Typecast

by Kim Carmichael

  She swallowed. At the moment, she was certain someone coated her throat with sandpaper. “You have to understand.”

  “Tell me!” He pounded his fist into the ground. “Tell me now. Tell me everything.”

  “I was upset when you left for the meeting with Ryder and Erin without me. I guess I was jealous.” His expression didn’t change, and she looked down at the blanket, tracing her nail over the plaid pattern, and forced herself to continue. “I was sitting there stewing and took out the card Erin gave me with her Chargge.com e-mail. Then I started fooling around, and by accident, I hacked into her account.”

  “By accident you broke into Erin Holland’s account?” he hissed the question at her. “There are some who say there are no accidents.”

  “Her password is Hollywood Stardust.” In an attempt to hold the tears back, she shut her eyes. “I know you took the blame for the drugs that night. I know they wanted out of the sequel, and you made it easy for them. I know you lost a part you wanted, and I know that for all these years those two fools paid you off.”

  When he didn’t speak, she opened her eyes and peeked up at him.

  He glared at her, narrowed eyes, set jaw, pale complexion included.

  In all the times they had bickered, even in their fight when she’d said she was relieved about the drugs, he had never glared at her.

  “I knew you were never the true villain. I could feel it in my heart.” She pressed her hand to her chest. “I knew it, and the world can know as well.”

  “Are you that blind? Don’t you think there was a reason I never told you?” He scratched his hands through his hair. “No matter how bad you want me to be, I’m not a hero. I am the one who orchestrated that night. I am the one who extorted money from them.”

  “What?” She shook her head.

  “Yes!” He stood up, towering over her. “I walked in that night to beg them to do the sequel and caught them in the act of not only screwing each other, but also doing drugs. We got in a fight, and the police were called. I was seventeen and knew I could manipulate them.”

  “Logan.” Somehow she managed to get on her feet and reached out for him.

  He swiped her hand away. “I took the blame, I got the sequel canceled, and I made sure they would never do another project without thinking about how I helped them. The script I wanted to share with you, the ring I bought thinking we were going to spend the rest of our lives together, even the land I was going to have our house built on, was all bought and paid for with money I made from them.”

  Wanted? Thinking? Was going? Why was everything suddenly past tense? “What are you saying?”

  “I asked you one thing. I asked you not to pry. I begged you to leave it alone. I have contracts that now by telling you, I have broken. I could lose everything because you were bound and determined to not fall in love with the bad guy.” He held his hands up. “What were you going to do? Prove your point and broadcast it to the world?”

  “Not if you didn’t want me to.” Her tears fell freely. “I just thought—”

  “Thought you were helping me.” He finished her sentence. “Honey, I have news for you, I’m as bad as they come. I thought I could change, but instead I changed you. Now you’re a villain too. You better keep your mouth shut. Breaking into someone else’s e-mail is illegal.”

  “If you want to write up a contract, I’ll sign it.” She crossed her arms. “Did you really expect to marry me and not tell me the truth?”

  “No, I expected to have a wife who trusted her husband.” With his head high, he walked past her.

  For a moment, she waited and simply listened to his soft footsteps echoing away from her. Did he really just leave? She spun around to find him way off in the distance. Instinct took over, and with the script still in her hands, she ran after him, catching up to him in the parking lot. “Logan?”

  He stopped at the side of his car.

  “You’re leaving?” She didn’t know why she asked the obvious question.

  “Wilson’s here. You’ll get home.” He opened the door.

  “You just asked me to marry you.” Her voice broke.

  “Can you tell me you didn’t do what you did?”

  She shook her head.

  “Keep the ring, keep the script, and keep your mouth shut.” He slipped inside his car.

  When the engine started, she shut her eyes. He couldn’t leave. He promised he would talk to her. “Please.”

  At the sound of his tires screeching on the asphalt, she opened her eyes and watched him drive away.

  Well, he didn’t lie when he told her tonight would be life changing. She would never be the same.

