Flirting With Fame (Flirting With Fame)

by Samantha Joyce

  “The thing is,” he continued, “the book has so much heart. The characters are definitely strong, and they are survivors, but they’re also funny, and flawed, and feel love very deeply for their families and each other. I can’t help but think someone who wrote all that can’t be as shallow as Aubrey appeared to be at first. There has to be more to her than what’s on the surface. A deeper side. I just need to find it. Because, while I may not have completely fallen for the Aubrey I’ve met in person yet, the Aubrey who wrote those books . . . well, I think she’s someone I could love.”

  My jaw opened so wide it was in danger of coming unhinged. I searched for a way to answer him.

  This was it. The perfect chance to tell the god of my dreams who I really was. He said he was falling for the woman who wrote Viking Moon. I just had to tell him that woman was me.

  “Gavin, I—”

  “I know.” He raked his hands through his hair before pulling the hood higher over his locks and pushing up his sunglasses. “It’s silly. To fall for someone just because of the words they put on a page. Just because she writes romance doesn’t mean she’s sappy and romantic.”

  “No, Gavin. I am—”

  I had no idea how tightly I’d been clutching my coffee cup until the cheap plastic lid flew off it and coffee spit up from the top like a geyser. Brown liquid coated my hand and shoe, burning my fingers. Gavin grabbed his knee as the scalding drink seeped through his jeans.

  “Shit. Shit, I’m so sorry. Hang on.” I reached into my bag, digging to the bottom. My hand emerged with a fistful of white paper. “I always carry napkins. Things like this happen to me all the time.”

  I tossed a few in his direction and used the rest for myself, simultaneously wiping down and saying a silent prayer for my doused laptop. The stinging in my hands subsided as I wiped them clean.

  “Are you okay?” I asked. “I’m so sorry about your jeans.”

  He balled up the napkins and shoved them into his pocket. “It’s fine. I have, like, a thousand pairs. Are you hurt, though? It got all over your hand.”

  Gavin grabbed my wrist and examined my slightly reddened skin.

  “I’m fine,” I said. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. It was just a surprise. I’m such an idiot sometimes.”

  “You’re not an idiot.” Gavin’s grip tightened on my wrist. “Don’t ever say that. It was just an accident. What was it you were starting to say earlier?”

  I had opened my mouth to reply when a gentle tap on the shoulder made me jump. I pulled my wrist out of Gavin’s hand and turned to face a very confused-looking cowboy.

  “Hey,” Clint said. “What’s going on, darlin’? Everythin’ okay?”

  I glanced at Gavin, who had pulled the hood closer to his face. The fabric did little to hide the amused smirk that took up residence in the corner of his mouth.

  “No,” I said as Clint took the seat on the other side of me. “Just some hungover guy who wandered into the wrong class.”

  “Is he botherin’ you, darlin’? You want me to request him to leave?” Clint regarded Gavin with narrowed eyes.

  “No,” I said. “It’s fine. He’s not hurting anyone.”

  Clint gave Gavin one more look before shrugging. “Fine. Live ’n’ let live, I say. But you let me know if he gives you a hassle.”

  “Of course.”

  Clint pulled out his crumpled papers, and I shook my head in wonder at how he managed to pass any classes with everything so scattered and wrinkled. I hit the Power button on my laptop, and sighed with relief as it booted up properly. When Gavin’s shirtless picture greeted me on the screen, I slammed the computer shut. The vibrations from the broad shoulders beside me told me I was too late. Gavin Hartley was laughing at me. I peeked up at him.

  Nice screen saver, he signed.

  Must be a virus, I signed back.

  A virus that puts a half-naked picture of me on your desktop?

  Yeah, it’s going around.

  He shook his head, his body still shuddering with laughter, but didn’t say anything else as something at the front of the room caused him to snap to attention. I followed his gaze. As Professor Creed began his lecture, I hit Record on my app and reopened my computer. I had just managed to replace the image of Gavin with a less embarrassing one of a cat wearing sunglasses when a piece of paper landed on my keyboard.

