Текст книги "The Accidental Movie Star "
Автор книги: Emily Evans
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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 13 страниц)
Chapter 25
His words stopped her. Ashley turned to him, eyebrows raised, eyes wide. Take Caz to a dance at Trallwyn High School?She didn’t know how to address that astonishing proposal, so she started with the most obvious. “You’re famous. The…um…well…the trailer came out.”
“I’ve seen it.” Caz rubbed his thumb against her wrist.
Ashley tried to pull her arm free, but Caz stepped closer. Ashley said, “Your appearance will cause drama, big high school drama. You couldn’t understand, but you’d add to it.”
A horn honked from outside.
“You’d add to it big time.”
Caz slid his hand to the upper part of her arm. “You can handle tabloid reporters and crazy directors. You can handle high schoolers.” His voice deepened. “I have to talk to you.”
The horn honked again.
“No.”
“Please, we have to talk, and if you don’t get me into the dance, I bet someone else at your high school will.”
Ashley stepped in close and looked him in the eyes. She searched their blue-green depths for his intent, but she didn’t have to look hard. Working with him all last summer told her how much he liked to get his way. He’d do it. She said, “No scene at the dance. If you go, we call a truce, and we’ll talk after.”
Caz nodded and clasped her hand. She tried to jerk out of his grip, but he tightened his hold. She tried to keep her fingers from trembling at the sensation of holding his hand again. He followed her back out into the lighted darkness of suburbia. Two limos were parked in front of her house. That was a first. Caz gestured toward the one in front and released her. “Let me grab my jacket.”
Her fingers flexed at the loss of his, and she retreated to the second limo. Opening the door, she saw Marissa’s sparkling face. Marissa snapped her tube of plum lip gloss closed, shoved it into her bag, and held up her wrist. “Check out the corsage my date bought me. Eggplant ribbons to match my dress. He’s getting the biggest kiss ever for remembering that my favorite is an orchid.”
“Gorgeous.” Ashley held up hers. “Mom picked white roses.” The iridescent ribbons wound around the petals.
“Pretty.”
Ashley moved further into the car and took a seat, leaving the door open behind her. In a rushed voice she said, “Caz showed and called a temporary truce. I’m bringing him.”
Marissa’s jaw dropped, and she didn’t have time to close her mouth before Caz climbed in and took the seat next to Ashley, which was probably good, because it would have fallen open again when Caz grabbed Ashley’s hand then smiled his movie star smile. “Hi, I’m Caz.”
Marissa’s mouth snapped closed and she said nothing.
Ashley totally got it. Caz was stunning in person. She hadn’t let that faze her this summer, because once he became a real person to her, she just saw him as Caz, not as a famous star. Seeing him after all this time let her see him objectively. He’d put on a dark jacket. There were no other words—Caz was movie star handsome.
The limo moved forward.
Caz said, “Ashley shared one or two of your texts. They helped us get through some crazy long shoots. Did you really wear a fry costume?”
Marissa sent Ashley a mild glare then laughed. “With crazy pride. So, uh, you’ve gone to many of these things?”
“I was tutored on set since the age of fourteen. I’ve never been to a proper high school dance.”
Marissa said, “Well, it’ll be normal until they realize who you are.”
Tensing, Ashley turned to warn Caz, “Everyone will have a cell phone.”
Caz shrugged. “Probably.”
Ashley looked down for a second, then held his gaze. “Okay. I want you to go with me.”
***
They got out at Michelle’s and her mom took photos. Together they were a group of twelve. Caz stayed in the back with her, and everyone, so absorbed in the photos, their dates, and their parents, accepted him as her date, Caz.
The twelve of them crushed into the limo built to hold ten, and Caz pulled Ashley onto his lap. She slid her arm around his neck and whispered in his ear, “You’re good at the truce. Are you acting?”
Caz slid a hand to her face and put his lips to her ear to whisper, “No, this will be fun. Your friends are cool.”
“They are.”
He said, “If I wasn’t nice, you’d probably kick me out and make me get into my own car.”
