by Iris Morland
Another actress said something that made everyone laugh again. Lucy was the one standing the closest to Hayden, her head tilted back as she drank in his every word. When Hayden touched her arm and leaned down to whisper something in her ear, Carter only realized a moment later he was clutching his drink so hard he was liable to shatter the glass.
He didn’t care who Lucy or Hayden slept with. He didn’t care if Hayden worked his way through every woman on this movie. Carter hadn’t come here to sleep around, mostly because he’d gotten bored with the one-night stands and the inevitable mornings where his date for that night would try to stay longer and he’d have to charm them into leaving.
Lately, though, the women knew he wasn’t in it for anything but a night. Maybe two nights, if he needed the distraction. His last escapade had ended when his date had orgasmed, then she’d kissed him quickly and gotten dressed. She’d left as soon as she’d arrived. Carter hadn’t been sure whether he should’ve been relieved or annoyed at how quickly she’d bounced.
He finished off his beer and was about to get another when his least favorite person sidled up to him. Jim had somehow managed to tame his hair tonight, but after each drink, it seemed to get bigger and bigger. By the end of the night, Jim would probably look like Albert Einstein after a bender.
“Look at him,” said Jim. “I don’t know how he does it. He comes into the room and everyone notices.”
Carter didn’t need to ask who “him” was. “Huh,” he grunted.
“It took fucking forever to get his damn agent to agree to the contract. He wanted more and more money, even though this isn’t some huge Hollywood project. The budget is good, but it’s not huge. You should’ve seen his list of demands for his trailer: bottled water from the Alps at an exact forty degrees, no warmer or colder. He has to have organic açai shakes every morning along with platters of some other shit I’d never even heard of. It was ridiculous.” Jim sighed happily. “But we got him.”
Carter was tempted to remind Jim that Carter was a huge baseball star and had been famous way before Hayden Masterson, but he refrained. It wasn’t worth antagonizing the man—at least not right now. Maybe tomorrow, when Carter was feeling up to it. Besides, he’d used up most of his Antagonizing Other People Energy on Lucy. He needed to recharge those batteries or he’d end up being a nice guy or something.
Speaking of Lucy—she giggled at something Hayden said. Carter caught Hayden sneaking glances at Lucy’s cleavage and he wanted to punch the guy in the face. He could at least be subtle about checking her out. Then again, Lucy seemed to be reveling in the actor’s attention. Carter wouldn’t be surprised if Hayden took her back to his place that night and fucked her from here to Sunday.
The thought of Hayden’s hands on the little spitfire made Carter want to punch him even more than he usually did. It was stupid, considering that Lucy wasn’t his in any sense of the word. The only thing she was to him was a woman he enjoyed baiting.
Sure, he found her attractive—those green eyes that reminded him of a cat’s; the way she blushed when she was irritated; how she tried to seem tall when she was small enough that Carter could probably fit her into his duffel bag. Not that he was into shoving women into duffel bags—God, he needed to stop drinking. His mind was thinking about weird shit.
“He’s going to make this movie big. Maybe bigger than any of us could’ve imagined.” Jim leaned against the wall and sighed again. “Hayden Masterson. I can’t believe it.”
Carter shot Jim an ironic glance. “He’s not a guarantee the movie will do well, though.”
“He’s pretty good fucking insurance. Nobody else in this movie has his draw.”
Hayden moved toward the bar, Lucy following him. They’d rented out the one nice bar here on Hazel Island for the cast party, although compared to the parties Carter had attended during his career, this was practically like having a get-together in someone’s basement. The most expensive liquor was probably some shit from Portland. No bottles of Macallan Scotch whiskey, Carter’s particular favorite, that cost over seventy-five thousand for a single bottle. Carter was pretty sure the beer he’d been drinking had been bought on sale at Costco.
Lucy had sat down next to Hayden at the bar, her dress inching up her creamy thighs. Hayden was all wide-toothed smiles, and he gestured at the bartender to bring Lucy another drink. Was he going to get Lucy drunk before he took her back to his place? Carter gritted his teeth. What a slimy asshole he was.
