Текст книги "To Love Jason Thorn"

Автор книги: Ella Maise

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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

Maybe it never had.

Chapter Three Jason

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was Emily’s worried face hovering over me.

“Good morning,” I said, yawning through the words. “What time is it? Did we miss breakfast?” Sitting up on the makeshift bed I’d made use of almost every other day for the last seven years, I rubbed my eyes and tried to wake up.

“Jason. Honey.” I heard Emily’s struggle with those simple words and became alert at once.

Then my gaze fell on Dylan, who was sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. I looked up and saw his father, Logan Taylor—a fireman, a man I respected more than my old man—standing in the doorway. His eyes were as hard as steel.

“What’s going on?” I asked no one in particular as something ugly started to find its way into me.

Emily, the woman I loved quite possibly more than my own mom, sat down next to me and gripped my hand in her small, delicate one. She had burn marks on that arm, almost up to her shoulder, but they never bothered me like they surprisingly bothered a lot of people, young and old.

“Jason, I don’t know how to say this.”

Another burst of silence.

“Can someone please say something? Dylan? What’s going on, man?” Still no sound. “Okay, you guys are starting to scare me.”

“Logan,” Emily murmured next to me, her eyes desperately focused on her husband.

Dylan’s father shook his head, dropped his arms, and stepped into the room to sit next to Dylan, right across from me.

When my best friend lifted his head, I saw his bloodshot eyes.

My gaze went back to his father’s steely ones. They were easier to look at. Anger was always easier to handle than emotion; I had learned that from my own family.

“I’m ready,” I said, keeping my eyes on Logan. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

I didn’t know it, but I was not actually ready for the words he would give me. Nowhere near ready.

“Son,” he started, because that’s what I was to him. “You can handle this.”

It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway.

“Your mother overdosed on her sleeping pills last night. She is gone.”

I blinked, once.

I nodded.

My voice thick and rough, I asked, “Who found her?”

“Apparently your father came back from his trip this morning. He called an ambulance, but Lorelai was already gone.”

“I understand. Where is my father?”

“He is at the hospital. I talked to him a few minutes ago.”

Helpless, I nodded again. What else could I do? What else was I supposed to do?

“Thank you,” I said, giving Emily’s hand a quick squeeze. “Thank you for being the ones to tell me.”

Every single person in the room I was sitting in had been more of a family to me than my own could ever be. I appreciated the fact that I could see the concern in their eyes, their concern for me. I never saw anything even close to it in my own mother’s eyes. Her alcohol meant more to her than her own son.

I slowly got up. “I should get back…home, I guess.”

But I had never had a home, had I? This was a home. The house across the street? Not so much.

Dylan and Logan got up with me, but I looked down at Mrs. Taylor. Her eyes were full of tears. She had the same shade of green eyes as her daughter, just as striking as Olive’s. It was soothing to look at.

I leaned down and, surprising myself, brushed a small kiss on her cheek.

“Please don’t cry, Emily. It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

It sounded more like a question to my ears.

She slowly got up and brushed a tear away, my tear. I wasn’t even aware that I was crying. Her warm hand cupped my cheek and she stared right into my eyes. “Of course it will be okay, Jason. You have us.”

I nodded.

Unexpectedly, I found myself in Dylan’s arms next. “I’m so sorry, man,” he said, holding on to me. I felt Emily’s hand at my back, a soothing caress. Logan was standing next to us, watching over his family.

I was family to them.

I’d earned that place among them.

***

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay here and finish school with Dylan? I can talk to your dad again,” offered Logan.

The Taylor family was out on their front lawn. Even little Olive had come out to say goodbye with tear-filled eyes. I smiled at her. I could see sparkles in her eyes, sad sparkles maybe, but sparkles nonetheless. She was so full of life and had the most beautiful, captivating green eyes. So rich and alive. The kind that you looked at and let yourself happily drown in. I knew some idiot was bound to break her heart very soon, but I wouldn’t be there to protect her heart right alongside her brother. I wouldn’t be with the people I considered my family.

Instead, I would be in Los Angeles living in an unfamiliar house with a stranger I called Dad who I had never had the chance to get to know. For a quick second I wondered if he was blaming himself for her death. He certainly hadn’t been there when his presence could’ve made a difference. Maybe the ending wouldn’t have changed, maybe a few years down we would’ve still ended up in the same situation, but we would never know. It was too late for everything.

