by Julia London
And now—in light of what had happened between them in the last week, it seemed like a stupid extravagance. The day he had taken the playbill to the engraver, he thought they had a chance. Now, he wasn’t so sure.
So he left the package in the trunk of his car, unwilling to bare his heart just to have her reject it. And he stayed in the office most of the day, working on the last-minute details before they moved the operation to Washington for filming.
At the end of the day, after the rehearsals and meetings had ended, the T.A. guys were all in the office finishing up when the door burst open and Marnie Banks, Eli’s girlfriend, came barreling through. Her arms were full of wet gear, which she dumped on the floor between them before putting her hands to her hips and glaring at Eli. “Is that it? Because this gopher has a wedding to work this weekend and no time to be running all over town doing T.A.’s bidding.”
Eli grinned, got up from his chair, sauntered over to Marnie, planted a big kiss on her lips, and said, “Thanks, baby.”
Marnie instantly softened. “You’re welcome,” she said with a pretty smile, and cozied up to Eli, returning his kiss with one that prompted Cooper to tell them to get a room.
Marnie stepped back and surveyed the office. “This place is a pigsty,” she announced cheerfully. “And who needs the wet suits, anyway? It’s the hottest summer on record.”
“Tamara,” Jack said with a weary sigh. “That chick carries more aggravation in one hundred pounds than all the women I’ve ever dated rolled up together.”
“All the women you ever dated? Who’s that, your prom date and this new girl Lindsey?”
Jack glared at Eli. “Thanks. Thanks a lot, Eli. Why don’t you just borrow a bullhorn from the director and announce it to the entire cast?”
“What makes you think I haven’t?” Eli asked stoically.
“Everyone knows it anyway, Jack,” Marnie said with an airy flick of her wrist. “But what’s this about Tamara? I thought Eli said the women were really working together as a team.”
“They are,” Eli confirmed. “They’ve really come around, and I think we’ve got a group of women that could really kick some ass. I’ll be the first to admit I didn’t think that was possible when we started this gig.”
“You and me both,” Jack snorted. “I’ve never had a worse crew to train in my life. Remember? There was all the talking and the phones and whining. Jesus, it was torture.”
“Yep,” Cooper said, leaning back and putting his hands behind his head, “we’ve definitely whipped this group into shape. Those women have probably never been in better shape in their lives.”
“And they owe it all to you guys, huh?” Marnie asked, hands on hips. “TA has once again improved the lives of dozens just by showing up to work.”
“Hey. We did get them in shape,” Jack protested.
“They’re professional actresses, Hercules. They are trained to adopt the persona of the roles they are going to play.”
Before anyone could argue, Marnie whirled around to Michael, who immediately tried to look busy to avoid her gaze. There was one thing a person quickly learned about Marnie—if you got on her radar screen, it was hard to get off.
As if to prove his point, Marnie marched the two steps she needed to reach his side. “So, Romeo,” she said, tapping his shoulder. “How’s it going?”
“Great, Marnie. Great,” he said, and tried to turn around to his computer, but Marnie plunked herself down on the desk, blocking his view of the screen.
“Really? You don’t look so great. You look sort of grumpy.”
Somewhere behind him, someone snickered.
“Okay,” he said, smiling up at Marnie. “Someone around here has a big mouth. Based on what transpired earlier, I’m going to guess Eli,” he said, slanting the cowboy a look. “But you don’t need to worry about me, sweetheart. I’ve got it all under control,” he said, and gave her a wink.
“Oh really? Well, then, I’ll leave you alone. I won’t tell you that she just stomped past the window here and didn’t even look to see if you were inside.”
Much to the delight of his partners, Michael instantly jerked around and craned his neck to see out the window.
“Well hell, I never thought I’d see the day the Extreme Bachelor would be the guy wondering what to do next,” Eli drawled.
“Oh, honey, don’t be so hard on him. Everyone needs a helping hand now and again,” Marnie said, casually studying her cuticle.
Michael stood up, grabbed his bag, and slung it over his shoulder. “I’d love to stay and chat about how badly I’ve screwed this up, but I’ve got something I need to do.”
“Wait!” Marnie cried, reaching up and brushing the hair from his eyes. “Oh wow,” she sighed. “You are a handsome man.”
Michael chucked her playfully on the chin and walked out as Eli protested that he didn’t appreciate Marnie fawning all over Mike, while Marnie laughed and assured him that she loved only him.
Michael didn’t hear the rest—he had to run a little to catch up to Leah, who was indeed stomping along at a clip. But he caught her, just before she went out the gate to the parking lot.
“Oh, hi, Michael,” she said, and pushed a hand through her hair, but the blond locks just fell back again. “I didn’t know you were here today.”
“I’m here,” he said, and pushed open the gate for her. “How was your day?”
“The usual. Lots of running around. How was yours?”
“Boring. Empty. Tedious.”
Thankfully, Leah laughed a little.
“Maybe we could take a walk?” he suggested.
“Ah . . .” Leah paused, shoved a paper bag under her arm as she looked toward the parking lot, debating it. “I’m not sure . . .”
