Typecast

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Typecast Page 22

by Kim Carmichael


  “I need a lot of things, but I did want to tell you that Brian made your deposit. I added extra for the anniversary gala.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.” After the whole spectacle was over, he wanted to work on ending their connected lives completely.

  “Yes, I did. I ruined your career.”

  With her years of acting experience, he wasn’t sure if the break he heard in her voice was real or not. “Guess we’ll never know.”

  “How’s the bar?”

  “The opening is in two days. Why don’t you see for yourself?” He almost laughed. Erin would never show, especially with Ivy in his life.

  “You don’t need a date, but I’ll see. Good-bye.”

  “Thank you for calling.” Rather than making the phone call mysterious, he decided to treat it as any sort of work. “Well, I got that out of the way. That was one of my funding sources.” No lie in his statement. He was on a roll.

  “Funding?” Ivy lifted his fork and aimed it toward his mouth.

  “Yes.” He barely got the word out before she fed him. Using every ounce of strength, he swallowed.

  “What kind of funding?” She curled up next to him in the booth. Booths were so much better than tables.

  Finally, they would get to the work. For two days, he had practiced how to explain without any untruth. “Look here.” He pointed to his computer screen, mostly to direct her to the amount of money he had. He never wanted her worrying about him not being able to provide. “Many years ago, I ended up with a settlement that is paid to me monthly.”

  “Were you in a lawsuit?”

  At not having rehearsed that answer, he ground his teeth together. “No.”

  “So how did you end up with a settlement?”

  His phone chimed off, saving him. He held up a finger and answered. “Logan Alexander.”

  “Ryder Scott.” He chuckled. “I think I would make a better voice-over artist than you.”

  “Good to know.” Logan put his elbow on the table and rested his forehead in his hand.

  “I just got off the phone with Erin, and it reminded me to tell you I made your deposit,” Ryder told him. “I also have a list of media that’s been hounding me, Mr. Mouthpiece.”

  “Fine. Send it to me and I’ll deal with it.” Logan wondered which one of Ryder’s women would make the deposit for him this month.

  “Seems as if the interviews with Ivy opened the door up to everyone thinking we could talk. Questions about our missing fourth is making louder than normal waves. I think he’s doing it as a publicity stunt, and if that’s the case, the time to come out is now where he would make the most of it.”

  Everything in Ryder’s life barreled down to dollars and cents, but how could Logan judge. His did as well . . . until Ivy. “Leave it be. You know the drill.”

  “I’m not bound by any contract from talking about it with you,” Ryder huffed into the phone. “Watch Ivy. The paparazzi is hot for her, especially after that story in the National Reporter. Careful at the opening.”

  Instinct caused him to wrap his arm around her. No one would get near her on his watch again. “I have to go. Thanks for the update.” He tossed his phone across the table. “Busy morning.”

  “I’ve never heard your phone ring so much.”

  “I prefer it being just you and me.” Of all the things he said thus far, that sentence was the most true.

  “You were explaining how you ended up with the settlement.” She tilted her head up at him.

  Along with everything else he needed to remember, he could never forget Ivy’s intelligence. A scholar at heart, her mind remained focused on every last detail.

  However, he was an actor, taught to improvise and make due even if he didn’t have the lines. When in doubt, the best way to get through a situation was to buy time by using a prop. He grabbed one of the strips of bacon and shoved it into his mouth. The petrified pork crumbled and the flavor of “burned and salt” replaced “burned and sweet.” By only a miracle, he managed to chew and swallow. “Payback for a long-term loan and it compounded over time.” He wasn’t sure if he’d lied or not, since he didn’t even understand what he’d said.

  She nodded.

  “Anyway, enough of this. Long story short, over time I invested the money and it grew. So today I wanted to check the numbers, and I thought later we could go take a drive and look at a couple of properties and have lunch out.” If the thought of eating ever appealed to him again.

  “I would love that.”

  “My work this morning entails researching the area and the opportunities.” Between the bacon, the French toast, and the phone calls, his palate needed to be cleansed. He reached for the coffee and took a sip. “Oh my God.” The taste bore right through him.

  “What’s wrong?” Ivy straightened up.

  “I didn’t know coffee had a texture.” Without spilling or dying, he managed to get the cup back on the table.

  “You like your coffee strong.” She winced. “Is it too strong?”

  “Baby.” It was time to face the truth and her head-on. “This coffee just took me out.”

  She put her hand over her eyes. “I’m not a good cook.”

  “No, you are not.” Gently, he moved her hand away. “But lucky for us, I am.”

  “But—”

  He cut her off by putting his finger over her lips. “I would eat your cooking every meal, every day if it meant keeping you happy.”

  “I don’t really enjoy cooking.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I just wanted to do it for you.”

  “You do enough.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Just being with you is enough.” At his admission, his true admission, he also knew his true feelings.

  “Logan.” She brushed her lips over his and moved over to his jaw and ear. “I’m so hungry.”

  “How about I make breakfast?”

  “Okay, how about I play assistant and research where we’re going today?”

  He pulled back and took her all in, something he found himself doing quite often. “That sounds like a deal. I really hate working on the computer.”

