by Lily Zante
Rudy takes some cash out of his wallet. “This should take care of things.” He holds out the bills for her to take. The woman looks confused. “Why are you giving me money?”
Rudy coughs lightly. “So you won’t sell your story.”
“To who?”
“To the tabloids.”
She makes a noise in the base of the throat, as if she’s trying to stop herself from laughing.
“Don’t you …don’t you know who he is?” Rudy asks, slowly.
She looks at me again. I’m actually surprised she wasn’t any warmer to me in the ambulance, and now I realize that it’s because she has no clue about me.
“He looks familiar, but I don’t care who he is. I certainly don’t want your money.”
“Take it,” Rudy insists.
“I don’t need your money,” she throws back, looking disgusted.
“Leave her alone,” Dottie says, and I’m inclined to think the same. But this is something new to me, having someone, a woman no less, turn down the chance to take a picture with me.
She leaves, and I don’t even know her name. Doesn’t matter, because I sure hope I’ll never run into her again.
Dottie gets ready to leave and asks me if she needs to wake me up at 4 AM tomorrow, and buy me a smoothie. 4 AM isn’t that far away, and yes, I tell her, “Do both.” Because it might ease things if I explain to the director in person, even though the sight of me looking like this will send him into cardiac arrest.
“I was joking,” she cries. “You’re not going anywhere for a week at least, right?” she asks Rudy.
“It’s a good thing I’m here and not in LA,” says Rudy. “I’ll have to explain this mess you’re in to everyone. We’ll have to work out a story to explain this.”
“Call me and let me know what you decide,” says Dottie. She waves as she leaves.
Damn it. Now it’s just me and Rudy. It looks like I’ll be staying in the hospital for tonight, routine precautions and all that. It’s not a bad thing because it means anytime soon, Rudy will be heading off.
But, he starts to lecture me first. “You need to get a grip, Callum.” He points his finger at me.
“I didn’t ask to get attacked.”
“Some of these streets aren’t safe. How could you be so stupid?”
“It’s not too bad.” My attackers could have had a knife, or a gun. This thought only comes to me now, and I realize how lucky I have been.
“Not too bad?” he yells, raising his voice, “Not too bad? The studio is going to have to delay filming until your ribs heal. The makeup can take care of your black eye, but miracles can’t reduce the swollen face.”
I raise a hand to my face. It does feel puffy. I remember the punches to my face and chest, and then that woman yelling at them. Maybe she did come at exactly the right time.
“You were lucky,” he says.
“I’m aware of that. Let’s leave it at that.”
“Why did you put up a fight? They only wanted your wallet. Why didn’t you throw it at them? It’s not like you need the money.”
I have my reasons, but to him I say, “What’s my lead role, huh? I wasn’t going to give in to those two losers that easily.”
“You might be one of Hollywood’s favorite sons right now but things can change very quickly in this business. You could have gotten yourself killed.”
“I’m okay. I’m not dead.”
“You were damned lucky. At least I don’t have to be in your shoes when the director sees you.”
He’s right. I wish I wasn’t in my shoes either.
Chapter Five
NINA
* * *
The strong smell of freshly made coffee fills the air. It’s relatively quiet at the diner first thing in the morning. I sit in a corner trying to get a little of my assignment done. I’m not due to start my shift for another hour, but I prefer being in the diner and surrounded by people. It beats being in my apartment where sometimes I can’t trust myself.
This is safer.
Elias and Harper walk in about half an hour later, but go and sit on another table when they see me with my school stuff spread out. A few of the regulars nod their heads in acknowledgement, but otherwise no one bothers them at this time of the morning either. It’s mostly only the tourists who come up to him asking for selfies and autographs.
I pack my work away and go over to them. I still have a little time before I start my shift.
“I don’t play golf,” I hear my brother say.
“Then tell him you don’t.”
“I did. He thinks he can convince me. I should ask him if he’d like to step inside the ring with me.” Elias grins as Harper swats him gently.
“Be nice. He just wants to get to know you better,” says Harper. Her dad was mad at her when she and Elias first got together. He saw some intimate photos which a douchebag journalist work colleague of hers sent to him. It’s taken a while for the rift to heal.
“Hey,” I slide into the booth opposite them.
“Hey yourself,” says Elias.
“What you got there?” I ask. Harper has the newspaper spread across the table.
“Callum Sandersby,” she says.
“Who?” I ask, even though I know, because I looked him up online after I got back from the hospital. He’s some big actor from Hollywood, and I realized he was in that film I watched once, with one of my favorite actresses, Leanne Rose. It wasn’t such a bad film. Actionpacked. She was better than he was. Trust this idiot to be walking around Chicago that late at night, given who he is.
I peer at a photo of the actor leaving the hospital, and then I almost cough in shock as I read the headline.
Taking his role too far
“What do you mean, who? Callum Sandersby,” repeats Harper. “He was in that big action movie last summer.” She clicks her fingers as if she’s trying to remember the name.
Elias leans forward, places his hefty hand on the paper and sniffs. “He looks like a pretty boy to me.” He turns to Harper. “I thought you liked your men rough around the edges.”
