The Rock Star (Hollywood Heartthrobs Book 2)

by Tabitha Bree

  Okay, enough is enough.

  I walk straight towards the group. “Dee, can I have a word?”

  Dee’s eyes dart around nervously. “Actually, I was just going with Sadie to—”

  “This’ll only take a minute.”

  Sadie looks between us and smiles shyly, backing away to join some of the extras, much to Dee’s dismay.

  “I haven’t seen you properly in a few days,” I say.

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “Mm,” I nod, trying to conceal my smile. “I bet.”

  It falls quiet, and the sea breeze makes the curly strands around her face dance in the air.

  “Are we going to talk about what happened behind the set the other day?”

  “I thought we were going to just forget about it.” She finally meets my eyes, and they stay glued for a few seconds longer. “I have to get back to work.”

  She turns to leave.

  “Dee?”

  She faces me, her chest inflating with air. I smile at her, shooting her a wink.

  “I won’t be forgetting it any time soon.”

  “Action!”

  Sadie and I back up towards the plank, and I raise my hands to shield from the sword pointed at my chest.

  “Making a captain walk his own plank,” I say to Viktor, who is standing there with weird mermaid scales glued to his chest. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t stick to any kind of code.”

  Viktor laughs, crackling and booming at the same time. It’s a brilliant villain cackle. “I have a code, boy. It’s to rule the seas, and slay anyone who gets in my way.”

  “And what of Mary? Why isn’t she walking with her sister and I?”

  “I have no use for the two of you.” He shakes his sword at us. “But Mary…” He leers at Emma, who is currently held captive by the other sea creatures. “Mary, I will find a use for…” He chuckles deep in his throat as she whimpers. For such a genuine guy in real life, he can play a really convincing creeper.

  “I’ll kill you,” I say, lowering my voice a few octaves. “I’ll kill you, and all your fish men.”

  Viktor snorts and steps towards me, nose to nose. “I think it’s a bit late for that, don’t you?”

  “Cut!”

  Katherine walks to the monitor and watches the take on playback, frowning, but nodding her head.

  “That was great, gentlemen. I think we got it. Let’s set up for the next shot.”

  The crew moves equipment around, wheeling the camera dolly and picking up cables.

  “Great work,” Viktor says, patting me on the shoulder before walking away. I try to conceal the smile on my face. His approval seems somehow fatherly, and it’s been a while since anyone approved of anything I did.

  I look out at the ocean below the plank. It’s lucky it’s warm out. I wouldn’t mind a quick dip in the sea.

  “You ready for this?” I ask Sadie, who at this moment looks like she’s going to pass out. “Hey, are you okay?”

  “This is a little bigger than the pool, am I right?”

  “Yeah, you could say that.”

  She nods, exhaling between her lips. “I just have this little thing with water… and jumping from heights.”

  “I’m sure they could get a stunt girl to do it?”

  “No, no.” She shakes her head. “I want to do it. I want to make a good impression. This is my first feature… I just don’t want to make a scene with my nerves.”

  As I watch her methodically breathe in and out, it dawns on me I know nothing about this girl. I’ve probably been a bit of a dick on set, especially the last time we worked together.

  “Is everything okay over here?” Dee asks. It appears her concern for Sadie outranks her need to keep her distance from me. But right now, I’m more focused on the hyperventilating girl beside me than flirting with Dee.

  “Everything’s fine. Me and Sadie were just going over some pre-performance exercises together, weren’t we?”

  Sadie nods, looking at Dee with wide eyes. Dee looks between us, narrowing her stare in suspicion, before taking my word for it. “Okay. Sadie, call me if you need me?”

  As she leaves us alone, Sadie grabs my arm. “I don’t want to lose it in front of Dee.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she’s such a bad ass. I was already freaking out to her when we did the last fall scene. And now I’m jumping into the ocean.”

  “Well, if it makes you feel any better, your character is meant to be shitting herself, so at least you’ll be convincing.”

  The look on Sadie’s face says this isn’t very reassuring. “What if I can’t even jump? What if they call action and I’m just glued to the plank like an idiot?”

  “Um…” I try to think of the best way to console her. “Then you’ll make the bloopers reel?”

  She laughs and slaps my arm, but she still looks terrified.

  “How about this,” I say. “I used to get wild nerves before I went on stage for a live show. I’m talking sweaty palms, butterflies, nervous diarrhea kind of nerves.”

  “Gross.” She laughs and scrunches up her face.

  “I’m fully serious.”

  “Really? You always looked so calm on stage.”

  I smile. It’s been so long since anyone has talked about my music career positively. “Thanks. But that was because I knew how to calm my ass down before I left the holding room. Try this.” I take my thumb and press it to my right nostril. “Breathe in for four.” I inhale deeply, and then move my finger knuckle to my left nostril to block it. “And out for four. You try.”

  She nods, mimicking my movements.

  “There we go. In for four… out for four…” I coach.

  We sit there, doing this technique for a while, and eventually her shoulders are down and her face is relaxed. She looks at me and smiles bashfully. “Thank you.”

