by Cassie Reed
Olivia smiled. “I can think of something.”
16
“How about a tour?”
Trayce gazed back at Olivia in surprise. “You want a tour. . .of my apartment?”
She nodded. “Why not?”
“For starters, I don’t remember getting a tour of your place,” he told her.
“That’s true,” she murmured. “Maybe I’ll have to invite you back sometime. Although not any time soon. The place is a warzone right now.”
“That’s hard to imagine,” Trayce said, leading their way over to the living room, wine glasses in hand. “Here’s my couch, by the way. TV on that far wall. I got that painting the first year I moved to LA.”
She grinned at the effort he was putting forth for her “tour.” “Very nice,” she observed, her eyes wandering around the room appreciatively.
He led the way down the hall, motioning to the bathroom. “Bathroom’s there. You probably don’t need more explanation than that,” he said. “So what happened then?”
“With what?”
“You said your house was a warzone,” he continued as they meandered toward the bedroom. “Redecorating nightmare? Kitchen disaster?”
“Try closet throw up,” she explained. “I had Mia over last night to pick out a dress for the Film Critics’ Awards this weekend. We’re going together.”
“That was nice of you,” Trayce noted as they stepped through the doorway. He felt a surge of relief rush through him. When she had told him the day of the forum that she had plans for that night, his mind had gone to every jealous conclusion it could get to. Finding out she had just been hanging out with Mia put him at ease.
“It was no big deal,” Olivia said. “I have more dresses than I know what to do with. She was probably doing me a favor at that point.” Her eyes rounded the space they were in. “So this is the bedroom.”
He gave a nod. “This is where the. . .” Don’t say magic, don’t say magic. “Sleeping happens.”
“Really?” Olivia said, pretending to be surprised.
“Unless I fall asleep on the couch,” he told her. “Which has been known to happen.”
“Happens to the best of us,” she replied. Her eyes flitted around the room once more. “This is nice. Even with the plaid blanket and the striped curtains.”
He crossed his arms. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing,” she said with a shrug. “It just lacks a woman’s touch.”
“Funny,” he countered. “I was just thinking your place lacks a man’s touch.”
She turned to him, her eyes defiant as she gazed up into his. There was a look on her face that told him she wouldn’t have protested if he had taken her into his arms right then and there. Stubbornly, he kept his arms crossed firmly in place. It was too soon to be making moves on her straight away in his bedroom, and besides, no one wanted the smell of burnt pizza, or the blaring fire alarm that went with it. Talk about a mood killer.
“Well unfortunately this is the end of the tour,” he told her.
“Not so fast,” she declared. “Was that a patio I saw to the left of your living room?”
“You got me,” he said. “I was saving the best for last.”
They walked out into the main part of the apartment and out onto the enclosed patio he had attempted to make the most out of, complete with any greenery he could keep alive and a small firepit. “There’s no pool,” he said, reaching for a nearby box of matches. “But it does the job.”
“Pools are overrated anyway,” Olivia said. “There’s all that cleaning and heating and maintenance. I don’t know what I was thinking when I chose a place with a pool that size.” She shook her head. “Just keeping up with the Joneses, I guess.”
“You can always drain it and take up skateboarding,” he quipped, stooping to light a fire. His eyes landed on her as she grinned, and covertly stayed on her as he fiddled with the firepit. She looked beautiful illuminated by what color was left in the dusky sky, the breeze sweeping her hair out of her face and down her shoulders. He found himself staring at the graceful lines of her neck and wondering how her skin might feel against his lips. Was there any part of her that he wasn’t infatuated with?
But as he watched her, he noticed her expression suddenly turn troubled. “You okay?” he asked, rising to his feet.
She glanced at him, struggling to clear the worry from her face. “I was just thinking about Mia.”
“Trouble in paradise?” he offered, attempting to show her he was willing to listen.
She sighed. “I think I might need another glass of wine for this one.”
“That can be arranged.”
Obligingly, she handed him her glass. “Thank you.”
Pouring them another serving from the kitchen, Trayce returned to the patio and handed her her glass, watching as she took a sip that was bigger than normal. “It’s just. . .” she began. “The other day I found out she had been sent the same script as me. So apparently we may be vying for the same role soon.”
“Hold it,” Trayce said. “How do you know she’s going for the same part as you?”
“Well there’s only three female characters. She’s not old enough to play the heroine’s mother, so that would only leave the maître d' of a resort, and I know she wouldn’t be as excited about it as she is if that were the role she’s going after,” Olivia explained. “Plus, she pretty much told me she was planning on winning a statue.”
“That’s pretty convincing,” he murmured, taking a sip of his wine. “But doesn’t this kind of thing happen all the time? You go for roles against people you know. That’s the nature of the business.”
“I know,” Olivia yielded to his point. “It’s just. . .she’s a really good friend of mine. And this is Meredith Mitchum we’re talking about.”
Trayce was quiet, waiting for her to continue. While the director’s name was recognizable, her brand of slow-burn tear-jerking drama wasn’t exactly in his wheelhouse.