She leans in and stares up at him adoringly. “No one for me but you, honey.” Then she kisses him and thankfully it’s only a short peck on the lips.
“Less of the PDA, please,” I beg, and turn the paper around to me so that I can read it.
Reports say that the actor injured himself during filming in the city of Chicago. The last part of filming for his upcoming film, Death of a Legend, was due to begin this week, but has now been delayed.
“He’s making a boxing film,” I state.
“Yeah?” Elias turns the paper around so that it’s the right side up for him.
I swat his hand gently. “Hey, I was reading that.”
“This must be the guy Lou was talking about.”
“You know him?” asks Harper.
Elias taps his finger over Callum’s face. “I don’t know him, but someone from his camp has been on Lou’s back. Says the guy wants a few hours of my time.”
“For what?” I ask.
“Says he wants to make sure he’s properly in character or something. He’s playing the part of a boxer.”
I recall what the actor had said on that night, about giving as good as he got, and his constant boast of ‘you should have seen the other guys’ to the doctors and nurses. So that was why he’d stood up to his attackers, or tried to?
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell Elias and Harper the truth, that he wasn’t injured on set. He got mugged, and then beaten up.
“Why don’t you meet with him?” Harper suggests.
My brother raises his eyebrow at her. “I have a rematch with Garrison coming up. I don’t have time to waste on this guy.”
“Not even an hour?”
“Do you have the hots for this guy or something?” Elias asks, sliding his arm around her shoulders, all territorial like. She snuggles up close to him. “I have a hot guy all to myself, and I don’t need anyone else.”
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“Are you sure?” Elias asks before turning to me. “Should I be worried about this fangirl?”
I shake my head and grin. “Don’t be silly. Harper adores you. She’s like a puppy dog following you around.”
This comment elicits a stern look from Harper. “I’m not like that!”
She likes to think she’s a strong, independent career woman, and I know the kinds of hassles she’s had at her last work place, but Harper is all soft and squishy around my brother. She’s madly in love with him.
They’re madly in love. I’ve never seen my brother look so happy, and it fills my heart with happiness to see him like this. It isn’t because he’s riding high on the waves of success, or the fact that he’s proven himself as a boxer, but the other things—finding a soul mate, feeling complete, and content—things I can never hope to have, my brother now has them. He deserves them.
“He’s eye candy,” says Harper, then turns the paper the right side up for me. “What do you think?” As well as the main photo of him leaving the hospital, there is another, smaller more classic close up of his face further down the page. This guy has an intense look about him, as if he’s staring right at me.
I shrink back in disgust. “He’s an actor.”
“Hollywood A-list,” Harper states.
“I’m sure he’s full of himself,” I throw back.
“Yeah, full of bullshit, I’ll bet,” says Eli, coughing into his closed fist. He’s saying this because a teeny-weeny part of him is jealous, but he’s not far from wrong. I’ve had a taste of Callum Sandersby, and I didn’t like him one bit. This guy assumed I’d want a picture taken with him. I want nothing of the kind. I can see why telling the truth would sabotage his carefully honed image, especially given the fact that he’s got the lead role in a boxing movie. I’m not so callous that I’d sell his story, despite what his slimy friend thought, when he tried to pay me off with money.
I also respect the fact that people want to keep their stories and secrets to themselves.
Besides, if I tell Elias and Harper the truth of what really happened, Harper will ask me a million questions, and she’ll hassle me into getting in touch with him. For a confident, self-assured woman, I’m surprised by her excitement over this guy.
But I steal another glance at the newspaper and I see the actor’s face again. He cleans up quite well. The lighting wasn’t so great that night in the alleyway and his face was covered in blood, but he’s not so bad looking. Dark hair, dark eyes, green I think. A strong jaw. I don’t normally take much notice of guys, but this guy has something. Hollywood appeal.
Thank goodness I walked away.
Chapter Six
CALLUM
* * *
I found out the freakiest shit. The woman who found me in the alleyway happens to be the sister of Elias Cardoza. One of the nurses at the hospital told me.
Un-freaking-believable.
Talk about hitting the jackpot.
This has to be fate, because, what are the chances of that happening?
The guy won’t let me meet with him, but now I have a way in. Sure, I’m grateful that his sister happened to come by the alleyway, she thinks she saved me, but I had those guys. There was no way I was going to give up my precious wallet, and then she waded into the rescue. I had no choice. I had to give it up otherwise one of those losers was going to go for her.
After getting a huge telling off and a warning from the director, and being blamed for the delay in filming, I’ve been told to take a week off.
I’m in a baseball cap and shades, and I haven’t shaved in days. It’s not a full disguise, but nobody bats an eye. I take a cab to the boxer’s gym now that I have the perfect excuse to come here and get acquainted with Cardoza. I have no idea how to get hold of his sister—she’s hardly my type—but it gives me a way in to seeking out Cardoza. At least I can approach him and, in the process, introduce myself.