Carter looked away from the scene. It was none of his business. He was here to—what, work? When he’d asked Anthony what he’d actually be doing on this movie, Anthony had been vague. Make sure things don’t go to shit. Make sure the producers and writers don’t fuck things up. Make sure things stay on budget.
Carter had looked over the documents Anthony had sent him regarding the budget and scheduling, making notes where necessary. He wasn’t remotely qualified for this job, but Anthony hadn’t seemed overly concerned with that little detail. If Anthony didn’t care, then neither did Carter. Anthony had seemed more interested in giving Carter something to do that didn’t involve partying, drinking, or sleeping around.
Jim had left Carter’s side to talk to some other poor sucker about how much he loved Hayden Masterson. Carter watched in amusement as Jim interrupted Hayden and Lucy’s tête-à-tête at the bar.
Soon other cast members, including a leggy blonde, moved toward the bar. Hayden’s attention turned to the blonde, who was not at all subtle about throwing herself at him. Lucy, for her part, attempted to get his attention again, but she’d already been forgotten.
Lucy’s gaze collided with Carter’s. Instead of looking away, she lifted her chin in defiance. Carter chuckled. He raised his glass to her in a salute. She scowled and went to a table in the corner to talk with one of her castmates.
Carter considered going back to the bed-and-breakfast, but he decided he’d prefer another beer. If he was going to act like he gave a shit about this movie or Hayden or anything in his life that wasn’t baseball, he’d need a lot more alcohol in him.
Chapter Five
Lucy watched as one of the extras—Meredith? Marianne?—slid her hand up Hayden’s arms and batted her fake eyelashes. Not that Lucy had anything against fake eyelashes, but this M-named woman looked so fake overall that the eyelashes were the cherry on top.
“If you glare any harder, you’re going to singe a hole in her arm,” said Erin.
“I’m not glaring.”
“Okay. Staring, gazing upon. Whatever term you wanna use, babe. But don’t be too obvious.”
Lucy forced herself to turn her head so she could no longer see what Hayden was doing. She’d thought they were connecting earlier. But then Hayden had gotten distracted. Lucy couldn’t compete against multiple other women vying for his attention, not unless she did something crazy, like flash him.
She wasn’t yet so desperate as to show him her breasts in public, thank God. The green snake of jealousy still slithered around inside her, especially when she heard Hayden laugh.
“Didn’t you think there’s something between us?” said Lucy. “He was talking to me most of all tonight.”
Erin stirred her drink. “He did seem interested in you,” she conceded, “but you’re also a beautiful woman. Everyone knows Hayden Masterson loves his pretty ladies.”
“I’m more than that, though. We were talking about our favorite movies. His favorite actor is Al Pacino. He told me he’s seen Scarface at least fifty times; he has almost the whole movie memorized.”
Erin wrinkled her nose. “Scarface? Isn’t that every guy’s favorite movie besides Fight Club?”
Lucy stuck her tongue out at her friend. Okay, his favorite movie choice wasn’t all that inspiring, but Lucy didn’t care. She wanted him to turn his attention back to her. She wanted to keep talking about movies and acting and scripts and whether Stanislavski or Meisner had had the right idea when it came to acting methods. She wanted him to gaze down at her wi
th those golden eyes that made her shiver.
“Don’t you get it?” whispered Lucy as she once again turned to look at Hayden. “He’s…amazing.”
Erin let out a low groan, which Lucy pointedly ignored. Her drink empty, she rose to get another and to divert Hayden away from that fake leggy blonde.
Right as Lucy approached, Hayden stood, his arm around the blonde. Before Lucy could react, Hayden and the blonde walked out of the bar, a car’s engine signaling that they were most likely not coming back.
