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Take Me To The Beach

Page 90

by K. L. Grayson, Karina Halle, A. L. Jackson, Marni Mann, Monica Murphy, Devney Perry, Kristen Proby, Rachel Van Dyken


  I smiled, turning my face so that he wouldn’t kiss me on the lips. “Brett, no,” I said, laughing as he tried to move my chin. “You can’t smudge my gloss when I’m about to go onstage.”

  “Look at me,” he demanded.

  Slowly, I turned my mouth toward him, anticipating his to immediately press against mine.

  But it didn’t.

  It just hovered close as he said, “I want you to go out there and fucking kill it.”

  “I remember you saying something like that once before.”

  “Mmm,” he moaned, grazing his lips across my collarbone. Once they left my skin, I felt the goose bumps rise. “And look what happened; you went into that meeting, and you fucking killed it.”

  I smiled. “I did okay.”

  “I love how humble you are.”

  And I love you.

  Neither of us had said that yet.

  But I felt his love, and I knew he felt mine.

  “I have to go,” I said, wiggling forward to back him up.

  He held my hand while I climbed off the stool, and he walked me to the door. “I’m going to watch backstage.”

  “Good.” I air-kissed my finger and pressed it against his lips. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

  The assistant who had come in to tell me how much time was left was waiting in the hall, not far from my door. I joined him, and he brought me through the production area and told me to wait on the side of the stage.

  “There’s going to be a twenty-second countdown that will show right there.” He pointed at a digital screen on the wall next to me. “When there are seven seconds to go, you’ll hear the music start to play, and Ellen will announce you. When she does, it’s your time to enter the set. Don’t walk out before she says your name. I’ll be here to give you the signal just in case you forget.”

  “Thank you.”

  Appearing on talk shows always made me nervous because, even though a list of questions had been sent to my publicist, the host often went off script and asked whatever came to their mind. Given the last several months of my life, I suspected that would happen today.

  The clock on the wall lit up with a twenty-second countdown.

  I clenched my hands and released them, feeling how sweaty my palms were. I tried taking deep breaths to calm the nerves in my stomach. I wiggled my toes, so the heels loosened and felt more comfortable.

  Twelve seconds.

  I reminded myself that I’d done multiple interviews over the last two months, and those had been much harder than this one would be. So, today was about celebrating. It was about being grateful for this opportunity. It was about remembering how kind and generous the public had become.

  The music started to play, and the assistant looked at me, using his fingers to show the countdown of seconds.

  I heard clapping on set.

  I heard tons of cheering.

  Four seconds.

  The assistant urged me to take a few steps forward to get closer to the stage.

  Two seconds.

  The noise on set got louder.

  One second.

  “For today’s show, I’m so honored to welcome the beautiful and talented James Ryne,” Ellen said.

  Go, the assistant mouthed.

  I felt my feet on the ground, and my arms move through the air as I held my breath. The lights got brighter as I stepped on the hardwood floor of the stage, and the sounds got much more intense. I rounded the corner that was hidden behind a partition and saw the crowd.

  They were standing. They were clapping. They were all smiling at me.

  I was hit with their energy.

  Their enthusiasm.

  Their love.

  I smiled back at all of them. I waved with both hands, and I shimmied my hips and shoulders to the music as I walked toward the sitting area on set. Once I got a little closer to Ellen, I turned my stare toward her. Her smile was just as big as the crowd, and it calmed me a little.

  Even though we had never met in person, I bypassed the handshake and went right in for a hug. “Thank you so much for having me,” I whispered.

  “It’s so great to meet you,” she replied.

  We pulled away from each other, and I moved in front of my seat, looking at the crowd again, still feeling all of their emotions. The grin on my face was ridiculously big.

  “Thank you,” I said to all of them.

  And they clapped harder.

  Ellen asked me to take a seat, and she waited for the audience to quiet down before she said, “Thanks for being here, James. We’re really happy you were able to fit us in. I know things have been extremely busy for you.”

  I crossed my ankles, making sure my dress was resting flat, and folded my hands on my lap. “It might have been just a little hectic during a short period of time”—I smiled again, so they knew I was joking—“but I’m so excited to be here.” I glanced at the crowd. “Thank you for giving me such a warm welcome.”

  There was another round of applause.

  “This morning, while I was getting ready in my dressing room, I heard something pretty wonderful that I don’t think the public knows yet.” Suddenly, the screen behind our chairs showed a picture of Ralph and me. “Look who’s been casted as the lead actress in the next Ralph Anderson film.”

  I took in the audience’s clapping and felt my face turn a little red. “It’s great news, isn’t it? I’m such a huge fan of his, and to get a role in one of his movies is a dream come true.”

  “As my followers know, I make it no secret that I’m his biggest fan, too.” The picture changed; it showed my face had been cropped out, and Ellen’s was put there instead.

  “You look great as a brunette,” I said.

  “Even with the longer hair?”