As for what I thought…I blamed life, and him. He was the one who’d chosen to leave us behind when he could’ve been a lawyer in San Francisco just as easily. He was the one who’d chosen to ignore my mother’s quickly deteriorating mental health, or depression, whatever you wanted to call it. And then he’d been the one who’d ignored me when I said his wife was becoming an alcoholic.

In the end, the choices they had made were changing my life.

“He isn’t changing his mind. Believe me, I tried,” I said finally.

I shrugged. Everything had changed except my dad’s decision: we were leaving. Or, more accurately, he was forcing me to leave everything behind.

Kicking at the grass under my foot, I stopped in front of Emily, the kindest, most caring human being. A mother who could never be truly mine.

“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted, words burning in my chest as my eyes continued to look down at my sneakers.

“Jason?”

Warm, gentle hands cupped my face and looked into my eyes.

“Do you remember what I said to you the first time we met?” She smiled, her eyes shining just like her daughter’s. “You’re always welcome here. That will never change. Los Angeles isn’t that far away; I’m expecting you to come back whenever you want to or need to. Do you hear what I’m saying?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “I don’t know how to thank you for everything you’ve done for me, for everything you’ve been for me.”

“I don’t need a thank you, Jason. Just make sure you come back to us.” She hesitated, only for half a second, then pulled me down and kissed my cheeks. “Make sure you take care of yourself.” One last look in my eyes, and she let me go.

I wished she wouldn’t.

“Son,” Logan said as he gave me a quick, unexpected hug. “You heard what Emily said, this is your home too. And you always come back to your home. Don’t forget that. We will miss you.”

It seemed like I wasn’t capable of doing anything other than nod that day.

I glanced at Olive and despite my situation, my lips tipped up.

“Cat got your tongue, too, huh?” She just stared at me with those sad, sad eyes. Olive Taylor always had something to say—always. “You’ve got nothing to say, little one?” I asked, chuckling, the sound completely wrong and rough.

“I’m really sorry about your mom, but I hope you’ll be happy in LA.”

The cold tone and what I was seeing in her eyes didn’t match, but before I could say anything, Dylan got up from the steps he was sitting on and Olive hugged her dad’s waist, shutting me out.

Even so, I reached out and gently touched her soft hair, tugging it gently before letting it go for the last time.

“I hope so too. And thank you, little one, I will never forget you.”

A tear slid down from her eye, and before I knew what I was doing, I reached out to capture it with my fingertip.

She closed her eyes and hugged her dad tighter when I touched her, but didn’t say anything.

I looked at the teardrop that rested on my fingertip for a long time and felt a tug on my heartstrings.

“Man,” Dylan said, saving me from my confusing thoughts.

I released a big breath and dropped my finger.

“This sucks,” he said.

I chuckled. “You’re tellin me.”

“I want you to come back the first chance you get, and you are keeping in touch.”

I snapped a sharp salute, causing his mouth to twitch.

Hitting my chin with his knuckles, he groaned. “Oh, man. I can’t believe I’m gonna miss seeing your shitty face every day.”

“Dylan!” Emily admonished.

“Sorry, Mom.” Rubbing the back of his neck, Dylan looked at me sheepishly. “We’ll talk?”

“We’ll talk,” I promised.

“Jason,” my father called out from the car waiting across the street.

“I better go,” I said, taking a few steps back.

Giving Dylan a quick hug and a slap on his back, I said, “Take care of your family, man.”

“You make sure you take care of yourself, too.”

My chest heavy, I looked at all of them one last time and walked away. I wasn’t strong enough to stride away from them without turning back. In the time it took me to cross the street, I looked back three times.

Did it make me a bad person to be happy to see them sad? Happy because I felt loved? Loved and welcome as I’d never been before?

How they stood together as a family was burned into my mind as a happy memory, and then I got into the car and disappeared from their life.

Chapter Four Olive

My emotions waging a war inside me, I clung to my dad and watched Jason get into the black Mercedes. The image of him turning to look at us with a dimpled smile before he got into the car would be burned into my mind as a sad memory for years to come.

Then like every other fleeting moment in life, my first love slowly faded into time.

Chapter Five Jason

Eight years later…

Pushing the private back door of the nightclub open with my shoulder, I dragged the giggling mess out with me. Since she was busy pawing at me with those claw-like fingers, she tripped over her own feet, righting herself at the last moment, her giggling getting even louder. Gripping her waist to make sure she didn’t face plant in those spiky-heeled shoes, I checked the alley to make sure we were alone. As soon as the door closed and the heavy bass of the music drifted away to a buzz, I took Jenna’s hand off my dick and slammed her back against the concrete wall, eating up her moan in a hungry kiss.

