Publicity Stunt (Hollywood Knights Book Two)

by Cassie Reed

  Jamie nodded. “Break a leg.”

  Ascending the short flight of steps to the top of the stage, Olivia turned toward the room and took a look around. It was a packed house, and as she took the mic, she only wished Trayce could see her now. Clearing her throat, she raised the mic to her mouth. “Thank you so much for coming out this evening. I’m Olivia Warner, and I’ll be the host of tonight’s auction,” she said, addressing the crowded room with a smile. “Now, with all those formalities out of the way, what do you say we get things started?”

  24

  One Month Later

  “Cut! That’s a wrap! Thanks, guys, incredible work out there.”

  Trayce pulled the snug Captain Patriot mask from off his face and nodded toward the director as the cast and crew poured out a round of applause. They had just finished filming one of the last stunts for the movie, and soon the job would be coming to a close. The thought was bittersweet for Trayce. This latest Captain Patriot film would be the final installment in the trilogy, and there was a good chance that after today, Trayce would never don the mask again. On the other hand, he could use the final check that would be coming from the production company. It would go a long way toward paying for some of Layton’s physical therapy sessions. His brother had been killing it lately and they couldn’t afford to stop now and risk losing some of the progress he had made. He had even started to be able to drive himself.

  Walking off set, Trayce helped himself to a cup of water, gulping down the cold liquid hungrily. As he stood there off to the side of the bustling set, Dean Evers nodded at him. “Hey,” he said, already changed from filming his own scenes earlier. Trayce envied him. While he was going to miss the part, frankly he couldn’t wait to part with the skintight suit. “A bunch of us are headed to The Polo Lounge to celebrate. You in?”

  “Busy,” Trayce replied simply. While he didn’t want to seem like a curmudgeon, hanging out at a bar while a bunch of actors snapped selfies of themselves and talked about their vacation plans wasn’t really for him. “Maybe next time though,” he added to not seem like a total jerk.

  Dean smirked. “What next time? We’re almost done shooting. But I get it. I will just add,” he continued, cocking his head over his shoulder to look at the actress Krista Lanigan, still suited up in her spy uniform as Lady Reaper. “Krista did hint that she was looking forward to you being there tonight.”

  “She doesn’t know me very well then,” Trayce quipped.

  “That’s what I told her,” Dean said, holding his hands out. “But I didn’t say I wouldn’t try.”

  Trayce nodded, taking one last look at Krista. While the actress was beautiful and would undoubtedly be someone’s cup of tea anywhere she went, he didn’t want to lead her on. Especially when his heart still felt unavailable.

  “Hey, buy her a drink,” Trayce said with a sideways grin. “You are my body double, you know.” He got way too much satisfaction out of the offended look Dean responded with.

  “Very funny,” the actor murmured, sweeping a hand over his hair subconsciously despite his good-natured grin. “But it’ll be my name at the top of the marquee every night.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Trayce replied. “Have a good time tonight.”

  “Oh, we will,” Dean said. “See ya around, Bradford.”

  Trayce returned to his trailer, taking refuge in the cool interior of the little room. He had just managed to unzip the suit and begin peeling it halfway off when his phone began to ring. Grabbing it, he accepted Layton’s call. “You okay?” he asked, knowing Layton would just be getting out of physical therapy.

  “I’m okay,” his brother responded, temporarily putting Trayce’s mind at ease. “What are you doing?”

  “Honestly,” Trayce said, leaning against the wall of his trailer as he held the phone up to his ear. “Emerging from this suit like a caterpillar.”

  “Talcum powder is your friend, man.”

  “You think I don’t know that already?” Trayce said. “So what’s going on? Last time you called me for no reason you had butt dialed me from leaning against a wall for too long with your crutches.”

  “Listen,” Layton began. “They had the old billing talk with me today at the end of my session.”