  “I love it.” She gave him a huge grin.

  “Then we’re a perfect match.” Before retreating to the kitchen, he set her up on his computer. In truth, he rarely used the thing, preferring to keep all his personal information on his phone.

  “I didn’t realize all about your job.” She typed away on the computer.

  In truth, no, she didn’t realize about his job. The investments served as a distraction to his babysitting role, one he didn’t audition for or covet. But now his past was on a straight collision course with his future, and he didn’t want any casualties.

  HOLLYWOOD STARDUST

  CUT TO:

  INT. STEVEN’S GRANDPARENTS’ HOUSE — FLAGSTAFF AZ. — NIGHT

  All four, plus the grandparents, are sitting at the dinner table enjoying a home-cooked meal and the feeling of home.

  STEVEN’S GRANDMOTHER

  I think this adventure is good for you.

  CHARLES

  You do?

  CHARLES shakes his head.

  WILLIAM, ROXY, and STEVEN look up from their plates.

  STEVEN’S GRANDMOTHER

  I do. It’s part of growing up.

  With a bowl of mashed potatoes in her hand, GRANDMOTHER stands up and makes her way around the table, stopping first at CHARLES.

  STEVEN’S GRANDMOTHER

  You will live if you ever get a B on a test, and you’ll be better for it.

  GRANDMOTHER doles out a spoonful of potatoes and moves on.

  WILLIAM leans back to allow her to serve him.

  STEVEN’S GRANDMOTHER

  I think you’re finding that not everything in life can be solved with a smile.

  GRANDMOTHER pats WILLIAM’S shoulder, gives him another serving, and continues on.

  ROXY puts her hand over her plate.

  GRANDMOTHER moves ROXY’S h
and away.

  STEVEN’S GRANDMOTHER

  One day you will regret the serving of mashed potatoes you didn’t take. Make sure you always look at all your opportunities.

  ROXY smiles at the pile of potatoes on her plate.

  STEVEN pushes his plate over.

  STEVEN

  What about me, fortune-teller?

  GRANDMOTHER leans down.

  STEVEN’S GRANDMOTHER

  First, never assume.

  GRANDMOTHER squeezes his cheek.

  STEVEN’S GRANDMOTHER

  Second, always take the opportunity to tell someone how you really feel, not how you think you should feel, but what’s in your heart.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ivy made her way down the stairs and peeked out at Wilson’s bar. The low mumblings of the freshly minted wait staff and the clinks of glasses and dishes over the light jazz music in the background all made the establishment come alive. For the last few days, the place had buzzed with activity and it finally all came together. The retro speakeasy was completely on trend.

  Though they had all tried to keep the vandalism out of the media, both she and Logan knew no matter how fast they dealt with it, the story would leak. They had taken to their own show to discuss the situation. In a twist that had warmed her heart, they’d received an outpouring of support from their fans, or as Logan called them, her fans. Either way, after the opening for the VIPs, the reservation list was positively packed. Still, she had her objective. Somehow she needed to figure out the mystery that was her man.

  Once spying Wilson, she headed toward the bar. A couple of servers stopped to let her go by, making her feel more like a princess than the investor’s girlfriend.

  “Can I help with anything?” As of yet, she had never gotten the chance to talk to him alone.

  He gave her a slow shake of his head. “Not looking like that.”

  “Do you like it?” She glanced down at the 1950s form-hugging black satin strapless gown. After three different tries, she had finally found the right bra to give her cleavage the vavoom she wanted.

  “Every man likes that dress, trust me. How about while we wait for our other halves I make you a drink to match your outfit?” Like any good barkeep, he lifted a glass and held it up to the light. “Plus, I have a question for you.”

  While not normally a drinker, she nodded and perched at one of the barstools. “I may have an answer for you.”

  He opened a bottle of champagne. “How did you sneak away from my brother?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Once more she glanced over her shoulder. Logan didn’t lie when he said being away from her wasn’t working and decided it would be much more efficient to do everything together. Not that she minded in the slightest, but it was making her research extremely inefficient. After being with him for a full day of his work, she knew something wasn’t right, but her instinct said he wasn’t trying to hide as much as he was trying to protect her, especially since he didn’t seem to want to let her out of his sight. “He takes longer to get ready than I do.”

  “It’s the hair.” With a little bit of flourish, he dipped a sugar cube in some liquid and put it at the bottom of a champagne flute and poured in some cognac. “Also, he’s probably trying to look pretty for you.”

  “I’m glad he decided he wasn’t going to cook tonight.” However, she had been privy to watching Logan train the chef and staff as if they were going to be defending the country. The man was sexy when he was stern. Hell, the man was sexy when he wasn’t stern. He was just sexy.

  “One champagne cocktail for the lady.” Wilson topped his concoction off with the champagne, put a black napkin on the bar, and presented her with the drink. “Between you and me, I think I may have lost my special guest chef.”

  “What makes you say that?” The bubbles trailed up from the sugar cube in a little line, their goal to reach the top of the glass. Like the bubbles, she had her goal. She smiled, tilted the drink in his direction, and took a sip. A bit of sweet and a bit of tart.

  “I think he likes his new career with a special lady in a slinky dress much better.”