Wait, is her name Gemma?

“Take me home, Jason,” she said, her words slightly slurring. She wasn’t drunk—if she were, I wouldn’t do this with her—but for some reason she chose to act like she was. I didn’t care for her games. “Take me home and I’ll show you a few new tricks.”

More giggling.

Jamie maybe?

Fuck!

“This is better, babe. Don’t you feel the thrill?” I asked in a low voice as my lips ghosted over her skin against her throat. “Anyone can walk out on us. Doesn’t that excite you?”

What the hell is her name again? She hadn’t had a big role in the movie, but we’d shared the same set for about a month. She twirled and skipped around me whenever she found me alone in a corner, watching the crew work. She whispered dirty, dirty things in my ear—at least dirty for a girl her age—when no one was around. At last, after countless ‘fuck me eyes’ had been thrown my way at the wrap party that night, little brunette beauty Jessie (???) was about to get the fuck of her life against a concrete wall in the back alley of a club. Looking at her flushed skin and already dazed eyes, I could see that it wasn’t bothering her in the slightest that she was about to get fucked like a cheap hooker, out in the open.

That was all she would be for me, and most likely for the others that would come after me—producers, agents, etc.

“Aww, you can’t wait to slide your dick into my pussy, can you? I can’t wait either. I knew you were crazy about me Jason,” she whispered into my ear right before she licked it, trying to kill my ear with the stabbing motions of her tongue.

Christ!

I pushed her face away.

Her high-pitched voice buzzed around in my head, making me too aware of the alcohol I had consumed.

Ignoring her words, I lifted Jenna’s skintight silver dress up and over her hips, making sure to caress her toned thighs as she moaned against my neck, her heart racing.

She kept mumbling in between sloppy kisses, but I tuned her out and let myself get lost in her body.

At that point, I wasn’t feeling much, just some sort of house music pounding in my head making it too hard to think clearly. My dick was definitely feeling something as it strained against my jeans, dying to get into her tight pussy.

“You knew you were gonna get fucked tonight, didn’t you…babe?”

Damn it! I still couldn’t remember her name.

“Yes. Yes. I knew you couldn’t stay away.” She gasped as my fingers found their way to her…butterfly? What the hell? Normally I wouldn’t care, but, well, sue me, I was a curious bastard.

I took a step back from her octopus arms and looked down to find a sparkling butterfly holding two flimsy straps around it wings. Her pussy was open for all to see in her crotchless panties—if you could even call them panties, that is.

“Huh,” I muttered. “I guess that makes my job easier.”

My dick was still roaring to get into action so I shrugged her hands off my shoulders and took out a condom from my back pocket, pulling it on pretty quickly considering my buzzed state.

Lifting her thigh as high as it would wrap around me, I entered her in a quick deep thrust as she gasped in delight.

“Jesus, you filled me,” she said in surprise.

“You like that, babe? Is that what you’ve been after for so long? Getting filled up properly?” Another thrust and her eyes fluttered close.

“Yeah, it’s better than what I’ve heard.” Her voice was all dreamy, which made me hesitant to keep fucking her. I didn’t do dreamy. A one-time quick fuck that would get us both off was more my kinda thing. Dreamy led to complicated stuff, and even though I liked to believe that as an actor I could sell a good dream, or hell, even be a good dream, I wasn’t fucked up enough to think that I would find my own happy ending with my career choice. Not everyone would tolerate the lifestyle I led.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved my job. It was the only thing that made any sort of sense in my life. However, everything else? The constant isolation forced on you, the paparazzi hounding you, everyone dissecting your every little move… After a while it felt like there was a noose around your throat that was being tightened by everyone in your life.

Yes. That’s exactly how I felt.

Indifferent. Tired.

The only time it seemed like I was breathing again was when I was on a movie set, pretending to be someone else.

In a way, my life was a play.

“Oh my god, Jason. Yes. Yes, I knew it would be like this with you.” She moaned as her words slurred. I picked up my pace. This was the only time she’d be getting fucked senseless by me; I should’ve been focused on her.

“Keep it quiet,” I hissed in her ear as her cries started to get higher. “You don’t want to get caught getting fucked in the street, do you?”