  Trayce sighed and ran a hand over his face. He could feel the tension begin to build in him just from the mention of it. “Look, can they just defer the payments for one more month? I’ve got that big check coming—”

  “That’s the thing,” came Layton’s hushed reply. “They said I don’t owe them anything. They told me my next ten sessions are paid in full.”

  “What?” Trayce said, frowning. “How is that possible?”

  “They said they were earmarked a certain amount from the charity that runs through FAME.” Layton paused. “You don’t know anyone on the board, do you?”

  Trayce felt the blood rush to his face.

  Olivia.

  He groaned. Had she given her own money to help them? If she couldn’t afford to heat her own pool, how had she pulled this off? And why?

  “I’ll get to the bottom of it,” Trayce said.

  “You’ll get to the bottom of it?” Layton repeated. “Are you still in Captain Patriot mode? Get her a bouquet of roses. We owe her a huge thank you.”

  “I said I’ll figure it out,” Trayce replied quickly. “I’ll call you later.”

  Ending the call, he immediately opened the internet browser in his phone and searched her name. As he waited for the millions of results for Olivia Warner, he couldn’t believe he had never been tempted to do this before. He knew enough about her Hollywood persona, he realized. And it paled in comparison to the real thing. The real woman who had once stood before him, the one he had held in his arms and never wanted to let go.

  But let her go he had.

  As her smiling face filled one portion of his screen, he clicked over to News to find the latest stories about her.

  OLIVIA WARNER’S STAR-STUDDED CHARITY AUCTION SPAWNS A WAVE OF CELEBRITY COPYCATS.

  Trayce clicked on the story, skimming through it to find a linked article about the original charity auction. Olivia was pictured onstage, smiling before a sea of colorful dresses. Oscar-winner Olivia Warner sparkled Saturday evening as she hosted an auction of history-making dresses and costumes, some of them the actress’s very own. . .

  He set his phone down, his eyes focusing on the wall in front of him. He had to talk to her, now. But he had to do it in person.

  ***

  Trayce rode his bike so fast he felt like he was doing a stunt of his own. Riding through the curves and turns of the Hollywood Hills, his eyes refused to be distracted by any house that wasn’t hers. Focusing on the road ahead of him, his anticipation at seeing her grew with each passing minute. As he turned onto her street, the burnt orange of her tile roof came into view over the horizon. Hitting the gas, he sped toward her gate until it wasn’t safe to keep accelerating anymore.

  Pressing the call button outside, he waited, his heart hammering in his chest at the thought of hearing her voice again. But the answer never came. Craning his head, he stared at the house. Was she not home, he wondered, silently cursing himself. Why hadn’t he just called like a normal person? But whatever he was waiting to say to her felt important, something he could only tell her face to face. He was afraid calling her would give both of them too easy of a way out. They would exchange pleasantries, he would thank her like Layton said, and then what? He needed to know what she wanted, because he was beginning to realize he knew exactly what it was that he wanted.

  As his gaze swept over the house, his eyes landed on a sign just past the gate, large, white, and square. He walked up to it slowly, his mind racing before it was able to make the confirmation. It was a sign from a local realty company to the stars. And it read the property was SOLD.

  Trayce shook his head.

  What was happening? And where had she gone?

  25

  Olivia propped her h
ands against her new kitchen counter and gazed around the space that made up her new surroundings. She had fallen in love with the house almost as soon as she had seen it, and to her surprise, her offer to buy had been accepted. With three bedrooms and two and a half baths, it was more than the perfect size for her and whatever the future might hold. Walking into the middle of the living room, she couldn’t resist the urge to let out a call of, “Hello?”

  She listened.

  No echo.

  That might have been her favorite thing about the house. Well, one of them, at least.

  The doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of the first guest she had invited over since moving in. Opening the door, she couldn’t help but smile at the person standing on the other side.

  “Mia,” she said, resisting the urge to hug her. “It’s good to see you.”

  Mia stood on the other side of the door, her arms folded across her chest. “Thanks for inviting me,” she replied simply. “I can’t stay long but I figured we had some things to talk about. The dress you let me borrow is in the car, by the way.”

