Escorting the Actress (The Escort Collection Book 2) (7 page)

"You can make this okay," he said. "No matter what you feel. Just give 'em a show. You can do it. I've seen all your movies. You're a star for a reason."

I looked at him for a second then quickly brought my eyes back to the road. "You've seen all my movies?"

I didn't understand why, but my face flamed at the thought. I knew people saw my movies. I just didn't know
Kyle
had seen my movies. All of them. That fact unnerved me more than I cared to admit.

I'd taken off my top in one of those movies. You couldn't see anything, but I'd still taken it off. So he'd seen my shoulders. Naked.

"Of course I saw them all," he said, his voice casual. "When you have a famous relative, it's totally okay to stalk their movies. Plus, I liked them. Most of them, anyway."

"Oh, I didn't know."

"
The Family Pride
was my favorite," he said and grinned at me.

I cringed.
The Family Pride
was the movie where I'd played the misunderstood nerd who later became a famous actress. It was also the movie featuring my naked shoulders.

"It seemed so… natural, that role. Like it was written for you. I especially liked the part when you took your shirt off. It was very cinematic."

"Ha ha, Kyle." I tried to focus on driving. "That movie was hard for me. Obviously it hit close to home."

I'd played the main character, who was seriously dorky in high school and decided that the only way she could escape her controlling mother was to become successful in her own right. Meredith Striper, a famous actress, had played my mother in the movie; my own mother hadn't been impressed.

"What did Caroline have to say about that one?" Kyle asked.

"She didn't care for it," I admitted.

Kyle snorted. "Oh, I bet she didn't."

"Not for the reasons you might think," I said, inwardly cringing. "She didn't actually
understand
the movie. She thought it was too slow. And she thought Meredith Striper was too old to play my mother."

Kyle practically spit out his coffee. "That's all she had to say about it?"

Now it was my turn to grin. "She also said my hair looked bad."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Kyle said. "Except I know you're not."

"No, I'm not," I said. Suddenly we were both laughing.

"Between your mom and my dad, really, it's no wonder that we ended up in this car together." Kyle was laughing so hard he was snorting. "They put the 'fun' in dysfunction."

"Right? It's so messed up, but it makes perfect sense. I mean, it would make perfect sense to our therapists. I almost think they deserve each other—Caroline and Pierce."

Kyle raised his eyebrow and looked at me. "They just might."

"I wouldn't wish Caroline on anybody though. Maybe not even your dad. You thought she was bad before? Now she's bad and gluten-free, wearing sanctimonious organic cotton yoga pants." It was my turn to snort. "You don't know what bad is."

"I think I have a pretty good idea," Kyle said, sounding as if he meant it.

W
e pulled
into the studio lot, and Lowell got out of the car. Even though she'd been laughing only moments earlier, she now looked pale underneath her makeup.

"You okay?" I asked.

She shrugged. "It's not like I can do anything about it if I'm not."

"Well, while I'm here," I said, throwing my arm around her shoulders, "you can lean on me. You should get your money's worth."

"You really need to think about a career in PR," she mumbled. "I know people. Hell, the way you're doing with the press,
you
know people."

An earnest young woman wearing a headset over her frizzy hair bustled toward us, clutching a clipboard. She nearly fell over when she saw me with Lo. "G-g-good morning, Ms. Barton." She tore her eyes away from me to Lowell.

Lo's face softened. "Ellie, for the millionth time, call me Lo. And this is… this is my boyfriend, Kyle."

Ellie tried to smile at me and failed. She just nodded and tapped her pencil. She seemed as though she'd had about ten cups of coffee already. "They're waiting for you."

"Oh, I'm sure they are," Lo said, sounding braver than she probably felt. "Ellie, will you take Kyle to my trailer?"

"Of course." The girl's face was ashen. "But they called a big meeting, and they've already been in there for an hour—"

"Don't worry about it," Lo interrupted. "I can handle Lucas and the rest of them. It'll be okay. Go get a doughnut from craft services. And an orange juice. You look like you're going to pass out."

I leaned toward Lowell and whispered, "Good luck. Go get 'em."

She nodded and pulled her sunglasses down enough so that I could see her eyes, which looked resigned. "Be good. Don't make Ellie work too hard. She's got me for that."