“I do. I do. Yes! Yes!”

I dropped my head to her shoulder and raced for the finish line. The quicker this was over, the quicker I could get back to my house.

Grabbing her ass, I wrapped both of her skinny legs around my waist and kept drilling into her. Her sharp cries echoed in the dark alley, blending with the music that was coming through the walls of the nightclub her back was against.

“Oh, fuck me, Jason,” she screeched in my ear.

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” I said through gritted teeth. With all her shrieking, I was already sobering up.

I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the task at hand. When she suddenly tipped over the edge to fucking dreamland, I swore and came after her as she kept squeezing my dick rhythmically.

Tipping my head back, I felt every muscle in my body relax and experienced the bliss I appreciated so much, even if it was only for a few seconds.

That’s exactly when I heard the running footsteps coming from behind us. Looking over my shoulder, I saw the first of many blinding flashlights.

“Fuck,” I swore, my hands quickly getting rid of the condom before they could get to us.

Jenna slumped back on the wall and sighed, an even more doped up smile beginning to form on her lips as she started to fix her hair.

Zipping up my fly, I pulled down her skirt for her as she was too busy already beaming up to our intruders over my shoulder.

Shit! They were almost on us. Thankfully, my body was big enough to hide her from their cameras so I doubted they had gotten any shots of what we’d been doing just seconds before. At best, they would think I’d taken her out for a quick make out session.

“Jason! Jason! Is this a new relationship?” the one with the mustache yelled.

Click. Click. Click.

“Did your love start on set? Are the rumors true?”

“When are you goin’ public with this?”

Click. Click.

“Did you start a relationship to promote your new movie?”

“Jason! Talk to us man! What were you guys doing back here?”

A few of them snickered.

Click. Click. Click.

What’s-her-name threw her arms around my neck and beamed at the cameras. “How did you find us back here? This was supposed to be secret. We were being clever.”

My face a mask of calm, I gently shrugged off her arms yet again and opened the private back door to push her back into the club.

Her eyes were as big as saucers and she couldn’t do anything but gape at me as I closed the door on her face and turned to face the paps still shouting questions at me. Thankfully, there were only seven or eight of them.

“Jason! There is a clip of you with Zoey where it looks like you are getting busy in your car. Now you are with Jennifer, any comments?”

Ah! So that was her name.

“Have a nice evening, guys,” I said in a bored tone, ignoring their questions. I put my hands in my pockets and they parted for me to pass, their voices getting higher and higher in my head. I didn’t specifically hear what they were saying, but I knew I would be getting a phone call first thing the next morning from my agent, Tom Symond, who had become a good friend over the years, and of course my publicist, Megan.

A few minutes later, I was in my car racing back to Bel Air, still as edgy and empty as I’d been at the beginning of the night.

Chapter Six Olive

“Can you please remind me why you couldn’t come with me again?” I whispered to Lucy on the phone as I pressed my forehead to the wall in the corner of the white waiting room where I sat, waiting to be called in.

“Babe, calm down. If it wasn’t the little bitch’s class, you know I’d be there holding your hand every step of the way. The woman already has it out for me; I can’t give her more ammo. By the time you get home, I’ll have the tequila shots ready to celebrate. Focus on that. It’ll help.”

I closed my eyes. I was seconds away from throwing up. To calm down and focus on something else, I started to pace up and down in my little corner. Happy thoughts, I encouraged myself.

Happy, happy thoughts.

There was a blonde girl sitting on the U-shaped white couch. She’d been busy texting away and then taking useless selfies for the last ten minutes. She was all dolled up and had a so very obviously fake tan that was already going splotchy on her. She hadn’t let that thing—that phone that had mickey ears on it—down even for a second ever since she’d stepped in through the doors.

I mean, for god’s sake, how many freaking pictures can you take while sitting in the exact same spot, smiling the same fake smile? I’d stopped counting after thirty.

Looking at her making another pouty face as she squeezed her breasts together with her arms, I groaned.

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” I whispered into my phone.

“Oh shut up. Pull up your big girl panties and bra and wow them with your pretty little smile.”

“Since you are doing such a crappy job with the best friend gig, at least remind me why Char couldn’t come with me?”

Lucy let out a long breath. “Charlotte would be trembling right beside you if you took her with you. That’s why we didn’t tell her where you were going, remember?”

I did. She was right; if Charlotte were there, they would remember us as the shaking duo—not the best first impression you’d want to make with anyone, let alone the studio people who were interested in adapting your book into a fucking movie.