“I would.”
Steve pulled out a bottle of champagne. How had he hidden that from Michelle’s parents?
Michelle lined up champagne flutes, Steve laced them with champagne, and Marissa topped them off with orange juice, describing the way to get perfect fresh-squeezed, and passed the glasses out.
Steve saluted their school mascot. “To the Dragons.”
“Cheers.”
That was when Michelle recognized Caz. She choked and stared. To Michelle’s credit, she said nothing but sent a frantic look at Marissa, who nodded.
The limo jolted over another speed bump, sliding Ashley closer to Caz’s chest. They were nearing the school, and it was hard to stay upright, so she relaxed against him.
Caz whispered in her ear, “Orange juice and limos.”
***
Caz held her hand, and they walked up the front sidewalk surrounded by her friends, a loud, laughing group. At the entrance to the school commons, a photographer took their picture under a red balloon arch, but after that flash, they entered the gym, where the only light was provided by tiny white bulbs that twinkled.
Her friends grabbed a table in the corner, by the back wall. Ashley worried Caz would bring up their argument, but he didn’t. He seemed to want to hang out. He danced, laughed, and drank the watery strawberry punch like everyone else. The evening was exhilarating, made all the better by the fact that it was too dark for anyone to recognize him. Her friends, who had by now figured out who he was, were cool enough to be quiet about his identity.
When the principal announced the King and Queen, and the cute couple took the floor, a spotlight lit up their dance and the strains of the “Love’s Romantic Ruin” ballad emerged from the speakers. Ashley sucked in a breath and stiffened. She knew the song would play tonight, it was too popular not to, but the music sounded bittersweet. Her gaze swung to Caz.
Caz stood with a quirked eyebrow and tilted chin. His hand raised, palm up. “That’s oursong.” He led her to the dance floor in one of those rare perfect moments.
Head up, eyes glistening, she let him pull her into two-step position. Caz smiled wickedly then put her hand around his neck so his could slide around her waist.
Her right hand touched the back of his silky hair, and she toyed with the strands, while her left squeezed his hand. He’d disobeyed her about making a scene, but in the sweetest way possible. She closed her eyes, embracing the exquisite moment.
The Queen said, “Ashley, what are you doing?”
Caz stared at the Queen until her mouth fell open and she stopped dancing. Her partner bumped into her, and he stared at Ashley, then at Caz, then back.
The flash of a cell phone lit the dance floor. A second joined the first. A whisper reached them. More cameras flashed and the whispers got louder. That was when Ashley knew the dance had to end. She closed her eyes for a moment, leaning against his chest, wanting just one more perfect second.
Then as the song transitioned, she took his hand and said, “Run.”
***
Once they settled inside the limo, Ashley tensed, and her stomach knotted. The end of the dance equaled the end of the truce. She looked out the window, upset at what was about to happen.
Caz turned her toward him. “About the —”
“Wait,” Ashley said. “I want one more minute.” She slipped onto his lap and put her arms around his neck. Leaning forward, she gave him a soft, sweet kiss. His mouth felt familiar, warm. Caz tasted like strawberry punch and the best parts of summer. Ashley said, “Thanks for the dance.”
Caz wrapped an arm around her knees before she slipped away and he leaned into her. His right hand slid behind her head and his lips moved against hers, firm and intent.
She parted her mouth. Heaven. Rubbing his back, she resented the material that kept him from her and pushed closer.
He released her mouth to draw in a shaky breath. Her brain began functioning again, and she pulled away and brushed a hand over hair. “I —” Ashley shook her head, not really knowing what to say. Caz muttered something in French and she leaned in eagerly, hoping her additional semester of the language would help her understand him, but he didn’t repeat the words.
The limo slowed in front of her house, and a flash lit the evening. The flash came from her driveway, from the large number of paparazzi standing in her yard.
Caz’s face stilled and she scooted away. His expression said truce over.
