Between the Lies (Between the Raindrops #2)

by Susan Schussler

  “I don’t think that will ever change.”

  There was a knock on the door, and Jon grabbed his jacket off the back of the love seat. “Are we ready? We’re meeting everyone in the lobby in five minutes.” Sarah nodded and grabbed his arm to balance as she slipped on her heels. “Let’s head down. I’m sure that’s Sam,” Jon stated as he reached for the door.

  The premiere’s red carpet went smoothly, and it wasn’t long before everyone was seated inside the theater. From the beginning, the film’s cinematography was unbelievable. Sarah didn’t remember ever seeing a movie that captured the essence of the1960s time period with such attention to detail. The use of camera angles alone made the film worth seeing, but the acting was phenomenal as well. During the scene where Jonathan’s character admitted to his girlfriend that he started the fire that killed his brother, there wasn’t a dry eye in the room. Even Isaac was tearing up. And when the character told her he loved her, the entire theater stood up and cheered. Sarah didn’t know if it was normal for standing ovations to occur at premieres. This was her first official one. She leaned into Jon’s ear and asked, “Is that normal?”

  Jon shook his head with the hugest smile on his face. “It’s the first time I’ve seen it.”

  “It’s great.” Wow. The film was phenomenal. Jon was definitely going to get some recognition from his work in it. “You are amazing. You know that,” she said as she smiled up at him.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sarah

  THE NEXT DAY SARAH and Nak slipped out of the press junket to grab some coffee. It was only 10:00 a.m. The actual interviews were just getting started, but the setup was delayed, and they had been waiting around since 8:00 a.m. They were out late again last night with the premiere, and Sarah was tired this morning. She still hadn’t recovered from her sleep deficit yet. She had gotten a shower but had not gotten coffee, and her head was starting to pound from the lack of caffeine.

  On their way to the café, Sarah and Nak ran into a group of people who Nak knew. One was a makeup artist who used to date Liam, and two others were people who Nak had worked with previously. He introduced Sarah, and she listened to the conversation for several minutes, not really having much to add to the exchange.

  As Nak stood talking with his friends, Sarah interrupted, “I’m going to grab that table before it’s gone. You want a coffee, right?” There was one table left on the sidewalk, and Sarah wanted to be able to sit outside. The view of the beach was so beautiful she couldn’t imagine wasting it by being inside. Besides, her head felt as if she wore an invisible vice as a hat and it was being tightened every minute she was caffeine-free.

  “Yes, black. I’ll be right there.”

  She smiled at the group and said, “It was nice to meet you.”

  She made her way to the table and sat down on one of the wrought iron chairs. The server approached her immediately and took her order. As the waitress left, Sarah looked around the cafe. She was right to grab the table. There was a line starting to form by the entrance. She could see Nak still talking to his friends about thirty feet away from her, and every table in the cafe was full.

  As she glanced around, she noticed an attractive man in his late twenties sipping coffee and writing in a leather-bound book. She wondered what he was writing about. Her journal was in her bag. She hadn’t had much time to write in it since she arrived in France. She had done some journaling on the plane, but she hadn’t documented any of her experiences since they landed. She debated whether she would have enough time to do any decent writing before Nak joined her. It was worth a try, she thought. Sarah pulled it out of her purse. If nothing else it would make her look busy. Just as she began to write, a shadow crossed her journal page and she looked up expecting it to be Nak taking the seat across from her. It wasn’t Nak. It was the eye-catching man who Sarah had spotted when she first sat down.

  He waved his journal in front of his chest and spoke in a thick French accent. “Not many of us still use paper. So you are a writer, too?”

  Sarah nodded with a smile as she closed her book.

  “Hello, I am Christophe,” he said, extending his hand.

  She met his hand and shook. “Hi, I’m Sarah.”

  “So, Sarah, what kind of writer are you? Have you written anything I would have read?” He stared into her eyes.

  “I’m still a student,” she chuckled. “It’s just a journal.”

