Текст книги "Love Unscripted"

Автор книги: Tina Reber

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Текущая страница: 31 (всего у книги 40 страниц)

magazines wanted to get their hands on actual photos of our “love nest” as they put it. Now I was even more paranoid about having anyone in my

apartment.

Ryan called me every day while he was in Scotland, even if it was for only five minutes. He tried to describe the landscape and architecture so I

could visualize the experience he was having; he even sent me a few cell phone pictures, but I still wished I was there with him to experience it

firsthand.

It didn’t take long for pictures of the cast in Scotland to surface on the Internet. Ryan’s fan site was quite reliable with the latest selection of

candid photos. Tongues around the globe were sent wagging once the photos of Ryan and Suzanne’s “love scene” were leaked. Even Kat called

me to make sure I wasn’t going to go ballistic from seeing the scandalous photos.

For some reason the lies about Ryan and Suzanne’s rekindled romance didn’t bother me as much as it did when I first met him. I guess I knew

both of them well enough to know that Ryan didn’t have any romantic feelings for her despite how often his lips had to touch hers. I knew Ryan

harbored deep resentment for Suzanne and her antics. She had wronged him too many times in the past for him to ever let go of his grudge, let

alone ever love her.

I did however worry about Suzanne. Many of the little stunts she pulled all pointed to her being madly in love with him. I was onto her little game;

after all I too was once young and foolish. She didn’t try to break us up for Francesca’s benefit – I was wrong with that assumption. Her comments

and evil tongue only had one beneficiary. She had made additional comments after her little failed tryst with Ryan’s friend Scott, indicating that she

had hoped that if his friends thought she was good enough to sleep with that maybe he might feel the same way. Unfortunately, her actions had the

opposite affect on Ryan.

The media sure had fun with all these rumors and lies. According to the reports, Ryan was back with Suzanne, Suzanne reportedly told me to

stay away from her man, our relationship was over, and I was having a secret affair with my former bodyguard behind Ryan’s back. It was beyond

ridiculous.

“You feeling up to getting out of the house today?” Marie asked, interrupting my private viewing of several old Ryan Christensen interviews on

the computer. I clicked the video pause button and gave her a bit more of my attention. I’d been holed up in my apartment for an entire week.

“Tammy wants to take us to lunch. We have to stop at the jewelry store and then we need to go look at bridesmaid dresses,” she rambled

through the telephone.

I was feeling a lot better and getting out into the fresh air did sound appealing. I was also hoping to squash some of the new worries that

mysteriously cropped up in my brain.

Marie and Tammy had been acting, I don’t know – strange towards me for the last couple of days. I couldn’t pinpoint the specifics; I could just

sense it. Maybe it was the new way they both awkwardly smiled at me that caused me to feel weird?

I had been really ill and I was extremely thankful that my two best friends were there for me, but I couldn’t help but worry that they were getting

tired of me and my new life of drama.

“Tammy, your wedding band is beautiful!” I gushed, watching the diamonds sparkle in the light. She handed a check to the sales clerk.

“Thanks!” Tammy glowed. “Only six more payments and it’s mine.”

“Hey Taryn, come look at this one!” Marie called out. She was looking at emerald rings.

“How much is that ring right there?” Marie pointed to a very gaudy ring.

The lady took it out of the case and checked the tag. “This one is three thousand.”

My eyes bugged out. It was an ugly ring for three thousand dollars. Marie tried to put it on her finger, but it wouldn’t go past her knuckle without a

good shove.

“Here Tar, you have tiny fingers. Model it.”

I slipped it on my right hand and held it out to her. It was the kind of stacked setting that would take a layer of skin off someone if you brushed up

against them accidentally.

Marie played with the ring on my finger, checking the look of it from several angles. I was surprised that she even liked this style of jewelry.

She held my hand out to the sales clerk. “So, what do you think? Does it fit her?”

“She would need to be sized,” the lady answered, twisting it freely on my finger. “You could probably go down a half size smaller.”

I took it off immediately and handed it back to the clerk. I didn’t want anyone to think I was interested in buying this ugly ring.

“This ring is tiny. What size is it?” Marie placed it back on her finger.

“It’s a six,” the lady droned. “It’s the standard stock size.”

“There you go, Taryn. Your next job could be a hand model since all of these would fit you,” Marie teased.

I thought about modeling my middle finger for her.

“How small is her finger?” Marie asked.

The sales lady slid a few metal rings around my finger. “You would wear a five and a half.”

