by Piper Rayne
I forgot what I was like when I first came here. Everything was so new, so big, but I remember never showing fear or defeat. Never let them smell your fear.
“I know you came down here to be a screenwriter, but you became an executive producer instead. Do you know how many guys chase dreams like that and end up waiting tables their whole life? You made it in this town.”
Leo places three beers on the table, snatching one up for himself.
“So what if they fired you? Who gives a shit? It wasn’t on grounds of your job performance. It was political bullshit because you pissed off the lead actress you were banging,” Jagger chimes in.
I roll my eyes. “That move has haunted me twice now. You were right, I am an idiot.”
“This is nothing you can’t fix. Get off the couch, take a fucking shower, and win this fight.” Leo sips his beer and taps his leg for Cooper to come over to him. The dog leaves my side and sits by his owner.
“Get the girl. Live the American dream. I mean, I don’t really understand the whole monogamy thing, but you seem to like her.” Jagger looks at me with his usual ‘whatever’ attitude.
“How do I even get her to give me a chance? It’s been a month. You’ve seen the papers.”
I glance at the latest magazine with a picture of Carver and Layla at the zoo with the kids on the front—Via in Layla’s arms and Payne on Carver’s shoulders. That was a sadomasochistic purchase that led to a carton of ice cream being consumed.
Shit, I am a chick.
Jagger scoffs. “They aren’t getting back together. That was a drop-off. The paps just didn’t show the exchange. You know these guys, they’ll spin it however it suits them.” Jagger dips his head low and, unlike the magazine, his information is legit. “She has been spotted out and about though.”
I stand from the couch and nod, my mind racing with thoughts of what I can do to win her back. How can I prove to her she belongs to me?
“Don’t think. Just do,” Leo urges.
“Shower first though. Help the cause.” Jagger stands and pushes me toward the bathroom.
With the first small smattering of hope I’ve felt in four weeks, I march off to the shower, determined to figure out how to make Layla see how much she means to me.
Why does everything always come together in the shower?
I walk out of the bathroom, a towel around my waist, my two best buddies still drinking beer and watching ESPN.
“Do we have to tell you everything? Get dressed, too.” Leo laughs at his own joke.
I disregard him. “Jagger, can you get me on E or some other entertainment show to do an interview about the film?”
“Why?” He pulls out his phone, scanning through his connections.
“I have to get her attention and let her know I was sincere when I said I wanted her to do the film, so the film is off until she comes back.” I turn around and head to the bedroom.
“What?” Jagger’s booming steps follow behind. “That’s not what I meant.”
I shut the door, but he tries the knob and then knocks.
“Are you insane? You’re not supposed to give up on your dreams.”
I put on jeans and t-shirt, slip into my shoes. I rub the towel on my hair as I open the door. Jagger’s face is pale.
“You can’t do this.” I’ve never seen him panicked like this before and he’s right, it’s a crazy move, but one I need to take.
If I can’t convince her to take the starring role in my film, it isn’t happening. Finding the right fit with another actress has proven fruitless so what’s the difference?
“She’s the perfect fit and if I can’t have her, then I’ll write a new script for a new actress.”
Leo’s staring blankly at me. “Even I’m not in agreement here. She’s still just a girl, Vance. You can’t set your dream aside for her.”
“I’m not, because the film would suck if she doesn’t do it.”
“I’m still in talks with two Academy Award-winning actresses. One is very interested and talked about maybe taking a pay cut to do it.” Jagger presses a button on his phone. “Victoria. I need you to call all the late-night shows, see if they have any cancelled spots this week.” He’s about to hang up and then brings the phone back to his ear. “Thanks.”
“No other actresses. Only Layla.”
“I think he’s in sugar shock or something.” Leo touches my forehead. “He’s gone from no fight to MacGregor in the time it took to have a shower.”
Jagger crosses his arms, his phone resting in his hand, waiting for a return call. “I like it. Ballsy and just what you would have done when you came here ten years ago. Now, if she still doesn’t take you back, your ass better write a script fast. There’s no room at the stabbin’ cabin for a deadbeat without a job.” He smiles.
Leo shakes his head. “You don’t actually call your place that in front of the women you take home, do you?”
Jagger shrugs. “Depends what they’re into.”
His phone rings and then he walks down my hallway.
“You love her?” Leo asks, a solemn expression I can’t explain on his face.
“I do.” God, it feels good to finally admit it out loud. Not as scary as I thought.
He nods once and then stuffs his hands in his pocket. “Then you’re doing the right thing. Better to have the entire cake than just a slice, right?”
“Yeah.”
Jagger walks back to us. “Victoria is starting the rumor that top actresses have been turned down for the role and the script will not be a film unless Layla Andrews is the lead. You must have a horseshoe up your ass because some animal guy had to cancel tonight, so you’ve got a spot on Kimmel, but you only have”—he checks his watch—“an hour to get there.”
“Then let’s go.” I grab my wallet and keys.
“Don’t you want to dress in something more appealing?” Jagger asks and I glance down at my casual attire.
“No. This is what I wear.”
He shakes his head, placing his hands on my shoulders and turning back toward my room. “Not when you’re trying to win a woman over.”
