Beauty and the Book Boyfriend

by K. M. Galvin

  “Babe-“

  “My car is paid off!” I yell at the top of my lungs.

  “Bellamy, those are all super things. Super! But, well, and don’t hate me-“

  Exhausted, I decide to lie down right where I am in the middle of the living room. “What?”

  “-well those are things. Really nice things. I mean, yes, this apartment is the tits.”

  “The nicest tits!” I agree, my fist lifting in the air in solidarity.

  “But nowhere in your list are social activities or guys or any mention of other people.”

  “People smeeple,” I grumble. “Who needs ‘em?”

  “Bell-“

  “Guys pies.” I roll over on my side. Sleep. That sounds good.

  “Bell. It’s ok. He’s an ass.”

  “Yes, much better. You’re back on track, keep going.”

  “But maybe he wasn’t wrong.”

  “You took a left turn somewhere, Natalie. Reroute.”

  “All of that’s going to change anyway. You’re going to travel the world, meet so many wonderful people, and experience all sorts of new things. Your life is about to change dramatically and for the better. So screw Caleb!”

  “I didn’t think my life was so bad now,” I admit softly, sitting up to look at her.

  Natalie’s entire face softens and she stumbles over to me for a hug. “Honey, there isn’t anything wrong with it if I knew it truly made you happy, but I know you’re lonely. You can feel it between the lines of your books. You are Makyla, remember? I know you well enough to figure out what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours.”

  “I’m not beautiful,” I protest, embarrassed.

  “Ok, you’re an ogre.” She laughs and gives me a kiss on my temple. “Go to bed, we have a lot to do tomorrow.”

  “Night.”

  “Buenas noches.”

  AFTER DAYS OF BASICALLY EVERY 90’s movie makeover montage, I’m loaded into an SUV with Nat, the Douchelord, and his assistant, Logan. My dear Susan will be flying out to the locations. Since I’m not her only client, Susan can’t waste the travel time in a car not working and the company can’t afford to fly everyone all over the country for the first leg of our tour. As a result, we are road tripping it across the U.S. of A.

  Europe is going to eat a huge chunk of the budget.

  But that’s weeks away, I remind myself, tamping down my frustration.

  Did I care that I was going to be stuck in the car with strangers, especially one that’s an apparent asshole, for hundreds of hours?

  How to answer without sounding like a diva…YES, I FUCKING CARED.

  I should have bought airline tickets for Natalie and myself, but she insists this will be fun.

  A road trip!

  Think of what we’ll see!

  How she’ll see anything is a mystery since she’s been asleep since before we pulled out of the damn driveway…

  But I digress.

  “So, Bellamy, are you excited to meet your fans? I know my man over here is,” Logan chuckles derisively before glancing at “his man” pouting in the passenger seat.

  Logan’s attractive, that is if you’re into absolutely stunning deep caramel skin tone, light blue eyes, and winning smile. Natalie certainly is. I thought she was going to jump him the minute she laid eyes on him.

  “Thrilled,” I mutter. “Not to be rude, Summer, but why do you have an assistant? You’re just the eye candy.”

  I glare at the back of his stupid head. When we met at the rendezvous point this morning, he acted like he didn’t recognize me from our first encounter. Talk about salt in the wound… unless he truly didn’t remember, in which case what an ass.

  “One… that’s incredibly rude,” Caleb begins, his voice husky from lack of use. “And two, Summer?”

  “She’s calling you a douche. Get it? Summer’s Eve,” Natalie suddenly pipes up from a now-apparent fake sleep. Traitor.

  “Look who’s awake? Sleeping Beauty.” I flick my fingers on her arm.

  “Sorry, Bell,” she laughs, straightening from her slouch and grabbing her phone.

  “We’ve got a Disney theme going on in this car. Caleb is obviously the Beast since he’s such a bastard. I’ll be Sebastian,” Logan pipes up from the driver seat.

  “The lobster?” Natalie laughs, leaning forward between the front seats.

  “Hell yeah! He’s the shit. He also has the best songs.” He hums one of those songs, earning a glare from the sourpuss.

