Once Upon a Bad Boy--A Sometimes in Love Novel

by Melonie Johnson

  She notched her chin up, drew her belly into her spine, took a breath, and lifted her hand. He nodded, his movement like the flick of that first domino, sending everything tumbling in quick, precise succession.

  Here we go.

  Sadie leapt into motion, boots striking the platform rhythmically with solid confidence as she picked up speed. By the time her brain caught up with her body, it was over, and she was laid out on the crash mat, breathless as she stared up at the camera crew. I did it. Sadie’s heart soared inside her chest. I fucking did it. She whooped with joy.

  Golden-brown eyes appeared over the edge of the mat. “All good?”

  “I did it!” Sadie crowed.

  “You sure did,” Bo agreed, pressing down on the edge of the inflatable mat and rolling her toward him.

  Straight into his arms. She got to her feet, holding on to Bo, legs wobbly as adrenaline pumped through her veins, hard and fast, making her giddy. “I fucking did it!”

  “Mm-hmm.” He cocked an eyebrow and helped steady her. “Now get back up on that platform and do it again.”

  After several more runs, Sadie was finally allowed to take a break. She settled gingerly into a chair. Everything hurt.

  “Sore?” Bo asked, plopping down in the chair next to hers and handing her a water bottle.

  “A little.” Sadie turned the cap, trying to ignore the sudden crackle of awareness zinging along her nerves. “No offense, but what made you decide to do this for a living?”

  Bo chuckled softly. “Do you remember that time I jumped off the roof of the tractor barn?”

  Sadie’s eyes widened, surprised he’d brought up the past so lightly. “I do.” She recalled the details and smiled ruefully. “I also remember it did not go well.”

  “No, it did not,” Bo agreed. “But I didn’t give up. I kept practicing. Teaching myself how to fall from a great height without getting hurt.”

  “I’m not sure that can—or should—be taught.”

  “Why not? With enough practice, I learned how to develop body rolls that allowed me to land safely.” He paused, a sheepish grin crossing his face. “Relatively safely. I still get a few thumpers now and then.”

  “Thumpers?”

  “Bruises.”

  “Oh.” Sadie carefully rotated her shoulder. “After today, I think I have more than a few of those.” And she’d thought the gym kicked her ass. “You were always jumping off stuff.”

  “I was a stupid kid.”

  “I would never call you stupid.” Sadie took another sip of her water, watching him from the corner of her eye. This was easier than she’d expected, talking about their past. It felt okay. Good, even. “Reckless? Yes. Impulsive? Maybe. I never knew what wild adventure you would dream up next.”

  “Neither did I.” The sheepish grin was back. “It’s funny you use the word ‘dream.’ That’s exactly what I would do. I saw myself doing these amazing things in my dreams, and figured, if I can do them there, I can do them in real life too.”

  Sadie looked at Bo, not sure if he was pulling her leg. She realized she hoped he wasn’t. She liked thinking he believed in his dreams. “Maybe I should give that a try sometime.” She glanced up at the window frame she’d somersaulted through. “Though I hope, after getting through today’s nightmare of a stunt, the rest of this week will be a piece of cake.”

  CHAPTER 9

  A FEW NIGHTS later, Sadie stood in her apartment’s bathroom, her best friend crowding in next to her. “Thank you for coming over.” She smiled, meeting Ana’s reflection in the mirror.

  Ana returned the smile, reaching for Sadie’s hand and squeezing. “Of course.”

  “I feel like I’m getting ready to go into surgery tomorrow or something,” Sadie admitted. “Not preparing to cut my hair.”

  “Well, you are preparing to cut off a piece of you,” Ana said, running a hand through Sadie’s locks. “Several pieces, if you want to get technical.”

  Sadie watched in the mirror as her blond waves swished around her ears. Her hair was already short, but in less than twenty-four hours, it would be much, much shorter. Tomorrow she’d be filming what Sylvia called the “transformation scene” and Sadie was nervous as hell. She hadn’t expected to be this anxious. Only a few days ago, she’d jumped out of a window. Multiple times. This was nothing compared to that. No big deal.