“I hate you.”

“I love you too, my anxious babe.”

“Lucy,” I started again in a miserable tone. “The meeting was at 2:30, it’s almost 3. Maybe I should leave? Maybe they made a mistake scheduling this. I mean, who am I kidding, right? Clearly, this isn’t happening. I don’t want to wait around to see someone jump out and scream, ‘Jokes on you, sucka!’ I just wanna come home. Can I come home, please?”

“No, you can’t come home. I forbid you to come home before you take that meeting and come back with good news and lotsa money. Now, close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Do it, Olive.”

“Fine. My eyes are closed shut. You can come and pry them open if you want to win the best friend of the year award.”

“I already own the shit out of that award, babe, so that’s a useless threat. Are your eyes closed?”

“Yes,” I huffed.

“Ok. Now, imagine you are a river.”

“Ahhh,” I groaned. Not this crap again. “What are you doing?”

“Calming you the hell down.”

“By telling me I’m a river?”

“Yes. Now, shut up and imagine that you’re a river. You are flowing; no one and nothing can stop you. You feel the sunlight on your…whatever and it makes you happy. You are a twinkle of laughter in the air. Then, you turn into a small waterfall, no, you turn into a majestic waterfall and then yo—”

“Ok, ok, Lucy.” I cut her short before she could sputter more bullshit. “I’m calm. You calmed me down. I’m a cold river that hears twinkles of laughter in the air and then turns into a majestic waterfall thing.”

“Great, good for you. Now, I saw Jameson’s hot ass walk by me so I gotta go and take a bite out of that.” I tried to cut in, but she shushed me. “Make me proud and I’ll meet you at the house. Byeeeeee!”

I opened my mouth, but she had already hung up on me. I lowered my phone and smiled to myself. She hadn’t come anywhere near calming me down, but she always had a way of making me smile.

I looked around the black and white office. Everything looked so expensive: the art on the walls, the furniture, the carpet, even the damn windows looked all expensive and shiny. Feeling naked, nervous, scared, excited—did I mention naked?—I took a step forward to go sit down next to the clicker happy chick, but when I saw her take a selfie stick out of her bag, I decided against it.

Pacing it was.

My gaze landed on the women that sat behind the huge, crescent-shaped reception desk. They all looked like models, not secretaries. Not a single hair on their head was out of place while mine was a crazy wavy mess. I glanced down at my clothes… Well, obviously I didn’t fit in with their pencil skirt, blouse, and high-heeled office attire, but I looked good. Just a few hours before, Lucy had forced me to wear a black bandeau skirt with a simple white shirt and a thin leather jacket. Of course, she had tried to force me to wear high heels, but I had gotten away with wearing my lucky combat boots. I liked to think I looked chic and relaxed in a fashionable sort of way. However, it wasn’t helping me not feel out of place at all.

I focused on the brunette that had told me that I needed to wait a few minutes because the execs were running late. That few minutes had turned into forty minutes exactly one minute ago.

Please, don’t judge me. Normally I’m cool with waiting. Hell, any other time, I would’ve loved to sit down next to the photo chick and take pictures of her taking pictures of herself and have a laugh about it with Lucy and Charlotte when I got back home. But, minutes had a really slow way of moving when you were about to lose your cool and throw up in front of a handful of strangers. I couldn’t be held responsible for all the daggers I was throwing at the model-secretaries.

Hell, shame on them. What kind of cruel people were they that they were playing with my emotions like this? As far as I was concerned, they deserved all the imaginary sharp little daggers.

Finally the brunette met my eyes, held her finger to her ear to listen to whoever was talking on the other the end of her bluetooth thingy, then nodded once.

“Miss Taylor,” she called to me.

I closed my eyes, took a deep, shaky breath, and walked over to her.

She was already up from her seat and walking toward me. We met in the middle.

“I’m a river. I can flow peacefully,” I muttered to myself.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, nothing. Sorry.” I gave her a shaky smile.

“I’ll walk you to Mr. Thomas’ office. They are ready for you.”

“Thank you,” I said, trying very, very hard to keep my hands at my sides instead of doing something crazy like slipping my hand into hers to steal some of her cool.

That wouldn’t be weird, right?

She gave me a sincere smile, the first one actually, and led the way down the long hallway.