This was beginning to feel so heavy. Just like when he was a kid, a stupid little geek trying to get the cute girl to look at him, almost to the point of begging. “No problem,” he said instantly. “Just thought I’d ask.” He smiled and started walking toward his car.
“Michael, wait,” Leah said.
He slowed down and turned around so that Leah could catch up to him and walk beside him.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said tentatively.
Thinking, dammit. Never a good sign.
“And I was thinking that maybe I should date other people. I mean, while I’m dating you. You know, just sort of date around and make sure . . .”
Her voice trailed off, and Michael stopped cold, mid-stride, to stare at her in disbelief. How had everything gone so far south so quickly? What the hell had he done, other than push Nicole away and do his friend Jack a favor? “Make sure of what?” he demanded.
“I don’t honestly know what,” she admitted with a light shrug. “I just think maybe it will help me get my head on straight.”
Now she was just pissing him off. “Get your head on straight? I didn’t realize there was a problem with your head.”
“Why are you taking such a tone with me?”
“Why are you making such a big deal out of a couple of women with more imagination than common sense?”
“Okay,” Leah said, shifting her weight to one hip, waving her hand. “See, this is exactly why I think I should date other people. You are getting upset because I am not falling right into line with what you want, and the more I think of it, the more I think you have always been like that.”
“Don’t tell me what I’ve always been like,” he snapped. “You didn’t even know who I really was until a few weeks ago.”
Leah gasped. “And whose fault was that?”
“So what—you, who claim to be dateless and sadly single for the last few years, are suddenly going to waltz out there and start dating?” he asked, throwing his arm at the out there.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Yes, I may start dating. I just happen to have one lined up, as a matter of fact.”
“Right,” he snorted. “Who is that? Brad?” he asked, knowing full well it was a low blow
and not caring.
Her expression assured him that it was indeed a low blow. “What does it matter, anyway?” she snapped.
“It doesn’t, Leah. But I guess since you know every woman I’ve ever dated or even thought about dating, it’s only fair that I get to play that game, too.”
“You have no right to be such an ass about this, Michael. You’re constantly making moon eyes at some chick—for all I know, you’ve done all of them.”
He was getting seriously annoyed with the conversation. “And you’ve been living in a convent?” he snapped.
“No,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “Frankly, I don’t owe you any explanation at all, but if you must know, his name is Adolfo, and—”
“Adolfo?” he all but shouted.
“Yes, Adolfo.”
Michael put his bag down. “Where is Adolfo from?”
“What?” Leah exclaimed.
“Mexico?”
A shout of incredulous laughter escaped her. “What—are you prejudiced?” she asked in disbelief. “You know, you’re right, Michael—I don’t know you. I always thought you were an enlightened kind of guy, and I never thought you’d be the type—”
“Come on, Leah. Is he American? Mexican-American? Mexican? Spanish, maybe?”
“I didn’t ask him, because it doesn’t matter. He’s just a nice guy, and he’s been very nice to me, and I may go out with him.”
Michael groaned, pushed his hands through his hair, turned full circle, then faced Leah again, his hands on his hips, his jaw clenched shut.
Leah stepped back.
“Okay. Do what you need to do,” he said flippantly, and reached in his pocket, pulled out his keys, and pushed the remote button to open his car.
“Oh-kay,” Leah said, sounding uncertain. “Thanks. I will.”
He walked to the trunk, punched the button so it would pop open, and with no fanfare, he pulled out the gift bag and held it out to Leah.
“What . . . what is that?” she asked suspiciously.
“A gift for you, what else?” he said petulantly. “You can take it or leave it, whatever you want.”
“Michael, please don’t be like this.”
He would be however he wanted to be. He was tired of trying to persuade her. “So do you want it?” he asked, shaking it impatiently at her.
Clearly exasperated, she thrust the sack she held toward him. “Hold it, will you?” she asked, and took the bag he held out.
Michael took the small sack in exchange. It felt like it held a picture frame. “What’s this?” he asked, as she untied the bow around the handles of his gift bag.
“It’s just a picture,” she muttered. Michael opened the sack and took the picture out. “Hey!” Leah protested, but he ignored her and stared down at a framed picture of her smiling brilliantly, dressed in camouflage. It looked like some of the still shots the studio had done one day when they were fitting costumes.
“Where’d you get it?” he asked.
She snorted, yanked the handles of his gift bag apart. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Adolfo gave it to me.” She plunged her hand inside, pulled out the tissue-wrapped engraved playbill, unwrapped it, and studied it for a minute. “Oh my God,” she said, a smile lighting her face as she stood up. “Oh dear God.” She looked up at him, her eyes glimmering. “How did you get it?”
“I saw that play,” Michael grudgingly admitted. “Before you even knew I was interested in you.”
“Michael . . .”
But he was stung at the picture this Adolfo-character had taken, put in a very cheap and simple frame. Next to that picture, his gift looked like something a Casanova might come up with. Yet that’s what he was—a Casanova. A guy who jumped from woman to woman, always surprised and delighted to be adored once again, never settling in for the work a true relationship required.