  “Only serious writers use real paper and ink. You must be published somewhere.”

  “Well…” she hesitated, not knowing if she should share anything personal with this stranger. “I wrote a short story that got published in a literary magazine last year,” she looked away from his gaze. He was definitely flirting with her. His thick French accent made every word from his mouth sound dirty.

  “Really? Which magazine? I bet I have read it. I love short stories.”

  “The Tapestry. Have you heard of it? It’s pretty well known in the literary circles in the United States. One of my professors submitted my story, and they published it last April. I was surprised. I didn’t think they would ever accept it,” she admitted.

  “I do not get that periodical, but I will look for it. I bet your story is wonderful,” he stated with a grin. Then he said something in French that sounded like he was asking her out.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t speak French at all,” she chuckled. “I’ve had Spanish as a second language since elementary school, but I still can’t speak it,” she admitted.

  “Venga a pasar el verano conmigo cerca del océano,” he stated in Spanish with raised eyebrows.

  She chuckled and replied, “Sorry, but my summer is going to be really busy. I said I couldn’t speak Spanish. I didn’t say I couldn’t understand it. How many languages do you speak?” He was definitely flirting.

  “Just the three. I understand more than I can speak as well,” he chuckled. He folded his fingers on top of his book, which was now lying on the table. “Tell me, Sarah, who is your favorite writer.”

  “Classic or modern?”

  “Classic,” he clarified.

  She looked down at her journal collecting her thoughts. “I love Guy de Maupassant. I think his writing is intelligent. His take on politics and world economics is still very relevant to the problems in today’s society.” She looked up expecting his eyes to have glazed over, but he held his receptive look, so she continued. “He doesn’t assume the reader is an idiot by explaining every element of the story. He implies much of the details, which allows the reader to use her imagination to fill in the blanks, but yet he is descriptive where he needs to be. He allows the readers to build the story in their minds. I like that.” Sarah finished hoping she hadn’t lost him in her explanation.

  He brought his hand to his chin, and the corner of his lips curled up. “He is one of my favorites as well, very thought provoking—a fellow Frenchman…and racy for his time, no?”

  “A little,” she agreed with a smile. She hoped she wasn’t blushing as the server returned with two mugs of coffee.

  The older woman set them down on the table, and Christophe stated with disappointment in his voice, “Oh, you are waiting for someone. I should have known. I noticed your ring, but I was hoping it was a family heirloom.”

  “No, I’m engaged,” Sarah confessed.

  “That is a tragedy. All the beautiful ones are always taken,” he stated, taking her hand and examining the ring. “You know the emeralds match your eyes,” he said, setting her hand back down and looking into her eyes.

  “I’ve been told that.” She giggled.

  “By your fiancé, I am sure. He is a very lucky man to have found you. Is the wedding soon?” he questioned.

  “Later this summer,” Sarah stated. She enjoyed talking to this man. He didn’t seem to have any clue her fiancé was a famous movie star, and that made her feel normal.

  “He should not leave you alone so long. We Frenchmen are very romantic and may steal you away from him,” he decla
red with a smile. Just then Nak approached the table with a look of concern on his face. Christophe excused himself by stating, “Oh, this must be your lucky groom. I best be leaving.” He winked at her as he got up from the table. “It was very nice meeting you, Sarah.” He looked forlorn over his shoulder at her as he walked away.

  “So, what did the French guy want?” asked Nak as he sat down in the chair across from her. He continued, “Is this mine?” He picked up the coffee and waited for her nod before taking a sip.

  “He was just being friendly. He noticed I had a journal,” she picked up her book and stuffed it back into her bag. “He had one too, and we were just talking about writing. The French are very assertive. He just sat down and started talking. He didn’t seem to know who I am, though. It was very innocent.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he knew exactly who you are. Don’t kid yourself.” Nak laughed as he set his coffee down. “This is good.” He paused and looked in the direction of the Frenchman’s exit. “Jon’s going to kill me for letting him near you.”

  “No, there was no mention of Jon. It was refreshing.” She took a sip from her mug.

