by Maree Green
Opening the camera, I turned and took a selfie, making sure the girl was clearly in the shot over my shoulder. Then I took another one, holding up the pen I was stealing from her. Then I got Corey to take another one on his cell. It would make for a good Instagram shot later.
Passing her cell back to her, I gave her a wink. “Do you mind if I put that on my Instagram, Sally?”
Tears spilled down her cheeks. “No.”
I was sure I just made her day. “Thank you.”
Knowing time was slipping away, I turned my attention to the next girl. She had a promo picture for Willow’s Way pressed up against the fence. I liked it when they made my life easier like that. Scrawling my signature over it, I quickly moved to the next and the next, signing whatever was easy to get to.
“Is it true, Joshua?” one girl asked, sobbing. “Did you and Hannah Bryant get married?”
I laughed. “You shouldn’t believe everything you read, girls,” I said, continuing to scrawl. “Hannah and I tied knots in pieces of rope. We didn’t tie the matrimonial knot.” Squeals and cries almost deafened me. “You should follow me on Twitter instead of reading that crap.”
“I do!” another girl cried. “I follow you on Twitter, Joshua!”
“Then you would’ve seen the awesome knot I made,” I yelled, chuckling at the memory of my pathetic attempt.
“I love you, Joshua!” a young, dark-haired girl sobbed.
“I love you too,” I said, trying to sign a T-shirt without much success.
Corey stepped up beside me and coughed. “We need to go, man.”
I sighed. I hadn’t even gotten to a tenth of them. “Sorry, Ladies. The plane’s waiting. If you can come back tomorrow, I’ll try to stay a little longer,” I said, meaning it. They were all a key to my success, after all.
Tucking my new pen into my pocket, I let Corey usher me away, giving them another wave before boarding the plane. The stewardess smiled at me and fluttered her eyelashes as soon as I stepped inside. “Good afternoon, Mr. Emerson. Welcome aboard. Is there anything I can get you before we depart?”
My gaze flashed to her name badge politely. What I wanted was to sit down and relax. I was tired of being Joshua Emerson, the movie star. I missed being me. I missed Liv.
Putting on my best smile, I rubbed my hand over the back of my neck. “Thanks, Melanie, but I’m fine for now.”
Taking a seat, I clicked my seat belt into place and closed my eyes. It was time to get my shit together and get on with life.
Chapter 45
Olivia
Standing back, I looked up at the massive bunch of oversize balloons and bit my lip. “Just a little to the left and it’ll be perfect,” I called up to Sam.
From the top of the ladder, Sam wrestled the balloons to the left a couple of inches. “Good?”
“Awesome!” Turning around, I assessed the rest of the room. It had only been two days ago that Aunt Jenny had contacted me, asking if I’d be willing to help her out with a little decorating for some launch after party. ‘A little’ had been a slight understatement. The room was huge, and so were the number of decorations. It had taken ten of us to get it finished on time. Looking around, I wondered if this was what Aunt Jenny had wanted. “What do you think?” I asked Sam.
She gazed around with scrutiny from her perch on the ladder. “I think it looks good.”
I was just considering going to fetch Aunt Jenny for her approval, when the door swung open and she appeared. Her eyes widened. “Oh, wow. This looks amazing, guys. Awesome job!”
“Are you sure it’s what you wanted?” I asked, biting my lip.
“It’s perfect, precious,” she said, coming to squeeze me in a one-armed hug. Then she thrust a bag into my stomach. “Now, go get changed.”
I frowned. “What’s this?”
She winked. “That is what you’re wearing tonight.”
Giving her a deadpan look, I sighed and tried to pass it back. “I brought a change of clothes.”
Her returning look was full of sarcasm. “Does it involve denim?’
I smirked. “Maybe.”
With lips pressed together, she blinked, long and slow. “Okay, unless said denim involves four-inch pumps and a slinky blouse, you’re wearing what I bought you.”
Huffing, I looked up to the ceiling. “Really?”
