Typecast

by Kim Carmichael

  “And last night.” Giselle giggled through her words.

  Logan turned to his brother. “Is nothing sacred? You already defiled the nuts.”

  “Gee, I’m sorry. Gorgeous blonde with big boobs gets left here, we hit it off, and I’m not supposed to be with her?” Wilson motioned toward her. “To date, you have defiled Ivy’s grandfather’s home, your car, and the BMW because you knew Ivy wanted to make love in that car.”

  “They also did it in both our kitchens—at the apartment and the one here because Logan wanted to compare and contrast appliances.” With a huge grin, Giselle nodded.

  Silence took over the room, and they all looked at each other.

  “For the record, the appliances here are better.” Logan took his seat on the other side of her.

  “That’s because you picked them.” The laugh Ivy held back before came to the surface.

  They all cracked up. The language of couples was unique unto itself, a special bond. Did she have it with Logan? For how long? What happened after Wilson’s opening? Her chest tightened.

  “Are you okay?” Logan grabbed her hand.

  His touch jolted her out of a mini panic attack. “Yes.”

  “The way the color left your face tells me different.” Taking her chin in his hand, he turned her toward him. “This is nothing to be nervous over.”

  She stared at his face. How on earth did anyone end up looking like him?

  “I think it’s time we start our lesson, but before that, there is something I must do.” He leaned in and kissed her hard, opening his mouth and really giving her a good one.

  In an instant, her mind hazed, and all her attention diverted to Logan’s lips and what they did.

  He pulled back and smiled, a little starburst practically flashing on his perfect teeth. “Now that you are focused, there are five rules to interviewing someone on camera.”

  Focused? If he meant focused on how bad she wanted him, she was a laser beam. “Five rules.”

  With his thumb, he wiped her lower lip. “Yes. Now, when you approach an interview with a celebrity, or someone who thinks they are a celebrity, they are not your ally. You’re not playing for the same team. You have to keep your eyes and ears open for their tactics so you know how to proceed. Watch as I demonstrate.”

  They both sat up in their chairs, and he turned to Giselle. “Erin, on the set of your last movie, I was told you got in a fight with your leading man costar.”

  Giselle twisted to look behind her. “Erin’s here?”

  “Sweetheart, you were Erin.” Wilson waved his hand.

  “Oh, yeah.” Giselle twisted back around. “Well, I’m a bitch, so of course I was in a fight.”

  Logan held his hand up to her. “Take a break and let me work with Ivy.” He huffed. “I will interview you. Ivy, when you used to hang my posters on your wall, did you ever think about what would happen if we actually met?”

  Her cheeks heated. “Logan, I was twelve.”

  “Were you always a fan of Hollywood Stardust?” He tilted his head.

  “Since the day Giselle and I saw it in the theater.” She nodded. “We stayed and saw it a second time.”

  Giselle clapped. “We hid so they didn’t kick us out of the theater.”

  “You naughty girl.” He moved his hair out of his eyes. “So, of all the stars, who was your favorite?”

  “I was a sucker for the bad boy.” Where was this going? “I suppose one could say that now I’m sleeping with him.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Did you ever think you’d be doing that when you would gaze longingly at my posters on your wall?”

  She opened her mouth, but had nothing to say.

  “Oh my God, you answered anyway!” Giselle moved her chair closer.

  “Lesson. You have nothing to be afraid of if you keep the tone conversational and ask the questions naturally. I used two techniques there. First, I redirected you into talking about what I wanted you to talk about. Second, I prodded you until I got the answer.” He lifted his chin.

  Redirect and prod. She nodded.

  “Wilson, move the camera so Ivy can see it.” Logan motioned behind him, and Wilson moved the tripod.

  She faced her tormentor, the lensed demon.