  “Did he tell you he was a journalist for the Rendezvous? It’s similar to Vanity Fair.”

  Sarah shook her head.

  “He interviewed me on my last press tour in London. Christophe, right? He knew I recognized him. That’s why he disappeared so quickly…and I’m sure he knows you’re engaged to Jon. It’s his job. I hope you didn’t spill anything vital. He’s probably going to interview Jon right now.”

  “Seriously? I hate it when I read people wrong. I used to be such a good judge of character. Now, it seems like I’m always off.”

  “It gets easier. Eventually you won’t trust anyone.”

  “How do you live like that? I have to have people I can talk to. I’ll go crazy if I can’t confide in anyone. This thing with Liam and Megan almost killed me.” Liam was his roommate, so he had to have at least heard the story about Megan leaking Liam’s secrets to the press.

  “I didn’t say I couldn’t trust anyone. My life is very different from Jon’s. No one cares about me. The only time the press ever talks to me is when I have a movie coming out. When people do recognize me in the street, they’re like, ‘Don’t I know you from somewhere?’ Or they say, ‘You’re that guy from that movie, right?’ They don’t even know my name,” he stated. “What you and Jon have to go through blows me away.”

  “It doesn’t seem fair.”

  “What’s not fair about it? Jon makes a lot more money than I do. I’d love to be able to hire Leslie as my assistant, but she’s way out of my price range. He should have to put up with more.”

  Sarah drained the last of her coffee from the mug and looked up at Nak. “So it all comes down to money then?”

  “Not really. I just like to throw that out there. Jon is really talented. He is much better at talking to the press than I am. I’m a decent actor, but press tours don’t do me any favors. I can never think of the right comeback to the interviewer’s questions. I always sound like an idiot. Jon is smooth. He always has some funny story to tell the press. He looks like a hero. I’ll never be like that.”

  “He practices. He has his stories all figured out before he goes into the room. And those funny little stories he tells the press are starting to include me.” She chuckled. “It’s scary. I never know what he’s going to share with the world. My mom called me two months ago frantic because she heard I lost my engagement ring. I had only misplaced it…for about five minutes. I was trying to make meatballs, so I took it off because the recipe said to mix the ingredients with your hands and I didn’t want it to get all mucked up. After Jon mentioned it in an interview, there were bogus stories all over the Internet that he had to fly some jeweler in from Greece to make a duplicate because I was inconsolable. Jon didn’t even buy it in Greece, and I found it right away. It wasn’t lost.”

  “The press eats that up. They love any tidbit into Jon’s personal life.”

  “Yeah, so they can embellish it. I wonder what Christophe is going to say about me.”

  “Why? What did you talk about?”

  “Mostly about my writing, but he was definitely flirting with me.”

  Nak raised his eyebrows and looked at her questioningly.

  “I didn’t accept his invitation to spend the summer with him. I thought he was just joking, but he’ll probably say I was flirting with him. I wish I’d known he was a reporter.”

  “We could head back and catch his interview with Jon. We may be able to talk to Jon before the interview and let him know how the guy tricked you.”

  “No…It would just make Jon upset and probably ruin the rest of his interviews. I’ll tell him tonight when he’s done with the press. There’s nothing I can do to take back what I said anyway. Can we just stay here and enjoy the ocean view for a while?” Sarah flagged the server down and had just asked for some more coffee for her and Nak when Jon’s agent pulled a chair up to their table.

  Settling comfortably in his chair, he touched the waitress’s hand and ordered, “I’ll have a Coke.” He smiled at Sarah and added, “I didn’t think Jon let you out by yourself.”

  “I’m not by myself, Isaac. Daniel is here with me.” She glanced at Nak, annoyed by Isaac’s comment.

  “Oh…Nak? He’s a pussycat. You don’t mind if I talk to Sarah, do you?” He turned to Nak and then back to Sarah. “I want to talk to you because I know Jon listens to you.”

  She looked at him questioningly but held silent.