“Are both hands the same size? I heard one hand is always bigger,” Marie stated.

The lady measured my other hand. “They’re the same.”

“Try that one on.” Marie pointed to another ring. The sales lady handed me an opal and emerald disaster.

“You know you’ll have to start working your fingers out more if you’re going to be interviewing for all those hand jobs,” Tammy snorted at her own

joke.

“I’m sure Ryan would be happy to help there!” Marie laughed. “Come on, let’s get out of here and go try on some really ugly taffeta dresses now.

We got what we needed.”

“Speaking of dresses…” I muttered and opened my purse to retrieve my cell phone. There was another very important affair which required a

very special dress closer than Tammy’s wedding on my calendar.

“I can’t believe you have Kelly Ann Gael’s number and you can just call her to talk about dresses like it’s no big deal,” Marie teased. “Who else

do you have in there now? Drew? Gwyneth? Demi?” Marie grabbed for my phone just as her own phone started to ring.

“Hi… Cheryl,” Marie muttered awkwardly. “Hey, can I call you back? I’m out with my friends Taryn and Tammy right now.”

Marie groaned. “Okay, well… um, let me think. How about if I call you at five thirty? Five thirty,” she repeated.

“Gary’s sister,” Marie answered my questioning stare. “She’s being a real pain in the ass lately.”

Chapter 27 – Hollywood

It was still dark outside when Tammy drove me to the airport the following Tuesday morning. My flight out would put me on the West Coast at

one o’clock in the afternoon, leaving me plenty of time to be entertained by Kelly. Ryan told me to make sure I packed light, since it was a lot

warmer in Los Angeles, and to bring my new Shell-B Enterprises credit card as well to check into the hotel. Ryan wouldn’t be landing at LAX until

almost nine o’clock at night on his return from Scotland. It would take him three different flights to reach California.

The sun was bright when I walked through the terminal at LAX. I smiled to myself when I went almost unnoticed by the leeches with cameras. My

hunch was correct; there was paparazzi staked out at this airport twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. My reverie quickly faded when I

realized that Ryan would have a different fate when he landed tonight. He would be tired and annoyed by the unwanted attention from the paparazzi.

Surely they would not let him go unnoticed.

There were quite a few drivers waiting for arriving passengers near the exit. My eyes quickly scanned the names on the cards that each one of

them was holding but I did not see my name. I looked again. Surely I must have missed it the first time. I reread each card looking for Ryan’s name.

That’s when I saw “Bailey” written on a card. Underneath it was Shell-B Enterprises. A smile broke on my face when the driver asked if I was Mrs.

Bailey. Not yet, but maybe one day?

I definitely felt like an outsider in this foreign land called Los Angeles… palm trees and expensive cars were on every street. The hotel where we

would be staying was beyond anything I had ever experienced as well. It exuded wealth.

“Good afternoon. I’d like to check in please,” I said to the man behind the marble counter.

“Bailey?” I stated sheepishly, unsure if that was the name of the reservation or not. He typed into his computer.

“Card please,” he requested.

Familiar panic welled in my chest. I had no identification with Bailey on it. I handed him my driver’s license and wondered how long it would take

Kelly to drive here and rescue me when this guy kicks me out of the lobby for false impersonation.

He handed it back to me with a smile. “I need your credit card please, for verification,” he corrected.

The key card he handed me in return didn’t unlock just any old hotel room. That wouldn’t be Ryan’s style for treating me well. This room was a

huge suite dressed in shades of burgundy and cream with a rich mahogany wooden floor. Elegant wooden doors separated the grand living room

from the bedroom, and there were two separate sets of French doors that opened up to the private balcony. The suite even had its own dining

room.

I set my bag down on the billowy beige and burgundy striped duvet that covered the king-size canopy bed and sighed out loud. Mr. Christensen

would surely be treated like a king in this bed later.

I turned on the light in the bathroom and was surprised to see a plasma television mounted on the wall, in perfect view from the large soaking

tub. And then there it was – the final touch – the glass encased shower with the shower panel of many pleasures. I had to give him credit; he was a

simple man with simple needs, but when it came to providing luxury, he surely did it right.

Kelly picked me up at the hotel an hour later and proceeded to take me to the swankiest stores in L.A.

“Two things before we go in there,” Kelly announced, parking her car. “One, you’re going to go into sticker shock, so don’t look at the price tags,

and two, Ryan said you have a fifty grand credit limit on your card so we have to behave.”