  I squinted at Clint’s chicken scratch:

  Sure you’re okay? The guy beside you keeps staring. You don’t want me to say something?

  I couldn’t help but smile as I scribbled a reply.

  I’m fine. He’s fine. And what is this, 1996? Handwritten notes passed in class? Next thing, you’re going to ask me if I’ll go out with you and draw boxes for my options.

  My dictation app showed me Professor Creed was still in the middle of his lecture, but I risked a look at the front of the room to make sure before handing the note back to Clint.

  A few minutes later, another note landed on my desk.

  So, will you go out with me? Feel free to check the appropriate box:

  Of course, you sexy thing! I haven’t stopped thinking about our kiss!

  I’m averse to dating good-looking cowboys.

  I’m saving myself for Vikings.

  I flushed, the memory of his kiss during the first week of school still as vivid as if it were yesterday. But there was still Reggie. And the show. And, presently, the knee of a movie star pressed against my own.

  I shook my head and wrote my own line at the bottom:

  I’m flattered, but between the show and school, I don’t have time for dating.

  My neck prickled as I felt Gavin watching me. I glanced up to see him studying my note. I passed the note to Clint with an apologetic glance and returned my focus to trying to translate my dictation transcript into notes that made some semblance of sense on my computer.

  The floor rumbled beneath my feet as class ended half an hour later, and students scrambled out of the room. I told Clint I needed to speak with Professor Creed and he should go ahead without me. He wrinkled his forehead at me, but left the room. When we were alone, I turned to Gavin. “So, do you want to meet Duncan Creed?”

  “Seriously?” he asked, rubbing his neck. “Um, okay, but I have no idea what to say to him. What if I say something stupid?”

  The worried look in his eyes and the fact that he was nervous about meeting someone were kind of adorable. I thought back to our conversation earlier and ignored the mild ache in my chest at the thought that I’d missed my chance with him.

  “You’ll be fine,” I said. “Come on.”

  I led him to the front of the room, where my professor had just finished slipping papers into his leather briefcase.

  “Professor Creed?”

  My professor beamed at me. “Elise! It’s Duncan, remember?”

  “Right. Duncan. I have a . . . a friend who wants to meet you.” Had I really just called a movie star my friend as I introduced him to my literary hero? This seemed all kinds of backward. “This is Gavin Hartley.”

  Gavin removed his sunglasses and pushed down the hood. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

  “Oh! The actor!” Professor Creed extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, son.”

  Gavin stared at the author’s hand like he wasn’t sure what to do with it. I nudged him in the side. “Gavin and I work together. When I mentioned you were my professor, he said he wanted to come meet you. He’s a big fan. Right, Gavin?”

  One more elbow to the side seemed to break the starstruck Gavin out of his trance. He grabbed Professor Creed’s still-extended hand and pumped it enthusiastically, eyes sparkling and face flushed with the excitement of meeting his idol for the first time. I knew that look well. I’d just never seen it from him.

  “Yes, sir.” Gavin pulled his hand back and shoved it in his poc
ket. “I think you’re an incredible writer. And Carnivore’s Teeth has to be one of the best books of all time.”

  “Well, thank you. That means a lot.” Professor Creed’s face lit up. “That’s my favorite, too. It was one of those books that just poured out, you know. I find those to be the best ones.”

  I nodded. “I love when that happens.”

  “Oh, so you are a writer,” Professor Creed said. “I had my suspicions after reading your essays. You’re very good at it, my dear. Maybe I can see some samples? I do have some expertise on the craft.”

  “Um, well, I don’t really have anything to share.”

  Gavin nudged me. “Come on, Elise, you have a notebook full of stories. I saw it earlier.”

  I gaped at him. What was wrong with him? There was no way in the hottest of hells Duncan Creed would ever get a glimpse at my scribbled short stories.

  “What?” Gavin shrugged. “The parts I read seemed great. There was even some kissing. In fact, in one I skimmed over it went past that and into—”

  “Okay!” I thrust him toward the stairs. “Don’t you need to get to the set? I’m sure you have lots to do. Scripts to memorize, costumes to be sized for . . .”

