by India Lee
“Hey, can you pay me to be your girlfriend, bro? I’m about the same as her in terms of looks, right?” A portly older man asked Liam the question as he passed by with his friend. “Maybe five, six pounds heavier?”
Though his facial expression didn’t move or even twitch, Liam’s feet promptly changed direction, heading for the portly man whose smile quickly dropped, his own feet speeding away so suddenly that it was almost comical.
“Liam,” Amanda hissed sternly, her eyes wide as both paparazzi lenses and pedestrian smartphones caught the exchange. She caught his hand and pulled him back to her.
“Hey guys, you know the gig is up, right?” a Pop Dinner paparazzo called from behind his flashing camera. “You can stop this now.”
Amanda tensed as they approached the front door of the stone building, waiting for a reaction from Liam. There was none.
“Liam, stop playing, buddy!” the paparazzo laughed. “Now you can go back to fucking hot chicks — aren’t you relieved?”
Shit. Yanking his arm with all her might, Amanda barely moved Liam’s enormous frame as he turned around to head back toward the paparazzo. It took every last ounce of her strength to even get his attention — or maybe it was the way her hand pulled and stretched the sleeve of his henley. Finally, he looked at her, his eyes vacant.
“Don’t,” she said through her teeth, as quietly as possible. “Let’s just go see Terrence. We’re in enough trouble.”
Amanda chewed her lip as they rode up the elevator in silence, unsure of what behavior to expect from Liam. Since the news had come out, she had seen his reactions vacillate between calm and total stoicism. Whichever it was, he was mostly quiet around her, which drove her close to crazy with paranoia. She’d have assumed a breakup on the horizon were it not for the fact that in his woodenness, he still prioritized defending her around hecklers and paparazzi on the street.
And he had brought her to this meeting when “do not bring her” had been a strict term of the latest phone call from Terrence — or rather, one of his assistants. Releasing her lower lip from between her teeth, Amanda swallowed with guilt. She didn’t have to listen in to any of Liam’s phone calls to understand that his working relationship with Terrence had become quickly strained, at best, and that his shot at starring in The Legends had been beyond compromised.
Because of me. Amanda looked up at Liam as the elevator slowed to a stop. She studied him and the concentrated look in his eye, the lack of any sort of wry curve on his lips. Why do you still want me? She couldn’t help wondering it. Since last night, every time she put herself in Liam’s movie star shoes, she couldn’t think of any reason that made her worth the trouble. It’s not like we’ve said those three words to each other yet, she mused, all the while rolling her eyes at herself for even thinking about the stupid words at such an inopportune moment.
But she didn’t dwell on the thought for long because by the time the time the shiny elevator doors parted, all eyes were on them, unblinking as they stared over their cubicles.
Amanda suspected that the entire office had been watching the numbers go up on each floor for the duration of her elevator ride up with Liam, probably having expected them since Terrence’s most recent call — or just Liam, at least. Though the call that summoned Liam to the office had been made by an assistant, Amanda could hear Terrence’s wild, angry shouting in the background of the call. Considering how audible he had been through Liam’s phone, Amanda suspected that all the people working at his production company would have heard him as well.
“Amanda?”
Despite the stress knitting his face, Liam’s voice was easy when he turned around to look quizzically at Amanda, who had yet to step out of the elevator. She eyed everyone whose stares went from the both of them to just her. One of Terrence’s assistants whom she recognized from the night at Chelsea Piers scurried down the hallway in her pointy heels, no doubt in the direction of Terrence’s office.
“Hey. Come on,” Liam gently urged again. Amanda chewed on the inner part of her lip, noting that Liam’s three words were the most he had spoken to her since he’d asked for her promise regarding Casey. To his credit, he had been so occupied by endless phone calls that he hadn’t slept. Neither of them had. Their minds were far too occupied, to the point that they still had on the same outfits as they’d had on last night at Yankee Stadium — Liam in the same T-shirt and jeans and Amanda in the same gauzy raglan and denim shorts.
