Making It, #2

by Christina Ross

  “Selfless,” he’d said. “So, you do want to be with me.”

  I will not sway him . . .

  “I’m not answering that question.”

  “You just did, Julia. And I see what you’re doing now. You’re trying your best not to get in the way of my career. But don’t you see it’s that part of your personality that drives me crazy about you? You’re willing to put my career first instead of putting us first. No woman I’ve ever met has put herself second to me. But that’s what you’re doing now—and how in the hell am I supposed to ignore that? Because it’s rare, Julia. And it’s something I can’t ignore.”

  “Hunter—” I’d said.

  “How about if we sign off for tonight, get some rest, do some thinking, and reconnect tomorrow?”

  “All right,” I’d said. “But in the meantime, feel free to call me if you need me, OK?”

  “Do you know what I need right now?” he’d asked.

  “Tell me,” I’d said. “I mean, with Pepper back in the house, your hands are so full, I can’t even imagine—”

  “This has nothing to do with Pepper,” he’d said.

  Instead of engaging him, I’d just listened to him, unsure of what was to come after this particular conversation.

  “What if what I need now is you?” he’d said to me. “What if what I needed yesterday was you, Julia? A week ago? The day we first met? Because the first day you and I met? And after the dinner we had at db bistro? I’ve wanted you since then, so think about that tonight. Because if you can think about that and recall everything I’ve said to you tonight, it might lead you to your own truth when it comes to how you feel about me. But that’s enough for now. Both of us are worked up. We’re both emotional. So, I’m just going to say good night, let you know that I can’t wait to see you again—and also to have you in my arms again . . .”

  After he severed the connection, I sat in my living room looking out at the city’s brilliant blanket of shimmering lights, and as I did so, I had to remind myself that I’d only known Hunter for a month.

  But what a month it’s been . . .

  After sitting in thought for a moment, I got up, went into the kitchen, poured myself a glass of wine, and returned to my seat in the living room. There, I reflected on the past month, which included facing all of the initial warnings I’d received about Hunter, and then all of the highs I’d experienced with him when I realized that everyone who had warned me against him had been dead wrong.

  As I sipped my wine, I thought long and hard about how I felt about him, which at this point was an undeniable rush that thrummed deep in my heart and also in my body. And then there was how I felt whenever he kissed me, which pretty much laid me bare each and every time.

  As I looked out into the night, I knew at that moment that I was at a crossroads when it came to my relationship with him. If this film deal of his went through, I’d lose him forever, which was the last thing I wanted, because—Jesus Christ, let’s just face it—I was falling for him. I was. And just admitting that to myself scared the hell out of me as much as it thrilled me. Because after what Michael had done to me? After the devious way he had cheated on me? Never did I believe I’d ever fall for someone again.

  But I have . . .

  And now here I sat, taking a deep breath as I allowed myself to think about what Hunter meant to me, and what I meant to him. I mean, just moments ago, he’d pretty much admitted that he was in love with me before he’d hung up the phone.

  What if what I needed now is you? he’d asked me. What if what I needed yesterday was you, Julia? A week ago? The day we first met? Because the first day you and I met? And after the dinner we had at db bistro? I’ve wanted you since then, so think about that tonight.

  If that wasn’t love speaking to me, then what was?

  So, what am I to do now? I asked myself.

  Before I could even answer that question, my cell rang. I looked over at it on the coffee table, saw the time shining back at me from the screen, and I realized that I’d been sitting here thinking about Hunter for the past hour.

  And now, for some reason, he was calling me.

  I answered the phone.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “It’s me,” he said with urgency. “I need you to get down here as soon as possible.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “I’m not sure yet. All I know is that Pepper is about to do something to Lexi. I don’t know what she’s planned, but I wanted to call you before I was too sidelined to do so.”

  “Hunter, you’ve got to give me something . . .”