“Really. Now, go get changed. The both of you. And I hope you’re more girly than Liv is, Sam.”
Sam smirked. “Oh, I am.”
Heading to the room Aunt Jenny had us store our bags in, Sam locked it while I assessed what it was I was expected to wear. As soon as I pulled out the glittery, silver dress, Sam gasped. “Oh my God, Liv. It’s gorgeous.”
It kind of was. It was relatively short—maybe mid-thigh length—and had little capped sleeves and a plunging neckline. It looked sexy as hell.
“What else did she give you?”
Checking the bag, I pulled out a shoe box and something wrapped in tissue paper.
Sam ripped the box out of my hands, her eyes almost popping out of her head. “Jesus, Liv. She gave you Jimmy Choos? What the hell?”
I peered inside, to see a pair of silver strappy heels. I had no idea how she expected me to walk in them. I hadn’t exactly worn heels before. And these were like four inches. Opening the tissue paper, I found a pair of lacy panties, the material softer than I’d ever felt on anything before.
Placing the items on a chair, I sat down and chewed on my lip. “It feels wrong, Sam. I can’t wear this stuff, knowing there are people out there struggling to find enough food to feed their families, let alone new clothes to wear. I mean, we work for a magazine that promotes the damn United World Aid Group, for crying out loud. I feel like a freaking hypocrite.”
Sam sighed and knelt on the floor in front of me. “I know. But the world is one big contradiction, babe. For us to do what we want to do, we need the support of the rich. It’s their contributions that keep us going and able to provide for those people. And that means we have to mingle with them in their habitat. I know this party isn’t for WAM, but it’s the same concept, really. And if I see anyone worth talking to about U-WAG’s cause tonight, you can bet everything that I will be on it in a flash.”
She was right. If I could convince even one person to get involved or donate in some way, then it would be worth it. Straightening my shoulders, I steeled myself. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
Sam grinned from ear to ear and jumped up with an excited clap. “Can I do your makeup?”
Crap. I hadn’t thought about that. I guessed I couldn’t go as far as dressing in sparkles and not wear makeup. “As long as it’s simple,” I said.
“You’ll love it,” was her only reply.
Stripping, I slipped on the underwear Aunt Jenny had bought me and carefully shimmied into the dress. I hated to admit it, but it felt incredibly nice. Until I looked down. “Oh my God! I can’t wear this. My boobs are about to fall out.”
Sam laughed, half into her own dress. “They are not. That’s the way it’s supposed to look. It looks great. You’ve got amazing boobs. Show them off.”
I worried at my lip. “I think it’s too short, Sam.”
“Oh, trust me,” she said. “It’s really not. I’d tell you if it was. Just make sure you cross your legs if you sit, and if you have to bend down, bend at the knees.” She smothered a giggle at my horrified expression. “Don’t think, Liv. I promise I wouldn’t steer you wrong.”
I turned and looked at myself in the mirror. Again, she was right. What the hell did I care anyway? I wasn’t trying to make a statement. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone or get anyone’s attention. And I wasn’t seeking anyone’s approval. If it felt nice to wear, then why shouldn’t I?
Slipping on the heels, I raised each foot up on a chair in turn, and fastened the clasp into place, then I turned around to face Sam with my arms out by my sides for show.
She scrunched her nose up and shrugged. “Meh, it’ll do.”
&
nbsp; Reaching for the nearest cushion, I threw it at her in mock indignation.
Ducking my horrid throw, she laughed and started working on her makeup. “Walk around and make sure you’re not going to trip over before we go any further. Those are some serious heels for someone who hasn’t worn any before.”
“Tell me about it.” I did as I was told, striding from one side of the room to the other. They actually weren’t too bad. The inner soles were surprisingly soft and comfortable, making them quite easy to walk in without feeling like I had a stick up my bottom.
“You’re a natural,” Sam said, gazing at me through her mascara strokes. “Okay, sit your butt in the chair so I can do something about your ugly.”
