by Danika Stone
“Um…” Liv peered over her shoulder. Xander was only three steps away, but it might as well have been a mile. The woman who played Tekla had him trapped in conversation, touching his arm and giggling time and again. Xander looked up and gave Liv a look of frustration. “How much longer?” he mouthed. She shrugged. The Starveil Event was proving harder to escape than the cheering fans.
She turned back to find Mike R. Miles and a middle-aged woman in a silk suit waiting patiently for her attention. Mike gestured to the conservatively dressed exec at his side.
“Liv, this is Mr. Grander’s agent. She wanted to meet you.”
“Good to meet you,” Liv said with a cautious smile.
“I can’t thank you enough for drumming up the interest for Captain Spartan’s character,” the woman said. Her voice had a collegiate East Coast clip that matched her patent leather pumps and heavy gold jewelry. “You did what no one else could. I’m in awe.”
Liv shook her head. “I wouldn’t have done any of it if I’d known Tom wanted out of the franchise.”
Mike’s smile wobbled, and Liv rushed to explain. “I ran into Mr. Grander on the Walk of Fame. He made it clear he didn’t want the character of Spartan to survive. He wanted him dead.”
“Ah, yes.” Mike laughed. “I suppose that explains why you’ve been avoiding Tom tonight.”
“Is it that obvious?”
Mike grinned. “A little.”
The agent joined in his mirth. “Oh, Tom,” she sighed. “He has his own agenda. Doesn’t he? Quite the bohemian.”
Liv frowned in confusion. The two of them were clearly having a moment, and she didn’t know why she was part of this.
“Tom’s an actor, sweetheart,” Mike said. “He’s moody. Temperamental.”
“That’s an understatement,” the agent added. She smiled sympathetically at Liv. “But Starveil Six came together anyhow. And I want to thank you personally for your efforts. I don’t know how you pulled it off, but you did.”
Liv felt like she was reading off a script with half the words missing. “But I don’t understand.”
“Starveil is a multimillion-dollar franchise,” Mike said. “And because of you … and some fancy footwork by Rachel here”—he nodded to the agent—“we’ve got another movie out of it. If you ever need a place to do an internship, I’m sure I could arrange something.”
“You could?”
He laughed. “Seems the least I could do after all you’ve done for Starveil.” He waved at a group of people laughing at the side. “Contact my assistant, Sam, if you want details.”
Something about Mike’s too-wide smile made him look like a shark. Liv looked over at Grander’s agent. She, too, had that same hungry grin.
“How did I help exactly?” Liv asked, though her voice had faded.
“Tom’s contract with Starveil included a rider,” the agent said. “That rider was tied into the popularity of the franchise, and the sales from each film. The last time Tom renegotiated his contract, that number was so high—the proceeds so ludicrous—there was no doubt that Starveil Five would be the last Starveil movie ever made.” She waved her bejeweled fingers at Liv. “You see, Tom was in negotiations for a new film: a smaller-budget movie. Much less money. Darker and grittier than Starveil. I argued against it from the start, but Sofia Coppola was slated to be the director, and Tom was determined to be part of it. He was desperate to break away from his Spartan character. To set off on his own.”
“Starveil Five was written with Tom’s change of career in mind,” Mike said. “I wrote the script for it knowing Tom wouldn’t be coming back to do another Starveil film.” He shrugged. “Captain Spartan’s character was killed off in the final act to honor his leaving.”
Liv felt the air rush from her lungs. “Oh!”
“But then you and your Spartan Survived group came along and…” Mike snapped his fingers. “Starveil Six starts filming in November.”
“We knew we’d never convince Tom to renege on his contract with Coppola, unless he was tied into a contract,” the agent said. “Starveil is a proven franchise. It’s been everyone’s bread and butter for years.” The hard glint returned to her eyes. “And now it’ll continue indefinitely.”
Mike squeezed Liv’s shoulder. “You did the work for me,” he said cheerfully.
“For both of us,” the agent echoed. “Thank you, Liv. Mr. Grander may not appreciate it, but I certainly do.”