  “Unless you are directed to break the fourth wall, never look at the camera. Look at the person you are interviewing. In the case of reporting, pretend that lens is an eye.” He leaned in. “You’re one of the smartest and strongest women I know, if not the smartest and the strongest. I’ve watched you fight for what you want and win. That camera has nothing on you. You stare it down and make it your bitch. Do you understand me?”

  His words wrapped around her, enveloping her in strength. No one ever explained it that way. They simply told her not to be scared.

  “Pretend the camera is Erin,” Giselle whispered.

  “Ivy, you have an interesting background. While you were growing up, how did you handle being Curtis Raleigh’s granddaughter?” Logan went on with his interview.

  Wilson slid the camera closer.

  She peeked over at it and back to Logan.

  “Everyone wants to know what you have to say. They wouldn’t have tuned in otherwise.” Logan sat back.

  “It’s weird because so many people watched his movies and identify with his characters and they feel like they know him so they come at you with preconceived notions.” She had wondered when he was going to ask about her grandfather, but if anyone understood, it would be Logan. “Even though I never met him, I always felt his presence, but still . . .”

  “It always felt like something was missing?”

  “Yes. I felt cheated.”

  Rather than prodding her, he sat and waited.

  “I think that’s why my mother went the stage route. She wanted to be connected to him, but a little distant. I think my wanting to go in film was my way of being closer to him.” She shrugged.

  “Maybe then part of the stage fright is fear of failing him.”

  Pressure built behind her eyes, and she looked down at her lap.

  “I think no matter what, he would have been really proud of you.” Logan leaned in, took her hand, and kissed it.

  Giselle sniffed. “That was the best interview ever.”

  Interview. Right, they were play-acting.

  “Ivy.” Logan lowered his voice. “Are you all right?”

  Still digesting her revelation about her grandfather, she nodded.

  With her hand in his, he led her over to the bar and got her some club soda, even bothering to put a lemon wedge on the edge of the glass. “I didn’t expect the interview to go quite that deep, but along with learning about the magnificent woman in front of me, I wanted to teach you about getting to your subject’s soft side, asking direct questions, and even using silence to get your guest to continue talking.”

  “I think I needed it. In all these years, I never thought about my grandfather that way.” She took a sip of the bubbling water she had come to like quite a bit. Logan seemed to use it as an elixir anytime things got rough. “Why is this your go-to drink?”

  He retrieved a glass for himself and took a drink. “You don’t find it refreshing?”

  “It’s not that. It’s just an odd choice. Did you always drink it?” The liquid did serve to cool her down. She plucked the lemon wedge off her glass and dropped it in Logan’s.

  “My mother always gave it to me to settle my stomach.” With a tilt of his head, he lifted the glass.

  She watched him watch the bubbles.

  “When my mother was sick, I used to bring it to her.” After a pause, he put the glass down.

  They stared at each other.

  “You are a quick study, my dear.” He gave her a wink.

  Well, they both seemed to open up today. She tapped her glass against his. “To your mother and my grandfather, something tells me they are both proud.”

  “Come here.” He leaned over the bar and kissed her. “I think I need to call Ryder,
and I also wanted to ask you to come here for lunch tomorrow and meet my friend Isaac.”

  “I would love that. Is there a reason?” Her lips grazed his as she spoke, and the tightness in her chest lifted. At least she knew who he had spoken to at the studio, and meeting the friend was a definite milestone.

  “I just want to show you off.” He treated her to another kiss.

  If only this could be the first of many milestones.

  HOLLYWOOD STARDUST

  DISSOLVE TO:

  INT. CAR — AMARILLO, TEXAS – DAY

  They are driving, trying to make up some time. CHARLES and ROXY are asleep in the backseat.

  STEVEN hits WILLIAM’S shoulder.

  STEVEN

  The check engine light just came on.

  WILLIAM

  I think we should check the engine.

  STEVEN pulls car to the side of the road.

  STEVEN

  Sometimes, I think you’re as smart as Chuck.