  “Pepper has been alone in the bedroom she shares with Lexi ever since she returned home from wherever the hell she went today. Just moments ago, the crew and I were watching her via video in the control room when she went over to her closet, took out a plastic box of some sort, and dumped the contents of it into Lexi’s bed. To me, it looked like a massive pile of thumbtacks, but since she acted so quickly, I can’t be sure. Whatever the case, Pepper’s obviously about to have her revenge on Lexi. Since I can’t call on her father or her mother to help me manage her, I need you to get down here as soon as possible.”

  “I’m on my way,” I said.

  And then, just like that, the phone went dead, I was up and on my feet, and after grabbing my keys and my handbag, I flew out the door. On the street corner, I snagged a cab, gave the driver the address, and we shot into the night with my heart slamming against my chest.

  What has she done? I thought as the city sped by. And what in the hell am I about to walk into . . . ?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  WHEN I ARRIVED ON THE corner of Prince and Broadway, I paid the driver, texted Hunter that I was here, then told the driver to keep the change.

  “Thank you, baby,” she said.

  “My pleasure, girl.”

  “You have a good night now, OK?”

  I paused when she said that, and I couldn’t help but smile ruefully as we exchanged glances in the rearview mirror.

  “Yeah, let’s hope that happens, because I’m pretty sure that’s not in the cards for me when it comes to tonight.”

  “Baby girl, you just pray to Jesus, you tell him your problems, and he’ll take care of the rest for you in the end. You’ll see. I pray every day, and look at me now—happy and with a big smile on my face, because despite the hardships life has handed me over the years? This girl knows that she’s been blessed, because the good Lord understands my problems, he listens to me, and he helps me through all of my problems whenever I reach out to him. If you don’t do the same, why not try it now and see if it works for you? I mean, it can’t hurt, right, cookie?”

  If I was going to pray for anything right now, it was that Hunter would choose his show over that damned script. Because if he did that? It would mean that he’d remain here in New York, where we could continue to explore whatever the hell was happening between us, which I knew was significant.

  But since nothing between us was certain at this point in our friendship/relationship, I simply nodded at the driver and sent up a prayer for that to happen.

  “Thanks,” I said to her.

  “Listen, sweetie, you tip well, so let me give my thanks to you, OK? OK.”

  I grinned at her when she said that, wished her a good evening, and the moment I stepped out of the cab, I dashed toward the building’s entrance, where Hunter already was there waiting to greet me on the sidewalk. The moment I saw him, I wondered if there could be a more welcoming sight than him waiting for me in his usual tight-fitting jeans and white T-shirt. Hunter wasn’t just the sexiest man I’d ever met, but he might also be the kindest—at least compared to the few men I’d allowed into my life.

  You already know he is . . .

  I do . . .

  Then why not get in front of this while you still have time? Why don’t you tell him that you’re falling for him? Why don’t you just ask him to stay?

  Have you not listened to me? I will not ge
t in front of his dreams.

  What if his dreams come down to you?

  Then it’s on him to come forward with his feelings, isn’t it? Because he’s the one with a potentially life-changing job on the line here, not me.

  Christ, you’re difficult.

  And I don’t think that you have a conscience.

  News flash, I am your conscience.

  That’s right, I thought. The selfish side of it, which I’m choosing to ignore.

  “Has anything happened yet?” I asked Hunter as I met him at the door.

  “No, but Lexi and the other girls have been watching a movie tonight, which is about to end soon. Since all of them have to get up early tomorrow morning, when that movie ends, they’ll all head off to bed, and it won’t be long before something does happen. That I know for sure.”

  Before I had the chance to respond, he swept me into his arms, pressed the length of his body against me, and when he kissed me? It was so tender, sexy, and heartfelt, my urge was to go in deeper, which he must have sensed, because he went in even harder. His tongue thrust into my mouth. I reached around his waist and pulled him closer to my body as my tongue collided against his. And as we kissed the kind of kiss you only experience a few times in your life? The kind of kiss that makes you want to rethink everything? I just drank it and his masculine scent in as if they were an elixir, because they were to me.