“You’re welcome.” The words caught on her tongue. “But I—I have to go.”
Liv turned away from the duo. She stumbled through the crowd until she reached Xander’s side. The actress was still talking, but Liv grabbed his hand anyway.
“Time to go,” she said, pulling him along.
“Oh sweet heavens above,” Xander sighed. “I thought you’d never arrive!”
“Were you waiting to be saved?”
“No…” Xander’s mouth twitched. “Maybe?”
Liv had just opened her mouth to answer when a tall figure crossed their paths.
Tom Grander.
Liv swerved sideways, dragging Xander in her wake.
“Hey! Where’re we going?” he shouted.
She tugged him past the A-listers and B-listers, dodging toes and knees, as they circled through the party.
“Keep up!” Liv ordered.
“But where are we going, dearest?”
“OUT!”
They wove through the crowd, down hallways and back again—away from Tom Grander—and finally through the sitting area near the exit. Liv could see Tom Grander following their progress, but she refused to stop. With one final sprint, they pushed past the knot of people by the door and tumbled into the hallway.
“Oh God.” She laughed. “That was close.”
“Perhaps he wanted to apologize to you.”
“Doubtful.”
Her gaze flitted down to their joined hands. Xander hadn’t let go. He lifted their joined fist and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. Liv’s heart was pounding so loudly she felt faint.
“So are you going to tell me where we’re going?” he murmured. “Or was this a ploy to get me alone so you could have your way with me?”
Liv moved half a step closer and fluttered her lashes. “Why, Mr. Hall,” she purred, “didn’t you promise me one last dance?”
His expression rippled in surprise and then happiness.
“Without question, m’lady. The ball awaits.”
* * *
Tonight was the party to end all parties, and Liv wanted to dance until she couldn’t anymore. Her first Dragon Con was coming to an end, and she intended to build enough memories to last the full year until the next one. Though she’d die before she told Xander he’d already won her over, she was definitely coming back! Liv rocked to the heavy bass beat, swaying in time to the rising tempo. Xander was in his element, his hips rollicking as he slid and spun to the syncopated rhythm. A hundred other dancers moved in time with them, but Xander’s attentions were solely reserved for Liv.
The music slowed and then stopped. The next song began. It had a slow, hypnotic beat, and couples began to pair off around them. Liv held Xander’s eyes.
“May I have this dance, Mr. Hall?”
Xander gave a low bow. When he rose, he was smiling. “I’d be delighted, Miss Walden.”
Xander stood with one hand outstretched, the way Liv remembered learning to waltz in gym class in high school. But the awkward bumblings of sophomore boys were nothing compared with Xander in his element. As she stepped forward, he literally swept her off her feet. The music wrapped the two of them in a haze, Xander’s hands tight on her hips as they twirled through the press of bodies. Liv laughed, tipping her head back, as they danced. No question now. Xander definitely felt the same.
He pulled her closer, the faint scent of sandalwood rising as he leaned down to whisper: “You look utterly enchanting, dearest.” His mouth brushed against her ear, sending a frisson of electricity down to the base o
f her spine.
They did another circle on the floor, and Xander spoke again. “You must allow me to tell you how much I admire you.”
Liv grinned. “You do?”
“Most ardently.”
Heat had begun to build between them, and the layers of fabric were doing nothing to dispel it. Light-headed, Liv’s body burned every place Xander’s fingers brushed. A waltz had never felt as sexual as this did. She felt like she could live in this one perfect moment forever. She never wanted it to stop or—
The tempo abruptly shifted as the DJ spun one song directly into another, the melodies bouncing back and forth in tandem. Liv stumbled to a stop, panting in Xander’s arms. She looked up to discover him watching her.
The other dancers began to move, but Liv and Xander clung together from hip to chest. Tension coiled in the pit of Liv’s stomach. Music roared, vibrating their skin. Xander let go of her waist. She expected him to walk away. (He’d done it every time before this.) But tonight, his expression grew warmer and more intent. His hands rose to cup her chin.