  Olivia waved her hand. “We can talk about that later. Come inside.”

  Mia stepped into the house, her eyes wandering around the front room. “You unpacked fast,” she noted.

  “You know me,” Olivia told her. “I can’t stand an undecorated space.”

  Mia nodded, her expression still flat.

  “Mia,” Olivia began. “I wanted to say I’m sorry—”

  “I forgive you. I overreacted,” Mia said quickly. “I’m sorry for giving you the cold shoulder at the awards. I was just. . .”

  “You don’t owe me an explanation,” Olivia replied. “I was the one being selfish.”

  Mia was quiet, her expression beginning to soften. “I heard what you said about me to Meredith Mitchum. She called me herself to invite me to do a reading.”

  Olivia gasped. “Oh, yes! That’s awesome news, Mia!”

  Mia’s face broke into a wide smile. “I know. Honestly, when she called me, you were the first person I wanted to tell.” She shook her head, stepping forward and enveloping Olivia in a hug. “I thought when I came over here, I was going to be able to ice you out. But I can’t. I missed you too much.”

  “I missed you too,” Olivia said, hugging her back. “And I actually have a surprise for you.” Stepping away, she went and retrieved a garment bag from where it was lying on her dining room table.

  “What’s this?” Mia asked as she gave it to her.

  “Well, as you know,” Olivia prefaced. “I was able to sell a lot of my dresses, but I did keep a few of my favorites. Including this one.”

  Mia looked at her curiously before unzipping the bag. “Your Gucci slip dress?” she gasped. “Olivia, I can’t.”

  “You can. I want you to have it.”

  Mia sighed, holding the dress close to her body. “You know, TMI tried to crucify me for my little slip up at the Film Critics’ Awards.”

  “What slip up?” Olivia asked innocently.

  “You know the one,” Mia said. “When I called the dress I had on Gucci instead of Versace.”

  “You only saw me mouth the ‘chi’,” Olivia said knowingly.

  “I only saw the ‘chi’,” Mia agreed.

  “Well now you have both,” Olivia told her. “And you can just pretend you confused this one with the other one if it ever comes up again. Not like it will. This town has the collective memory of a goldfish for things like that. Just embrace that it makes you look cute and relatable.”

  “I can do that,” Mia said with a smile. She looked down at the dress. “This is unbelievable. Thank you.”

  “Hopefully you can get some use out it,” Olivia said.

  “Maybe during a future award season,” Mia said with a lift of her eyebrows.

  Olivia grinned. “I have a good feeling we’re going to be seeing you everywhere soon.”

  “I’ll call you when they ask me to do the cover of Vogue.”

  “You better,” Olivia said.

  She let out a breath. It felt good to pass the torch to Mia, and to be in a place where she felt comfortable enough to be happy for her friend, and not just jealous.

  “So,” Mia said suddenly. “Have you heard from Trayce?”

  “Trayce?” Olivia repeated, studying Mia’s face. She looked way too guilty to have brought it up for no reason. “I can’t say that I have. Why?”

  Mia shrugged, her lips twitching with the urge to spit something out.

  “Mia. . .” Olivia prompted her.

  “Huh?” her friend said cluelessly.

  “Why are you bringing up Trayce Bradford?”

  Mia shrugged. “No reason. Just wondering if you still thought about him at all.”

  Olivia was quiet. Of course she had thought about Trayce. Sometimes it seemed like that was all she did. As much as she had tried to give herself a fresh start by loosening her white knuckle grip on Hollywood, throwing herself into her new role as a producer, and buying a house she could actually afford, a part of her refused to move on. But she had to assume he knew what he wanted, and if that meant staying away from her, so be it. She only wanted the best for him.

  “Sometimes,” she answered demurely. “Why? Have you. . .talked to him?”

  Mia looked at her. “Why would I have talked to him?”