  Or so she’d thought. After she’d left Hope General, eager to break away from the identity of Simone, the character she’d played, Sadie had chopped her hair to just above her shoulders. On the soap, she’d been contractually obligated to keep her hair long and straight, a Barbie-perfect curtain of golden silk.

  When she’d first read the script for Fair is Fair and come across the hair-cutting scene, Sadie had been excited. It was a powerful moment, a chance to really stretch her acting chops. She and Sylvia had talked about it, and they’d both agreed it would be a much more moving scene if Sadie cut her hair for real. By herself. On camera. But now that the time had come to go through with it, Sadie was scared. The scene called for her character to take a scissors to her head and violently hack away at her hair until “nothing but stubborn scraps remained.”

  Reading over the scene in preparation for the next day, Sadie had decided to try practicing in her apartment. Not cutting her hair for real, but going through the motions, visualizing the process. Unfortunately, the more she’d stared at herself in the mirror in her bathroom, the more terrified she’d become.

  Her motivational poster of Linda had been no help either. Sadie tried to remind herself she was supposed to be a badass. But even Sarah Connor got to keep her hair. She’d ended up calling Ana in a panic, begging her to come to over.

  “I didn’t take you away from anything important tonight, did I?”

  “Nah, I was just hanging at my folks’ place.” Ana rummaged through a tote bag emblazoned with the image of a glittery glass slipper on top of a cupcake, her company’s logo. “Aha!” She pulled a snarled tangle out of her bag.

  “What the hell is that thing?” Sadie eyed the mass in her friend’s hand. “A dead animal? Where did it come from?”

  “Calm down, it’s a wig.” Ana shook the monstrosity, sending long spidery black curls swinging. “I got it from my mom’s closet.”

  “Why am I not surprised.” Sadie grinned with affection. Her best friend was fond of saying she came from a long line of weirdos, and Ana’s mother was undoubtedly the weirdest of them all. Zany and eccentric, with the energy (and attention span) of a toddler, Mrs. Kaufman was constantly starting a new project or indulging in another hobby. God only knew what escapade had led to the wig. “Why did you bring it here?”

  “So you can practice, obviously.” Ana slapped the wig on Sadie’s head.

  “Oh!” Sadie perked up, peering at herself through the messy strands. “That’s actually a good idea.”

  “You’re welcome.” Ana smirked and began to adjust the wig. “I figured it didn’t matter what color it was.”

  “No, this is fine. It’s perfect.” Her panic eased a little. “You sure your mom won’t mind if we cut it?”

  “Are you kidding?” Ana waved a hand. “Hack away. I think I saw a least a dozen more wigs in her closet, easily. One of these days I’m going to figure out what to do with all the bizarre junk she’s collected.”

  “How is your mom, anyway?”

  “The same. Running circles around the rest of us. I went over there to help plan the menu for Rosh Hashanah.”

  “Damn. I completely forgot.” A ripple of guilt fluttered over her. Her family wasn’t big into most of the traditional celebrations, but they usually gathered for the High Holidays. Sadie couldn’t care less if she saw her parents, but she didn’t want to miss a chance see her nana. “This weekend, right?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “What are you planning to bake?” Sadie asked.

  “I think the easier question would be, what am I not planning to bake?” Ana laughed.

  “Details,” S
adie ordered while Ana continued to fuss with the wig.

  “Everything is apple-based. Apple cake, apple Bundt cake, apple cupcakes, apple challah, apple rugelach, apple kugel…”

  “I get the idea, Bubba Gump,” Sadie said drily.

  “I’m planning to go apple picking Saturday morning. You want to come with?”

  “Where? Apple picking?” Sadie made a face.

  “At Wunderlich Farms. They have do-o-o-nuts,” Ana crooned in a blatant attempt to lure her.

  “They do, huh?” A smile tugged at Sadie’s lips.

  “Yep, amazing apple-cider donuts. Totally worth a few hours of manual labor.” Ana’s green eyes blazed with mischief. “Maybe we could…”

  Sadie shoved the wig’s matted curls out of her face and narrowed her gaze at her friend. “Maybe we could what?”

  “Maybe we could convince a few strong men to come along,” Ana suggested. “Your strapping costar, perhaps? And a certain hunky stuntman?”

