My One and Only

by Iris Morland

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  Love, Iris

  My One and Only

  The Youngers Book 4

  Iris Morland

  Blue Violet Press LLC

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Enjoy this exclusive excerpt

  Also by Iris Morland

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2019 by Iris Morland

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover art by Resplendent Media.

  Chapter One

  After ten takes that lasted throughout the morning and into the afternoon, Lucy Younger heard her stomach growl so loudly that she was pretty sure anyone within a five-mile radius would’ve heard it, too.

  “Cut!” yelled the director, Jim Stanton. Jim had a swath of silver hair that tended to expand outward as the day progressed. Lucy wondered if it was from the humidity, or if Jim’s hair expanded as he got more irritable with every take that he inevitably hated. It was rather like watching a cat fluff out its fur, arching and hissing at some threat.

  “That’s a wrap for now,” said Jim. “Go get some lunch.” He shot Lucy a sardonic glance, and she had a feeling he’d heard her stomach growling. Well, if he let them have lunch breaks before three in the afternoon, she wouldn’t be so damn hungry!

  Lucy had arrived on Hazel Island in the Puget Sound to film The Last Goodbye a week ago. It was her first movie, and although it was a smaller indie one, it was a huge opportunity for her. If she could stop doing small commercial bits or community theater… her heart did a little happy dance at the thought of becoming a bona fide movie star. Or at the very least, an indie darling.

  Lucy grabbed a plate of food, the rest of the cast and crew milling nearby. They had filmed this scene outside, not far from the water, and Lucy inhaled the scent of salt and sand with satisfaction. Coupled with the clear blue summer sky and the warm day, it was impossible not to be happy. She couldn’t stop smiling.

  “Lucy!” Erin White, Lucy’s castmate, grabbed Lucy by the elbow. “Did you hear that Hayden Masterson was cast?”

  Lucy’s eyes widened. After the film’s original lead actor had dropped out suddenly, everyone had been on pins and needles, waiting to see who would be cast instead. Hayden Masterson was Hollywood’s biggest actor, and after an Oscar nomination this year for a widely acclaimed role, he was the talk of the town.

  Lucy had gotten to meet Hayden in person a year ago at a cast party another actress had invited her to. Lucy had been tongue-tied and nervous, but Hayden had gone so far as to ask Lucy about her work and to buy her a drink. He’d been so handsome that Lucy had almost swooned at his feet. When their fingers had brushed after he’d handed her a drink, she’d fallen head over heels for him.

  She’d been crushing on him ever since. She even had his photo as her phone’s background, and she might also have bought herself a signed photo from his website for her birthday.

  “Are you serious?” said Lucy.

  Erin nodded. “I just talked to the casting director. Hayden is going to play Malcolm. He’s coming up here in a few days to start filming!”

  Lucy almost staggered, her heart pounding. She clutched at Erin’s arm like Erin was a lifesaver in the middle of the wide ocean. “Are you serious? Hayden Masterson? Are you sure it’s him?” she demanded.

  “Yeah, I’m serious!” Erin grabbed Lucy by the shoulders. “Lucy Younger, you’re going to be playing opposite Hayden Masterson. You get to kiss him. This is really happening, girlfriend!”

  Lucy’s piece of bread fell off her plate onto the ground, but she didn’t care.

  She’d get to see Hayden again. She’d get to know him, to act right alongside him. He wouldn’t just be somebody she dreamed about every night. He wouldn’t just be a handsome man in a photograph, his scrawling signature in the corner of the black-and-white headshot. It’d really be him. She couldn’t believe it.

  She didn’t know how the producers had managed to get him to agree to star in this little indie film. Maybe they’d sacrificed a virgin to get him to sign on. Maybe he was bored with the bigger Hollywood movies and wanted something different. Maybe it was because Mercury was in retrograde, and wasn’t that supposed to make things weird in the universe?

  “What am I going to do?” Lucy shot Erin a terrified glance.

  Erin laughed. “Don’t look at him like you’re going to puke, for one.”

  “Am I dreaming? Pinch me. Throw a bucket of ice water on me.”

  Erin pinched her so hard that Lucy yelped.

  “Okay, okay, it’s real! No more pinching,” said Lucy.

  Erin flashed her a grin. A pretty woman with auburn hair and an exuberant laugh, Erin had become Lucy’s friend after they’d had one ridiculous conversation about their favorite cat memes. Erin had a smaller part in the film than Lucy, who’d somehow managed to get the lead role despite not having any movie experience. Lucy’s resume, though, was as long as her arm, with parts in anything her agent could land her: commercials, plays, short indie flicks and everything in between.