She walked off, and I mentally crossed my fingers for her. I also watched her fine ass and cursed the stupid director for ever telling her it was too big. Stupid git.

I turned to find Ellie watching me, a frown wrinkling her brow.

"She's my girlfriend, not that it's any of your business. And a doughnut would be lovely." I used the same tone that I used to use on the staff when they caught me doing something ill-advised and/or illegal.

"Of course," Ellie said but didn't move. She looked forlornly at the building where Lo was heading. "They're
all
waiting for her. Even one of the producers who hasn't been on set before." She sounded as if she thought Lo were walking the plank and a bunch of crocodiles were waiting in the water below.

"She's a big girl," I said, even though I felt a small spark of anxiety on Lo's behalf. "She can handle them."

Ellie nodded, looking as if she might cry.

"Right. Come on." I nudged her shoulder. "Let me buy you a doughnut."

"They're free," she said, as if it were her sworn duty to tell the truth and always tell the truth.

I could see why Lo got along with her.

We headed to craft services, and I was waited on by a striking woman with long brown hair.

"Would you like some help?" she asked, leaning over just enough so I could look down her shirt.

"No, thanks," I said reflexively, not looking up at her—or down her shirt.

"I saw you on
XYZ
last night. I
loved
your shirt."

I wasn't looking at her face, but I was pretty sure she was batting her eyes at me. I finally looked up—all the way up, totally skipping her chest. "My girlfriend picked it out. She has excellent taste."

"I'll say," the girl said, tossing her hair and flashing her blinding teeth at me.

I nodded tightly and retreated with my doughnut. I knew Ellie was watching me, but that wasn't why I was behaving. I was tired of feeling like a piece of meat. Being with Lo had been a huge relief for me. I didn't even realize how meaty I'd been feeling until I was with someone who was an apparent vegetarian.

I finally felt as though I could breathe. But that would come to an end as soon as I got inside Lo's trailer—I had to call my father. I felt a pit form in my stomach.

I handed Ellie her doughnut. "Eat it," I said, my tone a warning. "Lo wanted you to."

She chewed on it listlessly as she took me to the trailer. "I hope she doesn't get fired."

"I hope they don't tell her to go on another freaking diet," I said.

Ellie stuffed another bite of doughnut into her mouth and talked through it. "It's ridiculous. She's the most beautiful person I've ever met. Inside and out."

"Aww, Ellie, that's sweet. No wonder why she says the nicest things about you."

"She does?" Ellie asked, hopeful and eager.

"Of course she does," I said, even though Lo had said nothing about her on-set assistant.

"This is hers." She motioned to the trailer. "It was nice to meet you, Kyle. I thought you wouldn't be nice, but you are."

"Why'd you think that?" I asked, baffled.

"I saw you on
XYZ
last night too. I thought you were too handsome to be nice."

"You've already been in the business too long," I called.

She hustled off, dusting the doughnut crumbs from her blouse before she put her headset back on. "I'm aware of that."

I went into the trailer and collapsed on the couch, grateful for the privacy and quiet. Lo's trailer was simple and spare, with nothing on the table but a bunch of tulips and only bottled water in the mini-fridge. I ate my second doughnut, wondering how Lowell was faring with the crocodiles who paid her millions of dollars then asked her to spend none of that money on food so that she could starve herself.

I felt a headache coming on, and I knew why. Thinking about Lowell wasn't going to make the why go away.

I had to call my father, and it was the last thing I wanted to do.

I finished chewing my doughnut and, desperately wishing it was a beer instead, picked up my phone.

"
Y
ou have got
to be fucking kidding me," he thundered as soon as his secretary got him on the line. "Lowell-fucking-
Barton
?"

"It's not what you think," I said.
It's worse.

"When I cut you off from your trust, I was hoping you would start making better decisions. I didn't think you were going to make an even bigger ass out of yourself. Honestly, I didn't think that was possible."

"Gee, thanks, Dad." I got up and paced the trailer. "I forgot how belittling you are, but this is bringing it all back. Every little belittle."

"You need to grow up, Kyle." Pierce blew out a disgusted, angry huff. I could just picture his square face ruddy with frustration.