  HOLLYWOOD STARDUST

  CUT TO:

  INT. RESTAURANT — NEEDLES, CA – DAY

  The last pit stop before arriving at Hollywood Stardust. CHARLES is on a payphone trying to get home. ROXY, WILLIAM, and STEVEN finish up their lunch.

  WILLIAM turns to Roxy and takes her hand.

  WILLIAM

  Maybe after graduation we can come back to California and see if we can make it here.

  STEVEN

  So says every waiter and waitress in La La Land.

  STEVEN stares down at WILLIAM holding ROXY’S hand. ROXY looks between WILLIAM and STEVEN and pulls her hand away.

  WILLIAM

  Isn’t it about time he knows?

  ROXY shakes her head.

  STEVEN

  If I take your hand, would you pull away?

  STEVEN reaches across the table and holds his hand out. ROXY doesn’t move.

  WILLIAM

  Why would that even be an option?

  When no one speaks, WILLIAM hits the table.

  WILLIAM

  Roxy, I thought we were together. What happened to the other night?

  STEVEN

  You mean last night when she was in my bed?

  ROXY

  Everything is a mess.

  ROXY stands from the table and runs off.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Right before he turned onto the main street from the studio parking lot, Logan took hold of his rearview mirror and tilted it. Ivy still stood by the gates, a gorgeous statue, the wind blowing the skirt on her dress and the sunset backlighting her. He prayed that one day he could remember that image rather than his first thought of how the only woman he loved, the only woman he ever would love, looking up at him and explaining how she blatantly betrayed him in the worst possible way.

  She continued to watch him, and then lowered her head into her hands, no doubt crying. Did she honestly think any good would come of searching into things that didn’t concern her?

  “Damn everything!” If he continued to watch, he would turn the car around. But what use would it do? He could never trust her. What else would she break into? Any time things got tough, would she conduct her own investigation rather than come to him?

  Once more, he grabbed the mirror and practically tore it off the top of the car before getting her into view again.

  While she remained in the same spot, now she crouched down with her face in her hands. “Don’t go back.” He tore his phone out of his pocket, texted his brother, then finally gave in, and managed to rip the mirror off the goddamned car. No more backward glances, no more women, no more Hollywood Stardust. He threw the mirror into the passenger seat and skidded out into the street.

  Not caring if he drove off a cliff, he bobbed and weaved through the traffic, cut people off, and stopped short, finding little amusement in the honks and middle fingers thrust at him.

  At a light, he slammed on his brakes and realized he had nowhere to go. Everywhere was intertwined with her.

  The light turned green, and he sat there, even with horns blaring at him. With only one option left, he made a U-turn. Some time later, he autopiloted to Pasadena, right into Isaac’s driveway, and threw the car in park.

  As he got out of the car, Isaac opened the door, and his black Labrador, Beaker, ran to him with his ball. On any o
ther day, he would have shown up to play with the dog, but even the sight of the animal they helped rescue from the local shelter did nothing for him. He gave the dog a pat on his head and didn’t bother shutting his car door, choosing to drag himself to the doorway and to his friend.

  Isaac stepped back to let him in. “What happened to the engagement party?”

  “I think I’ll plan my funeral instead.” With an overwhelming exhaustion suddenly encompassing him, he trudged through Isaac’s perfectly designed craftsman-style home and made a beeline right to the couch.

  He stared straight ahead, wishing his mind would clear instead of replaying that horrible scene at the studio over and over again.

  Isaac joined him, and put two glasses and a decanter in front of him. He poured some of the blood red liquid into each glass and took his and sat across from him. “I take it she didn’t say no.”

  He picked up the glass, glanced inside, and downed it, wincing as the liquid hit his throat. “What is this?”

  “Port. It sounded like something a sophisticated man should drink, and it looks cool when you hold it.” As if to demonstrate, Isaac sat back, crossed his arms, and held the glass out. Beaker came and sat by his side.

  “All you need is a robe and a pipe.” He poured himself another shot of the cough medicine and gulped it down.