As I arrive at the gym there is a group of people outside taking pictures of themselves. Some of them turn to me, then turn away. A teenage girl looks at me and smiles. I smile back. Clearly, she’s recognized me. I pull on the handle of the gym door, and wait for a fleeting second, expecting her to come up behind me and ask me for an autograph or something. But instead, she flips her hair over her shoulder and takes a selfie of herself with the gym in the background.
She didn’t recognize me either.
I take off my shades and baseball cap as I walk into the gym. It’s more rundown than I expected. It’s filthy, actually, and nothing like the place where I trained. Paint peels off the dirty walls. It doesn’t smell too great here either. I hate to think what the locker room must be like. I’m shocked that a place like this turned out a champion like Cardoza.
An old guy walks around with a tool kit. As I look around, everyone is doing their own stuff. No one looks up; they’re working out, fighting, punching, flexing some serious muscles. I hate to look at them because my hard-earned ones seem so much smaller in comparison. I used to think I had a great physique until I walked into this place.
But then a pretty woman walks up to me.
“Hi, I’m Harper.” She holds out her hand.
I shake her hand. “Hi. I’m Callum.”
“I know. We read about you in the paper.”
I swipe my hand across the back of my neck. “That story got out, did it?” I wince.
She nods. “That must have been one heck of a fighting scene. How are you feeling?”
I laugh, and then cough, because it still hurts, though I feel better now than I did a few days ago. I heeded the doctors’ advice and stayed in my suite for the past few days, taking it easy. But I’m keen to meet with Cardoza and make the most of my time away from filming.
“I’m better now thanks.”
She glances over her shoulder and waves. Cardoza is sitting on the stool, and some guy is talking to him. He’s taken his helmet off and sweat drips down the sides of his face, then he looks at the woman next to me, then at me, and scowls.
“Don’t worry about him,” Harper tells me.
“Does he ever smile?”
She grins. “That’s his fighting face. He wears it with pride.”
“I don’t think he likes me.”
“He doesn’t trust many people.”
“Does he always look so mad?”
“When he’s fighting, yes.”
I’m relieved that someone, his trainer maybe, is talking to him, otherwise I have a feeling the guy would march up to me and demand to know what I’m doing here. I’m pretty sure he knows who I am.
The woman motions for him to come over, and I stand up taller and flex my muscles at the prospect of being face to face with Elias Cardoza. I didn’t expect to see him this quickly.
“Why did you want to see Elias?” she asks, as the guy still doesn’t make a move towards us.
“I wanted to know how to get a hold of his sister. I need to thank her.”
“Nina?” Harper suddenly perks up.
“You know her?”
“I’m Elias’s girlfriend, and yes, I know Nina. How do you know her?”
Cardoza comes over just then. “What’s going on?” The boxer walks up to us and adopts the kind of fuck-off pose that I’ve sometimes practiced in front of the mirror—hands on hips, a scowl, muscles bulging. He doesn’t look so happy to see me, and while there is no need for him to look ecstatic, I didn’t expect him to look this sullen.
“This is Elias,” Harper says.
“I know. Pleased to meet you.” I start to hold out my hand, but something about the way the guy’s face is set, makes me hesitate. The guy nods at me instead.
I nod back.
“I know who this guy is,” I joke, to his girlfriend. “I mean, who wouldn’t?”
“What are you doing here?” He’s direct, I’ll give him that. When a man with a physique like Cardoza says anything to you, even if it’s not funny, it helps to smile. So I smile. A part of me wonders if he th
ought I was hitting on his girlfriend, her being so super friendly and all.
“I just came in to introduce myself.”
“What for?” he growls.
I step back first, because that’s the logical and safe thing to do. Then I shake my head and hold my hands up. “I was passing by and I was just taking my chances.”
“That’s what I don’t like the sound of.”
“Eli!” His girlfriend places her hand across his chest. He’s dripping with sweat, but the way her hand lingers over his sleek muscles, as if she’s almost caressing them, makes me feel like the third wheel between these two. He stares at her, and I feel it in my blood.
Talk about sizzling chemistry.
These two are putting images in my head I have no right to be seeing. I shake my head as if to clear it.
“He’s looking for Nina,” his girlfriend tells him.
“What do you want with my sister?”
Holy shit. I almost take a step back. That’s got to be the sharpest warning to stay away from her. It suits me because it’s not her I’m after, it’s him.
I try to win him over. “I need to thank your sister,” I say, lowering my voice.
“For what?” Cardoza growls, staring at me as if he’d like to gouge my eyes out with his fingers. His manner is so abrasive, that I can’t think of a good excuse on the spot. So, I’m going to tell them the truth.
“Despite what the papers are saying, I didn’t injure myself on the set,” I announce. I’m aware that the studio’s PR machine tried to put a spin on things, but these two will obviously know what really happened.
“What?” Harper asks. Cardoza angles his head as if he’s suddenly taken an interest in the story. I stare at them and my jaw goes slack. I’m not so sure that they know they truth now. I tell them that I got mugged that night, and that I was set upon by two guys.
“What does my sister have to do with it?” the boxer asks. Sweat lines his face, and his muscles, and I steal a glance at them, and inwardly flinch.