Ashley looked out the tinted window, relieved the strangers couldn’t see in. She’d longed to see Caz, but it had been five months, and he hadn’t called once. It was so easy for him to have a fight with her and write her off, ignoring her attempts to explain like they didn’t matter, like she was a liar. He’d returned for one reason: her sketchpad.
As if reading her thoughts, Caz said, “Your drawings are beautiful.”
Ashley crossed her arms over her chest and felt her face flush.
“Really. The art director gave me the book. He said to tell you they were good. Your sketches are amazing.”
Ashley whispered, “You believe me now?”
“I believe you weren’t writing secret notes about the cast and the set, yeah.”
Her shoulders eased until more flashes came from the driveway. “And the press showing up everywhere? The pills?”
Caz shoved a hand through his hair. “You were my assistant, the only one who knew where we were going to be sometimes when the photographers showed up.”
Her spine stiffened, and she looked at him. “That’s not quite true. You knew. Maybe you wanted more media coverage.” She dropped her arms and scooted forward.
Caz rolled his eyes. “That’s ridiculous. Look, if your dad or the studio asked you to tip someone off, tell me. Just admit it.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“I found the pills in your purse.”
“Then someone put them there.”
His whole body looked tense, as if he was fighting with himself.
“Caz, there’s never going to be perfect black and white evidence or even perfect people. People screw up, but I’m telling you, I didn’t do any of those things, and you have to decide right now. Either you believe me or you don’t.”
He stared.
“Come on, I know you’ve got some instincts left, dig deep. Do you believe me?”
“Yes.”
Ashley sagged against the seat, not knowing why his trust mattered so much, but it did. She nodded then took hold of both of his hands and squeezed his fingers. “Good.” She paused a moment, and then said, “Now, I’m ready for your apology.”
“I want you to go out with me.”
She shook her head and drew back. “That’s not an apology.”
“Ashley.”
The fact that he couldn’t find it in himself to apologize or even seem to recognize what he’d put her through was enough to convince Ashley that they couldn’t be together. She reached for the door handle, trying to speak despite the lump in her throat. “No, trust me on this. We wouldn’t work.” She slipped from the car and ran through the flashing lights of the paparazzi into the house.
***
In the upcoming week, Ashley saw Caz on daytime and late night talk shows. If she missed one, her fellow students were quick to mention the interviews and ask about him. All she would say was that she and Caz had become friends over the summer when she’d been assigned as his gofer, which sounded a lot less important than working as his personal assistant.
“Simply say you went out and broke up, no story,” Marissa said.
Ashley shook her head. “Someone would put it on Facebook or Twitter.” She was determined to salvage her privacy, plus she didn’t want to look back. She wanted to move on.
Chapter 26
Ashley tugged her bag off the carousel at LAX, careful not to let the garment bag she’d carried on hit the linoleum. It held the three designer dresses Dad had sent, and she wanted to send pictures to Powder so she’d wear the right one to the movie premiere.
“Hey, kiddo,” Dad said.
She turned in surprise, and found Dad standing behind her with pink roses in his hand. He held an arm out for a hug.
***
Ashley could not contain her excitement as her dad escorted her down the red carpet on premiere night of Eternal Loss,
Eternal Revenge. They showed their credentials to security and were shown inside the roped-off area that led into the theater.
Dad eyed some other suit-wearers. “I see Russ. I need to talk to him for a second. Want to join me so I can show off my gorgeous daughter?”
Ashley froze. Russ. That was the director. She’d never told Dad about getting fired, and in the back of her mind, she had a real fear that she’d be escorted away from the premiere as soon as an executive spotted her. She turned, keeping her back to the director, and said, “No, thanks. I’ll see you inside.” Ashley tried to keep the squeak from her voice.
“Have fun.” Dad patted her shoulder and headed toward the men.
Ashley swallowed and moved further in. The electric crowd of screaming fans with their flashing cameras was contained by ropes and strategically placed security guards. Ashley snapped their photo from this side of the ropes and forwarded the picture to Mom and Marissa.