  “Logan.” Isaac leaned forward.

  “Let’s just be glad she never put you and Drew together.” He shook his head.

  “Continue.”

  “Somehow, she broke into Erin’s e-mail, and she knows everything.”

  “How did she break into Erin’s e-mail?” Isaac took a sip of his drink and shuddered.

  “She said she was fooling around and stumbled on her password.”

  “It’s Hollywood Stardust.” With a sneer, Isaac put the glass aside.

  After pouring and swigging down his third helping of glorified cough syrup, he faced his friend. “And you know that because?”

  “It’s Erin. She’d choose something she wouldn’t forget, but thought it was smart she didn’t choose password or one, two, three, four, five, six.”

  “Have you looked at her e-mails?” For the villain of the bunch, was he the only one who didn’t commit e-mail fraud or know Erin’s password?

  “Let me put it this way, I know exactly what Ivy found, and may I say I’m glad? Maybe you can sleep at night once you get her back in your bed.”

  “You, of anyone, should know why I can’t get her back.” Simply saying the words aloud made his stomach churn. “Do you still love Erin?”

  “I changed my identity to force myself away from her. I had you put it in your contract that she wouldn’t try to find me except through you. There isn’t a day I don’t wonder what would have happened if I could have forgiven her.” He turned away.

  “Maybe love is too toxic.” At the moment, his entire body felt as if it were cut open and someone had squeezed lemon juice on the sores.

  “Maybe you should be thankful she told you what happened. Maybe you should choose not to live your life with a huge hole where you know someone fits.”

  “She told me after the fact.” His phone vibrated, his heart seized, and he stood. “I can’t trust her.”

  “Logan. Don’t do this. Go get her. Don’t let this be her engagement day.”

  “You know what’s funny?”

  Isaac shook his head. “Nothing at the moment.”

  “After reading the e-mails, she dubbed me this great hero. I had to set her straight and let her know I was the bad guy who orchestrated the whole thing.” His phone went off once more.

  “There’s at least one other person on the planet who knows the truth, and he thinks you’re pretty cool.” Isaac shrugged. “That would be me by the way.”

  “You know, once you cook an egg, you can’t undo it. The egg’s forever changed.”

  “That doesn’t mean the egg isn’t worth something. Maybe it comes out better in the end.”

  He backed up. “Can I take the guest room? I may need to stay for a while.”

  “It’s all yours.”

  Without looking, he tossed his phone on the couch. “Will you do me a favor and make sure Wilson got her home?” For the first time since his mother had died, an unwelcome, unfamiliar, and unwanted pressure built behind his eyes, and he needed to get away from everyone.

  Isaac gave him a thumbs-up. “For the record, except for tonight, you make a lousy villain.”

  He walked toward the stairs. While he might make a lousy villain, he didn’t make a hero either, and now she could never see him that way. Not that it mattered. It was over, and he didn’t get the girl. Why was he even surprised?

  “I was engaged to Logan Alexander.” With her mother on one side, Giselle on the other, and her father across from her, Ivy stared at her laptop and looked down at her left hand. For less than two hours, her fourth finger held the most incredible, beautiful, amazing ring she had ever seen.

  Of course she didn’t need a ring, or a script, or anything else. All she wanted was Logan. The tears began again. Actually, she wasn’t sure they had ever stopped.

  “I think you should try to talk to him.” Her mother wrapped her arm around her.

  “It won’t do any good.” If nothing else, she knew that much. After Logan had driven away, she’d watched him stop in the driveway. For a fleeting moment, she’d thought he was going to back up the car and tell her he promised he wouldn’t leave, that he just needed a breath, and they could talk about what happened. However, he left, and she knew there was no hope once Wilson and Giselle came for her. She gave his brother back the ring and the script, telling him twice she never even peeked at it, and then she broke down. After two days of crying, Giselle had finally called her parents.

