Hollywood & Vine

by Olivia Evans

  “I’m not pouting. I just have certain expectations, and when those expectations aren’t met, it pisses me off.”

  “And those expectations would be?” Josie trailed off, rolling her wrist in the air. She was far more amused by his antics than she should be.

  “Food. I wanted dinner in my room, but that’s not possible after the kitchen closes. So I either eat whatever nasty, stale shit is in the vending machines or go to the dining area and eat whatever nasty, stale shit is in there.”

  Josie’s lip twitched as Anders’ face twisted with annoyance. She fake coughed and mumbled, “High maintenance.” Leaning over the side of the bed, she grabbed her shirt and slipped it on before shimming into her panties. She ignored the way Anders watched her with narrowed eyes as she hopped off the bed and crossed the room. Digging through her bag, she pulled out a granola bar and tossed it on Anders’ bare chest. “This isn’t stale or nasty. Dinner is served.” She bowed at the waist and swept her arm out wide with a flourish.

  “Does it get exhausting?” Anders ripped the wrapper from the granola and took a bite.

  “Does what get exhausting?”

  “Being a smart-ass all the time.”

  Josie moved to the bed and snatched the granola bar away. Breaking off a huge piece, she popped it into her mouth and shrugged. “I don’t know. Does being an asshole ever get exhausting for you?”

  “I’m not an asshole.”

  “And I’m not a smart-ass.”

  “You’re impossible.” Anders huffed and snagged the remainder of the bar.

  “It seems we at least have that in common.”

  “We’ve got to start somewhere, right?” Anders tugged her arm, pulling her to his side. He wasn’t a touchy-feely guy, but after being denied the opportunity to touch her for so long, he wasn’t going to pass up the chance.

  It was hours later when Anders slipped out of Josie’s room. He hadn’t expected to stay so long, but nothing involving Josie ever went as expected.

  The next morning, Josie shuffled from actor to actor working on last-minute adjustments. She hadn’t talked to Anders, but she knew he was close.

  “Hold still one more sec.” She pulled the safety pin from between her teeth and slid it into place on the hem of Dean’s shirt.

  “Thanks, Josie.” Dean grinned. His cheeks pinked when Josie winked and patted his shoulder.

  “No problem. Good luck. And be careful!” she called as he took off toward the director.

  “The casting department sucks. That guy is a horrible stunt double.” Anders crossed his arms and watched Dean chat with the director, purposefully avoiding eye contact with Josie.

  She mirrored his stance. “What are you talking about? Dean’s great.”

  Anders scoffed. “You want to know why that guy is nothing like me? Because you weren’t a smart-ass and not once did he look your tits.”

  Josie chuckled and lifted the hair from her neck to fan her heated body. “You’re half right.”

  Anders nodded, stopping suddenly and turning his face in her direction. “What do you mean, ‘half right’?”

  Josie tilted her chin, once again mirroring Anders’ position. Her sly smile caused Anders’ scowl to deepen. “I mean, you’re half right. I wasn’t a smart-ass.”

  Anders’ eyes narrowed, his gaze moving to Dean. “Are you telling me that guy was checking you out?”

  “Are you telling me you blame him?”

  “It’s unprofessional.”

  Josie choked when she sucked her gum down her throat. With watery eyes she struggled to breathe, her laughter trapped in her chest. Anders’ eyes widened as he pounded on her back.

  “Jesus, Josie! What the fuck?”

  She held up her hand to stop his assault and coughed twice before the gum flew from her mouth. She wiped the tears gathered in her eyes and tried to regain her composure.

  “Would you be more careful?” Anders hissed, realizing several people were staring.

  Josie sobered, her face shifting into a blank mask. Their time together the night before and easy banter moments earlier made her forget. No matter how many times he said he wanted her, she was still a dirty little secret. “It’s not my fault I found your hypocrisy funny. I’ll be sure just to choke next time.”