  “It’s no problem. Now, when we get up there, just pretend we’re on a fun summer vacation. Cowabunga, dude.”

  She snorts a laugh. “You know, you’re not how I imagined you’d be. Not now that I’ve actually had a chance to talk to you.”

  I look across the deck and see Dee watching us, and if I’m not mistaken, is she… smiling? She sees me catch her and starts talking to Jayden.

  I grin at Sadie, helping her to her feet.

  “Well, here’s to first impression do-overs.”

  11

  Dee

  Inhale, belly rise.

  I expand my stomach, imagining the oxygen filling me like a balloon filling with helium.

  Exhale, belly fall.

  I release the air through my nostrils, allowing my stomach to deflate and my shoulders to sink toward the floor.

  I am very much an ‘eye on the prize’ kind of girl. I know what I want and I know how I’m going to get it. Which is why I recently added some positive manifestation exercises to my daily routine. Of course, because I’m back to chaperoning Xavier around, I only have about five minutes to spare in the mornings to do it. But I’m going to make those five minutes count for something.

  I open my eyes and they rest on the large photo I have of Michelle Obama hanging on the wall. I got it signed by her at a Women of Color Summit, which made the quote underneath all the more empowering.

  “Always stay true to yourself and never let what somebody says distract you from your goals.”

  I focus on the words for a few seconds, thinking about what they mean to me. I’ve had a lifetime of people telling me I won’t make it, that I should pick an easier path. The odds are already against me; being a woman, the color of my skin. But I refused to believe I didn’t deserve the things I want in life, or that I should settle for anything less. I didn’t want my dreams to land on my single dad’s shoulders, so I worked for the scholarships. I made it through film school. I got myself to where I am today, and I’m damn proud of it.

  Which is probably why I have such a hard time dealing with entitled, privileged people. They have no idea how much effor
t goes into climbing the ladder when you don’t have a giant boost at the start.

  One particular face comes to mind—Xavier.

  He is an example of someone who has done precisely nothing to prove his worth for a leading role in a major motion picture. And that joke of an audition was just a chance for him to tickle Nolan’s balls a little, remind him of what a huge following he had and how much publicity it would bring to the film.

  But despite this, I have to admit… Xavier actually has some talent in the acting department—when he isn’t drunk or hungover. Not that I would ever say that to his face.

  For the last couple of weeks, he has been cooperating, which is still shocking to me. What is also shocking is that he hasn’t brought up that fucking horrifying lapse in judgment, also known as the time we kissed. He seems to be behaving himself, in all senses of the word, and it definitely makes my life easier. At least I don’t have to worry that our commute to the studio together will end in us horizontal in my back seat.

  A weird, tingling feeling shoots through my pelvis.

  Fuck. Why are you thinking about being horizontal in the back seat??

  I shake the thought away from me like a mosquito and finish getting ready for work.

  The drive to the studio with Xavier is quiet, as it usually is lately. He goes over his lines in the car, and I have to stop myself from smiling as he tries to nail the pirate-y British accent. When we arrive to the lot, he goes straight to the makeup trailer without me nagging him. Though he does still depart with a crooked smile and a wink.

  Always the damn wink.

  And as always, I get a flutter in my stomach that I despise.

  This is how I know the kiss with him was a colossal mistake—it broke down my barrier. I feel exposed, vulnerable to the raw sex appeal that is Xavier Black. I’ve felt his hands around my waist, his tongue in my mouth.

  His raging erection against my leg.

  I can’t let myself think about it again. I can’t let myself get off track. Just like the quote says, I can’t let anything or anyone distract me from my goals. Even if they have a body so ripped, I fantasize about dragging my nails across it.

  Like those. You can’t have thoughts like those.

  I shake my head and march towards the production office, getting my head back in the game. I’ve only gone over the call sheet for the day for a second when Katherine comes in, slapping a magazine down on the desk.

  “We have a problem.”

  Joy. Just the words I love hearing her say.

  I look down at the cover and see a photo of Xavier in a supermarket parking lot, sitting in the driver’s seat of his car with the door open, a brown paper bag in hand. My eyes scan the headline.

  Xavier Black-out Drunk

  Below is a small picture of his celebrity ex-girlfriend, Willow, accompanied by a quote: “It’s always been a problem. I just hope he gets help before it’s too late.”

  My eyes flick back to Katherine. “This came out today?”

  “It’s everywhere; all over the tabloids, online. We need to get a handle on this. Especially with our location shoot coming up.”

  Katherine is talking about our week on location, shooting in the Hawaiian jungle. I’ve been looking forward to it for weeks.

  I look back at the photo of Xavier, bunching my eyebrows together. “I thought he’s been doing better. It’s not like he’s showing up to set drunk anymore. He seems like he’s looking after himself.”

  Katherine sighs, shaking her head and tilting her hips to half-sit on the desk. “I’ve been keeping a close eye on you these past few weeks, Dee.”

  Oh my God.

  Does she know about the fucking kiss?

  My mind goes into overdrive. How could anyone know? Has Xavier fucking told people??

  “Oh?” is all I manage to squeak.

  “Yes.” She sweeps her auburn hair over her shoulder. “You’re motivated, you work hard, you have real potential.”