  Lucy had played everything from a woman dying of cancer to a crazy stalker ex-girlfriend to a dumb blond friend. If you printed out a list of stereotypical roles for women in Hollywood, Lucy had done them all. She’d recently done a commercial where she was a woman suffering from irritable bowel syndrome and had found the perfect medication to treat it. That had been both a highlight and a low point in Lucy’s not-so-illustrious career. It had taken her close to nine years—Lucy had just turned twenty-seven earlier in June—to snag a role like this.

  “Ten more minutes and we’re going to start the next scene,” said Jim as he passed by Lucy. “Head over to wardrobe to get changed.”

  Lucy wolfed down her food in record time. Checking the time, she realized that she had five minutes to change before Jim would yell at her for being late. She hurried to the costumes trailer without looking where she was going.

  As she wrenched open the trailer door, she ran straight into a hard, muscular chest.

  “Whoa there,” said a deep male voice, large hands steadying Lucy.

  Lucy looked up—and up, and up—to see laughing blue eyes gazing down at her. Although the man wasn’t classically handsome, he was certainly striking with those eyes of his. With his dark hair and cleft chin, he could easily be featured in the pages of a magazine as a fashi
on model, lounging around in clothing that cost more than Lucy made in a year. Lucy had done a few modeling projects in between acting gigs, and this guy fit the profile exactly. He even smelled expensive.

  “I’m used to women throwing themselves at me,” the man drawled, his voice like velvet against Lucy’s skin, “but this is a bit much.” His gaze traveled from her face to her chest before taking a leisurely survey of her entire body.

  Lucy blushed, irritation flashing in her eyes. Of course she’d run into some schmuck when she was in a hurry. Hopping away from him, she replied crisply, “I need to get into the trailer.”

  He clucked his tongue. “Not even one little sorry for practically running me over?”

  Lucy rolled her eyes and tried to push past him. “I’m not a liar, so no, I’m not apologizing because I’m not sorry.”

  The man leaned against the door frame, effectively blocking Lucy’s way. Considering he was over a head taller than Lucy’s five-foot-two-inch frame, there was no way she would get around him. She growled under her breath. Why did she always have to deal with the jackasses on set?

  Lucy took in the man’s appearance, noting that he wore ripped-up jeans and an old t-shirt. Despite his looks, he wasn’t dressed like anyone important. He looked like he could be some guy who worked behind the scenes. Besides, if he were someone important, she would’ve met him already. Lucy had been introduced to the producers and director the first day she’d arrived on Hazel Island.

  This strange man, whoever he was, kept smiling down at her. The smile was slow and heated, and something curled in Lucy’s belly. She ignored it. She didn’t have time for handsome assholes making her life difficult.

  “You’re a little spitfire, aren’t you?” he said. “I like a woman with spirit.”

  “Cool. I didn’t ask for your opinion. And you’re in my way, in case you didn’t hear me the first time.”

  “So you’ve said.”

  Lucy crossed her arms. “What’s your deal? Do you enjoy harassing random women?”

  “Whoever said anything about harassing?” His smile widened, his teeth flashing.

  “If this is how you pick up women, you’re terrible at it.”

  “I caught your attention.”

  Lucy growled under her breath, and the man laughed. Finally stepping aside, he raised his arm with a flourish. “After you, little spitfire.” Leaning down before she could pass by him, he whispered in her ear, “But when you see me again, try not to throw yourself at me. Men like some mystery.”

  Lucy glared daggers at the man’s back as he laughed again and walked back onto set. But soon her costume change provided her with a much-needed distraction, the obnoxious stranger forgotten.

  The afternoon’s filming began with a scene with Lucy and Erin on set. Lucy’s character, Miranda, was described as “an overworked career woman whose fiancé left her at the altar three months prior.” In this scene, Miranda told Erin’s character, Layla, how she’d run into her ex-fiancé at the local farmer’s market. It had not gone well.

  “He looked good,” said Lucy/Miranda in a voice that became progressively higher-pitched. “Why did he look good? He should’ve gotten fat and sad. But he looked tan! Why is life so unfair?”

  “Cut! Cut, cut, cut.” Jim rose from his chair. “You sound like you’re screeching,” he said to Lucy. “This scene should be emotional and funny, but not ridiculous. You’re playing Miranda like she’s a joke. Do you think she’s a joke?”

  Lucy blinked. “No, of course not.”

  “Then stop playing her like one.”

  Out of the corner of Lucy’s eye, she saw someone approach the set. To her immense dismay, it was the obnoxious man from the trailer. Was he stalking her now?

  “Are you listening to me?” Jim’s voice brought Lucy back to the present. “We don’t have time to do a million takes because you don’t feel like trying, Miss Younger.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ll do better,” stammered Lucy. She could feel the obnoxious man’s gaze on her, and she blushed, knowing that he was seeing her get scolded like a five-year-old.

  When Jim returned to his director’s chair, Erin whispered to Lucy, “You got this. Jim’s got a stick up his ass.”

