The Fame Game (Love and the City Book 3)

by Jillian Quinn

  An agent who dates her clients wouldn’t make it far in this business. No one will take me seriously if they find out we crossed the line.

  I lift the plate of nachos from the coffee table. “I have to get up early for work. I’m going to bed.”

  “Leave these.” He takes the plate from my hand and shoves a chip into his mouth, speaking between bites. “Goodnight.”

  As if nothing happened, Nico’s eyes are on the screen, devoid of emotion. He’s a talented actor, but no one is that good. How can he kiss me and then act so nonchalant?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Willow

  Today is Nico’s last day of filming. He left early this morning, not long after I got out of the shower. I punched him in the arm for good luck, and he laughed it off as if he wasn’t ready to jump out of his skin. But I saw how he anxiously fiddled with the seam of his shirt, chewing on his bottom lip.

  A golf cart zooms across the blacktop in front of me, forcing me to slam on the breaks. Liberty Productions is a nightmare at this hour, with employees rushing between buildings. Delivery vans are blocking entrances to some buildings, shielding the letters on the side.

  Nico is in Building D for the duration of the film. The Fallen is a fantasy movie filled with court intrigue and mystery. He’s playing the role of King Maslan’s assassin, all while he’s falling in love with the beautiful Queen Alora. His character has to choose his love of a woman over his position at court.

  After I drove past the building twice, I find Building D and park in the last open space. I grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder, coffee in hand as I get out of the car. Keeping my fingers crossed that Nico is doing okay, I head into the building where they are shooting the film. I move through the crowded hallways filled with assistants and employees talking loudly on cell phones and radio devices.

  I enter the set through the back door, careful not to make a sound as I slip inside and close the door behind me. The king and queen are in the middle of holding court, their loyal subjects gathered around them. Nico is on the opposite side of the room, next to one of his costars. A gorgeous blonde with long legs and big boobs that are falling out of her low-cut gown. She whispers something into his ear, and a smile stretches the corners of his mouth.

  After he kissed me, I couldn’t move or think for hours. I’m still not myself. And seeing Nico with another woman sends a sharp pain into my chest. It feels like someone punched me in the heart. I shouldn’t feel anything for my client. He’s my chance at getting my career off the ground. This is also the start of something new for Nico. So, why does my stupid heart wretch every time Maggie Coldwell leans into Nico’s muscular body, wrapping her tiny fingers around his thick bicep?

  The director sits in a chair beside the camera and yells commands. I cringe at the sound of his deep voice that booms throughout the room. No one seems fazed by his attitude, least of all the actors playing the king and queen. They nod and mutter a few words to acknowledge his instructions. Nico leans against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. Maggie flicks her hair over her shoulder, eyes on the actors moving across the throne room. My eyes burn a hole through Nico, and as if he senses me, his head snaps in my direction.

  He raises his hand, giving me one of his boyish grins that makes my stomach flip with excitement. My new client should not have this effect on me. Whatever girly feelings are brewing inside me need to go away. I wave, my expression mirroring his.

  A few minutes later, the scene playing out wraps, and the room erupts into chaos. Actors shuffled through the room, switching places as necessary. Some people grab a bite to eat, sinking into black chairs. Nico is up next. He moves to the set, a bedroom laden with purple fabric. This is the scene we rehearsed, the one where he kisses Queen Alora. Chunks rise in the back of my throat as I think about him kissing another woman.

  Why does it bother me so much?

  I hate that it does, but I can’t help feeling jealous, which is downright ridiculous.

  He’s not yours, Willow.

  No good can come from kissing my client.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Willow

  I sit across from Nico at Dolce, in a private booth in the back of the restaurant. A few people noticed Nico as we passed through the main dining room, but it’s like we’re in our own world back here. Our waitress appears with two wine glasses and a bottle of Merlot. Nico wanted to celebrate the last day of filming The Fallen with a meal at his favorite restaurant.

  Nico raises his glass, and I do the same, my smile mirroring his. “To us.”

  I tap his glass. “And to a long and successful partnership.”

  “I have a good feeling about us.”

  My heart pounds in response.

  “We work well together.”

  We order salads and the main course—steak and baked potatoes with steamed asparagus. The air between us has a palpable tension I can feel on my skin. There’s an awkwardness between us. After kissing Nico, I’m still jealous of his costar, even though their kiss meant nothing. Maybe it’s because our kiss meant something to me. I haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time, and Nico has to be my client.

  “What’s next for us?”

  Nico speaks of us like we’ve known each other for years, like we’re a couple. And I love it.

  “I put in a few calls to indie studios. Dean Patterson called me earlier to say he’s glad he took a chance on you. You’re welcome at Liberty Studios.”

  He smiles. “I think you’re my lucky charm.”

  “Just doing my job.”

  “Vinnie’s supposed to be the best in the business, and you’ve done more than him in a short time.”

  “He focuses more on big studio productions.”

  “Maybe he didn’t give a shit about my career.”

  I roll my shoulders. “Vinnie tried to get you jobs. Even Ash made calls to studios on your behalf.”