  “No.” Sadie shook her head so fast, the wig slipped sideways. “No way.”

  “Come on,” Ana cajoled, readjusting the wig. “With their help, we’d be done in less than half the time. It’ll be fun.”

  “Fun?” Sadie raised an eyebrow doubtfully.

  “Yes. Fun. You remember what fun is, don’t you? You used to have fun. You used to be fun.” Ana pouted.

  “I’ve just been so busy with this movie and—” Sadie stopped. Her excuses sounded lame to her own ears. “You know what? You’re right. I haven’t been much fun lately. I’m sorry, Ana.”

  Ana’s pout turned sympathetic. “It’s okay. I get it. You’re under a lot of pressure.” She smoothed the wig back from Sadie’s brow. “It would do you good to let off a little steam.”

  Sadie nodded. Her best friend had a point. She needed to relax. Loosen up. Her knuckles tingled as she recalled Bo wrapping his hand around her fist, telling her to do just that. But being around Bo had the opposite effect. Made her tense. Turned her into a bundle of nerves. On top of being ridiculous levels of attracted to the man, she was also still angry with him. Still hurt. Those feelings hadn’t gone away. Because she hadn’t dealt with them.

  There just never seemed to be a good time to bring that stuff up. She’d hinted at it the other day, but he’d sidestepped her. In his defense, it had been the right thing to do. Midway through filming a stunt was not the best time to start unloading your emotional baggage.

  Perhaps, if she spent some time with Bo away from the set …

  “Okay,” she blurted, before she could change her mind. “I’ll do it.”

  “You’ll come apple picking?” Ana asked, perking up.

  Sadie nodded. “And I’ll ask the guys if they want to come.”

  Ana started to clap, but Sadie held up a hand. “I’m not making any promises. For all we know, they’ll both have plans.”

  “Oh, please.” Ana rolled her eyes. “I guarantee you they’ll say yes.”

  “Do you have a crystal ball you’re not telling me about?”

  “Call it intuition.”

  “Well, did your intuition tell you that you’ll have to pick me up? I can take the train up to you. Save you a trip into the city.”

  “No problem.” Ana laughed. “But when are you going to get a car? Your mother is probably having a conniption over the thought of you riding around the city on public transportation.”

  Sadie snorted. Whenever Ana mimicked Sadie’s mom, she added a haughty nasal accent. It was well-deserved. While Ana’s mother may be guilty of impulsive and often eccentric purchases, she wasn’t fixated on money or the place it bought her in society … unlike Sadie’s mom. Maureen Goldovitz was an elitist snob.

  Like Ana had said, there was nothing wrong with being rich, but there was something wrong with people who thought having more money equated to being a better person. In Sadie’s experience, the opposite was usually true.

  And while Sadie knew riding the train and taking buses didn’t make her a better person, it did help teach her to appreciate the advantages she’d grown up with, including luxuries like a car with a personal driver at her beck and call. When she’d lived in New York, she’d managed fine without a car, but now that she was back in Chicago, Ana had a point. “You’re right.”

  “About your mother or the car?”

  “Both,” Sadie groaned. It was time to stop making excuses. “I really do need a car, especially before the cold weather hits. I’ll go sometime this week.”

  “Good. Does that mean you’ve decided to stay here for the winter?”

  “Yeah.” Sadie nodded. “Filming wraps up mid-November, but I don’t have plans to leave. At least not until after the movie premiere happens in the spring.”

  “And then what?”

  Sadie shrugged. And then she would be a star? The glamorous leading lady with her pick of movie roles, as she’d always dreamed of being? Her stomach tightened as she considered the future. “You sure you don’t have a crystal ball?”

  “Trust me,” Ana deadpanned, “if I did, I’d have used it long ago to figure out where my prince charming is hiding.” Ana picked up the scissors, snapping them open and closed. “Now come on, Rapunzel, let’s chop off that hair.”

  Sadie smiled feebly, taking the scissors. “Tell me I can do this.”

  “You can totally do this,” Ana promised, adding, “and if it’s a disaster, I’ll help you pick out a new wig.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Sadie grumbled. “Just not from your mother’s closet this time, okay?”