“Alright.” Giving up on coaxing her out on her own, Liam stepped back into the elevator, wrapping his arm around Amanda and placing his hand on her lower back before ushering her onto the shiny floor of Terrence’s office. Amanda did her best to ignore the stares. She’d become accustom to them since January but these were different. They were stares from people who knew everything about her, down to the stupid comments she had been leaving on HDU for years as PrettyKitty29. Never had she felt so very naked.
As they passed the desks and cubicles, Amanda stared forward in attempts to ignore the gawking — as well as the skinny guy in the corner who loudly laughed to his coworker. “What the fuck. Look. They’re still trying to keep up the act,” he snorted, though his gaze immediately lowered when Liam simply looked at him.
“I’m not,” Amanda whispered to Liam when he turned to her, before he could even say, “Don’t let him bother you.” She could feel that he was going to. After twelve hours of silent panic, his usual demeanor was slowly but surely returning and she could once again detect that default, that familiar feeling she always sensed in Liam’s body — that need of his to protect her. It had, oddly enough, been a compulsion of his even back when their relationship was merely a contract. Amanda remembered the first time she had felt it — in January, at the June Magazine party, while talking to Casey’s best friend, Jamie. Only feet away from her, Connor had been exchanging wry looks with Liam that Amanda had caught, knowing well at the time that he was silently making fun of either her or Jamie. Guess we were never meant to get along.
Though he’d been irritated with her just minutes prior, Liam had caught Amanda’s displeased eye and reassured her that he’d later explain. Which he did. He told you that they were talking about Jaime, because she and Casey were “the worst kind of people” who “use people for their entertainment.” You just refused to listen, Amanda bitterly reminded herself as they finally reached the end of the winding hallway and the frosted glass door of Terrence’s office.
“Fuckin’ open it.” The brusque command came from Terrence after Liam’s knock on the door. Her shoulders stiff, Amanda braced herself for immediate screaming the moment it swung open.
But there was none.
Leaning back in his Herman Miller chair was Terrence, elbows on his armrests and his hands folded in front of his chest. He nodded toward the assistant who stood next to him awkwardly. “Manda. Jenny told me you brought her.”
“Amanda,” Liam corrected, holding her by the hand and bringing her to stand beside him in front of Terrence’s massive desk.”
“Right. Amanda,” Terrence repeated, gravel in his voice. “There was a reason why I asked you not to bring Amanda.”
“And there’s a reason I brought her anyway,” Liam replied without missing a beat. Amanda took note of his incredible calm as he spoke to Terrence. She felt herself as if her jello-like knees might give way beneath her.
“What reason is that?” Terrence asked. Amanda couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or snide but she was leaning toward the latter. Despite that, Liam managed to answer promptly, undaunted.
“I gave you a complete transformation for this role. One that even I didn’t think I was capable of. And I wouldn’t have been able to do it without Amanda.”
Amanda blinked, her gaze flying to Liam with look of surprise. His eyes remained on Terrence.
“I thought it was because of your brother, not Amanda,” Terrence said dryly.
“The physical change was. The muscle, the training. I did all that knowing Log
an’s done a thousand times worse. I couldn’t insult him by giving some half-assed effort while playing a PJ,” Liam clarified, his voice steady. “But the other part — the husband and the man that John was, who had his wife and his own family to think about when he was out in Iraq — I wouldn’t know how to be that part of him without her.”
“That’s concerning,” Terrence said with a lilt in his voice. “It was your job to deliver me a performance regardless. Isn’t that what you actors do?”
“Yes. But we draw from experience,” Liam answered. He rubbed the back of his neck and tried to look casual as he shrugged, daring to even crack a smile. “And as shitty as it sounds, I never cared about a woman enough to fully understand what John had with his wife. The only kind of love I knew was what I have for family, my brother.”
Amanda’s heart skipped. Wait, what the hell did you just say? There was a wonderful, love-related inference hidden somewhere in Liam’s words — one that Amanda wished she was hearing under different circumstances. Though she looked up at Liam with eyes desperate for clarification, his continued to remain on Terrence. Turning to catch Terrence’s reaction, Amanda was surprised to see his expression thawing.