  “That’s true,” Natalie concedes.

  “And to answer your question, Bell, he has an assistant to keep his ass in line. If he messes this job up, he’s done. Fired. Caput. Outta here. Hasta la vista. It’ll be for good. No more-“

  “Jesus, Logan, she gets it,” Caleb shouts, glaring at him yet somehow making it look high fashion. Ugh, even in anger his face is fit for the Gods.

  Too bad his personality belongs in Hell.

  “Oh, are you a bad boy, Caleb?” Natalie mocks. “Bell, look at me super quick.” I do and she snaps a photo.

  “What the hell?!” I cry, ducking my head in case she decides to take another.

  “You look hot, smirking in your shades. Very Makyla. I’m posting it to your Twitter and Instagram. Social Media, babe. It’s half the battle. Now, let’s get back to the fact that your leading man is hanging onto his career by a thread.”

  “I like you, you’re a hot shit,” Logan states, grinning at her in the rearview mirror.

  “Don’t encourage her,” I say at the same time Caleb says, “Shut up, man.”

  We glare at each other and I have to bite my lip to keep from saying something childish.

  “He’s well-known for being a pain in the ass to work with. The jobs he’s able to get are becoming less and less. Doesn’t matter if you have a pretty face, if you’re a bitch, you get fired. Even in the modeling world.”

  “Fascinating. So you need us more than we need you.” I’m smug. I can’t help it.

  “I think we need each other pretty equally,” Caleb counters.

  “How is that?” I ask sarcastically.

  “Honey, you’re anti-social as hell. I looked you up. Or tried to. Who do you think you are? J.D. Salinger with your reclusive ass? At least I can fake a good attitude. Modeling is just as much acting as it is looking good. Can you even interact with someone without going into a full sweating panic?”

  “You don’t know me, and if I was any recluse it would be Emily Dickinson,” I correct indignantly.

  “Anyone can read body language and yours reads ‘leave me alone, I don’t like you.’ Let’s not forget you throwing your tampons at me the first time we met.”

  Ha! So he did remember me. Jackass.

  “How do you suppose we help each other out, Beast?” Natalie asks before I can launch an attack.

  “First, you can stop calling me that. He was a hairy monster and I’m clearly not.” He waves at himself, smirking. I look at Natalie and mime gagging.

  “Yes, good for you. You know how to shave your chest.” I roll my eyes.

  “Someone missed the moral of that story,” Natalie whispers to me, and I fight a laugh. Clearly.

  “Two, you need to loosen up. Get out more. I can help you do that.”

  “In exchange for what? Putting up with your shitty attitude and lying to your bosses?” I snipe.

  “Well… yeah.” He turns towards me with a genuine grin and my heart stalls. It lights up his entire face, and for a second, it’s Max smiling at me and not this rat bastard Caleb.

  I blink and the grin is gone. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Caleb asks.

  “Shut up. Fine. I know I have to become… more approachable. I’m not used to…” I break eye contact with him and blow out a breath before looking out the window. “I’m not used to being around a lot of people. Traveling. Doing anything like this. I agree I could use some help. I don’t want to disappoint anyone, especially my fans.”

  Natalie grabs my
hand. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Bellamy.”

  “I could be better, Natalie. I owe it to those who’ve supported me from the beginning,” I whisper.

  “Ah-hem!” Logan clears his throat loudly.

  Caleb looks over at him and waits.

  Logan bangs his head against the headrest, “Bro, seriously?”

  “What?” Caleb gripes.

  “You need this job. The agency is so ready to drop your ass and if you have the smallest hope of getting the Calvin Klein account you better smarten the hell up.”

  Caleb stews, nostrils flaring before briefly making eye contact with me, “Fine. I can do better, too. I’ll try not to piss you off enough to get me fired.”

  Natalie and I sit in complete silence as Logan mumbles under his breath in exaberation.

  He coughs, clearly uncomfortable, “Can someone say something? I’m fucking making an effort here.”

  This is what he thinks making an effort is? Jesus.

  “Ah, I see why she calls you Summer,” Logan teases the pissy man baby next to him, “it’s because you’re clearly a chick.”

