by Joyia Marie
He smiled at me with that slow sexy smile I had lusted over on my TV for hours on end. Then he said, “Well, thank you for that. Aiden is a hell of a character and a lot to live up to.”
This struck me dumb again, an occurrence I would have paid money for a few seconds ago and I just looked at him and shook my head. I left it up to him what I meant. Actually, I wasn’t sure what I meant, other than I couldn’t speak.
“Well, thanks for stopping by,” Carla said reminding us she was there. “We were just on our way out to…,” there she stopped sounding confused. Carla could organize every house on the Hoarders TV show, but ask her to tell a spontaneous lie and you had problems.
Devon gave us both an uncertain smile after Carla couldn’t figure out what to say, and again I felt my retinas singe. “Okay. Then let me get out of your hair. I don’t want to hold you…”
Oh, yes, hold me Devon, I thought deliriously. Hold me, you big hunk of burning man-love. Fortunately, the mute part of GNG was still in effect so I didn’t have a restraining order coming my way. I just smiled at him like a kid on her first trip to the circus, and he smiled back patiently. I guess he was used to it so maybe my raging case of GNG was a little less noticeable.
“Okay…,” he said again, and then released my arms finally.
My arms felt cold and I knew I would probably never wash them again. Devon Moore touched me! He really touched me! Oh, this was definitely a red-letter day.
Carla managed to get him out of my trailer before anything else embarrassing came out of my mouth. I so owed my cuz, she was so getting a raise, I thought absently, as I ran the past few minutes through my mind again. I was sure I’d be doing it repeatedly for the rest of my life so might as well get the details set while they were still fresh.
When I remembered this, I wouldn’t be in the throes of GNG. I’d be cool, calm, and collected. I’d be witty and urbane. I’d be anything but me. I sighed again and almost screamed when Devon stuck his head back in my trailer for a last goodbye.
“It was nice meeting you,” he said kindly.
I do mean kindly. Who would enjoy meeting a woman who acted as if she was in the early stages of Tourette's? Ah well, another suave performance by yours truly.
I managed to wave weakly and he gave me another uncertain smile before his beautiful head disappeared out of my door, forever. Hopefully, forever. Yeah, that was nice, but how much chocolaty goodness can one woman stand? No, I had had my fix, I had a nice memory. Well, it would be nice once I rewrote it, and that was that.
I was behind the camera, Devon was in front, and never the twain shall meet. I felt a burst of sadness at that. Between the 20 million changes and tweaks the director and producer kept asking for, I had been watching the pre-production shooting.
This whole Hollywood thing had been such an education. One I never planned to use because if I was ever done with this script, I would shoot my agent if she suggested I write another. This had been brutal.
“Well, who better?” Deirdre Collins, my agent, asked when she first approached me about writing the screen adaptation of my book, ‘Daddy Dearest’.
“Uh, anyone?” I said, in confusion.
Not that I actually meant anyone-anyone, I just meant anyone who knew how to write a screenplay. Which I didn’t not at the time. I also had no interest in learning.
I write fiction, romances to be exact, and I’m pretty good at it. It took me a minute to figure that out. I wrote all kinds of other stuff, both fiction and non-fiction, before I finally admitted my true love.
Well, it’s not exactly romance or strictly romance, it’s more like romantic-comedy slash chic lit or hen lit, as my female leads tend to be older than the dewy-eyed princesses of the twenty-year-old set. I may be young, but I’ve been told I have an old soul, plus I have my mom, my aunt, and a host of other older women to base my characters on so it’s fine.
Then, Deirdre mentioned the amount they were willing to pay me to do the screen adaptation and suddenly, I was dying to learn the art of screen writing. According to other authors, this was a dream shot. Who else knew how to do it better than the person who wrote it? I think they said that as a joke and I was too stupid to get it.
Anyway, I signed on, read up on screen writing, did the adaptation and turned it in thinking my job was done. When I write a book, once I turn it over to the editor at the publishers, it’s done. Other than edits, but that was handled via email so I stay in my lovely little office in my nice little house in Texas.
Well, that’s not how it works in Holly-Weird as I have taken to calling this strange place in LA. The first draft of a screenplay was the starting place, which I have discovered to my horror.
That nice little contract I trusted my agent with? Well, that included me on site for ‘changes’. So here, I am with the latest set of changes wondering what on earth has happened to my life and whether or not my cat, Devon, misses me.
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Crush, Book One
Crush, Book Two
Crush, Book Three – coming Spring 2014
Crush, Book Four – coming Summer 2014