  “You mean the show?” She took another sip of the drink.

  “Just you.” Wilson wiped down the bar.

  “What did he do after the movie wrapped?”

  He shrugged. “Some bit parts, then he just did what he always did, but whenever Stardust bubbles up to the surface, his job is to be the mouthpiece for the rest of them.”

  Never an actress, she tried to be nonchalant and ran her finger along the rim of the glass, but her mind skidded to a halt and replayed Wilson’s statement. Why didn’t this occur to her before? When she had scored the first interview with Ryder and Erin, she had assumed they didn’t want to speak, but Logan coordinating everything had been deliberate. Maybe a paid position? Why?

  “Hey!” From the back, Isaac entered, waived, and joined them. He handed Wilson a bottle of extremely expensive wine. “I’m not sure what you get a bar owner, but congratulations.”

  The men shook hands.

  “I better get everyone in position to open the doors and find my woman.” Wilson gave them a thumbs-up and walked away.

  Isaac turned to her. “So, are we at the shy smile, handshake, or hug stage in our relationship?”

  “Relationship?” She took her time to study the man. Last time they had met, she’d barely noticed anyone was in the room but Logan. Unlike her bad boy, Isaac was the perfect representation of a clean-cut professional. He was more likely to be Matt’s best friend rather than Logan’s with his tailored pants and white button-down and his brown hair neatly parted and combed off to one side. Isaac could blend in anywhere—put him in a suit, he would be a banker or a lawyer, or give him a white coat, the owner of a laboratory.

  “The relationship between the friend and the girlfriend is extremely important.” He put his hand to his chin. “If we don’t start off right, I could be kicked to the curb in a second.”

  “No way, both our names start with I. That binds us.” She held her arms out.

  “Excellent deduction.” He gave her a hug. “And may I say you look quite lovely?”

  “I will take your compliment and return it.” Though she had only met him one other time, he felt like an old friend. Like she knew him before.

  “Well, it took me a while to get my hair and outfit just so, but it came together.” He leaned on the bar. “Of course, nothing compares to your Mr. Alexander trying to get ready.”

  At realizing another opportunity, she polished off her drink. Suddenly, her whole world felt like it was leading toward the truth. Everyone was suspect. “Did he always take this long when the two of you would go out?”

  “We tried it a couple of times, but we are not each other’s types.” Isaac laughed. “Actually, we don’t really go out where we have to get ready. He doesn’t like going out that much. It’s a pain.”

  Fine, fair answer. She needed to dig deeper. How did Logan Alexander, the actor and investor, become involved with Isaac, the chemist? “Did you know him before he was a pain?”

  He opened his mouth but paused, a slight yet noticeable break in the rhythm of the conversation. “Logan has always been a pain.”

  Of course, there was always the possibility she wanted to read too much into his actions. She tried one of Logan’s tricks. “So the movie didn’t change him much at all.”

  “I met him right before he started filming, but I think he has mellowed over the years.” Rather than staying in his relaxed pose, he moved closer and leaned in. “I have to say that of anyone I met from the film, he was the true actor, the one who cared about the craft and telling the story.”

  The passion in Isaac’s voice made her eyes well up. Still, Logan had never seen the movie all the way through until her. Maybe it was somehow too painful?

  “However, that wasn’t your question. You wanted to know what happened when we would go out, as in searching for women. And only to show my loyalty to you, I will let you in
on the secret.” Without her prodding, he continued. “We both rarely went into that scene. He hated the whole game of it and thought women only wanted him to say they scored with a star, and I was too much of a Poindexter to get anywhere without him.”

  Poindexter. His word choice reverberated through her like when someone hit her funny bone. A unique term for the geek or nerd, one not used often, but one used in Hollywood Stardust. She stared into his eyes. His expression didn’t change, but something was there, deeper.

  “Not that anything we talked about matters. Your date is here.” He lifted his chin.

  Instinct caused her to turn, and her breath caught.

  How, where, and why did the man coming their way end up with her? Dressed in dark pants, a gray shirt, a tie, and a vest, and his hair pulled back with one naughty lock hanging down, only Logan Alexander could pull off such a look.

  Like the superstar he should have been, his mere presence owned the room.

  He kept his focus on her, but slowly sauntered across the room. By the time he reached her, trembles had taken over her body.

  “Gorgeous.” He held out his hand.

  “You are.” Grateful for the support, she put her hand in his and managed to get off the barstool without falling over.

  He shook his head and held her arm out. “When I’m with you, I don’t need anyone else’s company, but damn if I’m not proud to show you off tonight.”

  Unable to help herself, she closed the small gap between them and kissed him.

  His lips caressed hers, and he smiled. “I taste we already sampled the bar?”

  “Just a champagne cocktail.” She wiped a bit of lipstick off his lower lip.

  “I don’t want you to leave my side.”

  Funny, she wanted to say the same thing to him. “I won’t.”

  “Good, because that’s where you belong.” He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek.

  “Logan.” She tilted her face up to him.

  “Excuse me!” Isaac came over and put his arms around both of them.

  “What do you want?” Still, Logan didn’t take his eyes of her.

 

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