I wasn't sure exactly when it was that I'd changed from his promising only son to the bane of his existence, but it
might
have been when I crashed his brand-new Lexus SUV into a ditch when I was drunk. And then got arrested for it. And then tried to lie to him about it.

It didn't help that after he'd paid for my legal defense and somehow gotten me acquitted—even though I was clearly guilty—I continued to spend more of his money. I continued to drink and party and surf. Bottle service was a nightly event for me. I continued to refuse to get a job, even though he graciously offered me a job after all of the stupid and dangerous things I'd done.

It might have been somewhere around that time that his feelings changed. That he finally gave up.

"Dad, you need to listen to me—"

"I don't have time to discuss your feelings," Pierce said. "I don't care. I called because you can't
date
your stepsister. That's a new low, Kyle, and I know you're just doing it to get back at me. You know what her mother did to me."

"Actually, I'm not doing it to get back at you. Not at all. Although if it bothers you, I suppose that's a bonus."

"I don't know what I've done to make you hate me," he said, seemingly out of the blue.

I recoiled. I didn't hate my father. I was a little afraid of him and I was pissed at him for cutting me off, but I didn't
hate
him. "I don't hate you. I'm not thrilled that you took away all my money, but I don't hate you. My thing with Lowell isn't about you."

He didn't answer for a second. "You can't tell me you have feelings for this girl. You two couldn't stand each other growing up."

"She's nice now," I said. "And really pretty, in case you hadn't noticed. But it's actually a little more complicated than that."

Pierce sighed in what sounded like defeat. "What the hell does that mean?"

"You don't want to know." Suddenly my headache subsided. Because for the first time in a long time, I was telling my father the truth.

"Well, I'll make it simple," he snapped. "You break up with this girl, or I'll leak it to the press that you two are related. We'll see how you both like
that
. We'll see what happens to her little acting career then."

Anger flared within me. Pierce was demanding, difficult, and used to getting his way—but he wasn't going to run this show. I wouldn't let him.

"You might not want to do that," I said, my tone a warning. "There's actually more to the story, and you're not going to want anyone to know it."

M
y stomach was pitted
with dread as I headed into the meeting. Cristina, Lucas's habitually unfriendly assistant, was waiting outside the conference room. She crossed her arms in disapproval when she saw me.

"Hey there," she said, as if I'd come all the way from Echo Park just to ruin her day. "They're waiting for you. They're totally pissed about what you did, obviously."

"Obviously," I said.

"Good luck," she said sourly.

"Gee… thanks."

My palms were slick with sweat as I went through the door, but I straightened my back and took a deep breath. I composed my face so that I looked calm and collected. I was a famous actress for a reason, dammit. I could look calm for a meeting. I wasn't gonna let a little tequila—okay, a
lot
of tequila—come between my dreams and me.

But the little voice in the back of my head kept asking,
Am I on my way up? Or am I on my way back down?

Eight men were sitting at the table, waiting. Eight of the mansplainers I'd been complaining about. They collectively frowned at me. Lucas was at the head of the table, wearing the biggest frown of all. His grey hair stood up in a wild, artfully crafted swirl. His tortoiseshell glasses made him look intelligent, which he was, and easy-going, which he was not.

"Lowell." He nodded curtly. "Take a seat."

I felt as though he was the principal and I was about to get a ruler across my knuckles. Or my ass.

"As you might imagine, we were all very surprised and displeased with your little performance on
XYZ.
None of us expected you to be a problem. Or a party girl, for that matter." Lucas rubbed his face. "That's one of the reasons why we hired you. We thought you were trustworthy and reliable. Instead, you've shown us that you're immature and capable of a wicked temper tantrum. Not what I was expecting, Lowell. Not what I was expecting, and nothing I find acceptable."

"Lucas, you've got to give me a chance to explain—"

"I have to do nothing of the kind." He looked at me from across the table, and my heart sank. "You're lucky we've decided not to fire you. Not yet, anyway."

I looked around the table and saw nothing but blank or disapproving looks from the other producers. "What do I have to do?"

"First of all, you need to apologize the right way. Your behavior has been very damaging to this film's prospects. We want you to do a contrite sit-down interview with one of the major networks. Second of all, you need to keep this guy Kyle around. I'm guessing keeping men around isn't your strong suit," Lucas said, a bit meanly.