  “You must have the magic touch.”

  “I make my own luck.”

  “How did you end up in Hollywood? You don’t seem like the type.”

  I laugh at his comment. “What’s the Hollywood type?”

  “You know, vain, superficial, full of shit.”

  “Are you all of those things?”

  He shrugs against the leather bench. “When I need to be.”

  “You know how to play the game.”

  Nico nods. “Fame is a game.”

  “How did you become an actor?”

  Nico bites his cheek and turns his head away.

  “If it’s personal… you don’t have to tell me.”

  His eyes meet mine with intensity in them. “No, it’s okay. I want to tell you.” He sighs. “My mom has issues.” He speaks as if chewing on glass, his words painful. “My dad died when I was in high school, and she kind of fell apart. I became the man of the house when I was fifteen. Few people wanted to hire a kid except for Marshall Gibbons, the owner of the playhouse in town. He gave me a job cleaning after shows. After a few months of watching the actors on stage, I repeated the words. I knew the scripts verbatim.”

  “They say most people find their passion in their pain.”

  “Yeah, sounds about right. That’s how it started for me. Pain. I love acting. When I get the chance to work through more dramatic scenes, I can connect to the characters personally.”

  “Are you still close with your mom?”

  “Not as close as we were when I lived in Rochester. But, yeah, we still talk on the phone every Sunday.” He runs his hand through his black hair, pushing it off his forehead. “She will like you.”

  “Have you told her about me?”

  “She asks me about you every time we get on the phone.”

  “Does she live in LA?”

  He shakes his head. “She hates it here.”

  “Allergic to all the sunshine,” I joke.

  He laughs. “Nah, she’s a small-town woman. The city is too much for her. Plus, she won’t leave my childhood hom
e. She says it has too many memories of my dad for her to leave them behind.”

  “Who takes care of her with you living across the country?”

  “My mom’s much better now. After I paid off her house, she didn’t have to worry about money. That seemed to stabilize her erratic moods. She has a friend who lives down the street and takes her food shopping and eats dinner with her a few times a week.”

  “That’s nice. At least she has someone local.”

  Balancing a tray in her hand, the waitress sets our salads on the table in front of us, promising to check on us before she walks away. We dig into our food, the silence between us somewhat comforting. I’ve noticed this about Nico. I can sit in the same room with him for hours, watching television, or reading the newspaper without uttering a single word. He’s been a good roommate and has proven to be an enormous asset. I will miss having him around when he finds another place to live.

  Nico lifts his glass and takes a sip. “So, how did you end up at Brenton-Lake?”

  “It’s nothing glamorous,” I confess. “I needed a job, and Weston Burke was hiring an assistant. If you didn’t agree to be my client, I’m not so sure Burke would have given me a chance.”

  “Why not? You’re good at your job.”

  “Thanks.” I smile. “Burke is old school. He doesn’t believe women should be agents because we’re too emotional.”

  “He was wrong about you,” Nico shoots back.

  “Happy to prove him wrong,” I say with a wicked grin.

  “I’m glad I took a chance on you.”

  “I approached you too soon. You hadn’t had enough time to process Vinnie letting you go.”

  “Yeah, maybe. Everything seemed to fall apart at the same time. Losing my agent and my house. I promised myself I would never be broke again.”

  “You’re not broke,” I point out.

  “Not yet.” He groans. “I didn’t realize how much money I was spending every month until I talked to my accountant.”

  “It happens to a lot of stars.”

  “I didn’t appreciate the money. That’s not why I got into this business.”

  “You had the lottery winner mentality,” I quip.

  He smirks. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “You are friends with Carrie Le Blanc, right?”

  “Sure. We go way back,” he says with laughter in his tone.

  Carrie is at least a decade younger than Nico.

  “Would you talk to her? For me. Burke couldn’t convince her to switch to Brenton-Lake.”

  “Am I calling her for you or Burke?”

  “Me. We hit it off in New York, but Burke won’t let me talk to her now that she’s turned him down.”

  “Wouldn’t that be a conflict of interest?”

  “I want to sign her. And Burke wants her at Brenton-Lake.”

  “I’ll call her tomorrow,” he offers.

  The waitress takes our salad plates, replacing them with our steaks that smell incredible. The scent of garlic wafts off the steamed asparagus, and my stomach growls. She asks us to cut into our steaks to check the temperature. We slice into the meat, satisfied with the color.

  “This is the best steak I’ve ever tasted,” I say between bites.

  Nico winks. “Wait until you see what I have planned for dessert.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Nico

  After dinner, Willow cracks open a bottle of wine to celebrate our success. We’re an unstoppable team when we work together. Willow pours each of us a glass. The fruity liquid tastes amazing as it slides down my throat. I refill my glass and clink it against Willow’s. One drink leads to another, and before I know it, we’re emptying the bottle of Merlot.

  Buzzed from one glass, Willow giggles and slides off the kitchen counter. “You’re a terrible influence, Nico Chase.”