“Fifty thousand?” I felt faint. I reached for the air conditioning dial in her car and turned it up. She laughed at me.

“There’s no way in hell I’m spending…” I had to swallow. My throat felt tight. “I don’t care how much money he has!”

“Relax!” she told me. “We won’t spend all of it.”

“I just need a dress for the party and something nice to wear for our dinner meeting with Mr. Follweiler. That’s it. I even brought my black heels

from home.”

She spent the next several hours dressing me like one of her daughter’s Barbie dolls.

“Kelly, four thousand dollars for two dresses?” I whispered nervously in her ear. Apparently these prices were no big deal to anyone living on

this side of the country.

“We’re going to take all of this,” Kelly informed the girl behind the counter. She had stacked up the jeans and tops and even the totally sexy

black leather ankle boots that I fell in love with. “Oh and the Dior handbag as well.” She piled that on top.

“Kelly!” I grit through my teeth. Everything that I said I loved was on the pile. The purse alone was over a thousand dollars.

“No!” I stated adamantly to the cashier. “Only the two dresses and these shoes. I don’t want to buy any of these other things.”

Kelly smiled and then whispered privately in my ear. “You are going to be photographed the entire week. You need to look the part. This isn’t

some wanna-be actor we’re talking about here. The public expects his girlfriend to be stylish and sexy.”

I turned around and spoke quietly. “I don’t care. I’m not spending his money on things that are unnecessary.” I pushed the extra items to the side.

“Can you give us a minute?” Kelly asked the cashier, pulling my arm for me to follow her. “Taryn, he told me to make sure you get whatever you

want.”

“All I want are these two dresses and the shoes,” I informed the cashier.

“Your total comes to four thousand seven hundred and ninety,” the cashier announced.

I swallowed hard as I handed her my Shell-B credit card.

It was almost eleven o’clock when Ryan finally came through the door of our suite. He barely stepped four feet inside when I wrapped my arms

around him. He dropped all his belongings on the floor and grabbed a hold of me. It felt like everything that had been wrong was put back to right

the moment his lips touched mine.

“Looks like you had fun yesterday,” Ryan said, nodding his chin at the garment bags hanging on the door. I couldn’t believe how much I missed

waking up in his arms.

“I wouldn’t necessarily call it fun,” I breathed out on his neck, hiding my eyes in his hair.

Ryan lifted up the bed sheet and looked down at our bodies.

“Okay, now I’m really worried! I have thoroughly checked, and I know you’re a girl. You have all the proper girl parts.” He ran his hand down over

my rear, causing me to fidget. “I thought all women love to shop. What’s going on?”

I turned away, reluctant to have another conversation about my aversion to spending his money. “I don’t know. I mean I had a lot of fun with Kelly.

It’s just, well I feel guilty.”

“Guilty? Why, did you rob the store?” His eyes pulled me back, forcing me to tell the truth.

“I just wanted to get a nice dress. I didn’t think it would cost so much. I’m only going to wear it for a few hours.”

“How much did you spend?” he asked, sounding reproachful.

I looked up at him with one guilty eye. “In total?” I swallowed hard. “Four thousand eight hundred? I got two dresses and new shoes to wear, one

for dinner tonight and another for the party Saturday.”

He shook his head and scowled at me. “What were you thinking?”

“I know. I told Kelly it was too much, but she told me that your girlfriend has to look stylish,” I confessed. “I should have tried to find something

more affordable back home, but it’s too late now. I’ll pay you back, I promise.”

“No. That’s okay. I guess I’ll have to do another movie or something. It’s either that or we’ll have to drag the mattress out into the front yard

again.” He sounded all disgruntled and then he rolled his body on top of mine.

“Tar, you’re going to have to get used to dressing up when I do public appearances, award shows, and premiers. You know that, right?”

I nodded.

“Dresses and stuff aren’t cheap. But if you feel that strongly about spending my money, you could always work off your debt,” he said slyly, softly

kissing my lips. “I must warn you though; I may ask you to do things that you might find disgusting and perverse.” His devilish grin made my heart

race.

“Nah, that’s okay. Let me get my purse and I’ll write you a check.” I teasingly tried to wiggle out from underneath him.

“I don’t take personal checks.” He pinned me with his long arms, pretending like he was going to take a big bite out of my exposed breast.

“Besides, I was hoping to subject you to fifty years of hard labor.”

“Does this mean we have to renegotiate our terms again?” I whined, locking my ankles together over his rear.