A ton of movie stars not attached to the film came to the premiere. While it was fun to see them, Ashley wasn’t starstruck. She’d really met too many actors growing up who’d come and gone in popularity to feel awe.
“Ashley!”
Ashley turned at the sound of her name and saw Powder, standing with her arms out for a hug. Powder looked rock-star in a black and silver gown. Her hair had grown several inches but was still spiked out. Ashley hugged her, and her own dress—white and filmy—swirled around them with the motion and the faint California breeze. “Thanks for helping me choose a dress.”
Powder said, “Your dad knows some killer designers. And you look perfect, very springtime.”
“You look so cool.” Ashley admired Powder’s style. She’d never be able to carry off metal studs.
Powder smiled her thanks then eyed the growing crowd of arriving stars. “I can’t leave Jason or some starlet will make a play at him. Find me later, okay?”
Ashley nodded. On her way up the carpet, she ran into several other people she’d worked with, and they chatted about the crowd and expectations for the film. If they knew she’d gotten fired, no one brought it up, so Ashley relaxed and began to enjoy herself more. No doubt her minor set drama was nothing compared to what they saw every day at work. And Powder had said it had been glossed over.
Ashley knew more people than she thought she would and welcomed seeing most of them. Boomer’s sheer size made him easy to spot, but she almost didn’t recognize him in sleeves. Ashley hugged him and complimented his suit. “Powder told me you got a part in Petra’s next film.”
Boomer looked down and she’d have sworn he blushed. “They came to sign her, and I was doing some sound work nearby. They thought I’d be good for a small part.”
“You’ll be great.”
Boomer grinned and cocked his head, back to his normal, confident self. “That’s because I’ll be traveling with the side arms.” He curled his biceps for her. “Loaded with bullets.”
“Okay, yeah, see ya later.” Ashley patted him on his impressive bicep, and moved a few steps down the red carpet. Halfway down, she ran into the director.
She stopped and her face flushed. They last time they’d been face-to-face, he’d fired her from the film.
Nothing showed on his face but welcome. He pulled away from the couple he was speaking with and leaned down to hug her. “Hi. What do you think of all this?”
Ashley breathed out a sigh of relief. Good. No trouble. She said truthfully, “It’s exciting.”
“A lot of what you did really worked and we used it.”
“Cool.”
“See you inside.”
Ashley took that as her cue to leave. She walked along toward the building, glad they’d come early so she had a chance to catch up with people. This was turning out okay.
Up ahead stood Cutter, hair coiffed in a perfect swoop, wearing a shiny purple suit with trousers cuffed high over brown loafers. Cutter reached out a hand and grabbed her arm. His eyes looked glittery and they shifted around the crowd. He leaned close, and his voice sounded thin, strained. “He’s here, have you seen him?”
Her heart thumped. “Who?”
Cutter’s hand tightened until it hurt against her arm, and his face flushed. “Harlon Ramonannini.”
Ashley shook loose. “No.”
“Yes!” Cutter moaned. “He’s going to see. He’s going to know I recut his wedding dress.” Cutter crossed his arms over his chest.
Ah. Ashley realized the reason for Cutter’s panic—the bridal gown flounce alteration. “You made the dress drape better.” She gentled her tone to reassure him.
Desperation flashed in his eyes, and Cutter’s voice took on a hysterical edge. “You know nothing,” he said and dashed away.
If the yells of the fans were any indication, more stars had arrived. Things were heating up on the red carpet, so she knew it was time to make her way inside. She wanted to see Caz more than anything, but she also didn’t want to see him. Maybe she’d catch him inside, and they could share a quiet, civil moment away from the commotion. Dad said that the movie premiere’s auditorium sat about a thousand people. In that large a crowd, she may not even see the back of his head. Had Caz brought a date? Would he—?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a hand on her arm and a heavy accent. “Score.”
“Excuse me?” Ashley pulled free of Garrett’s hold.