  CUT TO:

  EXT. CAR - DAY

  STEVEN and WILLIAM get out of the car. STEVEN opens the hood and steam erupts from the engine. They both jump back.

  WILLIAM

  The car is overheating.

  STEVEN rubs his hand over his face.

  STEVEN

  I hate this trip! Nothing ever goes as planned!

  STEVEN kicks the fender.

  The door to the car opens and ROXY steps out and stretches.

  ROXY

  Is everything okay?

  WILLIAM rushes over to her.

  WILLIAM

  Totally fine. We are just having a minor car mishap.

  STEVEN

  Don’t lie to her!

  STEVEN kicks the car once more and joins them.

  STEVEN

  There’s no need to sugarcoat this because she’s Roxy and she’s fragile.

  STEVEN stares ROXY down.

  STEVEN

  We are stuck in the middle of nowhere with an overheated car and no help in sight.

  ROXY reaches up and presses her hand to STEVEN’S cheek.

  ROXY

  Thank you.

  STEVEN

  (Relieved.)

  For what?

  ROXY

  Not lying.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Ivy’s favorite is raspberry, and she has a little bit of a sweet tooth.” Logan topped his sorbet with fresh raspberries and a mint leaf and put the filled glasses back in the freezer. “Also, I noticed she doesn’t like raw tomatoes, so I didn’t put any in the salad.”

  “How did you notice that?” Isaac reached for a raspberry.

  “Notice what?” Logan swiped his dish of berries away from his friend. He meant to put them up in his place later and feed them to her. They hadn’t christened his bed yet.

  “Tomatoes and her lack of like.”

  “Well, at her parents’, she put them on the edge of her plate, and when we stopped for dinner on our way back, she left them untouched. Then yesterday at lunch she pierced the tomato wedge and put it on my salad.” A warm feeling encompassed him, the same one he got when his sheets were freshly dried on a cold night. Little things like knowing about the tomatoes built a connection to the other person.

  “So you are at the point in your relationship where you share vegetables?” Isaac asked.

  He went to the oven and checked his chicken. “She doesn’t care for extra things on her plate. The tomato, the lemon, the parsley, the piece of kale. When we went out to get some groceries after . . .” He stopped talking and let his brain catch up to his mouth. After their lessons, they went back to her apartment and decided the drugstore items definitely needed further investigation. “Because we were starving. We got some iced tea, and she dropped her lemon slice into my drink, and she did the same thing when I tried to give her some with her club soda.”

  “Oh, I get it, you are the human garnish disposal.” His friend burst out into a round of laughter.

  Once he dubbed the chicken perfect, he turned down the heat, crossed his arms, and faced Isaac. “Well, I guess I’ll suffer since no one ever lasted long enough to give me their garnish before.”

  The smile faded from Isaac’s face. “I know. No one ever lasted long enough to have you want to show off before.”

  “I know I sort of sprang this meeting on you.” He went to the refrigerator and grabbed some small grape tomatoes. “You cool with this?”

  “I look at it this way.” Isaac gave him a thumbs-up. “With her background and standing next to you, if she doesn’t connect who I am, I know I passed the test.”

  “What if she puts the dots together?” He put some tomatoes on the salad.

  “I think if you care enough for her that you are putting those tomatoes on so she gives them to you, she would be the type of person I could explain my situation to.” Isaac plucked one of the tomatoes off the salad and popped it in his mouth.

  “I agree.” He nodded. Though given the task of finding out about Drew and the sequel, something told him if he asked her to keep certain things private, she would. They were a couple.

  A couple.

  At the thought, he stared straight ahead, only to be jostled by a knock at the back door. “I should get her a key.” He sprinted over and opened the door.

  The afternoon sun backlit the other half of his couple. “My lady.” He took her hand and guided her inside. The sweet coral-colored circa 1950s dress with a flared skirt fit her figure to perfection. “You look lovely.”

  “So do you.” She giggled.

