wait, breath caught, for what he does next.

  “You wear a Snuggie?” His lips twist upward.

  “Yeah, and I make it look hot, too.”

  There’s a beat between us until we both burst out laughing. Dean wipes tears from his eyes. “Now I want you to show up on TNBM in a Snuggie and see what Fiona says.”

  I fight for air. “She’d kick me out in a heartbeat. Can you imagine?”

  The band walks on the stage and the audience settles down. Wayback isn’t a typical band, they’re magical. It’s all instrumental, often used on soundtracks for TV shows and movies. Dean and I shift in our chairs, his shoulder brushing mine, which sends an unexpected shiver down my spine. It’s obviously to get a better view, but there’s something ebbing between us, a comfort, and I’m not used to it. Even while focused on the band, I’m overwhelmed by his nearness, his scent, his warmth. The songs are long and they slip from one to another fluidly, and when a new one starts it takes me a moment to figure out where I’ve heard it before.

  “Avondale?” I say, recognizing the intro music. I’ve only watched a few episodes.

  He nods. “Yeah, they do all the music. I guess that’s why Marissa got the tickets.”

  The music is haunting, beautiful, perfectly captures the essence of the show filled with drama and intrigue, romance and first love. A breeze blows off the ocean and I tell myself that’s why I shiver, not the music or the nearness of the boy next to me.

  He glances over. “Cold?”

  “I’m fine.”

  He doesn’t buy it and in a blink his arm is around my shoulder, pulling me as close as I can get. I’m engulfed by his scent again and the soft feel of his buttery leather jacket. My heart thunders as loud as the drums on stage and I will myself to relax. He’s just being nice. We’re friend-ish. Maybe even friends.

  At least, that’s what I tell myself as I rest my head on Dean’s shoulder, allowing myself, for once, to let my worries slip away and to be consumed by the moment.

  22

  Dean

  I look down at the girl in my arms, unsure how she even got there. It was my doing, that’s for sure. One minute I was watching the concert, the next, her head was on my shoulder.

  I really like having her so close.

  The night had been a surprise. From meeting her roommate and getting the “don’t hurt my friend” overprotective glare from Maya’s boyfriend, to dealing with the paparazzi and then Lucy telling me so much about her past, nothing had gone according to plan.

  My plan?

  Pick her up, see a concert, have a little fun, go home.

  Reality?

  We were way off course.

  And as much as I hate it when the band wraps up and the lights turn on, signaling the end of the concert, I’m also glad because I need to stop breathing in her amazing flowery scent and get some space so I can clear my head.

  Lucy’s not a potential girlfriend. We’re working together on our careers, toward a specific goal. Not a relationship.

  That’s what I tell myself as she sits up and stretches.

  “I need to stop by the restroom on the way out, if that’s okay.”

  “Sure,” I say, collecting the trash and leaving it in the basket. I pocket the note from Marissa. “I think it’s down this way.”

  The area is packed with people but I see a few familiar faces anyway, and while I wait, I wave to Reese and Lilliana from the show.

  “Dean!” Reese says, giving me a hug. “I saw you were here.”

  “Oh yeah?” I scratch my neck.

  “The paps were waiting at the VIP entrance. Someone must have told them we were coming.” She holds out her phone. Sure enough, there are a few pictures of me and Lucy walking in. “I think they were hoping Andrew Xavier would show up.”

  “Was he?” He’s a big name on the show and I’ve never spoken much to him. He seems even more focused on his career than I am.

  Lilliana shrugs. “I don’t know. He’s pretty elusive with his private time.”

  “So Lucy Harrington, huh?” Reese says. “I’ve been wondering who the mystery girl from your ChattySnap pictures is. I never would have guessed it would be her.”

  Lilliana makes a face at her friend. “It’s just a surprise. I mean, no one has seen her since she left the show and I heard she’s going back for the new season, Redemption something?”

  “Total drama,” Reese says in a low voice. “I mean the show, not Lucy.”

  Irritation swells. “Lucy and I have some mutual friends. You know we’re both from Ocean Grove.”

  “Right, locals.” Lilliana says with a smile. “I’m sure she’s great. I mean, what Fiona put her through? I would have lost it too if someone made me shave my head.”

  “It’s not different from what we go through,” Reese complains. “The show won’t let me do anything to mine without approval.”

  “I don’t think it’s the same thing,” Lilliana says, glancing over my shoulder. “Oh, there she is.”

  I turn and see Lucy talking to a girl and a guy. I don’t recognize them but it’s clear that she knows them. The girl has long blonde hair, curled, styled similarly to Reese and Lilliana. Same type of clothes, too. Basic stuff that looks good but not the same kind of risky outfit Lucy pulls off flawlessly.

  It’s in that moment I realize what Fiona did when she forced Lucy to shave her head.

  She made her unique in a sea of other beautiful women.

  My stomach does something funny when she looks my way and the girl she’s speaking to follows her line of vision. I may have no idea who she is, but she definitely knows who we are.

  “Busted,” Reese mutters.

  “Be nice,” Lilliana whispers. “The network wants us seen.”

  “What’s happening?” I ask, seeing the girl headed our way with a wild look in her eye.

  “Fangirl alert,” Reese says. “You want to be on Avondale? Welcome to our world.”

  “O.M.G,” The girl’s voice is a harsh ear-splitting screech. She rushes toward us. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

  Lucy and the guy both follow her. I give him
the once over, not exactly happy to see them together.

  “Guys,” Lucy says, “this is Veronica and Devin, friends of mine.”

  I notice the word “friend” wavers a little when she looks at Veronica.

  “I’m a huge fan,” Veronica says. “Huge. Avondale is my favorite show.” Her eyes skirt past the girls. “And you, Dean Turner, I’ve been trying to track you down for a long time.”

  I swallow, eyes darting to Lucy. She smiles in amusement. “You have?”

  “Oh yes. Little did I know, Lucy was keeping you a secret.”

  This girl…wow. Forward is an understatement. She takes a step forward and I bump into Lilliana. “Sorry.”

  She laughs. “No worries. Hey! We really need to get out of here, does anyone want a picture?”

  “Sure,” Devin says, eyeing both girls. I feel a little relief that he makes no bones about his interest in them and his lack of interest in Lucy. He pulls out his phone and gets a selfie.

  “How long have you known one another?” Veronica asks me and Lucy, her eyes narrow and her lips curve up. “Was it before or after Lucy’s tragic turn on Next Big Model?”

  To her credit, Lucy doesn’t react to her tone.

  “Uh, after.”

  “It’s too bad what happened, right, Luce?” She leans in conspiratorially, touching my arm. “She was gorgeous in high school, like the prettiest girl in school. We totally thought she’d win the contest. I mean, I was her biggest fan ever. Held viewing parties at my house and everything. But then Fiona made her shave her hair and well, we were crushed when she crashed and burned like that.”

  It’s clear from the glint in Veronica’s eye the last thing she wanted was for Lucy to succeed. This girl is awful.

  “Oh, I watched that last episode,” I reveal, moving closer to Lucy, and slipping my arm around her waist. She jolts a little in surprise but keeps a straight face. “That’s when I knew I needed to get to know her. Like, I fell that day. Hard. Everything about her captivated me, her strength and conviction, and when we finally did meet, I couldn’t believe how amazing and beautiful she was in person.”

  I touch her cheek and lean in, kissing her gently on the temple. Lucy’s cheeks heat instantly, but she looks at me with gratitude and her fingers link with mine.