by Cassie Reed
“What a shame. Are you doing better now?”
“Much,” Olivia declared. Ugh, Trayce had been right. Everything was always an act for her. “You know, Meredith, I wanted to talk about Blossoms of the Pacific. If now is a good time, of course.”
“Certainly,” the director replied pleasantly. “Did you have an opportunity to make it through the entire script?”
“Oh more than once, trust me. It’s an incredible story and I feel like I’m in love with it already. It’s just. . .” she hesitated. Was she really about to do this? “I don’t think I’m right for the lead.”
“Oh?” came Meredith’s surprised response. “I have to admit I find this rather interesting. Is there someone else you had in mind?”
“Mia Green,” Olivia said. “I think she would be perfect for the role, if I’m being perfectly honest.”
It was true. She would be perfect. And she deserved it.
“Well, if we’re being perfectly honest,” Meredith replied. “Her name was at the top of my list.”
This time, it was Olivia’s turn to be surprised. “Oh,” she said simply. “Well then I’m glad we agree.” It wasn’t a surprise that Meredith had managed to see what Olivia saw in Mia, but she still had to admit, knowing Mia was already at the top of the list, and not her, stung a bit. Maybe it was true her days in Hollywood were numbered.
“In all honestly, I had a different role for you in mind,” Meredith said.
Olivia turned her eyes skyward. “The mother,” she said solemnly.
Meredith laughed. “Oh Olivia, I would have thought you would know me better than that by now. A gorgeous woman barely out of her twenties does not a matriarch make. The industry is changing, darling, and we’re going to be the ones responsible for changing it.”
Olivia grinned despite her confusion. She knew there was a reason she liked working with Meredith so much. “So then. . .the maître d'?”
“Producer,” Meredith said.
“Producer?” Olivia repeated.
“Now I’m in no way saying your days as a leading lady are over, in any shape or form,” Meredith told her. “But I do think it’s high time in your career that you started to diversify, and I could use your keen eye on things.”
“I—I don’t know what to say,” Olivia said.
“I trust you, Olivia. And I think you could do big things, on-screen and off-screen. You already have the industry’s biggest prize. Now’s the time to start thinking about what could be fulfilling for you. You’re in the perfect position to start making a difference in a different way. The sky’s the limit, wouldn’t you agree?”
While she had been previously staring into space, Olivia’s gaze suddenly fell to her surroundings. She was standing in a closet full of dresses she had walked down the red carpet in once before retiring them. Each represented a certain goalpost in her life, a milestone she had somehow reached even when she didn’t think she would. A time she had managed to believe in herself. Or when someone else had believed in her.
“You’re right,” she found herself saying suddenly. “And thank you, Meredith, for considering me.”
“Of course,” the director replied. “Let’s talk about it more later. Over lunch at The Chateau.”
“Sounds wonderful.”
“Fabulous. I’ll be in touch again soon, dear.”
Ending the call, Olivia slid the phone into the pocket of her sweatpants and looked around.
It was time to get to work.
22
“Woah!” Trayce’s sparring partner, Gil, exclaimed as he narrowly dodged Trayce’s swinging fist. For the past half hour they had been practicing a pivotal fight scene between Captain Patriot and his arch enemy Dark Mercy. The battle was slated to be an eyepopping show of force between two opposing forces, and so far, Trayce had been nailing the show of force part apparently. “You’ve been throwing some wild punches today,” Gil continued. “Lucky my reflexes are so good.”
“Sorry,” Trayce muttered, stepping back before rendering the spinning hook kick that connected with Gil’s forearm. “I’ve gotta get my mind in the game.”
“Ya think?” Gil ribbed him, stepping forward to deliver a series of rapid hits that Trayce blocked. “Don’t get me wrong, I like almost getting decked as much as the next guy.”
“Of course,” Trayce said. “You wouldn’t be in this business if you didn’t.” He delivered the last fake series of attacks before stopping and taking a break. Grabbing his water bottle from the mat, he took a swig, trying to slow his busy thoughts. In the forefront of his mind was the fact that Layton would be starting physical therapy that day. In fact, Trayce was due to drop him off in just a few short hours. But in the background of his mind. . .?
That was an entirely different story.
Because the ghost of Olivia Warner refused to leave him alone. The thought of her was still floating through the rooms of his mind like a disruptive poltergeist. It wasn’t long before enough space had passed between him and the evening that had gone so wrong, and while he had managed to cool down, the whole thing still bothered him.
Namely that she was out of his life for good now.
He had basically called her vain and split. How would she react if he ever came crawling back now? It wasn’t as though he had managed to come to some different conclusion since they had been apart. He had always known Olivia was a star, first and foremost.
But he had given her his heart anyway.
Or she had come and claimed it.
He wasn’t sure anymore. He just knew he was in deep. It was the way he thought about her constantly, and the way he missed her. Maybe nothing mattered if he could just hold her again.
Still, he had to ask himself if he could handle being the other half of a relationship with a celebrity. Could he handle sharing her with the public, and the things it took to keep her in the spotlight? He would never ask her to give up her career, or the things she had worked so hard to cultivate, just to be with him.