“Meredith Mitchum gave me my first Oscar,” Olivia told him. “Plus we’ve worked together several times. I know what she wants. She’s going to give me the part.”
“So then. . .why would she have sent the script to Mia, too?” Trayce said slowly.
He watched as her eyes searched the air in front of her for an answer before her face crumbled. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “That’s a really good point. Maybe Meredith wants me to be the maître d' or. . .the mother.” Her eyes widened at the realization.
Trayce would have laughed if her face hadn’t been so deathly serious. Olivia Warner was undoubtedly as dynamic as any character she had ever played, constantly undulating between a down-to-earth girl-next-door with a killer sense of humor, and a high-strung movie star constantly worried about her image and now, whether or not she was past her prime. She definitely wasn’t, but he had a feeling he would have a hard time convincing her. She was her own biggest critic, and it could either be an ally, or a crying shame.
“Relax,” he told her. “I think it’s nice you want to give your friend a heads up. And who knows, the part might not go to either of you. Who knows how many people Meredith Mitchum sent that script to—”
Olivia gaped at him. “You are not funny!” But despite her protests, he noticed a small smile turn the curve of her lips in the right direction.
“Point is,” Trayce continued. “You’re going to tell Mia, sooner rather than later. Right?”
Olivia gave a reluctant nod. “Right,” she said. “I’ll figure out a way to tell her. Soon,” she noted. “I’ve pretty much got no choice on that one.”
“Sometimes that’s just the push you need,” he noted.
She smiled again. “Thanks, Trayce.”
“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “Any. . .” Anything, he thought. I’d do anything for you to make things better. “Time,” he finished instead.
Their eyes met across the space between them, and he nearly got the feeling she knew what he had really wa
nted to say.
The timer on his phone went off, beeping raucously from his pocket and stirring them from their shared gaze. “That’s the pizza,” he announced, shutting the timer, and his growing feelings, off for the time being. “Ready to eat?”
“You better believe it. I’m starved,” she said. “Plus I need to know if I want my own dough guy.”
He grinned. There she was, down-to-earth Olivia. But if he were honest with himself, he liked both sides. All of her. It’s what made her her. “Come on,” he said. “Get a taste of what you’ve been missing.”
17
Olivia tipped her head back in satisfaction, her appetite sufficiently quelled. She had even managed to not burn the roof of her mouth on the pizza, one more sign that the night was going decidedly well. She couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, a host had included her in dinner preparations, but she had to admit there was something satisfying about eating something she had helped create. After dinner, they had returned to the patio to enjoy the warmth of the still crackling fire.
“I can see the stars tonight,” Olivia found herself murmuring as her eyes took in the twinkling lights laid out in the dark blue sky. “Usually there’s too much light pollution from the city to see them where I live.”
“We’re closer to the coastline out here,” Trayce noted. “The ocean creates a lot of darkness. It makes the stars easier to see.”
Olivia nodded, taking them in as she sucked in a long, slow breath. If she tried hard enough she imagined she could smell saltwater. “This night has been so perfect.” As the last word left her lips, her head practically snapped to attention. Had she really just let that slip? There was nothing wrong with being appreciative, but the slow, dreamy way in which it had come out said far more than she had intended. “I mean, thanks,” she added bashfully.
Trayce grinned, his handsome features illuminated by the light and shadow from the fire. He seemed to be holding back something behind that smile, and she imagined it was a certain satisfaction from knowing he had her eating right out of the palm of his hand. Instead, he got up, retrieving a bag of marshmallows and two skewers from a table nearby. “Got room for dessert?”
“Always,” Olivia confirmed, taking a marshmallow and spearing it with a skewer. While that may have been true, she found herself suppressing her sweet tooth all too often in the name of fitting into the latest red carpet look. She had taken some sort of twisted pride in having measurements that hadn’t changed in years, but she was only just beginning to realize that while her measurements hadn’t changed, neither had she. Oscar or no Oscar, she still found herself reverting back to the insecure girl who had first shown up in Hollywood scared she would never land a part and be sent back home with her tail between her legs. On far too many nights, she had twisted and turned in bed, hearing her mother’s scornful laugh in her dreams. Didn’t I say you would never be anything? I told you so. The only people interested in what you have to offer are the drivers down at the truckstop. Time to put your apron on and serve the customers like a good girl.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Trayce murmured.
She looked up from her sizzling marshmallow, a small grin spreading across her face. “My dad used to say that when I was a kid.”
“Ouch,” Trayce said. “Did you just compare me to your dad?”
She laughed. “Sorry. It was the first thing that came to mind. In my defense, it’s one of the only things I can remember about him. He wasn’t in the picture for very long.”
Trayce gave a nod. “Sorry to hear that.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “My mom wasn’t exactly the easiest person to deal with.”
“That’s no excuse to abandon your daughter,” Trayce said angrily with a shake of his head. “Especially with someone like that. I would never. . .”
“I know,” Olivia told him, her eyes focusing on his. “That’s because you’re a different type of man.”