  I grab her hand as she attempts to walk away. She slips her fingers between mine and closes the distance between us. Our eyes meet, and it’s as if the world falls apart, just the two of us in our little bubble. She’s gorgeous, with those plump lips that are begging for a kiss. I drag my thumb along her bottom lip, and she sticks out her tongue.

  “You drive me wild,” I confess.

  “And you make me feel like I’m losing control.”

  Her lips crash against mine, her kisses eager as she slips her tongue into my mouth. I grab her ass in my hands, lifting her onto my rock-hard erection as she wraps her long legs around my back. She hooks her arms around my neck, threading her fingers together, neither of us coming up for air. I want to explore every part of her delicious body. Maybe I should take my time and savor this moment, make her beg me to come. But when I pull back, her kisses become more desperate and hungry.

  Lowering her to the floor, I spin her around and shove her against the wall. I spread her legs with my knee, massaging her breasts over the soft fabric of her dress, and she moans, the tiny buds pebbling from my touch. Holding her arms above her head, I pin her hands to the wall and kiss her neck. I feel like an animal released from his cage, fueled by my desire.

  She rubs her ass against my hard cock, rocking her hips until I’m in physical pain. Sliding her dress over her hips, I tug on her panties. The fabric rips on one side and slides down her leg, falling onto her black heels. Willow glances down, then kicks off her shoes, so she’s five inches shorter, small enough to tuck her head under my chin.

  Adrenaline rushes through my body, making my heart pound and my pulse race from the high she provides. All of those years of meaningless drinking and partying disappeared overnight. This beautiful woman is responsible for the man I’m becoming. Willow makes me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time. She makes me feel alive and whole, like I can do anything with her by my side.

  My hand travels up her thigh, feeling her soft skin as she spreads her legs wider. With no barriers between us, I slip my finger inside her wetness. She tilts her head back and moans, her lips parted with need.

  “Nico,” she groans. “Yes… keep doing that.”

  As I kiss along her neck, I withdraw my finger and add another, plunging them deep inside her.

  “More,” she demands.

  Adding a finger, I fuck her slick pussy. She presses her palm to the wall, holding herself in place as I slam into her. Screaming my name, she clamps down on my fingers, her body trembling as she hits the peak of her climax.

  After she comes down from her high, I spin her around and grip her hips. She leans forward to wiggle free from me and fails miserably with the vise grip I have on her. She tilts her head to the side, granting me access to her smooth skin, kissing along her jaw and neck.

  She yanks the dress over her head. I unhook her bra and slide the straps down her arms. Fumbling with the button of my slacks, I pop it open, pull down the zipper, and push my pants and boxers to the floor. I remove my clothes in record time.

  Willow slides her hand beneath my shirt, navigating every ridge of my muscles. She points at the kitchen island. I thread my fingers through her hair, kissing her hard as I push her into the counter.

  Breaking away from her lips, I lift my pants from the floor to grab a condom from my wallet. By the time I’ve rolled it down my length, Willow is already on the counter, her thighs spread so I can slip between them. Palming her breast in my hand, I massage the tiny bud as I bend down to kiss her neck.

  She reaches between us, rubbing the tip of my cock along her slick folds. I take over, wrapping my hand around my cock as I inch inside her. Her eyes widen, and she digs her teeth into her bottom lip. I push through her inner walls, and with each thrust, she moans louder.

  Once her body stops trembling, I grip her hips and slam into her. She hooks her arms around my neck with her legs around my back.

  “Nico,” she whispers when our eyes meet.

  I can see the apprehension on her face, but she dismisses the thought each time I rock my hips to meet hers. She wants this as much as I do, even though we both know our relationship complicates eve
rything. She’s not like other people in this business, and she gets me on a different level. I can talk to her and feel as if I can tell her anything. The world falls away when I’m with her, swept up in the emotions swirling through me.

  Willow unravels beneath me, her orgasm washing over her in waves. I press my lips to hers, parting them with my tongue as she moans in my mouth. It doesn’t take much to lose all control, and seconds later, I come inside her. Sweaty and still coming down from my high, I collapse on top of her, kissing Willow one more time before I slide out of her.

  “That was unexpected,” I confess.

  She nods, her chest rising and falling with each breath. “You can say that.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Willow

  Sitting behind my desk, I scroll through emails as my phone rings with a local number. I hit the intercom button and a man’s voice booms through the speaker.

  “Willow, this is Doug Cavanaugh from Firehouse Films.”

  My heart slams into my chest, forcing me to choke out a simple hello.

  “I wanted to talk to you about Nico Chase. I’ve heard good things about Nico from Dean Patterson. I’d like to work with Nico on Savages.”

  “I read the script a few months ago,” I admit. “It was one of the best I’ve read in years.”

  “Has Nico read it?”

  “I’m not sure,” I lie. “But I can get him a copy. Which role are you looking at for Nico?”

  “Erik, the leader of the Vikings.”

  My mouth falls open in shock. “I can see Nico playing Erik. I loved his character. He has so much depth that Nico can bring to the role.”

  “I agree. We film in three weeks. But we need all the actors on location ahead of time.”