Lucy felt like she’d swallowed a rock. It doesn’t mean anything. He hasn’t gotten to know you yet. She’d known Hayden was a player. Well, she couldn’t judge him for that. Not that she was a player—she’d had three boyfriends since high school—but she understood why someone would be. Fame was a lonely thing: you were surrounded by people, yet who could you trust?
Lucy reassured herself with those thoughts, but they didn’t make her feel much better. Getting another drink, she wandered to a back hallway, which was blessedly quiet. She leaned against the wall and sighed.
“You know, guys like Hayden aren’t into women throwing themselves at him,” said a voice in the shadows. A voice that seemed intent on following Lucy everywhere she went.
This time, she wasn’t even surprised: merely irritated. And embarrassed that he’d been paying attention to her attempt at flirting with Hayden.
“Did I ask for your opinion?” she said. She scowled. “Where are you, anyway? Why are you standing in the dark?”
Carter emerged from the shadows, a beer in his hand. “I could ask you the same question.”
“I needed a breather. It’s loud in there.”
It was strange, but the dim light seemed to make Carter taller, almost intimidating. Then again, he didn’t have his usual smirk on his face. He was all stoicism, his brow furrowed as he leaned against the opposite wall from Lucy and crossed his arms.
“Did he go home with her?” he said quietly.
Lucy stilled, the hairs on the back of her neck lifting. She didn’t answer for a long moment, struggling against the desire to toss her drink into his face. But suddenly the fight went out of her as she remembered Hayden putting his arm around the leggy blonde.
“He’s not home here,” she said lamely. “But they did leave together, if that’s what you’re wondering. Why? Do you like her?”
“I don’t even know her name.”
Lucy snorted. “Does it matter?”
“What a cynical girl you are.”
She rubbed a finger against the condensation on her glass. “What did you mean? About men like Hayden?”
“Exactly what I said. Men like him want to chase a woman. A woman who makes things easy is boring.”
Lucy bristled. “I’m not easy.”
To her surprise, Carter seemed embarrassed. “I didn’t mean—I just meant men like to chase a woman for a little bit. It’s an instinctual thing.”
Lucy’s head started hurting. Mostly, she was confused. “Are you giving me advice?”
Carter finally smiled, but it had a tinge of bitterness to it. “Am I? I guess so.”
He stood up from the wall and moved closer to Lucy. Now she could smell the remnants of his cologne, and now that he was closer to one of the lights overhead, she could make out the stubble on his cheeks and jaw.
She looked away. She didn’t need to think about Carter as a man. He was a jerk—nothing more, nothing less.
“You want my advice?” he said quietly. “Make Hayden work for it. You’re too obvious around him.”
“I am not obvious!”
“Little spitfire, everyone in the bar could see your googly eyes for that guy. It was rather nauseating, in an adorable kind of way. Kind of like how a puppy idolizes its master. Sweet, adorable—but not alluring.”
Lucy hissed out a breath. She had the sudden urge to push Carter away from her, but he was so much taller and bigger than her that it would be like a fly pushing at an elephant. Annoying for the elephant, pointless for the fly.
“You know what you should do?” said Carter, despite Lucy’s lack of reply.
He tipped back his beer and swallowed. Lucy couldn’t help but watch the muscles in his throat, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed. Something hot and heavy pooled in her belly.
“You need to make Hayden jealous. Men can’t stand when they can’t have something—or someone. Right now, you’re too available. You’re easy. No, don’t get your feathers ruffled. You know what I mean.” Carter put his hand on the wall above Lucy’s head, effectively caging her in. She couldn’t look away from the intensity in his gaze.
“What are you saying?” she whispered.
“Be my girlfriend. Then watch Hayden fall at your feet.”
Lucy wondered if she was hallucinating from too much alcohol. She blinked, then blinked again, but Carter still stood over her, serious as ever.
“Are you drunk?” she said. “You are. You’re messing with me because you think I’m stupid and easy—”
“I’m not drunk.” He looked at his empty glass. “Okay, I might be a bit buzzed. But that’s it. I’m in my right mind.”
“Do you have a ‘right’ mind?”