  “Come on, guys,” I directed at the crowd, “don’t you think she looks fabulous with long, dark hair?”

  More cheering erupted.

  Once it became quiet again, Ellen said, “I’ve heard Ralph takes a nontraditional approach when he holds auditions.”

  “He does,” I said and faced the audience, remembering both times I’d met with him and how different they were.

  The first was when I’d reenacted the scene from Burnt Away, when my personal life was still a mess. The second time was when I’d landed my current role.

  “Usually, your agent sets up an audition, and in a roomful of people and a few cameras, you read a short script.” I gazed back at Ellen. “That’s not how Ralph does it. He holds the audition in his office, and it’s just him, you, and your agent in a room with no cameras.” I used the armrests to push myself up. “We weren’t able to meet at Ralph’s office for my second audition, so my agent and I went to his house. We were outside on his patio, waiting for him, and it was such a hot day in LA. I was sweating. I mean, I was dripping buckets. I was nervous. I was guzzling water, and then I realized I’d not only emptied my glass, but I’d also finished my agent’s glass, too.”

  “Your poor bladder.”

  “That’s exactly the problem, Ellen. The second Ralph came outside, I had to pee. It was the kind of emergency where I had to cross my legs and sway my body. You girls know what I’m talking about, right?” I laughed from how hard Ellen was laughing. “So, Ralph and I talked about the scene he wanted me to act, and it required lots of walking and sitting. The whole time I was acting, I was trying so hard not to concentrate on how badly I had to go to the bathroom. But, now, I was sweating more; it was starting to show through my shirt, and my feet were slipping in my shoes.” I giggled as the audience’s laugher got louder.

  “Did the scene call for any crying?”

  “It did.” I turned toward the crowd. “But my bladder was so full, I wanted to cry anyway. I guess you could say it worked out perfectly.”

  “Should we call Ralph and tell him what happened?”

  “I caved and had to tell him when the scene was over. I couldn’t have held it a second longer, or I don’t know that I would have made it to
the bathroom. Can you imagine? No, let’s not imagine. Let’s just be glad I made it in time.”

  “Did you happen to snap a photo of the bathroom? I want to make sure the ones in my house are up to par.”

  “I didn’t, but he had some wonderful hand soap.”

  “Flowery?”

  I smiled. “No, this was more like the scent of the beach.”

  “It sounds like his soap is nicer than mine.”

  “And mine,” I assured her.

  She waited for the laughter to die down and then said, “I’ve been following the news surrounding Sophia Sully and her half brother, Scott Watson. Is there any new information you can give us?”

  This was the question I had known was coming but was afraid of.

  The trial hadn’t started, and it wouldn’t for several months, but the evidence had been pouring in. The police had searched Scott’s computer and found the video, where it had been uploaded, and how it had been distributed. The check Sophia had written to him for a hundred thousand dollars had been located, and now, she was being charged as an accessory.

  My attorneys didn’t know what their punishments would be, but they were sure Scott would at least receive some jail time.

  As for Sophia, the damage to her career had already been done. She’d been dropped by The Agency, her label, and the rest of her team. Abel had broken off their engagement. Her remaining tour dates had been canceled, and her record sales had tanked.

  The last photo that had been taken of her was a shot of her moving out of Abel’s house.

  I knew how that felt.

  And I had no sympathy for her whatsoever.

  “I have an incredible team of attorneys who are working hard on this case, and they’re determined to get justice. It’s all in their hands at this point.” I took a deep breath. “But I will say this; I realize my actions that night weren’t necessarily appropriate, but it doesn’t matter who you are; we all deserve the right to privacy.”

  Ellen nodded in agreement and said, “After the verdict, will you come back on the show and celebrate with us?”

  It felt good to hear she was on my side.

  “I would love to,” I said.

  “Speaking of love, we haven’t seen you date anyone since Abel Curry. The audience is dying to know if there’s someone special in your life.”

  It turned loud again for several seconds and then quieted.

  Two months had passed since Scott was arrested, and my career was better now than ever before. I hadn’t just landed a role in one of Ralph’s movies, but Brett had also scored me another lead in a movie that one of his friends was directing. Endorsement deals were rolling in, I was looking into businesses that were seeking investors, and I’d just started my first online class.

  Enough time had passed since the truth came out.

  So had my nineteenth birthday.

  I didn’t want to keep it a secret anymore.

  I felt my face blush again, a smile forming over my lips. “I do have someone in my life.”

  As the crowd roared, I glanced to the other side of the stage, which was open so that the production staff could see the set. Brett was standing all the way to the right with his hands in the pockets of his sexy navy suit. His smile lines dented his shortly trimmed beard. His teeth chewed the corner of his lip, and he was shaking his head at me.

  I hadn’t told him I was going to out us.

  But I was sure he knew.

  And nothing on his face told me he was disappointed.

  “He came here with me today,” I said, looking at the audience and then at Ellen. “And he’s pretty amazing.”