  * * *

  On set the next day, Sadie went over her lines while the crew ran a final sound and light check. Over in one corner, under Bo’s supervision, Ryan was warming up with some practice moves. Sadie took a deep breath and let it go slowly, running through her calming exercises more out of habit than necessity. The chat with Ana last night had helped her feel much better. She was glad she’d asked her best friend to come over.

  Sylvia came bustling up, Tanya at her shoulder. “Ready, MG?”

  “Ready!” Sadie smiled.

  “Now, don’t freak out,” Sylvia warned, “but I made a few changes to this scene.”

  “Oh?” Sadie immediately started freaking out. But she kept that to herself.

  Ryan sauntered toward them, Bo trailing behind. “What’s up, boss?”

  Sylvia held out her hand to Tanya, who passed her a tablet computer. The director scrolled her finger down a line of text. “This scene is a huge turning point, right? But I’ve always thought the lead-up was missing something. I want to punch it up a bit.”

  “You want me to add a few more moves to the fight sequence?” Bo asked.

  The director shook her head. “We’ve got plenty of action, what we need is a little more romance.”

  “Romance?” Sadie and Ryan asked in unison.

  “Yep.” Sylvia nodded. “Don’t worry. Most of the scene doesn’t change.” She waved a hand toward Sadie. “Jamie will take the scissors and face herself in the mirror, but before she goes through with it, Christian busts in and tries to stop her. The fight scene will happen as choreographed, but I want to end it with a kiss.”

  “Who kisses who?” Sadie asked.

  “Christian kisses Jamie.”

  “Am I angry or scared?” Ryan wondered.

  “Both,” Sylvia said. “And desperate. You don’t want her to cut her hair and join the rebellion. You’re worried that if she chooses to leave her old self behind, she’ll leave you behind.”

  “Do you want this to be a wide or close shot?” Bo asked.

  Sadie turned to look at him. His voice seemed strained, mouth a hard line in the shadow of his beard. Was something bothering him? Was it the thought of her kissing Ryan?

  “Wide,” Sylvia instructed. “But I do want a few flash cuts, to focus on their faces.”

  “Got it,” Bo said while Tanya furiously scribbled on a notepad.

  Sylvia pointed at Ryan. “Remember, you think once Jamie takes this step and bec
omes part of the rebellion, she’ll never be the same—that you’ll lose the woman you love. You’re desperate to keep her from changing.”

  “That’s good stuff.” Ryan grinned, rubbing his hands together.

  “And you”—Sylvia focused on Sadie—“you’re ready to break away from your old life. Like Christian, you’re also scared things will change forever. But unlike him, you accept change must happen, and you’re angry he’s trying to keep you from fulfilling your destiny. His attempt to use your feelings for him to stop you will strengthen your resolve, force you to reach deep down inside yourself for the strength to move forward.”

  The director held up the scissors. “That’s when you will return to the mirror, and with each snip, you will cut away your regrets, your mistakes, the trauma and heartache of your past. This is about so much more than cutting hair. As your appearance changes on the outside, you will transform on the inside. In the end, you will be reborn.”

  Sadie took the scissors from Sylvia, head and heart pounding as she threaded her fingers through the cold metal loops of the handle. This was too close, too raw. Too real.

  Back in the box. Close the lid. Lock it tight.

  “Hey,” Bo murmured. “You okay?”

  Sadie glanced up. The concern in his eyes almost undid her right there on the spot. She got a grip on her emotions, fist tightening on the handle of the scissors and nodded. “I’m fine.” She was pleased to hear her voice come out smooth and steady. Strong, even.

  Because like Jamie, she was strong. Sadie turned and marched toward her place on set. “I’m ready.”

  * * *

  Bo watched Sadie as she took her mark, steps confident and sure. She didn’t fool him, though. Something was up. Something was bothering her. A lot.

  Was it this scene? Because that sure as hell was bothering him.

  The director’s words echoed in his mind. Bo knew the desperation Sylvia described. The fear of being left behind. Forgotten. He knew the anger too. He’d tasted all of it, standing on a pier, knuckles bruised, face bloodied.