I gulped. They had no idea what they were really asking. "Why is that? Not the part about me being unable to keep a guy around—but the part where I have to keep
this
particular guy around?"

Lucas gave me a tight smile. "Because he's the only reason you still have a job right now. You're lucky the press is eating this story up. We ran some market tests, and your approval ratings are higher than they've ever been. Which is really saying something because you threw up on a cop. After spewing a feminist rant. You know the public doesn't like that shit."

"It wasn't a feminist rant," I said, desperately trying to control my anger. "I was upset about the fact that you said I needed to lose weight."

"I didn't tell you that you had to lose weight," Lucas said, his tone a warning. "I
told
you that you need to be in better shape for our upcoming action sequences. As per your contract. You knew what you were getting into, Lowell. We talked about this before you came on board. There's no room for excuses now. You're supposed to conduct yourself like a professional. You're being paid enough to do at least that."

He sounded absolutely disgusted with me, and my face flamed. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I said, "I'm sorry about what happened, but it was a one-off. I'll be on my best behavior for the rest of the shoot."

"That's a relief," Lucas said. "I need you to shoot a few scenes this morning. Without any drama. After that, we need the following: You need to be in better shape for the action scenes. We're pushing the schedule back six weeks so you have more time to train, and also more time to put this incident behind us. Keep it up with the new boyfriend. Keep him in front of the press. Do the one-on-one interview. We want you to generate some excitement, some curiosity during filming. People want to see movies they're personally invested in, so if they feel like they know you and they know you were falling in love while we filmed
Renegades Forever,
we might have a chance to turn this thing around."

I nodded mutely. My head was spinning.

"I want exercise. A healthy diet. Lots of pictures of you with the boyfriend, smiling and holding hands. Do you copy?"

"Of course," I said, trying to be brave. I nodded calmly and met each producer's eyes. "I won't let you down. I want this movie, and I know it'll do very well at the box office."
It'll do well, and I'll make enough money to start my own company and never work with you mansplainers again
.

"I really hope so, Lowell," Lucas said.

"I really hope so too, Lucas," I said contritely.
You prick.

Dismissed, I hustled through the door. Cristina jumped back as though she'd been eavesdropping.

"They're all yours, Cristina. Good luck with that."

I
called
Shirley before I went to hair and makeup, and I told her everything that had happened in the meeting.

"That's the plan then," she agreed.

My heart sank. I was stuck with Kyle for the foreseeable future. No one knew the trouble that could cause me. I was pretty sure I wasn't even being honest with myself about all the trouble that could call me.

"I wanna see lots of pictures of you two going to the gym. I'll have Gigi work on getting that exclusive interview scheduled." She was quiet for a moment. "You're doing a good job, Lo. You pulled a rabbit out of a hat, just like I said. I gotta thank Tori for finding him—she might just get back in my good graces after all."

I winced. If Shirley knew the truth, I was the one who would never get back in her good graces.

"Hold his hand," she ordered. "Smile! Have fun!"

"I'm not having fun," I said through gritted teeth.

"Well, you better act like you are," she retorted. "It's better than cleaning up puke—literally and figuratively."

"Thanks for the pep talk," I mumbled, but she'd already hung up.

Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, my phone buzzed again. My mother was calling. I sighed and answered.

"Darling," she said, breathlessly, "I've been thinking about our talk. I think you need your mother. I'm cutting my trip short. I'll be home soon."

"No!" I wailed, then I tried to calm myself down. "I mean, please, don't cut your trip short for my sake! I'm fine. I talked to Lucas this morning—everything's
fine.
"

"You aren't fired?" she asked hopefully.

"No! Everything's fine... I just got out of a great meeting with Lucas. I was just being silly," I lied. "Don't come home yet. Enjoy your trip. I'd feel so guilty if you came back just for me."
And trust me, you wouldn't like what you'd find.

"Well… maybe I'll stay for a few more weeks then. We're supposed to visit some amazing temples…"

"Visit them!" I practically shrieked. The literal last thing I needed right now was my mother back in town. "Please!"

"Are you sure everything's okay?" she asked.

"Yes. I promise," I said, steeling myself for the road ahead. "I want this job just as much as you want me to keep it, Mother. So I'm doing everything I need to do."

God help me.