He suddenly felt like a fool. In frustration, he thrust the picture at her. Leah took it awkwardly, trying to hold it and the ridiculous engraved playbill. “Well, looks like you’ve got your course mapped out, Leah. Let me know if you ever figure out where I fit in.”
“Hey, come on, Michael.”
“Come on? You are the one who wants to date around, who can’t trust me, who can’t go back to what we had. Not me. I’m there. So the ball is in your court, baby,” he said, and turned around, walked to the driver side of his car, and got in.
As he drove out of the parking lot, he caught a glimpse of Leah standing at her car, watching him. He looked the other way, pulled out on the road, and hit the gas.
He was reaching the end of his rope.
He just hoped that whatever happened between him and Leah, this Adolfo character was a decent guy and not dangerous like Michael’s instincts were telling him.
Subject: 13 Months and Counting
From: Lucy Frederick
To: Leah Kleinschmidt
Time: 6:13 pm
Okay, at the risk of you causing my leap from the Empire State Building here, I have attached a very sexy halter dress in lavender. Surely you cannot have a problem with lavender. And lavender accents would look stunning on me with my dark hair. Don’t write me back if you don’t like it, because I do not want to be disappointed for the hundredth time.
So what’s new with the Big Giant Loser (BGL)?
Subject: Re: 13 Months and Counting
From: Leah Kleinschmidt
To: Lucy Frederick
Time: 7:32 pm
Lavender is cool, altho I think I’d go with a softer pastel version instead of something that bold. But yeah, I can definitely do lavender.
So do you think I should go out with Adolfo? He brought me a picture of me in camouflage today, which I thought was sweet, but in a weird kind of way—I mean, I didn’t know the picture was taken, so it had a stalking-ish feel to it. But he’s really sweet and nice. Only he doesn’t give me flutters in my stomach like I get when I see Michael, who, BTW, gave me an engraving of my first Broadway playbill. I didn’t even know he went to that play.
Subject: Re: Re: 13 Months and Counting
From: Lucy Frederick
To: Leah Kleinschmidt
Time: 9:58 pm
You’re kidding, right? This is your big cyber joke on me—give me grief about the bridesmaid’s dresses and then tell me you’re going to date someone else? Please tell me you are kidding, because if you aren’t, I’m not sure I can correspond with you anymore. You’re driving me nuts.
P.S. The LAVENDER I picked out is the exact shade of LAVENDER I want. So I guess that means you don’t like LAVENDER either.
Subject: Re: Re: Re: 13 Months and Counting
From: Leah Kleinschmidt
To: Lucy Frederick
Time: 7:04 pm
I’m leaving this week for Washington. Maybe we should have this conversation when I get back. I know you are really excited about your wedding, but its starting to get to you and you’re getting a little cranky, Luce. Whatever color you decide is okay with me, I keep telling you that. So just chill out, and I’ll talk to you in a few weeks.
Chapter Twenty-One
THE soccer moms, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, departed the next morning at the ungodly hour of crack-of-dawn-thirty—or at least an hour Leah previously had only seen sliding into from a party the night before—on a plane bound for Bellingham, Washington. In Bellingham, there was a big touring bus waiting to whisk them off to the tiny hamlet in the middle of the Cascade National Forest, where they would be camping for the next couple of days. After a couple of days of rafting, they would move back to Bellingham to begin filming.
The camping site, on the banks of a swift-running river, was absolutely beautiful. They were surrounded by mountains and towering pines and spruce. Carpets of green stretched along the side of the road, spotted with yellow, w
hite, and purple wildflowers. Up the road from their campsite was a small hamlet with a grocery store and a couple of restaurants (Trudy said Mexican and Italian, although how she could possibly know that, Leah could not say), along with a place to rent area cabins and a river supply store.
Their campsite included four small cabins. In the area between the cabins, another dozen camping tents had been pitched. Between every couple of tents were big red Igloo coolers and camp chairs, and three fire rings spaced throughout the site.
As the bus unloaded, they were instructed to take their bags and select a tent—two women to a tent. “Ohmigod, this is absolutely gorgeous,” Trudy gushed, dragging her incredibly large duffel bag along. “Who knew this was here?”
Anyone with an inkling of U.S. geography, Leah figured.
“Let’s choose one close by,” Trudy wisely suggested, after watching Tamara Contreras, who, predictably, shot ahead of everyone else to select the best tent.
Trudy squatted down in front of one and pulled the flap back, peering inside. “Not bad, not bad,” she said. “There are two Sleep Number beds, a private bath, and a Jacuzzi . . . reminds me of the place I lost my virginity.”
“Oh no,” Leah said with a groan. “Please promise me you won’t share that story.”
“Don’t be so squeamish,” Trudy said cheerfully. “It happened when I was sixteen,” she said, and crawled inside the tent, wiggling her butt as she tried to drag the giant duffel along with her, talking gaily about the time she lost her virginity in a voice loud enough for the entire campsite to hear.