  “I probably have a few minutes.” The smirk on Gavin’s face fueled me to push him harder to the exit.

  “Nope. You don’t.” I grinned through what had to be the reddest of faces at my professor. “Bye, Professor Creed. Thanks.”

  “Duncan.”

  “Right.”

  “See ya, Duncan,” Gavin said with a wave. “If they ever make a movie of one of your books . . .”

  “You’ll be the first person I call, Mr. Hartley.”

  The pride that flashed across Gavin’s face warmed me from my toes to my head. As we finally left the classroom, Gavin slung an arm around my shoulders and pulled me into a side hug. I struggled to keep myself from closing my eyes and resting my head against his taut chest. His now familiar cinnamon scent did little to help. When his grip loosened and I looked up at him, he gave me an excited smile.

  “I can’t believe I just met Duncan Creed! Thanks, Elise. I owe you one. Anything you need, you let me know.”

  “I had no idea stars could get starstruck.”

  “Of course. We have people we admire, too, you know. Creed’s books got me through some pretty tough times. I’m not sure I would’ve made it to where I am now without them. There’s something to be said about the escape reading gives you.”

  It was there again, that sadness in his eyes. But then the sunglasses were back on, the hood pulled forward, and everything was lost behind them.

  “I suppose acting provides a similar escape,” I said. “Always playing someone else.”

  “That it does,” he said. “It’s why I love it so much.”

  “I can’t imagine someone like you would have much you’d need to escape.”

  He stared at me over the rim of the glasses. We all have our secrets, he signed. I’m sure you have yours.

  I bit back a laugh. I guess I have a few.

  He pushed the sunglasses up his nose. “Well, I’d better get to set. Makeup’s gotta give me some cuts and bruises today. Mind you, you shoved me so hard back there, they may not have to do much.” He pouted and rubbed his bicep.

  “Oh, please. Like I could hurt you. Now, go to work, you big baby. I’ll see you there after my next class.”

  “Fine, fine. Jeez, you’re forceful sometimes. I see why Aubrey hired you.” He reached for the door and then turned back to sign, Thanks again. That was one of the more awesome moments of my life. And it’s because of you.

  He leaned forward and brushed his lips across my cheek before opening the door and stepping into the sunshine. My fingers traced the place on my cheek where he’d lingered, noting it was right beside my scar. I took a deep breath and a few moments to compose myself before following him out of the building. I tripped on a wayward branch on the first step, and my heart met my throat as I fell toward the concrete. A pair of strong arms grabbed me.

  “Easy, darlin’,” Clint said as I looked up at him in surprise. “First you reject me kissin’ you, and then you’re fallin’ right into my hands like a baby calf. You’re givin’ me mixed signals here.”

  “What are you still doing here, cowboy? Don’t you have another class to get to?”

  He righted me and helped me down the rest of the steps before we headed across campus. October kicked up a crisp breeze as we walked, and I pulled my cardigan tighter around my shoulders.

  “I wanted to make sure everythin’ was okay. You were actin’ strange in class. Now I know why.”

  He pointed to the right, where Gavin stood in the center of the quad. He was surrounded by surprisingly pushy girls, all clamoring to get his attention. He waded expertly through them, signing autographs and posing for selfies as he headed to his car.

  “That’s the dude from the show you’re workin’ on, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Sorry I couldn’t tell you back there. He was trying to remain inconspicuous. Guess it didn’t work.”

  “It’s all good, darlin’. As long as you’re okay. And at least now I know why you keep sayin’ no when I ask you out. You two sure were lookin’ mighty cozy.”

  I almost choked. “Ha! No, it’s nothing like that. He’s dating Aubrey. Remember? They’re all over the news.”

  We made it to the building for my next class. Based on the empty entranceway, I was late again.

  “I know, I saw them at the bar. But I also know he didn’t take his eyes off you most of the class.”