  Not wanting to make the same mistake as yesterday at her office, and needing to taste her coral-colored lipstick, he bent down and gave her a bit more than a peck. “Delicious.” He straightened up and motioned toward Isaac. “Ivy, I would like you to meet one of my closest friends, Isaac Abrams. Isaac, this is Ivy.”

  Isaac held his hand out. “Apparently, in order to hang with Logan, your name has to start with I.”

  In search of any reaction, he kept his focus on Ivy and held his breath.

  “Then thank God my parents didn’t go with Wisteria or Hydrangea.” She flashed Isaac a smile and shook his hand.

  Both she and Isaac laughed.

  He exhaled, pulled out the stools from underneath the kitchen island, and returned to the stove. “Well, the two of you get the chef’s table for lunch, so have yourselves a seat while I get the food.”

  “Let me help.” Ivy came up behind him.

  Help? No one ever offered. Most anyone he cooked for sat while he served, but together they got his meal on the table and it was a welcome change of pace.

  At last, they joined Isaac.

  “So you and Logan are tearing it up online.” Isaac dug into his food.

  “Maybe just a little ripping.” Ivy picked the grape tomatoes off her salad and, without a word or permission, snuck them onto his plate.

  He swallowed, the whole action riling him up a bit, and he couldn’t stop from staring at her profile.

  Isaac coughed to cover a laugh. “What’s the most interesting thing you’ve done so far?”

  “I loved taking a ride in Logan’s car and going to see the movie with him.” She quickly glanced at him and then back to her plate, eyeing her next victim, the grilled green onion he put near her chicken. “Are you a fan of the film?”

  Logan noted she didn’t mention meeting Erin, but then again she thought the woman was a bitch, and he wondered what she would think of Ryder later this week. Either way, he had to wonder what she would think if she knew she was having lunch with the elusive Drew Fulton.

  He tore his gaze away from Ivy long enough to glance at Isaac. They rarely spoke about the film. It wasn’t the best time for his long lost costar.

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen it, but I’ll say it was interesting.” His friend lifted the onion on his plate. “Didn’t you study the film for your degree?”

  He returned his attention to Ivy.

  “I finished my master’s th
esis on films that changed their generation.” She scooped the onion up on her fork.

  He held his breath.

  “You never wanted to go on and get your doctorate degree?” Isaac asked.

  With her fork in midair, she answered. “I thought about going on, but I wanted to work in the industry.”

  “Well, I predict that soon all entertainment will be on the Internet.” Isaac nodded.

  “That’s the forecast.” In one smooth move, she smuggled the onion over to his plate.

  “Look!” Logan yelled.

  “Logan!” She dropped her fork. “What?”

  “I’m sorry.” Not meaning to scare her, he caught her hand.

  Isaac cracked up.

  “What’s wrong?” With wide eyes, she looked at him.

  “Ivy.” He took her other hand. “I need to tell you something.”

  “What is it?” She furrowed her brow. “Logan?”

  He leaned in to her ear. “I like the way you put your garnishes on my plate.”

  “Are you talking about sex?” she whispered.

  Isaac stood from the table and bent over in a round of silent laughter.

  “Not quite. I’m talking about your tomato and your onion.”

  “Maybe we should save this conversation for later, then we can experiment.” Her voice lowered even further.

  Well, at least she was up for experimentation. “I was talking about food and the way you put your tomato and your onion on my plate.”

  “You like that?”

  Isaac straightened up and returned to his seat.

  “Yeah, only couples do that.”

  “Oh.” A smile took over her face, outshining her already reddened cheeks, and she returned to her plate but scooted her seat a little closer to him. “Does that mean you would rather me not give my garnishes to anyone else?” Without skipping a beat, she took a bite of her meal.

  The direct question. He had to give it to her for heeding his lessons and going for what she wanted. “I think we should only share our dishes between us. Does that sound all right?”

  “Especially since your cooking is so delicious.” She tilted her head and peeked over at him.