“Absolutely! Now roll over so I can change the fine print on our contract. I just have to get my eraser out down here,” he joked.

Our morning together passed by so quickly and now he was off again.

“I’ll see you around six,” Ryan said, kissing me goodbye in the privacy of our room. “Listen, just have fun and enjoy yourself this afternoon with

Kelly. And don’t ask how much, all right? Just put it on the card – my card, not your card,” he corrected. “After the screen tests I have to pick up my

new suits and then I’ll meet you here.”

I kissed him goodbye and frowned when he slipped from my hands.

Kelly saw to it that I had the works done at the spa that she took me to. I was scrubbed, massaged, and purified. I had never felt so relaxed in all

my life. My skin glowed. After the manicure and pedicure I had my hair cut and styled. I felt fabulous.

“Just so you know, when we get back to the room I’m tearing that dress off your body,” Ryan informed in the car on our way to the restaurant.

I rolled my eyes.

“I’m serious!” He took my hand and rubbed it down the front of his pants. “Feel that? That’s from just thinking about it!”

“You need to focus.” I nudged him. “Titles of Jonathan Follweiler films… go.”

He rambled three titles; I listed twelve more from memory.

“I printed out all his work,” I said, unfolding the papers I had in my purse.

“Let’s see, television credits… Director and Producer of City Pulse, Director of Original Stories of Trouble and 13 Lies – all of which are

current projects. He has never received an Academy Award, but he was nominated in 2004 for two – Best Picture and Best Directing for The

Wandering Road. Oh, and his film Safe Distance grossed 200 million.”

I flipped the paper to the next sheet. “Last project was the film Nefarious Hearts which premiered back in May.”

I proceeded to quiz Ryan all the way to the restaurant. Again the cameras clicked the minute we stepped out of the limo, but our bodyguard

moved us quickly into the building.

It was quite intimidating being the only female at a table of four very powerful men. I took the first seat next to Mr. Follweiler; he looked the least

intimidating and most friendly out of the selection.

Even though I received a warm welcome I couldn’t help but feel like they expected me to be a brainless bimbo; the stereotypical famous actor

girlfriend that was just arm-candy. Their conversations conveniently omitted me from participating, so I sat quietly and observed. I noticed that none

of them even bothered to ask for a response from me.

Ryan tried to be accommodating by smiling in my direction every once and a while, but he looked just as uncomfortable as I felt. I had a feeling

that this was going to happen, so I kept a few aces up my sleeve just in case.

Ryan’s agent, Aaron, was just what I expected; forceful, powerful, quite arrogant, and a know-it-all. He knew everyone in this town and was

definitely one of its strongest players. I sensed when he looked at Ryan that he saw nothing more than a juicy cash cow in front of him. Ryan was the

meat behind his creative manipulations. Ryan’s manager, David, on the other hand, spent a great deal of time adjusting his Rolex on his wrist and

checking out the short skirts and big breasts that passed by every twelve seconds.

I noticed a lull in the conversation and took advantage of it.

“Mr. Follweiler, I just want to congratulate you.” My words came out nervously as I spoke quietly to him. “I read that your film Nefarious Hearts

might get several Academy nods, including best picture. How very exciting!” I smiled politely.

“Thank you! I’m exceptionally proud of that film.” He adjusted his position to face me. “Did you have an opportunity to see it?” He raised an

eyebrow.

“Yes sir, I did! Although I must apologize that I was only able to see it once it was released on DVD. I’m sorry I didn’t contribute to your opening

numbers, but regardless I thought it was fabulous.”

He smiled at me and shifted his weight to lean in my direction, setting his glass of bourbon down to place an inquisitive finger near his mouth.

“So tell me dear, what was it about the film that you really liked?”

Ryan squirmed in his chair. I could feel his paranoia, but I was prepared with witty small talk. I sensed right away that this was his test; John was

calling me out to see if I had really seen the film or if I was lying through my teeth.

“I was very intrigued by the character development – how all the principal characters were introduced in flashbacks? That was very inventive. It

really captured my attention. I must admit that I was taken with the main character Giles right away. Oh, the feelings that he invoked in me! I didn’t

know if I wanted to love him or despise him!” I politely chuckled. “But in the end, of course, I couldn’t help but root for him! And that’s why your film

was recognized by the Academy. I thought Gerard did a phenomenal job in the role as well.”

Little did anyone at this table know, I had just watched the movie two weeks ago while I was still recovering from bronchitis and I had read

several published reviews to obtain the bullshit that just rolled out of my mouth. The movie actually confused the heck out of me at some points.