“Do it,” he whispered. His breath swirled the hair by Liv’s face.
Her fingers tightened. “Do what?”
Xander’s mouth dropped to hers. “This…”
He pulled her in for a kiss, the first they’d shared, and her body burst into flame under his touch. Their lips met in a rush of desire and sensation. Within seconds, Liv’s hands were in Xander’s hair, her mouth moving under his. The fire spread to every nerve in her body. If Liv had felt a snap of connection to Xander with each brush of his fingers against hers, it was nothing compared with the rush of emotion that came with the kiss. Her legs went weak, and Xander’s arm tightened around her waist, holding her upright. For a long moment, the only thing in the world that mattered was the taste of him against her tongue, the warm feel of him under her fingertips.
When they finally broke apart, they were gasping for breath. Their eyes met for a long moment. This was the perfect moment the fortune cookie had been talking about, and it was spinning out like something predestined.
I’m in love, Liv realized, and I’m not even scared.
15
“ONLY ONE MAN CALLS ME DARLIN’.”
(STARVEIL)
Liv woke first.
As with yesterday, Xander was in bed with her, only this morning, Liv had all the memories of the other things that had accompanied their return to the room. She tiptoed to the shower, blood rushing to her ears as memories from the night reemerged from the fog of her mind. Liv had been kissed before, but she suddenly had a comparison between adequate and amazing. She caught sight of her disheveled hair and kiss-bruised lips and grinned.
Xander was a good teacher.
Embarrassed, she climbed into the shower, trying to pull an aura of calm around her. How were you supposed to act after all of that? Liv had nothing to guide her behavior. An unbidden image flashed to mind, and she felt herself redden despite the blasting heat of the water. She had no regrets, but she felt like every emotion she felt must show on her face.
“Coffee,” she muttered as she dried herself off. A little distance would help. With this in mind, Liv dressed in jeans and a tee and sneaked out of the room, leaving Xander and the others sleeping.
The main floors of the Marriott were buzzing as the custodial crew tried to repair the damage from the endless partying. Three Mass Effect characters slept on the red couches. Other con-goers staggered past in varying degrees of intoxication, evidently still going strong from the night before. Liv let out a sigh of relief as she caught sight of the Starbucks counter. The line was barely twenty people long. A miracle!
She joined the line just as an older man, far across the atrium, suddenly changed directions and made a beeline for the Starbucks line. Liv groaned as she saw his Starveil shirt.
She turned toward the counter, scanning the options board while wishing, yet again, that she’d brought cosplay to wear. Everyone had seen her at yesterday’s Starveil panel, and she was in no mood to deal with another fan trying to talk to her. The man joined the line. From her peripheral vision, Liv could see him peering at her, perhaps trying to decide if the girl with wet hair and no makeup was the same person he’d seen yesterday. After a minute, he decided she was.
He cleared his throat.
Liv didn’t turn.
“Excuse me,” the man said.
Liv took a nervous glance behind her. He was middle-aged, with a long ponytail and a droopy mustache. A hippie gone to seed. He seemed safe enough.
“Yes?”
“Are you Liv?” he asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“As in Liv Walden?”
“Yeah…” Liv said warily. “Why do you ask?”
He offered his hand. “I’m Sam, Mr. Miles’s assistant.”
Liv stared at him. “Sam?”
He smiled. “I tried to talk to you yesterday, but you left the cast party before I could catch up to you.”
“What’s this about?”
“Oh, I thought Mr. Miles mentioned it to you. You’re being offered an internship at the studio when Starveil Six starts filming.”
Liv felt the floor fall away. She was still there, floating, but there was nothing under her. She tried to answer and failed.
“So I take it you’re interested?” Sam said.
Liv nodded.
“Good to hear it.” He pressed a business card into her hand. “This is my number. Just call me when you’re ready to set this all up. I have forms and things to fill out. If you’re in a college program, you might be able to claim credit.”
“Th-thanks.”