  Anders groaned. “Fuck, that’s not―”

  “Oh my gosh, Josie! Are you okay?” Amelia rushed between them, her chubby fingers pushing the glasses up her nose where they’d slid down her sweaty skin.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I just choked.”

  Amelia handed Josie a bottle of water and patted her back. “It’s a good thing Mr. Ellis was here.”

  “Yeah.” Josie took a swig of her water, her eyes flicking to Anders. “I’m lucky like that I guess.”

  Anders swore under his breath, but his expression gave away none of his inner turmoil.

  “Amelia, why don’t we let the others handle the rest of the afternoon? I can show you what I’m working on for a new script.”

  “Okay. I’ll meet you at the car?”

  “Yup.” Josie waited until Amelia was several feet away, then turned back to Anders. She stared at his back for a minute, his refusal to face her made her blood boil. “I don’t know the rules you’ve set for the fucking disaster we’re creating. I suggest you fill me in soon or else I’m going to forfeit.”

  She didn’t wait for a response as she turned and walked away. It wasn’t like she wanted grandiose displays of public affection, but was speaking to her out of the question? For the hundredth time she cursed whatever it was about him that refused to set her free.

  Anders spent the rest of the day on set alternating between glaring at Dean and kicking his own ass for not saying something to Josie before she left. She was right about one thing: If there was any chance of whatever they were doing working out, she needed to know the rules. She had to follow them.

  However, he wasn’t too bothered with how they’d left things this time. The reason was simple. For the next two weeks, no matter how hard she tried to avoid him, there was nowhere to go. He also had to admit arguing with her wasn’t what he had in mind either. Between scenes he grabbed his phone and sent a quick text, hoping it would be enough to calm her down.

  I’m sorry and you’re right. Meet me at my room later tonight when I get done?

  Anders pushed through the rest of the day and tried not to think about Josie or her radio silence. When he made it back to the room, he shoved the delivered food into the oven and took a shower. He’d just pulled everything out of the oven when Josie knocked on the door. Moving to the living room, he opened the door and without a word pulled her inside. She stumbled once then caught her footing.

  “Was that necessary?”

  “I figured it might be better to get you behind a closed door as quick as possible so you don’t try to bolt.” He tugged the end of her hair and grinned, not wanting to admit how much he believed his words.

  “Oh, I thought it was because you were worried someone would see me standing outside. Don’t worry, you’ve made it quite clear that I shouldn’t linger.”

  Anders’ smile slipped, and Josie mentally kicked herself. She didn’t mean for the first thing that came out of her mouth to be a smart-ass, bitchy remark, but Anders acting like nothing happened earlier bugged her.

  “Ivy, you know―”

  Josie shook her head and held up her hand. “No, Anders, I don’t know. But I will because we’re going to talk. I will do my best to reel in my smart-ass comments, and you will not be an asshole, okay?”

  “So you will try not to be a smart-ass, but I’m not allowed to be an asshole. Did I hear that right?” His smile was back, and it made Josie’s shoulders relax.

  “Well, yeah.” She shrugged. “But all of this will take place after you feed me whatever it is I smell because I’m starving.”

  Anders raised a brow and moved into the kitchen. “What makes you think I’m going to share my food?” He grabbed a couple of plates and set th
em on the bar before digging around the drawers for silverware.

  Josie kicked off her shoes and followed behind him. “Hey, I shared my food. The least you could do is return the favor.”

  The sardonic expression on his face matched the deadpan tone of his voice. “You had a granola bar.”

  “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

  “Impossible,” Anders muttered as he filled their plates.

  “Did you make this? Who am I kidding? Of course you didn’t, but this didn’t come from the kitchen. Where did you get it?”

  “I had Nathan send the staff to buy food that didn’t taste like cardboard. I wasn’t going to eat the awful shit they serve here for the next two weeks.”

  Josie stared at him slack-jawed, her fork half raised to her mouth. “Oh my God, you’re even more high maintenance than I realized.” She put her fork down and tsked. “You’re gonna be a lot of work.”