So here he was.
What he would do next besides put one foot in front of the other was anyone’s guess. Just when he thought he knew the answer, he would somehow convince himself that he knew nothing at all.
Glancing at the time, Trayce raised his fists again. “Let’s run through this one more time.”
“You sure you’re in the mood?” Gil asked, his feet already tapping the mat as he readied himself to spar.
Trayce gave a nod. “Yep.”
He could already feel it building in his muscles. A restless energy that was making him lash out with a furious power. If Gil hadn’t been so experienced, he would’ve felt sorry for him. But he needed to fight, because when he did, it felt like he was fighting for her.
***
Pulling Layton’s car up to the front of the physical therapy center, Trayce took a look at his brother out of the corner of his eye. Seated in the passenger’s seat, he had been mostly silent on the drive there. Trayce couldn’t exactly blame him. While starting physical therapy was definitely an important milestone in Layton’s recovery, there was no denying that it would be a long, hard road.
“Ready to do this?” Trayce found himself asking.
Layton turned his head from the window and looked at him. “Seriously, how are we going to afford this?”
“Would you not worry about that right now?” Trayce groaned. He really wasn’t in the mood for talking about it either. “It’ll all work itself out.” He wasn’t exactly sure how yet, but where there was a will, there was a way.
“Fine,” Layton said. “Then can we at least talk about why you’ve been moping around for the past few days?”
“What are you talking about?” Trayce said stubbornly.
“Why deny it?” Layton countered. “It has something to do with Olivia, doesn’t it?”
“What?” Trayce said, frowning as hard as he could so Layton couldn’t catch the look in his eyes. “There’s nothing going on there, man.”
“Yeah, sure
, I must be imagining it.”
“You are. I haven’t even seen her.”
“Yeah not since you texted me that day asking me if I knew where your tuxedo was, and then texted me again telling me not to do anything stupid because you weren’t going to be available.”
Trayce let his gaze slip from Layton’s and narrow out the windshield. “How do you know that had anything to do with Olivia?”
“Your tuxedo, Trayce? When was the last time you wore that, your high school prom?”
“I was too busy working to support your ass to go to prom, you know that,” Trayce said pointedly. “But yeah, close enough. Still fits.”
“Don’t change the subject,” Layton said. “What happened with her, huh?”
Trayce shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Pfft,” came Layton’s reply. “You’re lucky I’m not in better shape right now.”
“Or you’d what, bully the truth out of me? You’d be in for a fight even if you were healthy.”
“Oh yeah? Well now I’m gonna smash this physical therapy, and then I’m gonna make you eat those words.”
“Good,” Trayce said simply, secretly satisfied he had managed to stoke Trayce’s fighting spirit. He would need it.
“Well,” Layton said. “Whatever you did to Olivia, just apologize.”
“Me?” Trayce asked. “How do you know it was me who did the thing worth apologizing over?”
“So there was a thing?” Layton said satisfactorily.
“Yeah, you got me,” Trayce replied with a roll of his eyes. “Are you ready to get out of this car yet?”
“In a minute,” Layton said, appearing to relish the captive audience he had in Trayce. “Listen, even if you didn’t do the thing, if you go and apologize, nine times out of ten, she’ll apologize too. It’s the law of equivalent exchange.”
“I’m not sure you know what that means. . .”
“But I understand women,” Layton said confidently.
“Is ‘understand’ the right word for that?” Trayce murmured.
Layton shot him a smirk before clearing his face and looking at him more seriously. “Look, I know you like to keep your business your own, so I won’t go back and forth about it. But I also know that ever since our parents died, there’s been a lot of room in your life for work, and the responsibilities you think you have, including me these past few months. And then Olivia came into your life, and I don’t know, you just seemed happy. If she makes you happy, don’t let her go so easily, you know? I want that for you. You deserve it.”
Trayce was quiet, momentarily silenced by Layton’s words. He had never heard his brother express himself quite so sentimentally before. To know his short time with Olivia had caused such obvious shifts in him that even Layton had noticed gave him plenty of food for thought. “She does make me happy,” he found himself saying. “But I think we just might be too different to make it work.”
“Then you make sure that’s your decision,” Layton told him. “And not Hollywood’s. If you really want to be together, you’ll find a way to make it work.”
Trayce sighed. Layton was right. “My little brother’s giving me relationship advice now?”
Layton held his hands up. “Who else? I understand women, remember?”
“Right,” Trayce said with a sideways grin. “Now let’s get you out of this car. I’m gonna tell the physical therapist to make you cry.”
23
Olivia gazed around the wide hall that had become the setting for the day’s event. A colorful array of dresses lined the stage at the front of the room, creating a dazzling and elaborate display. Each garment was truly a piece of art. Bringing the flute of champagne she was holding up to her lips, she took a satisfying sip as she took it all in. A week ago, she never would have thought she could pull it off.
It had all started with a phone call. Well, two phone calls actually.
The first phone call had been, of course, with Meredith Mitchum. The director’s words and good faith in her had lit a match within Olivia as she stood in the middle of her closet full of dresses. Meredith was right. She could do whatever she put her mind to.