“Well, I’m glad,” he said though his voice remained curt. “But the fact of the matter is that the image of this movie just completely changed thanks to you two. Twelve hours ago, this was a film about patriotism, honor, about authentic grit and bravery. We had all of that going for us until the world saw you conspiring with someone on the Internet, thinking up ways to trick them into liking and believing you as John Camden. Now this scandal is all anyone is going to think about when they hear A Soldier. Now we have a massive publicity hole to climb out of before we can even start convincing people to see the film.”
“It’s an incredible film. It should speak for itself.”
Terrence nodded. “That’s true. This movie is good shit. But it never matters what the truth is, it only matters what people want to believe and what they want to believe is either black or white with no in between. So now this movie isn’t the Oscar frontrunner that Liam broke his back for, that’s directed by a two-time Oscar winner. It’s ‘that movie Liam faked everything for — his relationship and probably his training too, and it’s directed by that stupid old bat who was dumb enough to give him a serious role.’” Terrence held is hand up the moment Liam opened his mouth. “And I get it. You guys are real now. I believe you are. I’m a director. I can read body language. Congratulations. But it doesn’t matter if you’re real because the world has made up its mind about you two. They want to obsess over this con-artist scandal that even they couldn’t dream up. And unfortunately for me, this incredible scandal was born from my film so now my film is being dragged through the mud along with your mess,” Terrence laughed bitterly, his face reddening along with his rising voice. Sensing his mounting anger, his assistant meekly spoke up.
“This publicity might actually draw the mainstream audience and help us at the box office since — ”
“I don’t give two shits about the box office,” he interrupted her, his stoic face contradicting his gruff tone. “I care about Oscar. The Academy. And not to shock anyone, but the Academy cares about politics and its own reputation, which includes what movies and which actors they give their precious awards out to. Comprende?”
As Terrence’s assistant nodded, another knock come on the door. Without waiting for a “come in” the door swung open to reveal a purse-lipped woman in a fitted pantsuit and an ultra-tight, white-blonde ponytail. Amanda didn’t recognize her but judging from his sigh, Liam seemed to.
“And look who’s finally arrived to have a nice little chat about how the hell to fix all this. Your lovely publicist. I love dealing with my actors’ publicists,” Terrence said to Liam, the dead look in his eye conveying his sarcasm. “Why don’t you two stay in here. Jennifer and I will step out and talk to Perrin.”
Before Liam could protest, Terrence and his assistant exited, slamming the office door behind them. Alone in the corner office with Liam, Amanda’s shoulders slumped with the exhaustion it had taken to finally find the voice to speak.
“Liam. I am so sorry that I’m putting you through — ”
“No more apologizing,” he interrupted her. “It’s done, Amanda. You weren’t the only one who was careless here.”
“It was my inbox the information was in.”
Liam flashed her something of a smirk, which surprised her considering the circumstances. “In case you didn’t realize, I have an inbox too, Amanda. I never deleted anything from mine either, it just happened to be yours that was hacked. We just… forgot about being professional by the time you got here,” he said as he sat down one on of the chairs in front of Terrence’s desk, his broad shoulders expanding under his white T-shirt as he leaned forward on his knees. “Kind of forgot it was a job,” he said. “At least I did.”
Her lips stayed pursed despite her desire to actually smile. “Call me crazy but that kind of feels like a compliment.”
“I’d say it qualifies.”
Though it didn’t quite manifest on her anxious face, Amanda could feel a grin. She squinted, tilting her head as she recalled Liam’s words from a few minutes ago. Her attempt to subdue her coy question failed. “What exactly did you mean before?” she blurted, unable to help herself. “About how you only knew brotherly love before me?”
Liam’s lips twisted up, his forehead furrowing as he lifted his gaze to flash her a smirk. “I would think that’s pretty easy to interpret.”