  Ever since I’d first met him, I’d tried my best to strike a balance when it came to our relationship—and I’d failed spectacularly. Over the past several weeks, the very man I’d tried my best to resist had become my drug of choice.

  And then there was this . . .

  Despite how close we’d become over the past month, we still were undefined as a couple, and all of that came down to the fact that we hadn’t had sex. And because of that alone—which was all on me, by the way, because I was the foolish one who’d been all about taking baby steps when it came to us—neither of us had seen what we could become together because we hadn’t made love yet.

  Yes, we were hot for one another. Yes, we were mad for one another. But at this point? Without sealing the deal after multiple dates, a romantic carriage ride through the Park, and basically spending every free moment we had together? We still hadn’t made love, and because of that, neither of us knew whether that moment would be a success, or an utter failure. You just never knew when it came to sex. Like a couple of wolves in heat, we’d just been circling around each other. And then, just when I felt ready to take that risk and make love with him, along came the offer from Fox. And now what was I supposed to do? Sleep with him to confuse the situation even more? Get my heart broken once again if I fell even harder for him—and he still decided to leave? After Michael, I just couldn’t go there again, regardless of how much I wanted to.

  “Why do you look so sad right now?” he asked me.

  “I look sad?” I said in surprise.

  “You do.”

  “If I’m feeling anything right now, it’s sheer tension and nerves.”

  Sure, that was a deflection, but it wasn’t a lie. In fact, when it came to what I was going through with Pepper and with Hunter, it was the damned truth.

  “I’m glad you came tonight,” he said.

  “I need you to show me what Pepper tossed into Lexi’s bed,” I said. “Because if you and I come to the conclusion that whatever Pepper’s up to is more than a harmless prank, we do need to get ahead of this—and stop it before anything serious happens.”

  He took hold of my shoulders.

  “Julia, we’ve talked about this,” he said. “You know that I need to let this play itself out. Whatever Pepper’s done is done. I can’t let her off the hook just because I saw her doing something nefarious on camera. That would be unfair to the show—and to all the girls who are part of the show. I mean, no one has ever gotten a pass when they pull some shit. Whatever Pepper’s up to is part of the storyline we’re telling on this season of the Teens. Obviously, these girls are supposed to be terrible—I mean, that’s what the audience expects from them. All of these girls—along with their parents—contractually agreed to take on whatever hits came their way this season, as they did last season. Pepper is about to exact her revenge on Lexi. I only wanted you to be here because I knew that you’d want to witness it for yourself, and also to be here for her and counsel her afterward should she take things too far.”

  “What time do the girls generally go to bed?” I asked.

  “Every one of them knows they have an early shoot tomorrow morning. Since that’s pretty much always the case, most of them are usually in bed by ten. But because the movie they’re watching tonight has a long running time, I think that they’ll turn in closer to ten-thirty, which isn’t long from now.”

  “Then let’s go inside,” I said. “On tape, I know you’ve captured whatever Pepper did that alarmed you enough to call me here tonight. I want to see that footage for myself so I can try to figure out what I’m about to get into.”

  “Absolutely,” he said as he wrapped his arm around my waist. “Let’s go in.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  WHEN HUNTER AND I ENTERED the first-story control room, which was just off the foyer and well away from where the girls were finishing the movie they were watching in the main living area, I said hello to the two other men in the room. First was the show’s associate director, Stephen Banks, and the other man was one of the show’s several assistant producers, John Burns, both of whom I’d come to know over the past four weeks.

  “Hey, Julia,” Stephen said.

  “Hi, Stephen.”

  “Good to see you, Julia,” John said. And then he just shrugged at me. “Though both Stephen and I wish it were under different circumstances.”