“I told Caz I’d find you.” Garrett tilted his head at a confident angle. His shorter hair stopped inches from the collar of his tuxedo jacket. Under it, he wore an off-white shirt untucked over his blue kilt. “He’s looking all over the place for you.”
“You’re talking to Caz?”
Garrett grinned big. “Yeah, we’re great mates again.” He threw an arm around her shoulders, keeping her in place, close enough that the wool fabric of his kilt brushed her fingers. “Caz called in his marker and I’m about to deliver.” Using the pressure of his big arm against her shoulders, Garrett turned her back into the crowd.
They made up? Good. Ashley tried to duck under his heavy arm. “I’m just going inside.”
His arm didn’t move. “Nope, I owe him, and there he is.” Garrett pointed with his free hand. Looking over, Ashley saw a dark-suited Caz shaking hands and signing autographs with the fans behind the rope. He looked wonderful, his hair slightly longer, streaked. A security guard with an earpiece flanked him, and his thin agent, dressed in a dark pantsuit, trailed close by.
Garrett forced her straight toward Caz with no intention of stopping. “Come on, then, before he goes mental.”
Ashley stumbled in her tall, strappy heels. “Slow down. He’s working, we can’t—”
Garrett lowered his arm to her waist, ignored her protests, and propelled her forward until she stood within a foot of Caz.
Shouts of “Caspian” came from the crowd. It was deafening, like the day they first met, but even louder.
“Here she is, mate.” Garrett clamped a hand on Caz’s shoulder. His arm dropped from her waist. Caz turned at the touch and he faced her. His blue-green eyes searched hers.
Garrett said, “I’ll leave you to it, then. I want to do my duty and get inside before all the finger foods disappear. I hear they have puff pastries with crab and capers.” He swaggered to the roped-off fans.
The lights hit her eyes and she blinked against the white spots. She dug in her purse for her sunglasses and shoved them on. The camera flashes intensified now that she was this close to Caz. This was too much. It was time to head for the entrance.
Caz stepped close and grabbed her hand. The crowd continued its chanting roar. “Caspian!”
Ashley quickly pulled free of his grip.
“Wait.”
Ashley couldn’t really hear the word but she read it on his lips. “Inside,” she said. “I’ll see you inside.”
His agent gestured toward a dais set up for interviews.
Caz shook his head at her. “Just a minute.”
Ashley looked over her shoulder toward the premiere entrance.
Caz put his mouth against her ear and kind of yelled, “Please wait. I’m talking to Garrett, did you see?”
Be gracious and distant, she told herself. Stay out of his personal life. She’d practiced the words at home and on the plane a number of times. She was going to say that he looked great and wish him luck on the film. Putting her mouth to his ear, Ashley said instead, “I’m glad.” She breathed in the fragrance of his ocean shower gel, and calmed. “No, sorry, um, I meant good luck on the film. It’s good to see you again. I’ll catch you later.”
His agent moved in. “You’re scheduled to—”
“A minute,” Caz said urgently.
His agent touched Caz’s elbow. “She can stay with us, but we have to move forward.”
Caz shook his head and folded his arm, staying put.
His agent turned to Ashley. “Nice to see you again, Ashley, but you’re causing a delay.” Her tone didn’t sound like it was nice to see her again.
Familiar with Caz’s stubborn streak, Ashley said, “Sure, which way?” She nodded toward the agent, indicating she should lead.
Caz clenched his hands and followed them. Two paces in, he unclenched one and reached for her hand. Ashley stayed out of his reach. He moved closer until they reached the steps that led up to a platform.
Petra stood on top, being interviewed. She wore a fuchsia-colored dress, and a matching, jeweled hairclip that held back half of her dark hair. Swiveling her hips, she swept her train into one hand and held the skirts toward the reporter. If looks were anything to go by, the interviewer was getting a rundown about each thread.
An assistant wearing an earpiece held up a hand in Caz’s direction.
“Promise me you’ll wait,” Caz said.
Ashley looked around. A lot of people were headed for the auditorium. “Um.”
“You have to promise me, or I walk out, and leave with you now.”