  “Oh my God. You’re such a dick!” Natalie cries, punching him in the arm.

  “Woman, I am driving!”

  “He’s a bigger man than you,” she argues.

  “Please, you can’t possibly know that. You haven’t seen either of us naked.” He scoffs and laughs hysterically when she punches him again.

  I shake my head at their antics, glad they took the attention off the two socially inept idiots in the car. I glance at Caleb’s profile, studying him more closely. Though I still hate his stupid superior guts, I understand him a little more.

  Maybe I can hate him a little less.

  Four hours later, I’m convinced I will dance at his funeral. He argues every single thing. Everything! The music we collectively choose suddenly annoys him. The volume is too loud. It’s too bright in the car, we are talking too loud, he’s too cold, he’s hungry, he refuses to eat at chain restaurants, he needs to pee but only at toilets rated four or higher stars on this bathroom review app… it goes on and on.

  “Please. I’m begging you,” I whimper desperately to Natalie, but she smiles at me, oblivious to his highnesses demands with her noise cancelling headphones. I turn to the other victim. “Logan, shut him up. Please. How are you not driving us into oncoming traffic?”

  Logan glances in the rearview and winks. “Used to it, little Bell. It’s all white noise to me now, which only makes him crazier. He’s like a toddler having a tantrum. Needs attention.”

  “Then parent his ass because I’m about to jump out of this vehicle.”

  “Stop talking about me like I’m not right here,” Caleb grunts.

  “You just have to pretend he doesn’t exist, Bellamy.”

  “If he doesn’t shut the hell up soon, I’m stapling his fucking mouth shut,” I growl and glare at his stupid chiseled profile. I wish I knew how to throw a punch just so I could imagine it accurately. Really luxuriate in the fantasy of cracking one across that cut jawline.

  “She’s staring at me pretty hard, Logan. Think she wants it?” Caleb grins.

  “Bro, the only thing she wants is to shove her fist so far up your ass the only time you speak again is when she throws her voice and moves her hand. Like a macabre ventriloquist.” Logan smiles huge, clearly loving the idea.

  “Very elaborate and graphic. Fine, I’ll lay off. Ok, little psycho?” He glances at me over his shoulder and I snarl.

  “Have you always been such a terrible person? Where are your redeemable qualities? Cause I have to tell you, when your beauty fades and all that’s left is this selfish, vain, boring boy, I don’t think you’re going to find yourself grinning so much.”

  His smile vanishes instantly and something akin to hurt dances so quickly over his features I’m positive I imagined it, but he turns around in his seat before I can study him further.

  “You know… these next couple months are going to be very long if you can’t find something to like about one another. I suggest you do so fast because you need to sell the characters you’re embodying. Newsflash, you two, they love each other,” Logan says quietly.

  Easier said than done.

  “YOU NEED TO SPEND TIME together,” Natalie advises, echoing Logan as she unpacks the necessities from her suitcase. We arrived in Charleston, South Caroline around dinnertime and immediately split up to our rooms.

  “As Makyla I do,” I agree.

  “No, as Bellamy. Because Bellamy is Makyla… at least for the next few months she is. Listen, I have a conference call in thirty with Susan and then I’m heading to speak with the event coordinator to go over the convention details. I need to know what room we’re in, if our swag arrived, blah blah blah. I’m meeting Logan for dinner later to go over the schedules for the weekend. Go do something with that insanely hot model.”

  “Hard pass.”

  She huffs and marches over to yank on my ponytail. “You’re incredibly frustrating, but you pay me a lot of money so I forgive you.” She slaps my thigh and jumps up from my bed. “Ok, I’m going to earn my paycheck. At least get something to eat. I’ll talk to you later.”

  I stare at the door she slams before getting up to unpack my pajamas. Makyla’s clothes were already unpacked and hanging up in the closet… not that they needed to be hung up. I don’t think leather and latex wrinkle.

  Grimacing, I try to remember I created the character and the wardrobe. She’s a warrior who owns her sexuality. I’m a hermit who wears sweaters to bed and themed socks.