  “Let’s face it—this wedding is not good for Jon’s career, Sarah.”

  “Should we cancel it then?” she asked sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

  “Oh, that would be great. I knew you would understand.”

  “Isaac, how is our wedding not good for Jon’s career? It’s giving him all kinds of press exposure.”

  “Well, it’s not really the wedding. It’s you. And I have a list of reasons why, if you have some time.” He reached into his suit jacket, unfolded the paper from his pocket, and chuckled. “I don’t really have a list written out, but—”

  Sarah shook her head and thwarted him. “I know you don’t like me, and I know you don’t want Jon to get married, but you sought me out to ask me a favor…I’m listening.”

  “That’s not true. I would do anything for you, Sarah.”

  She interrupted, “Only because Jon loves me.” She stared at him and waited for him to continue.

  His face turned serious. “Jon has turned down the last four movie offers. I don’t understand it. The scripts were decent. The money was there…I think it’s because of you.”

  The server returned with their drinks, and Nak asked her for the bill in French. Sarah smiled at him, impressed, and then turned to address Isaac.

  “I don’t tell Jon what movies to sign. Maybe it was Leslie. She is in on all of Jon’s business decisions.” She glanced over to Nak, rolling her eyes again.

  “It’s you…He didn’t want to do the movies because there is too much nudity in them.”

  She studied Isaac’s face and confessed with a serious expression, “I like looking at Jon…naked. He’s got the cutest little heart-shaped birthmark right below his right butt cheek. It’s really tiny and is always in shadow on camera, but Jon says it was visible in a close-up on the preliminary Demigod Forbidden footage. I can’t wait to see if it makes the final cut.” She knew why Jon had turned the movies down, and it wasn’t her fault, so she wanted Isaac to know she couldn’t be manipulated.

  Nak snickered and turned it into a cough before taking a sip of his coffee.

  “You are amusing.” Isaac smiled snidely at her. “I think he’s worried that the sex scenes will upset you. I just want you to tell Jon it’s all right with you if he takes on a couple of love scenes here and there. He shouldn’t avoid them like the plague. They’re what made him a star, and now he just wants to abandon them?”

  “Isaac, you know that once Jon ge
ts something into his head, no one can change his mind.”

  “Just let him know it’s OK with you. He listens to you. It is OK, isn’t it? You do know it’s just acting, right?” he questioned condescendingly.

  She furrowed her eyebrows and declared, “I’ve never told him he can’t do love scenes. And I know it’s just his job. Jon takes the roles he wants, and right now he wants to find a serious role that shows off his acting ability. He’s tired of using his body to sell movies. He wants more. You saw what he can do at the premiere last night. Find him what he wants.” She looked at Isaac, who looked like he was in shock, and then she added, “I’m just telling you what Jon told me.”

  “And I’ll find him that perfect script, but he needs to keep his fan base happy by slipping a few sex scenes into the mix. They’re his bread and butter. All I’m asking is that you let him know it’s all right with you that he does the movies that pay the bills.”

  “I’ll let him know, but I can’t promise he’ll do them…So, I take it the meet and greet the other night with the director didn’t go well?”

  “Ehh…It’s too early to tell, but I don’t know if it’s the right role for Jon anyway. I think he can do better.”

  She smiled, understanding. That was Isaac’s way of admitting it hadn’t gone well. “We’re heading back to the press junket. You’re welcome to join us,” she said, glancing quickly to Nak and then back to Isaac. She was hoping Isaac would decline her invitation, but she didn’t want to be rude. She put spending the afternoon with him on the same level as spending the afternoon locked in a room with a high-pressure car salesman or a rabid pit bull. She knew he was a good agent and looked out for Jon’s best interest, but she did not want to hang out with him socially, especially without Jon. She stood up and pushed the heavy chair in to meet the table. The metal scraped against the cement in a loud squeal, and several restaurant patrons looked up startled by the noise. Nak rose too, not bothering with his chair, and set several euros on the table for the waitress.