The second call had been to her publicist. “Jamie?” she said excitedly, her mind churning with ideas. “I’m thinking. . .what if I wanted to put on some kind of auction?”
“An auction?” Jamie said. “Of your things?”
“Some of them.”
“Olivia,” Jamie responded, concern in her voice. “Surely things can’t be that bad can they?”
“Actually, they’re fine,” Olivia replied confidently. “It would be for charity. Do you think we could drum up some interest with the right people?”
“Most likely, if your name’s attached,” Jamie said, her voice still quizzical. “Has anyone else signed off yet?”
“Not yet,” she admitted. “But I have a pretty big list of contacts I can call.”
“Well, charm your pants off then, missy,” Jamie said. “I’ll start making some calls of my own.”
“Thanks,” Olivia said before ending the call and immediately finding the first contact in her phone she planned to reach out to. It would be the first of many. “I’m fantastic, really,” Olivia said more times than she could recount as she called acquaintance after acquaintance. “I know I’ve been a bit out of touch, but I have an exciting proposition for you if you’re interested.”
By the time she finished the last phone call, her mouth hurt, but she felt as though it had been just the re-introduction to Hollywood that she needed. It had been safe from the other side of the phone, and even better, not all about her. She was sure she had elicited at least a hundred donations when all was said and done. She had even been willing to make amends with some what she thought were her arch enemies.
“Olivia,” Gillian Jenkins appeared before her, blocking her view of the stage.
As it turned out, no one could refuse a charity event, not even Gillian.
Olivia smiled at her. “Gillian, so nice to see you,” she said earnestly. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you,” Gillian said conceitedly before turning her gaze on Olivia. “That dress was made for you,” she declared, seeming to return the olive branch. She motioned toward the stage. “And how many dresses did you manage to donate?”
“Oh, who’s keeping count?” Olivia replied just to bug Gillian, who was undoubtedly keeping count. The hatchet wasn’t buried all the way just yet.
“And everything is going to charity?” Gillian asked disbelievingly.
“Ten different charities, in fact,” Olivia said. “Everything will go to benefit programs in the county. There’s everything from food banks to animal shelters to disaster relief.”
“Well,” Gillian responded. “I hope the dress I donated fetches a steep price then.”
“If you’d like, I can try and talk it up,” Olivia offered.
Gillian smirked. “It’s Chanel, darling. It’ll speak for itself.”
Olivia gave a nod, hiding a smirk of her own. “It was so nice to see you, Gillian.” While that may have been a bit of an exaggeration, she couldn’t be upset with anyone who had donated, and Gillian’s Chanel gown would undoubtedly earn a hefty price from one of the eager bidders packed into the auction hall.
Turning around, Olivia readied a look of Can you believe her? Only this time, there was no one to shoot it to. Instead, she took another sip of her champagne, quietly lamenting the fact that she had chosen to leave out one person at the top of her contact list.
Mia.
For some reason, Olivia hadn’t been ready to call her. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t thought about it, her thumb hovering over the contact for what felt like minutes before she moved on. She didn’t know what to say, not yet. While she could have told Mia that she had recommended her for the Meredith Mitchum film, she wasn’t sure if it would just come off as a namedropping gloat on her behalf. Oh, Meredith Mitchum called me personally and when she did I made sure to mention you. Yo
u’re welcome!
So she had made the decision to keep their stony silence in place. But it would have been nice to have Mia around, Olivia thought, not only to commiserate about the not-so-nice people in Hollywood, but simply because she was her friend.
But Mia wasn’t the only one missing from her life anymore. She still thought about Trayce, her thumb hovering over his contact more than once. Like Mia, she didn’t know what to say. Maybe she would have to eventually accept that they just weren’t meant to be, but she didn’t feel remotely close to being able to do that yet. The pain was still so fresh that her heart hurt whenever she thought about it long enough. Maybe that was why she had thrown herself into the charity auction, it gave her something to distract herself. Where previously she might have turned to a lavish spa day, or a shopping spree in Beverly Hills, it felt different to be giving back. It felt good, and right now, she needed all the positive endorphins she could get.
“Look at you.” Jamie emerged from the crowd, a glowing smile on her face. “Who knew you were so philanthropic?” she teased.
“Me, apparently,” Olivia replied with a smile of her own. “But thanks. The turnout has been better than I thought.”
“People love to come out for a good cause,” Jamie observed, her blue-eyed stare wandering around the room. “And they love couture fashion. It’s the best of both worlds.” She stepped closer to her. “You know, Olivia, I think this could be just the right kind of publicity you needed.”
Olivia nodded. It surprised her how little she had thought about the publicity aspect since coming up with the auction, but she couldn’t deny that Jamie was right. If only she would have thought of it a lot sooner, before the whole debacle at the train station.
Then again, if she had, she would have never met Trayce. Although, lately, she couldn’t tell if that was good or bad. Was it better to have loved and lost, or to have never loved at all? And had she really lost him for good?
She couldn’t think about it anymore, not without wanting to cry, and she wasn’t going to host an auction with mascara running down her face. “Well,” she told Jamie, glancing down at her watch. “Looks like I’m due on stage.”