Jonathan nodded his head and smiled widely at me. We continued to have a discussion on the film’s cast, until his head and attention tilted in

Ryan’s direction. “And you, Ryan? Did you by chance get to see my last work?”

Ryan kicked me in the foot as he straightened up in his seat and adjusted his shirt collar. I looked over at Ryan lovingly, knowing full well he had

not seen the film nor prepared for this meeting. David looked away, pretending to be distracted.

“Ryan?” I beamed. “Would you mind if I told him the story?” I ran the tip of my finger down my nose then gently rubbed my painted fingernails

under my chin.

Ryan cleared his throat nervously and then acknowledged my secret gesture. “By all means.” He motioned with his hand for me to continue.

I looked back at Jonathan pretending to fondly remember my tall tale.

“It was just at the point when Grant admitted to Giles that he was a thief and an accidental murderer when Ryan and I had our first heated film

debate.” I smiled at Ryan. I could clearly see in the way he narrowed his eyes at me that he was dying to know where I was going with this.

“Ryan was of the opinion that Grant’s revelation would be deemed as the ultimate betrayal to his brother and that in the end brother would turn

on brother. But I disagreed. There was just something in the way Giles was so meticulous in his personal habits as a child that I just knew that the

two brothers would unite in the end.

“By the way, Mr. Christensen, I do believe you still owe me a bottle of wine for losing that bet!” I teased.

“I believe I owe you an entire vineyard by now, Sweetheart.” I felt Ryan’s hand slide onto mine.

“You must be very intuitive to have guessed the outcome. Bravo!” Jonathan complimented, pausing to take another sip of his bourbon. “So tell

me, what does your intuition tell you about Slipknot? Ryan told me you’ve been running lines with him so I assume you’ve read the script in its

entirety?”

I took a deep breath. “Yes sir… many times,” I whispered.

“Well then? What does your intuition tell you?”

“It has action and suspense along with a healthy dose of romance. Isn’t that a film trifecta?” I stated the obvious.

Jonathan shifted in his seat. “Do you feel the story is Oscar worthy?” he asked, eagerly awaiting my reply.

“She isn’t qualified to answer that question, John,” Aaron callously interrupted.

“He is right. I can’t answer that,” I admitted adamantly.

Jonathan raised a hand to stop us both. “My question has nothing to do with qualifications,” he dismissed. “I want to know your gut feeling.”

“John! Really! We know it’s going to be phenomenal!” David looked around at everyone, laughing confidently. “Why wouldn’t it get an Oscar

nomination. I mean…”

“Now David, let the lady speak!” Jonathan ordered. “Taryn? Please, go on.”

“Honestly? For best picture?” I hesitated and took a big gulp of wine from my glass. I could feel Aaron mentally yelling at me to shut up and

David appeared ready to vault over the table to cap my mouth, but I was asked a direct question.

I thought about all the research I did on the Oscars when I wondered what kind of role Ryan could play to garner a Best Actor in a Leading Role

nod and recalled that all best pictures seemed to have one thing in common.

“I don’t think so, sir. Will the film gross millions? Absolutely – especially with a strong lead actor like Ryan. And with your brilliance and vision it

will definitely be a hit. But I think the script as it stands is missing that epic overtone that is required of best picture awards. The story is compelling,

but the main character is a mystery solver – not a hero.”

Aaron tossed his fork onto his plate, noting his disapproval. I held my eyes closed for a few seconds and internally bashed myself for opening up

my big lipstick-covered mouth. Maybe arm-candy, dumb bimbo would have been a safer approach after all?

Jonathan leaned over and spoke directly to Ryan. “Where did you say you found this amazing woman again?”

“On the East Coast.” Ryan chuckled. “Why? You planning to steal her from me?”

“Perhaps, if you’re not careful! I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to have honest conversation with someone!” Jonathan smiled and patted my

hand. “That’s a quality that this business is seriously lacking.”

His warm eyes glinted at me. “Relax, my dear. I had the same exact feelings about the script. I’ve already discussed some re-writes.” Jonathan

continued, chuckling to himself. “Now onto the business at hand. Let’s discuss making a film.”

I slid back into my chair while my nerves twisted into knots. The urge to get on a plane and run for home was overwhelming.

Once the limo driver returned us to the private garage entrance to our hotel, Ryan and I practically ran from the elevator to our room. He pressed

me into the door and kissed me passionately, shutting the rest of the crazy world out behind us.