  How in the hell am I going to pull this off?

  A knock sounds at the door and I freeze, hoping whoever it is goes away.

  “Bellamy, open the door. I know your loser ass is holed up in here.” His voice is muffled by the door, but I can still recognize Caleb’s terrible self.

  I stalk over and rip it open. “What do you want, Ken?”

  He rolls his eyes and shoulders past me. “Enough with the names. I’m not a Ken doll.”

  “Stop calling me a lonely loser, then, you dick.” I follow him as he peruses through my small room.

  “Fine.” He turns towards me and holds out his hand for me to shake.

  “What, no spit?” I mock.

  “If you want to swap spit, Bellamy, I’ve got a better way to do it than a handshake.” His eyes smolder as he says this, making my idiotic heart stutter in my chest. Then I remember what he does for a living. This is probably the face he uses to launch a thousand relaxed slacks or deodorant.

  “Don’t put the moves on me… wait, what’s your last name?”

  “Pace.” He smirks.

  “Don’t put the moves on me, Pace.”

  Caleb nods, his eyes flicking around the room again, taking in the organized chaos: my writing station set up on my bed, the twenty or so books I brought with me stacked on the nightstand, snacks, and tour shit everywhere… including a giant cardboard cut out of the two of us in the corner.

  “Creepy.” He goes to stand next to his cardboard self and mimics his pose, laughing, before moving in front of me as Makyla. I try not to fidget, inwardly cursing.

  I hated having to do that stupid shoot, but it was necessary for all the bookmarks, shirts, info cards, posters, etc…

  I roll my eyes at his blatant appraisal because… how typical.

  I’m in a black latex jumpsuit, so what else was he supposed to do? Little did he know it took about two bottles of baby powder to contain the sweat, tape to get my cleavage looking that perky, and no less than three people to squeeze me into this thing. And yeah, my naturally wavy black hair was teased to hell and back making it look like I had… well, hot sex, jumped on a motorcycle, stood in front of a fan, and then did a few hair flips.

  I didn’t look natural; I didn’t look like me.

  Which I guess is the point because this girl is not Bellamy. This girl looks ready to fuck you and slit your throat after she comes. She’s Makyla.


  “Look at you!” he laughs, sticking a thumb over his shoulder at the two of us.

  Hands on hips, I huff, “What do you want, Caleb?”

  He sighs and takes a seat on my bed, instantly making me uncomfortable. Anywhere else would have been preferable. There are three chairs in this room for God’s sake, but he chooses my bed.

  I grit my teeth, barely leashing the need to stand by the door and hover there like a good Southerner politely yet passively aggressively telling you to get the hell out.

  “Let’s go do something. Logan ditched me for your girl and I’m bored.”

  “They didn’t ditch us, they’re working.”

  “I’m still bored. Let’s do something! I’ve never been here. Come on, you’ve been researching this place since we were an hour away from here. There has to be something that interested you.”

  I narrow my eyes. “How do you know that?”

  “I asked Natalie why you were glued to your phone. She told me you were checking out stuff to do here. I nearly collapsed in shock. I thought hermits didn’t go out.”

  “It’s not going out,” I mumble. “I thought-“ I break off, blushing.

  Caleb grins. “Come on, Bell. What crazy idea is brewing in that mind of yours?”

  “Ok, slow down because my crazy and your crazy are miles apart. And don’t call me Bell. Also, stop smiling.” He rolls his eyes and flips me off.

  I grab my tablet off the table and unlock the screen to show him the tour I’m interested in. Handing it over, I bite my lip and wait for him to laugh at me.

  “You want to go on a haunted pub crawl?”

  “Yeah, I mean, maybe? I think it’ll be cool. We can see the city, meet some locals, and get in the mood of the books. I don’t know. I’m trying to get out of my comfort zone. Challenge number one, you know? I was hoping Natalie would go, but if you want to…” I trail off equally mortified and hopeful.

  I dislike him, but I want to be his friend—need to be his friend—because we have to sell this and I need to get the hell out of this box I put myself in. Maybe having a bad boy model for a friend would do the trick?