“Touché. But you didn’t answer my question. Let’s date. Make a show of things. You’re an actress, so it should be easy.”
Lucy couldn’t breathe. Ducking under his arm, she darted down the hallway. Carter, of course, followed her.
“Why would you want to do this? What’s in it for you?” she said.
“The goodness of my heart? Wanting to see true love find its course?” He shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“Yeah, it kind of does.”
His lips quirked in that smile that drove her insane. He lifted her chin, his touch gentle but inexorable. “You’re right: I don’t care about charity.”
“What do you care about?” Her voice was breathless, her heart pounding.
His finger trailed down her throat until he pulled away. She told herself she wasn’t disappointed by it.
“How about we make this into a bet between each other?”
“What would I win?”
“Hayden, of course. Isn’t that what you want most?” His tone was mocking. “But I won’t lose. Because there’s no way you’ll choose Hayden over me.” He pressed closer until Lucy was forced against the wall. Only a finger’s breadth kept them apart. “You’ll tell yourself none of this is real, that it’s all a play. But soon you won’t be able to tell what’s real and what’s not. And when I kiss you, you’ll only want me to keep doing it, Hayden be damned.”
“You’re insane,” she whispered.
“Probably.”
They gazed at each other until Lucy was certain the temperature in the hallway had increased by several degrees. She couldn’t help but look at his mouth, wondering what it would be liked to be kissed by this egotistical, cocky asshole.
She shouldn’t, she knew. If Anthony and Thea found out… but why would they? They were in Seattle and had their own company to run. And it wasn’t like Lucy wasn’t an adult who could make her own decisions.
“What’s going on in that mind of yours?” said Carter.
“What if Anthony finds out?” She said the words before she could think of a reason why she shouldn’t.
Carter frowned. “What if he does? Is he somebody to you?”
Lucy shivered inwardly at the edge in Carter’s voice. “It’s just that he’s dating my sister Thea.”
Carter stared at her for a long moment until he let out an incredulous laugh. “Anthony is dating your sister? Fuck me. I should’ve known.” He peered at her, as if he were seeing her in a new light. “I see the resemblance. You look just like her.” He added in a lower voice, “Let them think what they want. You’re a big girl, aren’t you?”
Lucy stiffened her spine. He was right, damn him. Thea and Anthony could say whatever they wanted; she wasn’t beholden to them. And she wasn’t about to let the gauntlet Carter had thrown do
wn be ignored.
“You’re wrong. I won’t fall for you, because I’m stronger than you think. Besides, why would I fall for a guy who I hate with every fiber of my being?” she said.
“So then what do you have to lose?”
It was crazy, insane, it would end badly, it couldn’t work—every excuse that fluttered into Lucy’s brain tried to get her to say no. To walk away, go back to the bed-and-breakfast, and never think of this bizarre conversation ever again.
But Lucy hadn’t gotten where she was in life without taking some insane risks. What was one more?
“Fine,” she said. “Then we have a deal.”
Carter’s eyebrows rose, as if he were surprised. Then he stepped away and put out his hand. “Deal.”
She shook his hand, ignoring how the slide of his palm against hers made her heart flutter. She imagined silk sheets, kisses down her torso, his hands gliding across her skin.
“We’re not sleeping together, just so you know,” she blurted.
He smiled. “You keep telling yourself that, little spitfire, if it makes you feel safe at night.”
Carter didn’t know what time it was when he fell into his bed that night. He was drunk, and he had one particular little spitfire on his mind that made practical matters seem pointless. What did it matter if it was two in the morning and he had to be up by eight o’clock?
He could feel the softness of Lucy’s skin even now. He wondered if she was lying in her own bed, staring up at the ceiling, wondering what the hell she’d gotten herself into.
He chuckled. His head spun a little. His bottom lip was numb. That was never a good sign of sobriety. But at the moment, he didn’t give two shits that he’d have a nice hangover in a few hours.
Carter fell asleep on top of his comforter. That was when the dreams came.