“Are you sure you’re not the chick?”
I sit in the green room, my palms sweaty, my leg tapping. The news hit E and TMZ about the other actresses being turned down already. It must be a slow scandal day, because normally that wouldn’t make it. Then again, Jagger knows people in high places.
“Vance.” A young guy walks in to mic me. “You’ll be on in about ten minutes. Sit tight and I’ll be back in to get you.”
Jagger is pacing the room. Leo is busy at the snack area, eating the entire array of chips and cookies. I have no idea how the guy can eat whatever he wants and maintain the muscles he does.
“Did you write down some notes or anything?” Jagger asks.
“No, I’m going to wing it.”
“Good man,” Leo mumbles over a mouthful of brownie.
Jagger stops pacing. “Wing it? On national television when people are going to wonder why the hell you’re even on anyway?”
“Speak from the heart. You know, that beating organ in your chest that keeps you alive?”
“Yes, I’m familiar with it. But that’s exactly what it is—an organ. It can’t be broken or shattered, nor can it swell when you’re in love. If it swells, it means you have pericarditis.”
“Peri-what?” Leo asks.
Jagger shrugs. “I fucked an ER doctor a few times.”
“Ah,” Leo and I both say in unison.
“You’re crazy.” I stand up, thankful to have a friend who makes me laugh right before I’m about to do something that will either make me a complete idiot or a complete genius.
The guy comes back in. “We’re ready for you, Vance.”
“Great.” I walk toward the door.
Leo gives me a pat on the back when I pass him. “Good luck, man. We’ll be waiting for you when you’re finished.”
I turn around toward Jagger. “I hope one day you’r
e lucky enough to get to know what love feels like.”
I laugh harder, Leo joining in, but Jagger’s face is stone-cold serious.
A woman has to come along one day and make him fall to his knees. A woman other than his long-time housekeeper and nanny, Marisol, that is, because she’s the only woman he’d do anything for.
Backstage is a busy place, so I try to stay out of the way as much as possible until I hear my cue to head out there.
“Now, we have a last-minute guest who apparently has something he wants to say to an actress we love, Layla Andrews. Please welcome scriptwriter Vance Rose.”
My face heats, my hands sweat, but I walk out to the stage unsure what will happen. This will either be the biggest public flop anyone’s ever seen in a long time, or it’ll be genius.
Fingers crossed it’s the latter.
Chapter 23
Layla
The doorbell rings and Payne runs to the door.
“Not until I’m here, remember?” I open the door to a smiling Carver.
“Daddy!” Payne runs into the arms of his dad.
In the last month, Carver has impressed me by using all his free time outside of filming to spend time with Payne and Via. I’m not even sure what made him realize he needed to step it up, but this is their first weekend away. The first time they’ll be out of my sight with their dad overnight. Carver has spent the night here a few times—in the guest room—but I’m still there.
Carver picks up Payne in his arms. “Hey, Payne.”
“What are the beads for?” Payne asks.
I almost choke on my own saliva. How he can remember to ask his dad the question he had last night I have no clue. Kids are priceless.
“Beads?” A deep groove forms between Carver’s brows.
“Why are they there?”
“Why are what where?” Carver asks, still not following. And why would he?
Payne reaches down between his legs. “Here.”
“Whoa. Okay, don’t touch them.” Carver shares a look with me that says, What the fuck is this about?
“Why don’t you talk about it tonight?” I’m barely holding my laugh inside.
Payne squirms and Carver places him down. “Go get your bag.”
“Okay.” Payne runs out of the room. “I’ll grab Via, too.”
“Isn’t this something we should be talking about together?”
“I don’t have beads.” I smile.
He rolls his eyes.
I slap him on the shoulder. “This is a daddy job.”
“Ha ha.”
Payne runs in with his bag, but before he can escape out the door, I grab his arm.
“Hug.” I hold my arms out. “I’m going to miss you.” I inhale a whiff of his hair and kiss him all over his face. “I love you.”
“Okay, Mom.” He wiggles out of my hold, wiping his face.
Via walks in dragging the stuffed elephant she loves so much.
“Does she have to bring that thing?” Carver whines like he’s Payne’s twin.
“She loves it.” I scoop her up in my arms.
“Jackass won it for her.”
“Who’s Jackass?” Payne asks. “Vance won it for her.” Then he stares at me. “You said we’d see him soon.” His hands land on his hips.
“You did?” Carver asks.
I sigh. “He won’t stop asking.”
“Rip off the Band-Aid,” Carver says, holding his arms out to Via. She leans into his arms with one hand on her elephant, her thumb in her mouth.
“Don’t drive fast. Don’t hire a nanny. No extra guests.” I eye Carver hard on the last one. “Make sure you always have your eye on Via.”
“I’m their father, not a stranger.” He looks between the kids. “Say goodbye to Mommy.”
“Bye, Mommy,” Payne says.
Via waves.
I can’t believe this is really happening. He’s taking them for an entire weekend, leaving me all by myself. What will I do with myself? It feels like a blessing and a curse.