For the next twenty minutes, I sat perfectly still, opening and closing my eyes and mouth when directed, fighting the urge to argue with her about how much she seemed to be doing. It took more control than I thought possible to stop myself from checking in the mirror every couple of minutes.
Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, she took a step back. “Okay, I’m done.” I blinked and went to go straight to the mirror. “Wait! What are you going to do with your hair?”
I frowned. It was currently in a bun. As it had been all day. “Um . . . nothing. I was just going to wear it down.”
“Okay. Hang on, then. Take it out.”
As I took out the elastic tie, I watched her rummage in her bag, emerging with a tube of something.
She squirted a little into her palm and rubbed her hands together, looking over my hair. “Just run your fingers through it for me.”
I did as she asked, and then she started fluffing it with her hands, blending the cream or whatever it was through the strands. When she was done, she stood back and assessed me, her head cocked to the side. “Does it look okay?” I asked, nerves tingling.
Taking a step back, she gestured to the mirror. “Take a look.”
Stepping forward, I turned and caught my first look at the finished product. “Whoa.”
The dress and shoes, as I already knew, were beautiful. My hair wasn’t too much different to how I wore it when I could be bothered to do something nice to it. My face, though. That was different. Way different. She’d mostly done what I’d asked her to do, and kept it pretty simple. My cheekbones and lips were only colored with the softest of pinky peaches. It was my eyes that I was having a hard time accepting. And maybe my eyebrows, because I could actually see them now. I wasn’t anywhere near up to date with makeup terms, but I was pretty sure this was what people called smoky eyes.
“Whoa,” I said again.
“You don’t like it,” Sam said, sounding defeated.
“I do,” I said, my voice only a little unsure. “It looks nice. I’m just not used to seeing myself looking this way.” I didn’t say it, but I wasn’t sure I was comfortable going out looking this way.
A knock sounded on the door, and Aunt Jenny’s muffled voice came through the gap. “How does the dress fit?”
Sam looked at me. “If your aunt doesn’t like it, I’ll change it. All right?”
I drew in a deep breath. “All right.”
I held my breath as Sam opened the door and stood to the side to let her in. As soon as her gaze found me, her mouth fell open. “Holy shit, Liv. You look amazing. Damn.”
I exhaled. “It’s not too much? The eyes, I mean?”
She shook her head, looking a little dazed. “Hell, no.”
Sam clapped, but when I glared at her, she smothered her grin with her hand.
Aunt Jenny shook her head again. “You both look beautiful.”
With a cock of her hip, Sam flipped her hair. “Are you ready, Liv? Let’s go get this party started.”
Nerves still tingled in my gut, but Sam’s excitement was a little contagious. Lifting my chin, I gave them both a confident smile. “I’m ready.”
Chapter 46
Josh
Seated on the edge of the armchair, I watched the massive flat-screen intently, moving my character slowly, gun raised, ready to shoot. Behind me, voices mingled, laughing and teasing as they watched Troy Sutherland, my costar in Willow’s Way, and me fight it out in the game version of the movie.
It took me a little while to get used to playing a character who looked so scarily like me, and even longer still to get my head around the sound of my own voice accompanying him.
Moving my avatar around a corner, I only had a split second before Troy pounced, his character jumping up from behind a barrier and shooting at me. I pressed the buttons quickly, making mine throw himself to the ground and roll, before aiming and shooting wildly. Troy’s screen splattered dramatically with blood before both our screens closed, announcing me the winner.
Applause and laughter erupted around us. Troy and I chuckled, handing our controllers over and shaking hands. I had to admit, I was pretty impressed. When they originally announced they’d be making a game of Willow’s Way, I was skeptical it could be done, but having just played the first scene, I was willing to concede it was pretty awesome. The guys and I would definitely be playing the complimentary copy they’d given me.
Even though the success of the game had nothing to do with me really—other than the royalty I’d make from it—I still hoped it did well when it released at midnight. It was, after all, an extension of a brand I was connected to.