  “Well, he was an acquaintance of yours before he was an acquaintance of mine.”

  “That’s true,” Mia said. She paused before her face crumbled. “Okay! I have a confession to make.”

  “Uh-huh.” Olivia waited.

  “Trayce called me.”

  “Oh. . .”

  “To ask about you,” Mia continued. “He said he drove over to your house one day and you weren’t there.”

  Olivia’s mouth fell open. “Wait, really?”

  “Really,” Mia declared. “And I sort of. . .told him you had moved and gave him your new address.”

  Olivia gaped at her. “Mia.”

  “That’s not all,” Mia said. “I also sort of told him you would be home today. Since I would be visiting you and everything.”

  “Seriously?” Olivia exclaimed.

  “I know,” Mia said cringing. “Sorry. It’s just. . . you two were made for each other, let’s just face it.”

  Olivia’s eyes fluttered shut. “Mia. That’s just. . .”

  “The truth?” Mia pressed. “Please, Olivia, just give him a chance. Give both of you a chance.” She waited. “Are you mad?”

  “No,” Olivia admitted. On one hand, she was actually relieved. Relieved that Trayce was still thinking about her, enough to ask about her. But would he go one step further and actually come to find her? “I guess that puts the ball in his court now.”

  They were quiet for a moment, both of them staring at nothing in particular, until Olivia’s ears suddenly picked up the sound of something familiar. “Is that a. . .?”

  Mia listened for a moment before her eyes widened. “I should go,” she announced.

  “It’s a fricking motorcycle, Mia!” Olivia exclaimed, her mind beginning to panic.

  “I know,” Mia replied excitedly. “That’s why I should go now. Unless you want me to stay.”

  Olivia ran both hands through her hair exasperatedly. “It’s okay,” she sighed. “Everything will be okay.”

  “It’ll be more than okay,” Mia told her, placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing. “Just tell him how you really feel.”

  “I’m not sure if I know that myself,” Olivia murmured.

  “Of course you do,” Mia said. “Just ask your heart.”

  They hugged one last time before Olivia opened the door for her. As she watched Mia walk down the footpath to her car, the motorcycle engine could be heard even louder than before. It was fast approaching and it made her stomach flip so many times it could have won an Olympic gold medal. She stood in her open front door and waited.

  And suddenly, there he was.

  26

&nb
sp; “You’ve got some nerve,” Trayce declared, surprising even himself. He hadn’t expected those to be his first words when seeing Olivia again, but he just couldn’t help himself.

  She gawked at him from the doorway of her new house, eyes wide like she was seeing a ghost. “Excuse me?” he heard her say.

  He strode up the path toward her like he was on a mission, but slowed once he reached her, standing a few feet away. She looked more beautiful than ever, her dark hair tumbling down her shoulders, her body wrapped in a casual sweater dress and cutoff jeans. “I said, you’ve got some nerve,” he repeated.

  She seemed to be sizing him up, her gaze traveling up and down his body. “For?” she asked.

  “You didn’t have to pay for Layton’s physical therapy,” he told her. “We were handling it ourselves.”

  “It wasn’t me, it was the charity,” she explained simply. “And if you don’t like it, donate his sessions to someone who wants them. Now did you just come here to rail on me or would you like to come in?”

  He looked at her. He had come all the way here after all, and no, his original intention hadn’t been to chew her out. But if he stopped being irked with her, all that would be left were his true feelings. “I can come in for a minute,” he yielded anyway, stepping through her doorway as she waved him in. He gazed around her house as she closed the door behind them. “Why did you move?” he found himself asking.

  She let out a breath. “It was time to downsize into something that was more who I am now, and less who I was when I thought I needed to fit in with the rest of Hollywood. Here, I can afford my housekeeper no problem. I have no stupid pool to heat. And it’s closer to the beach so I can see the stars.” She paused. “The real stars, that is.” She shot a glance in his direction. “What? You don’t believe me?”

  “I didn’t say that,” he murmured.