Liv shoved the card into her pocket with sweaty hands, watching as MRM’s assistant changed directions and walked away. This didn’t feel real. Her dream had come true, but in ways far larger than she’d ever imagined.
“Ma’am?” the server at the counter said. “You ready to order?”
She shook her head. “Not right now. I’ve got a call to make.”
Minutes later, she was hidden in the fire stairwell, phone tucked against her ear. While Liv’s mother only begrudgingly carried a cell phone and texting was far beyond her expertise, phone calls still worked.
“Could you repeat that again, Liv?” Katherine said.
“I’ve been offered an internship. It’s for the film industry, Mom. And it’s a big studio!”
“Did you say with … Starveil?”
Liv began to giggle. “Not just with Starveil, but because of it.”
“Oh my God, Liv,” her mother gasped, voice breaking. “That’s … that’s fantastic!”
“Yeah, it is! This is it. This is my big break!”
The receiver echoed with the sound of her mother’s happy laughter. “Oh, sweetie. I’m so proud of you!”
* * *
* * *
Xander wasn’t in the hotel room when Liv arrived.
“Not sure where he went,” Mario said. “He was gone when I woke up.”
Emma frowned. “I thought he was with you.”
“No, not with me,” Liv said, reaching for her phone.
The screen showed no replies, and the sight of that, more than anything, left her gut in a tight ball. Where was Xander? And why, after the kisses last night, would he be avoiding her?
Fighting nerves, she began to tap in another text, then changed her mind and hit Dial. The phone rang four times before a recording of Xander’s voice came through: “You’ve reached the cellular telephone of Mr. Xander Hall, Esquire. If this inquiry is in regards to acting services, please leave a message after the beep. If this message is of a personal nature, please leave your calling card on the front hall table at my estate, and I’ll respond by mail at my earliest convenience.”
A beep rang through the phone, and Liv hit End before it could record her panicked breathing. Emotions clawed their way up her chest. The embarrassed nervousness she’d been feeling all morning surged. Why was Xander avoiding her?
She grabbed her
purse, heading for the door.
“Liv,” Emma called. “Are you all right?”
She forced a smile. “If Xander comes back, let him know I’m looking for him.”
Mario nodded. “We will.”
* * *
Liv took the elevator directly down to the main floor. The crowds finally seemed to have peaked and were waning. The atrium was a never-ending party, but it was a far cry from what she’d seen the last few nights. Liv found a place on the red couches where she had a view of people coming and going, settling in to wait.
Liv pulled her phone from her pocket. Surely Xander would be back by now. They needed to talk … and soon. But when she checked the screen, there were no messages. Concerned, Liv texted the younger of the two Emmas:
Liv took a shuddering breath and slid the phone back into her pocket. Her eyes prickled with unshed tears as the truth hit her. It wasn’t that Xander couldn’t answer his phone. He just didn’t want to talk to her. She’d spent so long trying to avoid her feelings for Xander that she’d finally convinced him she didn’t have them.
Liv ran her fingers through her hair, fighting the urge to scream. “I’ve got to fix this.…”
* * *
Sunday morning didn’t feel like Sunday morning.
It was a party, the same party that had been building all weekend of the convention. If Friday night had been excitement and Saturday had been for crowds, Sunday had an over-the-top decadence as every con-goer came out one last time to fete their yearly pilgrimage. Costumes were soiled and wrinkled. People hacked as the first signs of the much-reviled “con-crud” took hold in the sinuses and lungs of the sleep-deprived masses.
“Where are you, Xander?” Liv muttered anxiously.
She glanced back toward the elevators, wondering if it was time to give up the search. The atrium was cloying, and she’d been jostled one too many times. The Starveil fans who had begun to look to her as their guide were nice, but she didn’t have it in her to talk fandom. If she didn’t find Xander soon, tomorrow’s flight back to Colorado would be unbearably uncomfortable. For a second, the kisses in the hallway and hotel room resurfaced, and she felt her cheeks burn. That hadn’t just been her. That had been Xander, too. She needed to let him know how she felt.