Amanda felt the smile actually touch her lips at his reluctance to clarify. “Sorry. I have to have it spelled out explicitly.”
His look was one of mock concern. “Your basic comprehension skills need work.”
“Don’t be an asshole. Just say it.”
Liam bit his lip back. He gazed at Amanda for a moment, getting her hopes up before breaking into a laugh. “Shit, I almost forgot. I never gave you your birthday gift.” Amanda shook her head, rolling her eyes at his change of subject. His smile was full of satisfaction as he studied her annoyance, bringing her hand out before retrieving a tiny manila envelope from his pocket. “Happy birthday,” he said, slapping it into her open palm.
“So romantic. Thanks.” She kept her deliberately dull eyes on him as she tore the top off the little three-inch paper sleeve. Upon turning it over onto her palm, Amanda stared at the small, shiny object. Feeling Liam’s gaze fixed on her, she tried to contain her massive, dorky smile but her quivering lips didn’t stand a chance. “To… your apartment?” she asked slowly, quietly while holding up the little silver key. Liam shook his head. The moment he did, Amanda felt herself blush hard, immediately mortified by her presumptuousness. Christ, Amanda, you’ve barely been dating for real. He’s not going to ask you to move in just like that.
“No. Not my apartment.”
“Right. Sorry.” Amanda nodded as she bit her lips back sheepishly. “So… what is this thing for?”
“The house on Verbena.”
Amanda felt her mouth part.
“Ours. Not Logan’s.”
Ours. She had never thought of herself as someone sentimental but the word instantly rendered her knees useless. Taking the seat across from Liam, her wide-eyed look asked the questions for her once again speechless tongue.
“You were right. We can’t help loving this stupid city even though it’s so goddamned crazy here all the time. Which is why we need the house. I saw how relaxed you were when we were there, how peaceful you looked. Being at that place for even a few days did us both a lot of good and I… didn’t want it to be our last time.” Liam shrugged. “So, now you can go whenever you need to get away. Maybe as a writing retreat. Or just a weekend of quiet. Which I’m assuming you’ll need after all of this bullshit.”
Amanda chewed the corner of her lip, her eyes still wide with disbelief as she peered up at him. “Would you come too?”
“Of course,” he grinned. “Half that house i
s mine.”
Amanda laughed. Staring back down at the gleaming key, she took in as deep a breath as she could. “This is… incredible. I don’t even know what to say,” she murmured, running her fingertip along the smooth, cold metal. “I love this,” she exhaled, mentally kicking herself the second she did. Asshole, she scolded herself. Chickened out on the last word. She peered up at Liam, wondering if he’d noticed. His expression was unreadable.
“Good.” He gave a little smile as he took her hand and brought it to his mouth, brushing a soft kiss onto the back of her hand. “Hopefully we can go back in a few months when Logan is home.”
Amanda nodded, chewing her lip. “Yeah,” she murmured just as the door to Terrence’s office opened again. Filing in were Terrence, his assistant and Liam’s extremely tense-looking publicist.
“Alright.” Liam rose to his feet again, his frame towering over eveyone else’s by at least five inches. “Anyone care to fill me in on the discussion?”
“Love to,” Terrence boomed with exaggerated enthusiasm, his energy seemingly renewed. “Well, see. Perrin and I agreed on a simple plan that’s just about the only solution we could think of for this situation. And when you agree to it, Liam, things’ll go back to as normal as possible for production and perhaps I won’t immediately nix the prospect of ever working with you again since I do still want you to star in The Legends,” he laughed. “Let’s be honest, I didn’t invest all that training in you for just one movie, really. You’re Superman. You’re still my top choice to star.”
Amanda glanced over at Liam, who nodded with a look as eager as she’d ever seen on him. His Adam’s apple rose and fell at the mere mention of the upcoming film.
“So,” Terrence continued, clapping his hands together. “What I have is one small thing that I need you to do so we can continue the production of A Soldier with zero distraction and no further headlines about bullshit. And once we’re done with this film, we can concentrate on getting you ready for The Legends. Sound good?”