  “Whatever.” He dismissed her statement with a wave of his hand. “You can’t tell me you’d rather have the shit they serve in the dining room than what I have here. You’re reaping the benefits of my so called ‘high maintenance.’”

  Josie nodded, her face full of mock seriousness as she shoveled a bite of food in her mouth. “That’s true.”

  “It’s a damn good thing I can afford to since the other option would be one of us cooking. It’s safe to say, from what you’ve said, cooking is not your area of expertise.”

  “Sadly, no.”

  “Well, here’s to hoping I never run out of money or we’ll both starve when we’re older.”

  Josie’s hand shook as she set her fork down on the half-empty plate. Anders continued to eat, seemingly oblivious to the effect his comment had on Josie.

  But Anders did realize. As soon as the words left his mouth his entire body tensed. He kept up the pretense of eating, even though the food tasted like sawdust. He saw Josie’s reaction the moment he spoke. He wasn’t sure what bothered him more—the fact that he’d said it or that his statement caused the color to drain from her face. It was shitty to be bothered when he had one foot out the door, constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, but he wanted her invested. He wanted her to want him more.

  “Do you want a beer?” Anders pushed away from the bar and moved to the refrigerator, giving them both a moment to compose their faces.

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  Finishing their dinner in silence, they put their dishes away and moved into the living room. Stiff and unsure, they settled on opposite ends of the couch. Josie took a pull from her beer and looked around the room. “Why do you think this place is a shit hole? Compared to my room it’s like a five-star hotel.”

  “That’s not saying much, Josie. I feel bad that you’re staying there.”

  “It’s not that bad. Stop being such a brat.” She stretched out her leg and kicked his thigh. Before she could move, he grabbed her ankle and held her in place as he shifted to face her.

  “I’m sorry I snapped at you today.”

  Josie choked, causing beer to drip from her chin. “Well, shit,” she sputtered. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “Do you do that a lot?” Anders leaned over to the coffee table and grabbed a napkin, then tossed it in Josie’s lap.

  “Do what?”

  “Choke.”

  Josie opened and closed her mouth a few times before shaking her head and muttering. “Too easy.” Wiping the beer from her chin, she settled back on the couch. “Maybe if you stopped saying ridiculous things, I wouldn’t be caught off guard so much.”

  Anders nodded. “Fair enough.”

  “But now that you’ve brought up today, I have some questions. Why did you bother coming up to me if I’m not supposed to talk to you?”

  Anders sighed and scratched the side of his face. “I hadn’t talked to you all day, and you were smiling with Dean and he was smiling, and I don’t know…”

  “I never pegged you for the jealous type. I’m not sure how I feel about this development.”

  “I’m not the jealous type.” At least not until now, he added silently. The expression on her face reflected his thoughts.

  “So we’re not supposed to talk in public? We work together. I dress you every day. Why is it not okay for us to talk? It seems normal to me.”

  “Because I don’t chat with the crew. And I sure as hell don’t make them laugh.”

  Josie tried not to let it sting that he referred to her as part of the crew. Instead she pushed forward, needing answers. “So because you’ve been an asshole to every person on set for God knows how long, you and I aren’t allowed to talk? You know, you could just start being nicer to people. Then it wouldn’t be such a big deal.”

  “I’m not changing for anyone.” His clipped words and hard expression showed he would not negotiate.

  “Even if it’s something to make your life easier?” Josie’s frustration was clear.

  “Believe me, letting people get close doesn’t make life easier.”

  “But you’re trying with me.”

  “I am. And nothing about that has made my life easier.”

  “Then why am I here? If doing things like this”―she waved her hand between them―“is so hard for you, why bother?”

  “Because it’s like I told you. I don’t have any choice.”

  “What if I walked away? You wouldn’t have a choice then either but at least things would go back to normal for you.” Josie’s stomach tightened at the thought of walking out of his life. They were playing a game of Russian roulette, and at any moment the click of the gun would be followed with an ear-splitting bang. It terrified her to think about being on the receiving end of that blow.