  “I think you’re seeing things, cowboy. Maybe you’re just jealous.” I rubbed at the knee of my jeans, where the hint of a brown coffee stain was evidence of the fact that Gavin had spent the entire lecture with his leg pressed against mine.

  “Could be, darlin’. Could be. But I know when I’ve been outdrawn.” Clint tugged on his hat. “Will I at least see you at the café tonight?”

  “You’re performing again, right?”

  It had become routine, when I wasn’t on set, for Reggie and me to trek down to the crowded coffee shop and watch Clint read poetry. Reggie would scream and clap for him, pulling me back onto the couch each night when I tried to leave the moment he was done.

  Reggie always took extra time getting ready when she knew we’d be seeing Clint. I couldn’t figure out why she didn’t just ask him out. She didn’t appear to have any confidence issues. But when I’d bring it up, she’d stammer and turn a deeper shade of crimson than my sweater.

  “A-yup,” Clint said. “Nine o’clock.”

  “I’m heading to set after this class, but filming’s supposed to wrap at eight. I’ll try to get there for sure. If I don’t see you beforehand, good luck.” I paused. “And, cowboy . . . if I’m not there, I think you should make sure you spend some time with Reggie. You two have more in common than you probably realize.”

  He regarded me for a moment. “I will. Thanks, darlin’. Have fun on set today.”

  “Honestly? I’d rather go home and sleep for about thirty hours.”

  “You could quit,” Clint offered.

  “I can’t, actually. It’s kind of complicated. Later, cowboy.”

  “Bye, darlin’.”

  I pried the door open and watched Clint disappear across the lawn with the light glinting off his hat, like an old movie character walking into the sunset.

  • • •

  Two gleaming swords met in the skyline. In my mind, the sound rang across the horizon as they became one. Gavin kicked out at Tanner Dryden, the actor playing Elof, and the man stumbled into the sand. As he tumbled, Tanner kicked sand into Gavin’s face and Gavin coughed as the grains entered his open mouth.

  Everything stopped as the director yelled “Cut!” and Gavin left, presumably to clean himself up.

&nbs
p; Veronica tapped my shoulder. “Be a dear and get me a coffee from craft services, would you?”

  She mimed picking up a cup and drinking it.

  “That’s not the sign for coffee.” I placed my fists one on top of the other and rotated the top fist in a counterclockwise direction. “That is.”

  My attempted ASL lesson was in vain, however, as Veronica had already pulled out her phone and no longer looked in my direction. She swatted me away like a pesky mosquito, and I curled my hands into fists as I spun on my heel.

  I weaved through the cameras and crew members, nodding at the people who offered a wave in my direction. As I passed Dag’s shack, I glanced around. No one seemed to be watching me. The shack had been given a removable fourth wall for exterior shots since my first day. If I had to do such stupid things as bringing Veronica coffee, I should at least be allowed a few moments alone in the home of the character I created.

  The door had been carved from a deep-grained wood and I slid my fingers across its surface, grinning as it rose and fell beneath my flesh. I turned the handle and slipped into the dim cabin. It took a few minutes for my eyes to become accustomed to the lack of light in the small space, but soon, I could make out the long dinner table and rolls of maps piled in the corner.

  A movement to my left caught my eye. I eased forward, squinting at the abundance of furs. I clapped my hand over my mouth.

  A bear.

  Somehow a bear had gotten into the cabin. And I was alone with it. I took a step back, almost colliding with a spotlight. I wrapped my shaking hand around the stem and found the power switch. White light filled the room, bringing the shadows into focus. At the exact same moment, the pelts fell to the floor, revealing the deep honey of perfectly tanned and toned skin. The creature turned and I gasped.

  So . . . not a bear, then.

  It was Gavin Hartley.

  And he was naked.

  “Elise?”

  I probably should’ve focused on Gavin’s lips after he asked the question, but my eyes roamed lower of their own accord. Past his toned shoulders, down his well-defined abs and . . .

  Well, then.

  No wonder the man got all the women in Hollywood. Michelangelo would’ve wept at Gavin’s form and tossed David right into the Tiber River before retiring to the Italian countryside for good.