One of the game’s executives came forward—Jeremy, if I remembered right. “Excellent shot, Joshua,” he said, delight shining in his eyes. “You’re a natural.”
Troy rolled his eyes. “It was all ass, man.”
I smirked at him. “Yeah, you tell yourself that. It might help you sleep at night.”
Jeremy rubbed his hands together. “Anyway, on behalf of Abstract Games, I’d like to thank both of you for joining us tonight. It’s been awesome watching you both have so much fun with the game. We have high expectations for it,” he said, a slight sheen of sweat covering his forehead. “We’ll be taking the party next door in a few minutes, and would love for you to join us if you can.”
I wasn’t exactly keen to socialize too much more tonight, but seeing as I was staying upstairs, I knew it wouldn’t hurt for me to at least mingle for an hour or so. Picking up a glass of water, I gestured for Troy to lead the way with a grin.
“If you’re thinking we’re going to have another night like Vancouver, I’m not sure I’m going to be able to keep up,” he said as we started following people to the next room.
Lowering my head, I laughed. “If I didn’t have to be on set tomorrow afternoon, I’d challenge you to that.”
“How’s it going over there, anyway?”
I nodded with excitement. “Really good, actually. Steven’s awesome to work with.”
As we moved into the room, we took a moment to appreciate the setup. The lights were turned down low, music was pumping courtesy of a DJ stationed at the far end of the room, and the atmosphere was pure fun. The party seemed like it was in full swing, with a dozen or so people already out on the dance floor.
“How are you finding Hannah to work with?” Troy asked, collecting a drink from a drifting server.
We made our way through the bodies to the other side, closer to the dance floor. “She’s been all right so far. She’s pushing for exposure, though,” I said, giving him a dry look.
Troy chuckled into his drink. “Of course she is. You’re hot property at the moment. She wants a piece of it.”
“That’s the thing, though, isn’t it?” I said, watching the action on the floor. “It’s not so easy trying to figure out who’s real and who just wants a piece of you.”
“Ain’t that the truth.”
Taking a drink, I watched some guys on the dance floor, homing in on a couple of girls dancing in the middle. I could see why they were drawn to them. Both girls were pretty hot. One was tall and curvy with short brown hair and sultry lips, painted red, and the other was a little smaller, with long, blonde hair that fell down her back in waves. She seemed
to be the one the guys were drawn to most, with her short, silver dress that hugged her in all the right places, and matching four-inch heels that made her long, tanned legs seem like they went on forever. She was the epitome of sexy.
As she swung her hips to the music, slowly turning her body to the side, one of the guys put his hands on her, moving in closer. I watched with amusement, waiting to see what she would do, and when she stepped away, shaking her head at him, I had to bite down my laugh. The dude should’ve known better. I couldn’t see her face to be sure, but I was pretty sure she was out of his league. Hell, she was probably out of my league too.
The guy didn’t give up, though. He didn’t try to touch her again, but he stayed close, trying to draw her attention. It was a train wreck, really. I should’ve looked away, but there was something about her that made me want to keep watching.
As she and her friend continued to dance, slowly trying to distance themselves from the guys, they started to rotate so her friend would end up closer to them instead. It was a classic move. One I’d seen all too often, but I didn’t mind. At least this way I’d get a chance to see what she looked like.
I watched her step around, her hair falling over her face, then she laughed, her hand brushing her long, silky tresses back over her shoulder, and the smile fell clean off my face.
Before I knew what I was doing, I was moving forward. I vaguely heard Troy laugh behind me, but I was too lost in shock to care. I had to be seeing things. There was no way Liv could be here, like this.
My gaze didn’t stray from her face as I made my way across the dance floor. It was her. It had to be. She looked the same, but so very different. Her body turned, facing away from me again, her hips swaying side to side. My throat tightened.
As I moved behind her, her friend looked up, her eyes widening when she saw who I was. Placing a hand softly on her hip, I extended my glass of water around her until it was where she could see it. As expected, she leaned away from my touch, turning to face me, her mouth opened, I presumed ready to tell me to fuck off.