  Anders’ brows dipped and his eyes darkened as he thought about what normal meant for him. An unwelcome image of the girl jacking him off under the table popped into his mind and made his grip tighten around his beer bottle. “You don’t want to walk away from me, Ivy.” His tone was chastising and playful, covering his insecurities.

  “I didn’t say I wanted to, but there’s no way what we’re doing is going to work. Christ, we can’t even talk in public. Are you going to become a recluse? Don’t you think people will notice if you suddenly stop going out? And if you think I’m going to be okay sitting at home while you go out and have women hang all over you, well, you’re out of your damn mind.”

  Anders smirked and took a swig of beer. “I never pegged you for the jealous type. I’m not sure how I feel about this development.”

  “It has nothing to do with jealousy. I’m not a doormat. I won’t compromise myself. For some reason I like you, and I think you like me too, so for that I’m willing to give a little, but I won’t throw me away. I won’t back burner myself because of your issues.”

  “Why does everything you say have to be laced with the threat of ending things?” Anders sat up and slammed his beer on the table. “Every time I say something you don’t like, you do that shit. You can’t keep threatening to walk away.”

  Josie sat up as well, her beer connecting with the table with just as much force. “Well neither can you, damn it. This isn’t just about you. You don’t get to make all the rules and just expect me to follow. I may be part of the crew on set, but here, when it’s just us, you’re not more important than me.”

  “So what do you want, Josie? Fucking sky writing?”

  Josie threw her arms in the air. “I want to be able to say hi!” Her cheeks darkened to a deep red as her annoyance grew. “And if you say something asinine, I want to be able to laugh without you biting my head off. I don’t want to take out a front-page ad that your dick is off the market. Because to be honest, I trust you about as much as you trust me. I don’t need us to go out. God, it would be a circus. I just need you to calm down. I hate to break it to you, but the world doesn’t revolve around you. No one cares what you do nearly as much as you think.”

  “Have you ever found people hiding in your bushes just to take your picture? Have you ever hidden
behind complete strangers and begged them to hold still while the pap you’ve been trying to lose walks by? Because I have. I’ve had to take out restraining orders because people are fucking crazy. So don’t tell me people don’t care about what I’m doing because they do, to the point where my life isn’t my own anymore.”

  Josie stared wide-eyed. The paparazzi in Los Angeles were horrible. She’d heard of the lengths they would go to snap a picture, but she’d never been involved with someone who dealt with them on a day-to-day basis. She’d always been on the outside looking in. Scrolling through websites, looking at magazines in the grocery store checkout line, and giving none of it a second thought. “I’m sorry.”

  Anders scooted closer. “I don’t want you to be sorry.” He tugged her arm and pulled her against his side. “I want you to trust me on this. I might not know everything, but this I know. We can talk on the set. You’re right. It wouldn’t be that big of a deal. But right now, let’s keep everything else private.”

  “Okay.”

  Anders pressed his lips against her temple, his eyes closing as relief washed over him. Sure, everything he said was true, but his reason for secrecy had much more to do with what he wanted than concerns over being hounded by the paparazzi.

  After that night, they fell into a routine of sorts. The hours on set were long and tiring. Combined with the unbearable heat, both were wiped out by the time they saw each other at night. But even exhausted, they remained the same.

  “It’s my turn.” Josie grabbed the remote and hopped off the couch.

  “No way, Ivy.” Anders shook his head and rose from the couch. “We’re not watching that shit.”

  “You picked what we watched last night. It’s my turn.”

  “Why can’t you pick something that’s at least useful? Like, I don’t know, a cooking show or something. Lord knows you need all the help you can get.” Anders scrunched his face as he thought about her recent attempt at cooking. When she said she was a horrible cook, he didn’t think it could be that bad. Even he could make something edible. Josie, however, couldn’t cook at all and would surely die if ever forced to survive on her own cooking.