The Italian Heartthrob: Forbidden Standalone

by N J Adel

  The sounds of her getting sick turned violent. “I’ve been like this…since I started the movie.” Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she got to her feet, flushed the toilet, and then she splashed water from the sink faucet onto her face. “Do you have, like, mouthwash or something?”

  He opened the cabinet above the sink and grabbed a blue bottle. “Here.”

  As she gurgled on the minty liquid, he gave her a backrub. “I’m worried about you, Carolina.”

  She spat. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’ve been like this my whole life.”

  “I know, but this business needs better nerves.”

  She laughed tiredly. “Thank God for weed. Let’s roll some.”

  “No. You smoked too much yesterday.”

  “So?” She trudged down the hallway and back to the living room.

  Mike followed, apprehension building up in him. She did love weed, and she had her own vape, but he’d always thought she smoked for fun, not to deal with pressure.

  He bent a leg under him as he curled back on the couch next to her. “How much do you smoke a day?”

  She fumbled with her phone. “What are you? Party police?”

  “I’m serious.”

  “I don’t keep track. Depends on the day and how shitty I feel. Some days, I don’t smoke at all. Other days, I might party till I can’t keep my eyes open. Who are you to judge? You party every fucking day.”

  “But I never get stoned when I work. You shouldn’t either. Ever heard of studio drug tests? They’re a pain in the ass to cheat, and if you tested positive, you could lose your job.”

  “Why the hell are you telling me a cautionary tale? It’s not like I depend on it or something.”

  “Yet.” A wave of nausea hit him. “You don’t depend on it yet.”

  “Are you for real right now? Oh my God. This is fucked up. I really didn’t need this right now.” She rose, her eyes wide. “The whole country is gonna call me a fucking bitch, a gold digger! My family and friends, who, by the way, love Kyle more than they love me, will hate me for what I did to him. Not to mention how shitty I feel about what I did to him. And you’re doing this? Excuse me if I’m trying to loosen up a bit!”

  “Vita mia—”

  “Don’t Vita mia me!” she yelled. “You’re gonna wake up a happy man, parading your triumph, while your friends commend and congratulate you for getting the young ass.”

  He stood. “Che cazzo? You think you’re some conquest to me? Some trophy?”

  “You know what I mean. You have nothing to lose here. I do. Andrea is gonna give me shit. My crew will fake smiles to my face while calling me a heartless bitch behind my back. And I won’t be able to say a thing to either of them. I’m the one whose heart will be torn with guilt every time I see Kyle’s name on my phone. I’m sure as hell I didn’t need a lecture about drugs from Mike Gennaro.”

  He chewed on his lip, not knowing whether to yell back or hug her now. Despite how agitated her words made him feel, it was all true. He was too selfish, too happy, to see the situation from her perspective. Regardless of how many times he or she would deny it, people would believe what they wanted to believe. As a man, he’d be commended for tapping The Kid. As a woman, she’d be called names.

  His heart dented at the thought alone. He stepped forward and kissed her hard. She resisted at first, but her tongue softened in the end, accepting. Then both of her hands were on his chest as she pulled away. “You can’t win an argument like that. It’s not fair.”

  “I wasn’t trying to win.” His fingers tangled in her hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I overreacted, I know, but now that you’re my girlfriend, I feel even more protective of you. I was worried, that’s all. I’ll die if something ever happens to you.”

  She wrapped her arms around his waist. “Nothing will happen to me, Superstar. But I need your support, not your judgment.”

  “Always.”

  The doorbell chimed, and she flinched in his arms.

  “That must be James,” he said.

  “Let the war begin,” she mumbled.

  Scene 41

  Maggie

  “It’s a wrap for today,” Erisha, the AD, yelled out and instantly turned to me, handing me a piece of paper. “Your call sheet.”

  I nodded, stretching my arms and rose from my chair. A wave of vertigo slammed into me, and I fell back.

  “Maggie?” Erisha crouched next to me. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” My head spun as I remembered I hadn’t eaten a thing all day. “I’ll go screen dailies. Can you please get me a sandwich or something and meet me in the screening room?”