  As Lucy and Erin did three more takes, Lucy watched as the obnoxious man prowled the set. With his dark hair and rangy build, he reminded Lucy of some predator, like a panther stalking its prey.

  She shivered at the thought that he might be stalking her. But why would he? He didn’t know her. He was just some guy who liked to mess around with people. She’d be better off ignoring him entirely.

  After the second take, the obnoxious man brought one of the writers a cup of coffee. He must be her assistant. She had no idea why Pamela would have such an annoying assistant, or why he got to dress like a bum at work. Then again, maybe he was more useful as eye candy than actually assisting anyone.

  “Do you know who that is?” said Lucy to Erin in between takes.

  Erin glanced over at where Lucy had gestured. “Who? That guy?”

  “Yeah. I ran into him earlier.”

  Erin’s eyes widened, but right as she was about to speak, Jim barked, “We’re doing one last take before we end for the day. Places!”

  Lucy almost forgot about the obnoxious man watching her as she worked. Every time she did a scene—no matter how many takes it took—she was reminded of why she’d wanted to be an actress in the first place. Throwing herself into a character, letting herself become someone else, was one of the headiest and most addictive experiences she’d ever known.

  For a while, she was no longer Lucy Younger, a nobody actress with too many bills that she needed to pay. Instead, she got to be Miranda Leighton: career woman, CEO, and a woman on a mission to move on from an ex-fiancé who’d broken her heart.

  After Lucy’s last line, Jim said, “That’s a wrap for today. Finally, you did a take that didn’t make me want to light myself on fire.”

  Lucy barely stifled an incredulous laugh. “Um, thanks?”

  But Jim had already turned to talk to someone else. Lucy was thankful to avoid both his backhanded compliments and his wrath.

  “Great job on that last take,” said Pamela with a beaming smile. “That’s one of my favorite scenes. I had to fight the other writers to get it included, but I finally prevailed.”

  Lucy smiled. “Thank you. I didn’t want Miranda to come off too desperate. I was afraid my performance might be stilted.”

  “Not at all. You have a wonderful way of expressing yourself with just your face. I could tell exactly what you were thinking without you saying a word.”

  “You are very expressive,” said a voice that made Lucy stiffen.

  “Have you met Lucy already?” said Pamela to the obnoxious man.

  He smiled that smile that made Lucy want to stomp on his foot. “Oh yes, we’ve met.”

  The way he looked at her stoked her wrath. Was he making fun of her? Lucy had put up with too many smarmy actors who’d assumed she was nothing but an easy lay to put up with this guy, too. And he was Pamela’s assistant: he didn’t get to talk to the lead actress like this. She didn’t understand why Pamela wasn’t telling him to back off, but maybe they had some strange relationship. Maybe they were dating.

  “We ran into each other,” said Lucy in a tight voice.

  “Literally. Ms. Younger here practically threw herself at me.” He winked.

  Pamela blinked in surprise, but she didn’t tell her assistant to back off. That made Lucy angrier.

  “Is this how you talk to actors on set? Because if so, your approach needs some work,” Lucy shot back, no longer caring about being polite.

  “Lucy—” whispered Erin behind her, but Lucy ignored her.

  “Yet you seem to be the one whose feathers are all ruffled,” countered the obnoxious man.

  Lucy curled her fingers into a fist, and she found great satisfaction in imagining punching the guy in the jaw.

  “Why don’t you be usefu
l and get me a cup of coffee? That is your job, isn’t it?” said Lucy scathingly, raising her voice so people could see that she was the one in control, not this asshole.

  Pamela’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline; Erin made a choking sound. Lucy glared up at the obnoxious man, daring him to tell her no. Assistants should assist people, not antagonize them.

  Lucy soon realized that everyone on set had stopped what they were doing. She could practically feel their collective gazes. A blush climbed up her throat.

  “Do you want cream and sugar?” said the man, his voice sweet.

  Lucy squared her shoulders. “Yes. Both.”

  As the man went to get Lucy her coffee, Erin grabbed her arm and squeezed her so hard that Lucy gasped.

  “What is it?” said Lucy.

  Erin shook her. “Don’t you know who that is?”

  “He’s Pamela’s asshole assistant. Can you believe he talked to me like that?”

  “Assistant? Lucy!” Erin dug her fingers into Lucy’s arm so hard that Lucy yelped.

  “Ow, you’re hurting me—”

  “You idiot! He’s that huge baseball player! Didn’t you recognize him? He plays for the Seattle Orcas.”

  Something niggled in the back of Lucy’s mind. Her throat closed as dread filled her, and her palms became cold with sweat.

  “Then why—?” whispered Lucy.

  Right then, the obnoxious man returned and handed Lucy her cup of coffee with a sardonic bow.

  “Lucy, have you met Mr. Roberts?” said Pamela in a strained voice.