  I let myself exhale, my chest relaxing into my torso. “Um… thank you.”

  “I have a film lined up after this is done… it’s really something. And I can see you on my team.” She stands up from the desk. “It has everyone; Brad, Meryl, Leo, Chris…”

  “Which Chris?”

  “Does it matter?” She cocks her head and smirks.

  No. It doesn’t matter.

  All the famous Chrises are equally hot as fuck.

  “You’re exactly the kind of female force I like to have on my set, willing and able. This would be a great opportunity for you.”

  I try to conceal the dorky grin that’s making its way to my face. “I mean, I would be honored.”

  “But you need to work on your hard outer shell,” she goes on.

  “Sorry, I’m not sure I’m following.”

  Katherine interlaces her fingers. “Women in the industry tend to be easily overrun, emotionally manipulated. You need to learn how to block out the noise and get the job done.”

  She taps the magazine with a strong finger.

  “This is exactly the kind of publicity we don’t want for this film, and Xavier Black is exactly the kind of trouble that could derail us. Don’t go thinking that because he’s had a couple of good weeks, he’s on our side. He’s not. Keep him under control. If anything, this shows us he’s still a ticking time bomb. Scandal follows people like him around like a bad smell.”

  She takes a couple of steps towards me.

  “Being in this business isn’t about making friends, or seeing the best in people. It’s about doing whatever it takes to succeed, and not letting anyone get in the way.”

  She picks up the magazine, handing it to me.

  “Now, can I count on you to handle this?”

  I take a deep breath, nodding my head.

  “I can handle it.”

  “What the hell do you call this?”

  I’ve made a point of avoiding Xavier’s trailer ever since… well, you know what. But today I make an exception. I waited until we wrapped for the day and as soon as I saw him step into his trailer, I followed.

  I slap the magazine down on his coffee table.

  Xavier cocks his head to the side, reading the headline. “I call it lazy journalism.”

  “You’re literally sitting behind the wheel with a bottle of booze in your clutches. What else is there to interpret?”

  He laughs through his nose. “If you don’t know the paparazzi’s ability to make an orgy out of a prayer circle, you clearly haven’t had them target you before.”

  “Enlighten me.” I put my hands on my hips.

  He rubs at his eyebrows. “Um… I was having a bad night and grabbed a bottle of rum at the supermarket. I had a quick sip in the parking lot, and then put it away before I drove home. That’s it.”

  “And you thought that was a sensible idea, did you?”

  “Clearly, it wasn’t my best decision,” he groans, swiveling the magazine around so he can read the whole thing properly. His face falls, and I wonder if it’s because of the quote from his ex. He picks up the magazine and tosses it in the trash can. “But you shouldn’t believe all the shit they write.”

  “Look, I’m not sure what’s going on in your personal life, but we can’t have pictures taken of you getting sauced and then getting behind the wheel. It’s simply not fucking great for business. Shockingly.”

  “They’re always going to find something to publish,” he says, lifting his hands in the air. “They’re vultures. I could go for a run and they’d say I was chasing a fucking endangered species to cook for my dinner.”

  I grimace. “Well that’s hardly believable. You’re not exactly the hunter gatherer type.”

  He smiles wryly. “My point is, I could be a fucking saint and they would find shit to say about me. I’m not going to watch my every move just to minimize the chances of stories getting out about me.”

  I exhale forcefully. This is what Katherine was talking about; letting people get under your skin by acti
ng like the victim. Xavier was just trying to make me feel sorry for him, so I’ll give him a longer leash. Pretend the world was out to get him, so I’ll go easier on him. Well fuck that. It’s my job on the line. If he doesn’t care about his, whatever. But he sure as hell isn’t going to derail my chances of impressing Katherine.

  “Here’s the thing, Black, I’m not asking.”

  I step toward him, repeating my Michelle Obama mantra in my head.

  “From now until the day we wrap you’re going to be the poster boy for good behavior, the icon of sobriety. I know you’re Mr. Party Boy, but enough of that shit. If I catch wind of you so much as looking at a bar, you will be sorry.”

  Yes, put your damn foot down. You are the boss here.

  Xavier tilts his head and smiles sympathetically, like I’ve just attempted a party trick and landed on my face. “Are we really doing this again? The whole ‘I’ve got my eye on you’ thing?” He laughs, crossing his arms. “Here’s the thing, Moore. This isn’t my first rodeo. The paparazzi have said stuff about me a million times before, and they will do again. I haven’t let them run my life before, and I don’t intend to start. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m committed to this film. But if you think I’m going to hole up in my house until it’s done, you’re kidding yourself.”

  His phone buzzes on the table next to us, and he picks it up to read a message. His face turns stormy.

  “The truth is, I’ve had enough of being pushed around,” he says, stuffing his phone into his pocket and grabbing his keys. “I have to go take care of something.”

  And before I can kick his ass into line, he’s gone, headed for his car like a man on a mission.

  12

  Xavier

  I pull over on the side of the road and turn off the engine. And there’s that déjà vu feeling again. Except this is worse than seeing Mike. By a long shot.