  “Sure. Anything?”

  “Anything but chicken will be fine.” I trudged past wires and equipment and into the screening room.

  It was almost empty of people, except for the DP. He was around fifty years old and his eyes reminded me of Dad. I sat, my sneakers propped against the edge of the board, rubbing my eyes as I watched the clips playing.

  “What happened to you?” he asked, hunched over an array of buttons and sliders underneath the three television screens, his words slow as he always talked. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like shit.”

  You don’t say? Between an exhausting and unsatisfactory conversation with the managers last night—they couldn’t come up with a good cover up story yet—and knowing that Mike wasn’t going to be with me for an entire week, I couldn’t sleep or eat at all. And sneaking out of his house and not being able to see him off to the airport hurt more than I expected. “Just a little dizzy. I forgot to eat.” My stomach growled, as if on cue.

  “You need to take care of yourself, Kid.” He pressed a button, and the clip changed to a close-up of Chester Monroe. “If you’re not careful, this business will get the best of you.”

  “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” I ignored the Kid word and focused on the screens. Everybody called me that now. From Don Robello himself to the PAs. Perhaps it was better to embrace the stupid nickname until it faded with time.

  At the sound of approaching footsteps, I jerked my head toward them. Please be Erisha with the food.

  But it was Amanda.

  I smiled at the friendly face I hadn’t seen since the party. “Hey. I haven’t seen you all day. I thought you were off or something.”

  Amanda’s eyes barely flickered toward me. “No, I’m here.” She bowed her head, tucking her hair behind her ear, and handed the DVDs in her hands to the DP. “Do you need anything else?”

  He shook his head. “Thanks.”

  It’d been flying eye daggers all around set today, but I didn’t expect that attitude from my own friend. Et tu, Brute? I stood. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

  Amanda pointed at the editing room, her feet fast on the way out. “Not now, Maggie. It’s already late, and I still have a good hour in there.”

  I cut in her path, holding her arm. “I’m sure you can spare five minutes.”

  Amanda’s eyes were smoky, and I was shocked by the hostility in them. The DP smiled uneasily and edged away.

  “What the fuck is going on?” I asked.

  Amanda shrugged. “Nothing.”

  “Really? Then why are you avoiding me? And why are you giving me this fucking look?”

  “Look, Maggie…we’ve been friends for almost a year. You’re one of the most talented people I’ve ever seen, and I’m very thankful to you for getting me this gig. But…”

  “But what?”

  Amanda’s gaze became harsh. “What you did at the party…was just low,” she whispered.

  I looked around to see if someone was listening, but the room was ours. “What exactly did I do? I was ambushed with a marriage proposal I wasn’t ready for. I couldn’t have just said yes to please people.”

  “It’s not just that. You… You ran away with another man,” Amanda said, her voice hushed. “Like it wasn’t enough that you broke Kyle’s heart, but you had to rub it in his f
ace in front of everyone.”

  My arm dropped. “I didn’t run away with another man. I just ran away. Mike was the only one who wasn’t looking at me like I had shit on my face. You should’ve seen the way you looked at me when you didn’t find a ring on my finger. Even my father looked at me like I’d just killed someone.”

  “I was shocked. We were all shocked.”

  “Why? Because I was so happy with Kyle you didn’t see it coming?” I scoffed. “Or because someone like me can never find a better husband and I was insane to say no?”

  “Maggie—”

  “I thought you were my friend. I thought you were gonna be on my side.” I started away before I’d cry, but Amanda touched my arm, stopping me.

  “I am your friend, and I’m sorry I’ve been a shitty one. I should’ve been there for you. And for the record, I don’t believe what they say about you hooking up with Mike for the movies. I mean, I’ve been there every step of the way. It’s just—”

  “You like Kyle too much,” I interrupted again.

  Amanda blushed, her lashes fluttering. “I… I… Um…”

  “It’s okay.” I smiled, my shoulder lifting with a shrug. “He’s single now.”

  “I would never do that,” Amanda said quickly.