He gazed back at her, the silence between them saying enough. She knew he was the type of man she could trust to always protect her. Already, he had shown her that time and time again. Her eyes fluttered back down to her marshmallow, bringing it up to her mouth for a small bite. It was warm, sweet, and rewardingly gooey, and she relished the taste as she did her best to shut her brain off and all the ways it wanted to throw doubts in her direction. She could no longer deny he seemed interested in her, they had shared enough shameless stares to create a very hot montage. But she couldn’t ignore the fact that it had only been a short while ago that Trayce told her the limelight wasn’t for him. She couldn’t expect him to step willingly into the three ring circus that was her life just for the sake of being with her.
“What about you?” she asked suddenly. “I don’t remember you mentioning your parents.”
“They both passed away,” he told her. “Car accident.”
Olivia gasped. “I’m so sorry.”
“It was a long time ago,” he replied. “I’ve come to terms with it. After they passed, it was pretty much just my brother and I. There were some relatives who tried to help us but they couldn’t do much. I had to make ends meet however I could. Not too long after that, I got into stunt work and never looked back.”
“Don’t you ever get scared?” she said. “You know, that something might happen?”
Trayce shrugged. “After you lose two of the most important people in your life, your perspective kind of changes. I’ve already been through the worst and come out the other side. Don’t get me wrong, when I first started I used to worry all the time that something would happen and I’d leave my brother alone in this world. But as we got older, we both realized we could take care of ourselves. For the most part,” he added.
“It’s good to have someone you can rely on,” she said. A smirk crossed her face. “I think you’re more Hollywood than you realize. You’ve probably been on just as many sets as me.”
Trayce seemed to suppress a smirk of his own. “Sort of a necessary evil in this town. You either work in the industry or wish you did.”
She gave a nod. “Did you see the TMI story about us?” she found herself asking suddenly.
“I was told about it by at least a few people I know, but I didn’t bother reading it. I have to figure half of what they print is a lie anyway.” He looked at her. “Why? Did it say something I should know about?”
“Just speculation,” Olivia replied. “About us.”
“Us?” he repeated.
“The status of our relationship,” she continued. “Whether or not we knew each other from before. The editor actually called me before the story was released. I told her that was absolutely ridiculous.”
Trayce took a measured bite of his marshmallow. “I hope you’re a convincing liar.”
Olivia shrugged. “Lying is just a form of acting if you really want to get technical. Anyways, I wouldn’t be alarmed. I think we’re in the clear.”
Trayce gave a nod, his lips pursing as he chewed another meandering bite. “So then what happens if we are seen together again?” he said suddenly.
Olivia wiped any remaining sugar from her lips and set her empty skewer down. “What do you mean?”
Trayce shrugged, a tight-lipped smile clouding his true feelings. “I don’t know. Never mind. That was a dumb question.”
“Trayce—”
“Obviously this ends here—”
“Trayce.”
“Right?” He stared at her from across the fire, waiting for her response. “I like you, Olivia,” he continued instead. “Now I don’t know if you feel the same way—”
“I do,” she replied quickly. “Oh, Trayce, I really do.” She shook her head, getting up from her chair and going to stand near the railing of the patio. She gazed up at the stars again, unable to look at him. “I just didn’t think you wanted to be with someone like me. I’m in the public eye all the time. It’s my job. My career, my life. . .they’re not quiet.”
A laugh escaped his lips, taking her by su
rprise. “You think that matters to me?” he asked, coming to his feet to stand beside her. “You think something like that would ever keep me from being with someone I want?”
She turned to look at him, her lips parting to speak, to say whatever was coming next. Only her words never stood a chance. His mouth met hers with a fiery passion, his kiss all at once tender and sensually hot. A whimper escaped the back of her throat as she melted into him, her knees feeling weak. She felt his strong arms wrap themselves around her waist, holding her against him, and she gave herself over to the moment. She had never felt so safe, so desired, so wanted. He wanted her. The same way she wanted him.
“I guess the feeling’s mutual,” she murmured as their lips parted.
He grinned down at her. “Think so?”
She nodded. “So when is our first red carpet event?” she said, half teasing him.
“Red carpet event?” he repeated, a mild case of trepidation already apparent on his face. “Can’t we just go public at a coffee shop first?”
“Trust me,” she said. “Sometimes it’s better to get the big events out of the way first than to have a hundred different camera phones snapping at you as you try to drink your latte. But I get it. We’ll start out slow.” She paused thoughtfully. “Although, technically, we could show off at the Film Critics’ Awards this weekend. All card-carrying members of FAME are invited to attend you know.”
“I thought you were going with Mia.”
“I am,” Olivia replied. “Even if she’ll probably ditch me for any actor she’s heard of who makes eyes at her. But I understand if it’s too soon—”
“I didn’t say that,” he told her in fake frustration, grabbing her playfully around the waist once more.
She laughed as she pretended to try and fend him off. “You didn’t have to,” she responded. “Your face said it all.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’d be surprised at the things my face can say.”
Boy, was that the understatement of the year. She had already grown accustomed to his intense eye contact and the way the muscles in his cheeks twitched when he clenched his jaw, among other things. She could hardly wait to find out what kind of things she could get his face to say next. She beat down her more lascivious thoughts, smirking instead. “Could that be because your mouth runs straight across it?”