  Epilogue

  Brett

  James and I sat next to each other in the third row from the stage in the Dolby Theatre in Hollywood. Tonight was the Oscars, and she had been nominated for her work in Ralph Anderson’s film. I had known she was going to catch the attention of the Academy. Her performance in Black Season was outstanding, better than any of us could have anticipated. And Ralph was so pleased, he wanted to cast her again.

  She didn’t know that yet.

  I wanted her to get through tonight before I gave her that news.

  Knowing we were getting close to the presentation of the award, I reached across her lap and held her hand. She squeezed my fingers, and I saw two TV cameras move in front of where we were sitting. That was so they could get a shot of James’s face when her name was announced as a nominee.

  The host introduced a guest presenter, and an actor walked onstage, who had been James’s costar in the film.

  He held an envelope in his hand and waited for the audience to quiet before he read from the teleprompter. “The nominees for Best Actress in a Motion Picture—Drama are James Ryne, Black Season.”

  The screen behind the podium showed a scene from the movie where James was in bed. She had no makeup on, her hair was wild, the blanket was falling from her body, and the clothes she had on underneath were tattered.

  “She can’t do this to me!” James screamed. “She can’t hurt me anymore. I won’t let her. I won’t let her take my family.” Tears streamed from her eyes. Spit soaked her lips.

  The shot zoomed out, and the audience applauded right before her costar announced the next nominee.

  I saw the red light flashing from the camera, signaling it was on and filming, and I knew there was a chance my face would be shown on TV. I didn’t have a problem with it. Our relationship had been public for almost a year. James and I had walked many red carpets together, like the one we’d been on tonight, and we’d been photographed all over the world.

  I wanted everyone to know that the gorgeous girl sitting to my left was mine. And I was so fucking proud of her.

  “And the Oscar goes to…”

  I squeezed her hand again.

  “James Ryne, Black Season.”

  “Brett…” she whispered.

  She turned toward me, her mouth open, shock filling her beautiful face. I continued to hold her hand, and I got up to help her stand. Right before she walked away, she leaned in and kissed me. Then, she made her way up the stairs and hugged her costar before she went over to the podium.

  “Wow, I didn’t expect this, and because of that, I didn’t write anything down.” I heard the emotion in her voice, and then she paused. “To my fellow nominees, women who are so incredibly talented, thank you for being such an inspiration to my career.” Her chest rose as she took a breath. “Ralph Anderson, thank you for taking a chance on me. For giving me the role of my dreams, for mentoring me, and for helping me become the actress I am today.” She glanced up toward the ceiling. “For my parents, whom I lost far too soon, I hope you’re looking down on me and I’m making you proud.” She gazed into the audience again. “To the team of actors and actresses and the production staff and everyone who was involved in the making of this movie, I certainly couldn’t have done this without you.” She searched the rows of seats until our eyes met. “To my team—Tim, Eve, all the wonderful people at The Agency, and to my agent, Brett Young.”

  She smiled at me, and my fucking heart beat so goddamn hard.

  “Brett, I love you so much. The best thing I ever did was sign with you.”

  She thanked the crowd and the Academy and grinned one last time.

  As she was escorted offstage, I watched her ass. It looked so fucking sexy in that dress. I had a feeling I’d be fucking it in between after-parties tonight. There was no way in hell I could wait until we got back to The Agency’s condo.

  The music began to play throughout the room, which told all the attendees the network was taking a commercial break, and my phone immediately started blowing up. I grabbed it from the inside pocket of my tux and checked the screen.

  Scarlett: Just saw you on TV. I know you don’t want to hear this, but the whole world melted when they saw you smile at her onstage. Give that girl a big hug for me.

  Max: Turn around, and look toward your left.

  I did as Max had asked, scanni
ng the rows behind me until I saw him and Eve toward the back. I waved at them and checked my phone again as it vibrated.

  Max: We’ll meet you at the after-party. We’re so fucking proud of her.

  Jack: I told you a while ago that you’d be a fool not to take her on. I’m glad you listened. I’m proud of her. I’m even prouder of you, motherfucker. See you later tonight.

  I leaned to the side of my chair and took out my wallet, reaching into the front section where I kept the small piece of paper.

  You’d be a fool not to take her on.

  Those were the words written on it, and they had come from Jack. He’d given me that note when James came into our conference room for the very first time and told us what had happened in Malibu. Back then, I’d stared at the sheet for several seconds, wondering if he was right. And then, slowly, I’d made eye contact with James. That was when I’d kicked everyone out and had my one-on-one with her.

  James knew about the piece of paper because, on the night I’d proposed to her, I’d slipped it through the ring, and both had sat in the middle of my hand as I got down on one knee.

  The ring was now on her finger, but the paper would always stay with me.

  * * *

  Have you read …

  Endorsed—Jack’s book

  Contracted—Max’s book

  Negotiated—Scarlett’s Novella

  * * *

  For more information about Marni Mann and a list of her books, visit her website!

  http://marnismann.com

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