Sometimes he could be very British and understated. That was how he gave the illusion that he was normal—not tonight though. He’d had weeks to call her, and he wanted to talk while they were on the red carpet with a million eyes and cameras on them.
“Promise me,” Caz said.
“I promise.”
Caz lifted her sunglasses to look in her eyes.
“I promise. Go.”
Caz put a warm hand to the side of her face and whispered in her ear. “I hoped you’d be here.”
“They’re ready for you, Mr. Thaymore.”
Caz’s hand slowly fell from Ashley’s cheek and he jogged up the steps to join Petra and the interviewer. Petra hooked her arm through his.
The crowd chanted, “CasPet, CasPet.” Petra waved to the crowd.
Caz didn’t turn. He faced the reporter and spoke into a microphone, and it was only a few minutes before he jogged back down to her. Petra remained on the platform, still talking.
Caz took her hand in his. “Okay, then, let’s get inside.”
Ashley tugged against his hold, but he wouldn’t release her. The more the cameras flashed, the more she pulled, a smile pasted on her lips to keep up impressions. Realizing he wasn’t going to let go, Ashley stopped the struggle and said through her smile, “What are you doing?” She hoped he could hear her over the crowd.
Caz leaned closer. “I can demonstrate better if you want.” He tilted his head.
Her heart thumped and Ashley jerked quickly back. “No. Inside.”
Someone pushed in from behind her, propelling her into Caz’s hard body. Caz stopped her fall.
“Excuse me.” The redheaded Lorene pushed past them dressed in a green hoop-skirted dress, à la Scarlett O’Hara, and climbed the steps. When she reached the top, she put her hands on her hips.
Petra finished answering her interview question before facing Lorene.
Lorene shouted, “You stole my part.” The words were loud enough that anyone below the dais could hear.
Petra touched her fingertips to her chest, in a who megesture. Lorene narrowed in.
The security guard left Caz’s side and took the steps two at a time. Lorene pushed Petra. Petra hit the rail and the metal framework shook. After pausing in a carefully draped pose, Petra lunged forward and shoved back. The camera moved in for a close-up.
Lorene said, “The bikini ski instructor gig was mine.”
Petra formed her hands around imaginary skis and pushed off. Lorene screamed. The suited security guard grabbed her and dragged her wriggling, protesting body out of view.
Petra put a limp hand on her forehead and glided back to the interviewer, leaning into the microphone.
Caz’s agent rushed forward. “Go up there. See if Petra’s okay.”
“She’s fine,” Caz said.
“You’re co-stars. Go.” His agent took out a cigarette.
Caz shook his head.
“You owe it to the film.”
Caz stiffened and his fingers tightened against Ashley’s fingers. “The film is complete. The interviews are complete. My owing them anything is over.”
The agent dug for her lighter. She didn’t light the cigarette, but she tapped the end against the top of the lighter. “Ashley, you don’t mind waiting, do you? I need to speak to Caspian about this opportunity.”
“I—” Ashley didn’t get to finish her sentence before Caz got between her and the agent.
“You’re fired.”
His agent narrowed her eyes and lit her cigarette, but she didn’t say anything, just sucked in a deep draw of the cigarette and exhaled the acrid smoke.
Caz said nothing more; he turned to the entrance of the theater, leading Ashley by the hand. Numerous people tried to stop him for a chat, but Caz made them walk and talk because he didn’t pause for anyone. Inside, the lobby was almost as loud, with everyone excited to see the film.
Caz said, “When we were in the car, in front of your house in Houston, I knew.”
Ashley ignored him and said, “You just fired your agent.”
Caz rolled his shoulders. “Yeah.” His eyes looked out to the horizon before turning back to her. “I should have followed you into your house.”
A studio executive pushed his way between them to shake Caz’s hand. “Looking forward to the film.”
“Thanks,” Caz said, and the man moved on.
“What does that mean?” Ashley said.