  “It’s better you than anyone else. You and I both know someone like him won’t stay single for long.”

  He might have failed to make me feel loved or happy, but he was, at heart, a good man. He just didn’t know that love meant acceptance. And he didn’t have what it took to understand that life wasn’t made of sunshine and rainbows. Not my life anyway.

  Now that I had Mike, that I, for the first time, felt like I was home, I wanted everyone I cared about to feel the same way.

  Amanda was about to say something, but her stare lingered over my shoulder. I turned and found Chester stepping inside the room, a bright smile on his lips, a duffle bag in his grip.

  “That’s my cue.” Amanda patted my arm before she ambled away.

  Shit. I wished Amanda could have stayed longer so I could ask her about what happened at the party after I left and…about Kyle. But then, what good could come out of knowing how he’d been? Better Drop it. “Don’t be a stranger, Amanda.”

  She glanced at me over her shoulder, and then she came back and gave me a hug. “Drinks tomorrow?”

  I squeezed her back, happy that I didn’t lose one of my closest friends. “Sure.” Then I watched her disappear behind the door, before I returned to my seat.

  Chester dragged a chair and settled next to me, tossing rusty blond hair off his forehead. His blue eyes flicked from his face on the screen to mine. “Do you think you have it?”

  I glanced at the different angles of the presented scene and pointed at the shot on the left screen. “Yeah. This one here.”

  He stood up and reached between his legs, grabbing the chair and dragging it closer. When he sat back down, there were only a couple of feet between us. “I like it. Can you show me the one with the kiss?”

  I pressed a button, and the short clip played seamlessly. “It’s good.”

  “The kiss?” He leaned forward. “Or the kisser?”

  My eyes trained on his face, studying it. The swallow of his throat. The heat of his cheeks. The twitch of his lips. Fuck. “The scene is good, Monroe. If you wanna know about your kissing skills, don’t ask me. Ask your co-star.”

  “But I don’t wanna ask Sandra. I don’t have a thing for Sandra.” He ran a hand over the back of his head. “I kinda like you, Maggie…since I first saw you. You were taken then, but now you’re single. I mean, you are single, Mags?”

  I narrowed my eyes into a harsh squint. “Are you hitting on me or were you sent to know if I’m secretly dating a certain celebrity?”

  “Um… I never believed that Gennaro thing. He’s too old for you, but I’m not hitting on you either. Not that way. I mean, I wanna take you out, like, on a real date.” He flashed ridiculously-white teeth at me. “I really like you, Mags.”

  I tilted back in my chair and looked at the ceiling. My phone was vibrating in my pocket, but I couldn’t just answer it. Not in the middle of this craziness. Especially if it was Mike. “Seriously, Chester? I just broke up like two fucking minutes ago.” My glare returned to his face. “And I’m your boss. Call me Mags again, and I’ll kill you.”

  He grinned. “You’re even hotter when you’re mad.”

  I kicked his knee, and he winced, laughing through the pain. Looking at the door, I spotted Erisha coming in with a sandwich in her hand. “What took you so long?” I grabbed the sandwich and munched on it. “Can we screen those fuckin’ dailies so we can all go home?”

  My phone vibrated again. It had to be Mike, reminding me to eat and checking how I was handling today, like he’d been all day. But when everyone stepped away from me and I glanced at the screen, I saw it wasn’t Mike. It was Kyle.

  Scene 42

  Maggie

  It was almost midnight when I made it home. I’d been working for fourteen hours in an unfriendly environment, my stomach acting up as fuck, and the last thing I needed was photographers and reporters mobbing around my apartment building.

  Their shouts fell on me unheard as I elbowed my way through the masses without so much of a word. I wasn’t ready for their irritating questions, and if I opened my mouth I’d snap.

  The second I reached the apartment, I dropped on the bed. My phone’s vibrations tingled at my thigh. “Please be Mike,” I said, getting my phone out of my pocket. My lips tightened as I stared at the name. Kyle. Again.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, a wave of nausea hitting me hard. Then I stared back at the dimming screen, my thumb acting faster than my brain.