Just as Ryan had forewarned, he almost tore my dress off, struggling impatiently with the zipper. We aggressively removed each other’s

clothing, undressing right there in the entryway of our suite like some sex-starved, horny teenagers. Our bodies joined together, testing out the

sturdiness of the living room furniture, the coffee table, and even the polished mahogany dining table before twining into one on the freshly made

canopy bed.

The next morning we barely had time to swallow our room service breakfast before having to be on the move again. I thought we were going to

be able to spend some time together alone, but that was an unfulfilled wish.

Riding in the back seat of another chauffeured sedan, we passed the famous Hollywood sign on the hillside as we drove to the studio where

Ryan was to attend a magazine photo shoot.

David, Ryan’s manager, was forever twisting his expensive watch on his wrist. “Did you read those scripts that Aaron sent you?”

“Yeah, I did,” Ryan answered, scanning his cell phone messages again.

“Sacred Mountain, Ryan. That’s your next big hit.”

“I’m not interested in sci-fi right now, David. I told you that I want to pursue The Isletin Solution. You and Aaron are supposed to be working on

that.”David’s lips pursed. “I don’t know why you have that script stuck in your head. People are not going to line up at the theaters to see Ryan

Christensen playing some med student from the 1940’s who does medical trials on dogs.”

“It was the 1920’s – 1921 to be exact,” I interjected.

David shot me a dirty look. “What did you say?” he asked, annoyed by my interruption.

“It happened in 1921. You said the 1940s,” my subconscious big mouth replied.

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter,” he said tersely, quickly turning his attention back to Ryan. “You’ll be better off doing Sacred Mountain. You need

another project lined up, and this one is a big budget – big action with a big studio to back it – not to mention a big paycheck for you!”

Ryan looked over at me, trying to gauge my opinion before he gave his response. I scratched my chin repeatedly.

“A sci-fi film, David? Really?” Ryan’s nose wrinkled.

“Yes, Ryan. Really! You need to line up a project after the third Seaside and this one is it. I’m telling you – this one is all yours! Aaron and I

already spoke to Stevens at Universal. All you have to do is say yes and we can seal this deal. But the time is now, Ryan. He wants you to lock in,

so let’s lock it in!” David’s enthusiasm was apparent.

“I don’t know. I’ve read the script and the story is weak. I’d rather do films that are more meaningful and memorable – character driven. Are

people going to run to the theaters to see me frolic around with little gray aliens? I don’t think so. I’ll quit acting before I do shitty films. Besides,

Taryn read Isletin and she feels it would be a better role for me.”

I gasped from the surprise. Why did Ryan have to mention my name? He said it so nonchalantly and then simply returned to being distracted

with his phone. David instantly glared at me and I could feel his disdain. I wanted to defend myself but I kept my mouth shut instead this time. This

was between Ryan and his manager.

“Isletin is a sleeper,” David groaned. “It’s career suicide.” He made sure to look directly at me when he said that. “You need big action now. You

have to keep this energy rolling!”

“I’m already signed on for three films next year. Besides, I want to try and have a life somehow in between it all.” Ryan picked up my hand and

wove our fingers together. David’s disapproving eyes stealthily followed Ryan’s gesture.

“Ryan, let me give you some advice. You haven’t been in the business long enough to pass up opportunities like this. And forget about slowing

down. You slow down now and your career is over in this town. Sacred Mountain is a money project and the producer is even willing to wait until

you’re done shooting the third Seaside. You need to jump on this project and forget about the script that has no backing.”

Ryan took a deep breath; his indecision was starting to show. I squeezed his hand in mine to get his attention. When he glanced over at me I

rubbed my forehead and then scratched my chin. He would not make his mark as a serious dramatic actor with a storyline like Sacred Mountain. It

was beyond cheesy.

“Let me think about it,” Ryan replied. “I want to talk it over with Taryn.”

Marla, his Publicist, was already at the studio waiting when we arrived. Ryan was scheduled to give a brief interview after the photo shoot; Marla

was there to mind his tongue and make sure his image was captured correctly.

I was under the impression that this shoot was just a magazine spread and an interview of Ryan, however that assumption was quickly bashed

when I saw Suzanne in the makeup chair. For the next seven hours I watched Ryan and Suzanne make numerous wardrobe changes as they posed

together over and over again.

Suzanne, of course, played up her most fortunate position. She was relishing in the fact that it was she in these photos with Ryan and not me. In