Page 5 of The Starlet
Our laughter dies down, an easy silence stretching between us. The wine makes my head fuzzy, and I start watching the people around us. I enjoy going out to eat alone or sitting in the park just so I can people watch. My favorite is when I see two people who are genuinely in love with one another. The way he looks at her and the way she’ll hold his hand or be in constant contact. Or when one looks at the other with so much love and adoration while the other doesn’t notice. Most people don’t even realize they do it. It’s the small gestures of affection that make my heart ache.
Hollywood’s a very lonely place. There are plenty of people willing to help warm your bed at night but not as many who want to stick around through the tough times. I want someone who’s willing to be there through the failed auditions, me being sick, and when I am stressed and eating too many sweets.
The only men—no,boys—I’ve met haven’t wanted any part of that. All of them have been after their own personal gain. They want to be invited to the parties and premieres, to flirt with the studio heads and be photographed as they try to launch their own careers.Assholes!
Ryan, the last guy I dated, was the worst of them, and we were together for eightlongmonths. We met on the set of another movie. He’s an aspiring director who was working as a cameraman who was sweet and made me laugh on and off set.
I thought Ryan was exactly what I was looking for. Someone who would walk beside me and support me, and would allow me to do the same for him. He was an amazing lover; I’d be lying if I said otherwise. He could drive me crazy with a simple text. Things were great between us—until they weren’t.
There’s something to be said about people who don’t care who they hurt to get what they want.
I’ve never been like that, and I was devastated to learn Ryan was. I went through a stretch where I wasn’t getting cast in roles, and I guess he figured I was of no use to him anymore. He began withdrawing. Texts became few and far between, and calls became even more sparse.
The final straw was when I saw him at dinner with Jennifer Stoneham, America’s Sweetheart, and his tongue was jammed down her throat. I don’t know how long it had been going on, but I dumped his ass the same night and he didn’t even seem to care.
I shake the depressing thoughts from my head and look at the couple behind Bradley. A giggle erupts as I watch them interact. The guy is sweating like a sinner in church, and she seems to have tuned him out.
“What’s so funny?”
“The couple behind you.” He tries to turn, so I place my hand on his, stopping him. The feeling of electricity returns, and the hairs on my arm stand up. I pull back suddenly. “No. You can’t make it obvious.” I suck in a shallow breath and try to relax my erratic heart.Down, girl.“You know how some people create stories about other people they see?” He nods. “I love doing that. I have a great one for them.”
“Okay…” He turns enough to glance at them from the corner of his eye. He nods in their direction. “Tell me about them.”
“He slept with her best friend and is trying to find a way to confess it to her. He feels guilty and wanted to take her to a nice dinner to hopefully avoid a scene. You know, social convention and all that.”
“Of course.” His lips turn up into a lopsided smirk as he nods.
“Every time he tries to tell her, he gets tongue tied and doesn’t know what to say. The thing is, she already knows because her friend told her. So, she slept with his brother to get back at him.”
His eyebrows shoot up, and his lips part in amusement. “Wow, she’s not very nice, is she?”
I giggle. “Nope, she’s currently on Tinder looking for another hook-up.” My giggle turns into a full belly laugh, and I place my hand to my chest to calm down. A few heads turn in our direction, and I see a few cameras come out to snap a picture.
Those will be on the internet soon. Wonder what the headline will be?
Finally, I get it together. He’s watching me, smiling. “Sorry, it’s the wine. Red wine always does it to me,” I offer.
I watch his lips as he speaks. “No need to be sorry.”
My mind wanders toAltered Realityand that damned kiss. I bite my lower lip and imagine crawling over the table, fisting his black shirt, and pulling his lips to mine. He’d run his hands through my hair and tug at the ends. I’d tip my head back, giving him access to all my favorite spots—neck, ear, breasts.
Dear Lord, I think I need a cold shower.
* * *
The evening is perfect.It turns out Bradley appreciates my pervy sense of humor and can even dish it back. This will make for an interesting few months—especially with the intimate scenes we have together. At least, we’ll be able to laugh with one another. The night ends on a perfect note, and I know he probably has to get home. It doesn’t change the fact I don’t want it to end yet.
“Thank you for tonight. I had a great time. I’m sure we’re going to have fun working together.” I reach for the handle, and he grabs my left hand. The warmth and strength of his hand on mine sends a pang of want between my legs. The longer he holds my hand, the stronger the feeling becomes.
I hold his stare, and his eyes flick down as my tongue peeks out to wet my lips.
“Hang on, let me.” Just like that, the spell is broken. He gets out and opens the door for me. His fingers linger on mine as I accept his help getting out.
Who said chivalry is dead?“Thank you.”
He walks me up to my front door as I fidget with my keys. “I had a great time tonight. Thank you again.”
“I did, too. You’re easy to talk to. I think we’re going to get along great.”