  “Hello?” His voice was hoarse as if he hadn’t spoken in a while.

  My heart thumped as I peered at the call in progress, my hand slow as it brought the phone to my ear.

  “Maggie?”

  I gulped. “Yes.”

  “I’m…downstairs in my car.” A heavy sigh escaped him. “I didn’t wanna come up when you weren’t there. Can I… I need to get a few things from the apartment.”

  “Yes.” Suddenly, I became aware everything in the apartment was exactly as I left it two days ago. “But be careful. There’re reporters at the entrance.”

  “I know. I’ll go from the back. Thanks.” He hung up.

  The phone fell to my lap, my eyes pinned to the door. When I heard the key rattle, I flinched. The door opened and Kyle’s blond hair popped in as he took off his cap. He stood by the door for a few seconds, glancing at me. The eyes said it all. The hurt. The betrayal. The love. The longing. By the puffiness under them and the circles around, I knew he’d been crying. A lot.

  He let himself in and closed the door, his head down. “I’m just gonna get some things and go.”

  I traced him as he stumbled through the apartment, grabbing random things. It was odd watching his incredible body that once drove me crazy and feeling nothing. Not the slightest bit of temptation.

  “How long have you been waiting for me?” I asked.

  “Um…a few hours.” He opened the closet and got a suitcase out of it. “You haven’t stayed here since…the party.” His neck rolled back. “Where have you been staying?”

  Flashes of the disaster party streamed in my mind, guilt escalating inside me. I pulled at the back of my hair, my stomach tied in a thousand knots, thinking of the best deflection tactic to use; I couldn’t tell him the truth. “You stalking me now?”

  “Maybe.” He chuckled a humorless sound. “I tried to call you, but you never answered, so I got a little worried.” His hands grabbed some shirts from the clothes rack and threw them in the suitcase. I could see the tightness of his jaw and the scowl on his face from where I sat, and when our eyes met, my chest squeezed with pain.

  He spun and let the suitcase drop on the floor, and my heart sank to my knees. “You left without a word. You didn’t say why. You didn’t say goodbye. You didn�
�t say anything. You just disappeared.” His blue eyes glittered. “You don’t think I deserve an explanation, some sort of closure, a chance to fix what went wrong?”

  My chin quivered. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry?” he asked incredulously. “How could you do this to me? Why did you lie to me?”

  “I never lied to you.”

  “You told me you loved me when you were in love with him the whole time,” he yelled.

  I rose from the bed. “Kyle, you know I didn’t say I loved you till I meant it. When I said it, I felt every word.”

  He crossed to my side and stood so close I could feel his heated breaths on my face. “Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t leave me to be with him.”

  I squared my shoulders and stared at him with daring eyes, guilt suddenly replaced by anger. “I didn’t leave you to be with him.”

  “Stop lying to me.”

  “I’m not lying.” Two days ago, Mike had been a fantasy I hadn’t known could come true. And even if I hadn’t been in love with Mike, I would have never married Kyle.

  “Then why?” he asked under his breath.

  I lowered my head. “Kyle, please. What difference does it make?”

  “I need to know. I loved you more than anything in the world. Why did you do this to me, Maggie? Why?” he shouted.

  “Because since we moved in together, I couldn’t recognize myself anymore,” I snapped, my chest heaving.

  He stepped back, his eyes dimming, dark. “What are you talking about? You were happy.”

  “Happy? Kyle, I looked perfect on the outside, handmade for you, but on the inside, I felt like shit. Not good enough as I am.” A lump rose to my throat. “Exactly the way my mother made me feel. The same kind of manipulation. The same kind of hurt.”

  Dazed, he stared at me. “When have I ever manipulated you?”

  “Oh my God.” I didn’t know what upset me more now, what he’d done or how oblivious he was to it. “How about when you got me to move in with you, the spontaneous sex and saying dirty words that never happened again after that night? Or the birthday party? I’m sure you hated every part of it, but it was the perfect setup to blind me with your generosity and the great length you’d go to make it perfect for me. Another thing I’m positive wouldn’t have happened again once I said yes.”