  “John, it’s called The Terrible Teens for a reason,” I said to him. “But considering what Hunter’s told me, it appears that Pepper is about to throw down with Lexi, so I’d like to see what she’s been up to. Can you show me?”

  When Hunter directed them to play the footage of Pepper going for the plastic box, Stephen fast-forwarded through hours of Pepper sitting in a weird kind of slumped, meditative haze on the edge of her bed. She was wearing a stylish top and fashionable jeans, her hair and makeup were on point, and then—without warning—she checked her watch, suddenly seemed to come back into herself as her eyes opened wide, and like a robot, she sat up completely straight.

  It was if another soul or being had seized control of her . . .

  “What the hell?” I said.

  “Just watch,” Hunter said.

  After Pepper shook out her hair, she looked around the dimly lit room before she walked over to the far left corner. There, Pepper stopped to look up at one of the cameras tucked high above her. That camera was one of three trained on the entire room. And when Pepper looked into it? She simply smiled sweetly for a moment before she went over to her closet and pulled out the plastic box, just as Hunter had told me she’d done.

  Mesmerized, I watched her walk over to Lexi’s bed with the box, turn down the bedding, then dump whatever was inside the box into the bed before she swiftly tucked the bedding in tight and then walked back over to her own bed.

  “What the hell was in that box?” I asked.

  “Like I said, I think it was a shitload of thumbtacks,” Hunter said.

  “Was it thumbtacks?” I said.

  “That’s my best guess,” Hunter said.

  “What do you two think?” I asked Stephen and John.

  “I’m not sure,” Stephen said. “I mean, after the shit that went down today, she obviously knew that we’d be watching her every move in that room tonight. And because she knew that we’d be watching her? Pepper’s a smart girl. She knows how to play a solid hand. Whatever she did was way too quick for me to see what was inside that box.”

  “John?” I said as my heart sank. “Any insight?”

  “Actually, I’m with Stephen and Hunter. Whatever Pepper tossed into Lexi’s bed look
s as if it rolled onto its sides, not unlike thumbtacks. I have a feeling that she wants Lexi to hop carelessly into bed and bite her ass a few hundred times after the shit she put Pepper’s mother through today.”

  “Stephen, can we all look at that moment again?” I asked. “I think we all need to see it again. Maybe we can somehow come to a consensus . . .”

  He reran it several times for me, but given the dim lighting and how swiftly Pepper had acted, none of us could come to any conclusions about what she’d tossed into Lexi’s bed, which worried me. Why would she need a plastic box to carry thumbtacks? It didn’t make sense to me. But since I couldn’t be sure, all of it would have to remain a mystery until we knew for sure what Pepper had chucked into Lexi’s bed.

  “Let’s go to the present,” I said.

  With a mere push of a button, Stephen zipped forward in time. Now, what we saw was Pepper sitting back on the edge of her bed. At some point, she’d changed out of her clothes and into a pretty pink satin nightgown—and in her hand was her iPhone.

  Why is she just sitting there holding on to her iPhone—and doing nothing with it? And why is her screen lit? What the hell does she have up her sleeve . . . ?

  Watching her, I thought that she was behaving like a spider waiting quietly for its prey, which of course she was. And so again, I had to wonder—what kind of fresh hell was Lexi about to face for choosing to publicly burn Pepper’s mother this morning? Would Pepper’s response simply be several dozen thumbtacks? Oh, hell, no, because after all this time, I’d come to know that girl.

  So, what could it be? What was I missing here? Because I knew it had to be big. Hell, I could feel in my gut that whatever this was would be a game changer when it came to those two. And if Pepper succeeded in pulling off whatever she was about to do to Lexi? I already knew that it was going to be far worse than what any of us could collectively imagine.

  Because that’s just who you are, I thought as I watched Pepper turn out the lights as she got into her bed and slipped beneath the sheets. How far have you gone? What haven’t we seen? Oh, hell, God, if you’re listening to me now? Please don’t let Pepper have gone too far . . .