The AD interrupted them next. He’d trimmed his goatee short and looked as tense as he’d looked on set. After shaking Caz’s hand, he offered a handshake to Ashley. She shook awkwardly with her left hand because Caz still refused to relinquish her right.
The AD said, “Evening. You two excited to see the final cut?”
“Absolutely,” Ashley said.
Caz gave a small nod.
“Great,” the AD said. “You’re going to love it.”
A woman wearing a suit joined them, saying something about high pre-sale ticket records. The greetings weren’t going to stop coming. The premiere was an impossible place for a private conversation.
Caz headed from the lobby to the entrance of the auditorium. “Caspian Thaymore, plus one,” he said to the usher. The theater was a large typical stadium-style movie theater. The air even had that faint, popcorn-lives-here smell. The bright wall sconces lit the darkness so people could find their seats. The usher led them to the middle section.
“Thanks,” Ashley told the usher.
“I went by your house earlier, hoping you’d be in town for the premiere, but you weren’t, and your dad wouldn’t give me any details.”
“He’s protective.” Ashley pulled at his hand.
“I missed you,” Caz said, keeping his voice low. “I know I screwed up.”
“I get it. I do,” Ashley said. “So many people used you all summer, in so many ways. That’s your life. How could you not, how could you—”
Caz cut her off with his kiss. It felt familiar, exciting. His kiss had the power to shut off her thoughts. Pulling back, he laid his free hand against her face. “I wanted to call for Christmas, but I didn’t, and things were crap at home. My dad came back, and he’s already left again.”
“Are you mad at him for leaving, or your mom for taking him back?”
“Both.”
Ashley swallowed. “Did you find out who did the press leaks?”
“Petra and my driver. My agent too.”
She gaped at him. “All of them?”
“It’s why it never made sense before, because it was all these random locations, and you were the only one who knew them all.”
Ashley looked away. “How do you stand Hollywood? How can you work with these people again?”
“Petra has her own agenda, but she’s not malicious.” His expression was hard. “I’m hiring my own driver and buying a car.”
“And the pills?”
“I don’t know who drugged my drink, but I know it wasn’t you.”
“It wasn’t.”
Looking into her eyes with a sincere expression, Caz said, “I know. I’m sorry I doubted you before.” He kissed her, a brief, quick kiss.
People filtered into the theater, many stopping to offer comments and congratulations to Caz. The noise level grew until the director moved to the floor in front of the screen. He leaned into the rail and spoke into a microphone. “Thank you all for coming. This project has been a labor of love for the cast and crew, without whom we wouldn’t be here tonight. So without further adieu, enjoy the film.”
The lights darkened and Ashley felt her lips smile. She squeezed Caz’s hand.
The movie came on.
OMG.
Halfway through the movie, Ashley dropped Caz’s hand and wrapped her arms around herself. The director had used all of her scenes, but he replayed the steamy bed scene the most. Throughout the film, images of her in bed with Caz flashed through the hero’s mind. The death scene repeated also, but the bed scene definitely made the most appearances.
Ashley rubbed a hand over her face, half covering her eyes.
Leaving the auditorium, in between chats with people stopping them, Caz said, “Why are you so upset?”
Ashley turned her face to him and whispered, “He shot when I didn’t even know he was rolling.”
“Well, that’s not a bad way to get a natural take.”
“And the bed. We’re rolling around on that bed. A really long time. He put that in the film.” She didn’t think her face could flush any deeper.
“You looked hot. You’re beautiful, Ashley.”
“My dad is in the audience.”Her voice raised on the last word.
Caz sucked in a breath. “Ah, maybe too hot then.”
Ashley turned her face into his arm with a groan. “Yes, definitely too hot.”
His hand rubbed her back. “It was a good film, though, right? I don’t always get to say that.”
She didn’t answer and didn’t explain the part that shocked her the most. The depth of the emotions she’d just seen on screen didn’t come from any hidden talent. She wasn’t an actor. As much as she lied to herself, she had just seen her feelings for him, right there, in high definition. Ashley Herrington was in love with Caspian Thaymore.