  “He’s not even at the bar,” Giselle whispered to her mother even though Ivy was practically sitting in her lap. “He won’t answer the phone. He won’t speak to anyone. Will called him an ass and said he would resurface once he got over it all or had something else to focus his attention on.”

  “Well, at least I provided him a distraction. Deep down in my heart, I knew it wouldn’t last, I just didn’t want to face it.” She hid her face in her hands. Her eyes ached. Her tear ducts wanted relief.

  “You can’t just leave it like this.” Her mother rubbed her back.

  Somewhere, somehow, she needed to locate her backbone. She sniffed and raised her head. “I really didn’t want to end up in a tabloid under the ‘Why is he with her?’ category.” Being with Logan relegated her to a life of always wondering what he was doing, where he was going, who he was with.

  “Ivy, don’t speak that way,” her mother chided.

  “I always thought you guys made an adorable couple.” Giselle nodded. “It was like the unexpected, but not unbelievable.”

  She turned to her friend. At least she still had an Alexander man.

  “I thought it would be cool ’cause if you married Logan and I married Wilson, we would have the same last name.”

  For fear she would throw up, Ivy put her hand over her mouth and turned back to her mother.

  “Giselle, why don’t you go get that tray of sandwiches I made? Take your time.” Her mother shook her head.

  “Okay.” Giselle hopped off the couch and walked away.

  “I can’t eat.” The thought of eating made her want to cry. “Logan cooked.” Maybe her stomach still held the contents of the turkey sandwich he’d made her before they left on their surprise expedition. He had told her he wanted to have a light lunch because he had a special dinner planned. She would never know where they were going to go, what was going to happen. Did he make the meal or were they going to go to one of his friend’s restaurants? If she could turn back the clock, she would have taken a hamburger from the local fast-food joint.

  “You’re going to make yourself sick.”

  “Listen here, young lady.” Her father stood from the side chair, took Giselle’s spot, and patted her on the kne
e. “I know this hurts. I know your heart is broken. I know right now it feels as if things are never going to be okay.”

  She really prayed her father wasn’t citing some line he spewed onstage. “Daddy.”

  “I’m not going to tell you to get over it. Healing will take time, but I think you need to face your career, decide what is important, and immerse yourself in your work.” He opened her laptop and slid it over to her lap. “Now that you have had time in front of the camera, you can finish up your gig, and I’ll help you with some other opportunities. We always knew your time at the Internet company was a jumping-off point to your dream. Didn’t Ryder Scott offer you a part? There’s a perfect place as any to start.”

  She stared straight ahead. Her sister wouldn’t have as much let her mascara run down her face before dialing Ryder’s number for some minor role. When this whole thing started, Ivy’s only dream was to be in front of the camera and follow in her family’s footsteps. Hell, she even took the job at Chargge.com just to have a chance. “I would never do that to Logan.” He might have left her, but she wouldn’t be the person who ran to Ryder. She wasn’t Erin.

  “Also, remember you got the story your boss asked you for, everything except for the information on that Drew fellow. With or without Logan, once you report that story, you can write your ticket to any broadcast news team.” Her mother glanced at her watch. “Don’t you have a deadline? You better call in.”

  “Damn story!” She shoved her laptop over to her father and stood up. Her head spun, but she made sure to stay on her own two feet. “This story ruined my life. I finally found a man I love and he loved me, and he didn’t care if I wasn’t on camera, and he didn’t care that I liked to watch the same movie over and over again, and he liked it when I would give him the parsley off my plate, and he treated me like a princess, and in return he asked for one thing!”

  “Ivy, you need to get control over yourself.” Her mother went to her.

  “No, let her emote,” her father chimed in. “It’s good for her. What did he ask for?”

  “He asked that I leave the past where he left it. He asked that I trust him. He asked that I come to him if I had questions. He said the story would be amazing without all that, and it was. The numbers were growing. We had fans.” Had she been able to give the finale of the series to Craig, they would have blown the top off the Internet. Not that it mattered, but she would have had the perfect video log of her relationship and of the most incredible proposal.