We turned right, passing more expensive paintings, and some movie posters, then we took a left turn, this time passing a whole bunch of small offices. Each time we passed an open door, I was ready to jump out of my skin with nervousness. When we made yet another turn, I was starting to feel like a hamster trying to get to its treat. Then there was only a big door in front of us.

I came to a halt. Was I really doing this? Was this really happening?

Shit!

Who was I kidding, this was going to be a complete disaster!

I was no majestic waterfall. Not even close.

The brunette stood next to the door and her hand paused on the handle before she pulled it open. Clearly, she was waiting for me to come closer, but I was having none of that. I lifted my eyes up to hers.

Fight or flight?

I was seconds away from flight.

Damn it!

How many turns had we made? Could I even find my way out of that labyrinth of hell without her?

I took an involuntary step back to test the waters and the next thing I knew she was standing right next to me, asking if I was okay, her hand surprisingly strong at my back.

I made an awful, awful mewling sound in my throat and then started coughing. When I was done with all that nonsense, her face had softened up.

“Sorry,” I murmured.

“You are nervous about the meeting?”

“It can’t be that obvious,” I said, trying to chuckle.

“You have nothing to be nervous about. I loved your book,” she stated, shocking the hell out of me.

My eyes widened. “What? You did? You read my book? You actually know who I am? Did you say you liked the book?” I asked, holding my breath. Well, she obviously had good taste; it was a damn good book after all.

“Yes, I did, and of course I know who you are. And right after this meeting, if you accept their offer, a lot more people will know about your story. You hit it big.”

I didn’t want to hit it big or get bigger. I didn’t want to get anything. At that moment, all I wanted was to get in my bed and hide under my covers.

“But you have to go in now.” I could see she was waiting for me to move already. “Mr. Thomas has a packed schedule and he is already behind.” She checked her dainty little watch then looked back at me. “Go on now, there isn’t much time until his next appointment.”

I wasn’t budging.

Before I knew what was happening, she had opened the door and was ushering me inside.

Catching myself before I fell down on my face, I came to a halt and heard the distinct sound of a door closing. I looked over my shoulder.

She was gone.

The traitor!

I turned around and found myself face to face with three suit-wearing men.

For a second I didn’t know what to do, but then I mentally shook myself off and walked toward them.

I was already in for it, might as well look like someone who knew what they were doing.

The bald one—I was assuming he was Bobby Thomas—came forward and met me halfway, quickly offering me his hand.

“Hello, Miss Taylor, I’m Bobby.” He greeted me with an easy smile on his face. If his eyes hadn’t been fixated on my breasts, I would have said he looked friendly.

Annoyed, I angled my face and caught his attention. “Nice to meet you Mr. Thomas,” I said pointedly.

“We’ll have none of that. Call me Bobby. By the end of all this we’ll get to know each other much better.”

I forced a smile on my face and gently pulled my hand out of his grasp.

The other two didn’t get up from their seat, but had their eyes on me again, assessing me.

Walking by my side, Bobby led me to the long table in front of the floor to ceiling windows.

Managing to look around, I noticed that we were in some kind of conference room, which did nothing to calm my nerves down. I was beyond out of my depth here.

“Olive, this is—can I call you Olive?”

“Sure,” I mumbled, distracted by his hand resting on the small of my back.

“Great. Olive, I’d like to introduce you to the youngest member of our company, Keith Cannon.”

With those pale blue eyes and sharp cheekbones, Keith Cannon made a very impressive first impression.

“Nice to meet you Keith. I’m Olive Taylor.”

I smiled up at him and shook his warm hand. He had long, strong fingers. His teeth looked a little too white, a little too blinding to be natural, but it was hard to find natural in LA.

Next to him, a shorter, younger guy who was busily typing away on his laptop got up and briskly shook my hand as Bobby continued with the introductions.

“This is probably very exciting for you, and if we agree on our terms, he will be the screenwriter for the movie. It’s important that we reflect everything in your story onto the big screen as well as you managed to do in a few hundred pages so I wanted you to meet Harry Schuman and hear out his ideas. He is actually here for our next meeting, but we’re running a little late today, so since he is already here, we wanted him to sit in on this with you.”

I nodded and after the pleasantries took my seat across from them.

“We understand that at this time you have no book agent, Olive. Is that right?” Keith asked.

“Yes,” I answered. “This wasn’t something I was expecting to happen. At all. I’m an indie author, and as you must already know, Soul Ache is my first novel, which makes all this even more surreal.”