“Watch for the paps,” I call out as they head down the walkway. “They’ve been stuck to me like glue lately.”
He waves his hand in the air with Payne’s pillow. “I am an actor, too, you know.”
I nod, waiting for him to get them strapped in his SUV.
“Don’t worry. They’ll be back alive on Sunday.” Carver drives off and the pit of my stomach hollows.
It’s times like this that I miss Vance the most. In the short time we were together he became such a solid foundation to lean on.
What the hell am I thinking?
No. You hate Vance.
But even I can’t make myself believe it anymore.
I’m three episodes in on the first season of Outlander when my phone rings.
So annoying. I’m pretty sure Jamie is going to take his shirt off soon.
I slide over the bar without averting my eyes from the TV screen. “You have a question already?” I ask, assuming it’s Carver.
“Is this Layla Andrews?” a woman asks.
I pull the phone away from my ear. Hmm. A number I don’t recognize. “This is she.” My tone is bitter, because after all the precautions I take a damn pap got my number.
“Oh, good. This is Hannah Crowley. I’m not sure you know who I am.”
“You’re the woman investing in Vance’s script.”
Why is this woman calling me?
“Yes. So, he has talked to you about me?”
“Not really. Just the fact that you wanted me to be the lead. I’m sure you already know by now that it’s not going to happen.” I lean forward and grab the wine bottle off the coffee table and pour myself another glass of wine.
“I have been made aware of that.”
“So, may I ask why you’re calling?” I sip my wine, placing the blanket across my legs.
“I wanted you to know that I’ve given him the investment without you as the actress.”
Does she think I’m going to be upset?
“Congratulations.” I can’t keep the sarcasm from my voice.
“There’s a problem. I’ve just been notified that he won’t do it without you.”
“What?” My wine glass slips a bit in my hold, but I secure it again.
“You heard me. He doesn’t care about my money, if you’re not the actress he won’t be selling the script and it’s such a great script. You’ve read it, I assume?”
“You assume right. I agree, it’s a great script. But Vance and I have had our differences.”
She laughs. “A lovers’ quarrel, right?”
“Well… yes.”
I don’t really want this lady in my business. I should be no concern to her, but she really wanted me to have that part and who is to say she wouldn’t do the same for another script down the road?
“I got a divorce last year,” she says.
Great. This woman thinks I’m Dear Abby.
“Don’t worry, this story won’t be long. He was a cheating bastard and then he and his prick of a lawyer tried to bankrupt me. Total asshole. Men make stupid decisions. They think with their dick the majority of the time and they think they’re always right. They want to be the boss. Am I right?”
I laugh. “You are.”
“But one thing that men never do is give up money or a chance to propel their career into the stratosphere for love. It’s in their genes, what they’re born to do. Be the breadwinner, make the most money. So, the fact that Vance is on national television telling everyone how much he loves you and that he won’t make the movie unless you agree to take the role should make it clear how much he loves you.”
“Excuse me, what? He’s where?” I fumble to find the remote. Damn, it’s in the blanket.
“Layla, I told Vance I love your work and you’re perfect for this part. At the dinner, he couldn’t stop praising you. Give the guy a second chance. Turn the channel to Late Night.”
Click. The line goes dead.
A second late
r I manage to locate the remote in the blanket and switch the channel and there’s Vance.
My heart skips a beat, and I suddenly feel a little dizzy. “Holy shit.”
“Many of you don’t know me. My name is Vance Rose. I was the executive producer for Abandoned for eight years. They fired me last year.”
The crowd boos and even Kimmel puts his thumbs down.
Vance chuckles a bit and holds his hand up like it’s okay. “They had good reason to fire me. I obviously couldn’t spot talent. Long story short, I screwed Layla Andrews out of a part.”
The crowd boos again.
“Okay, maybe I have to agree with your employer,” Kimmel says and the crowd’s boos morph into laughs.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Big mistake. That’s not even the cherry on top of the disaster I created with her. We made a deal. She needed a nanny and I needed a lead actress for the script I wrote. I didn’t think she needed to know my true identity, so I omitted information.”
“You mean lied?” Kimmel says and the drums from the house band hit like the punch line of a joke. Vance looks back over at him. “Just trying to keep people interested, man.” He laughs.
Vance turns back to look at the television. “Somewhere in the middle of caring for her son and daughter, I fell in love with her. Not her looks, I always knew she was beautiful. I became head over heels in love with her from watching her with her children. The way she juggles the impossible job of fame and motherhood. Her quirky side that makes me laugh. Children, plug your ears.”
“This is a PG show, Mr. Rose,” the host interjects.
“She’s sexy as hell. From earlier than I’d care to admit, she took a chunk out of me. Layla, I really hope you’re watching. I’m not doing the film without you. Even if you don’t want anything to do with me, take the part. I wrote it for you without realizing. I’m ashamed of what I did, but please know I’m not doing this because I love you and want you back. Well, I do want that. I’m doing this because you’re Melanie.” Vance turns to Kimmel. “Thanks for having me.”
Then like the true introvert he is, he walks off the stage.
Ring.
I jolt and grab my phone, looking at the caller ID screen, but it’s not the man I want it to be.