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Hollywood Ever After (Red Carpet 1)

Page 9

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I shook my head, my mind racing to keep up with her.

“So what have you been thinking?” She regarded me over the rim of her drink. “About life? Your plans?”

“Well…” I considered. “Continuing as I have been for now. The school would like me to teach full time next year.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “But that’s not what you said you wanted. And an elementary teacher’s salary can’t go far with two kids.” She regarded me with slightly narrowed eyes. “You could come to work here. I happen to know people. That helps. There’s also the possibility of getting published or optioning a manuscript. You’d get paid—pretty well, too.”

“Getting paid to do something you really enjoy? Seems almost criminal.”

Victor’s voice interrupted our conversation. “So I’m a criminal?” He was followed by a few others. And Josh.

I tried, without much success, to keep from staring at Josh, who sat gracefully on a chaise across from me and Shannon. Directly in my line of sight.

I smiled, shaking my head. “No, I—”

“She was trying to convince me not to pay her to do a job that she’s perfectly suited for.” Shannon shrugged.

“Never say no to money. Unless it’s for something illegal,” Victor added.

Shannon quipped playfully, “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe not illegal, but there are some things that are just so wrong.”

“So I shouldn’t take money for illegal activities, or for things that are so wrong they should be illegal?” I raised an eyebrow in question, sipping my drink.

“Sounds like a solid foundation for career development,” Josh said, looking slightly horrified by the line of conversation.

Victor handed Shannon a drink. “Have you heard the sequel buzz?”

Shannon winked at me. “Uh, no, I’m working hard right now to pitch this project I’m psyched about.”

“Really?” Victor leaned forward.

“Just in the outline stages for film right now, but it’s a character piece. A severely broken woman escapes her personal prison, becoming empowered in her circumstances and taking control of her life. No butt-kicking or anything, just an awakening to self-worth.”

“Could be fascinating,” Josh commented, his eyes coming to rest on me now and again.

I stared into my glass and tried not to have a panic attack. I listened to her take on my life. “It’s been done before. Sounds boring to me,” I mumbled, more loudly than I intended.

Shannon laughed aloud. “Says the inspiration.”

“A reluctant muse?” Josh asked.

“She had to ply me with alcohol before she dared to mention it.” I made the mistake of looking at him. My eyes seemed to get tangled up with his.

Josh leaned forward. “Curious.” He radiated a dangerous amount of heat.

“Not really. Nothing of interest, nothing to warrant any curiosity,” I argued.

“It’s not always easy to see oneself clearly.” Josh’s voice was soft, considering. I turned my eyes back to my glass, attempting to end his visual assessment. “And I disagree. I find you very interesting. An intriguing mystery,” he murmured, so softly no one but me could hear him. He sat back, his eyes sparkling as I shifted awkwardly in the chair.

Shannon was chattering on about the lack of good stories in today’s films. Was she goading me? I intentionally tuned out the conversation. Why would anyone here be interested in my pathetic story? Even I was barely interested in it and I was living it.

Josh was staring at my leg. I was wedged into the chair, one leg tucked under me, the other dangling with my toes tracing the flooring of the deck. His eyes traveled slowly up, from my toes, along my calf and, slowly, to my knee. He smiled slightly when he realized I was watching him. His cheeks were flushed and he arched an unapologetic eyebrow. I took a sip of my drink as a diversion. His eyes fell to my lips, his jaw tightening. I couldn’t breathe.

“Jennifer Fleming, Claire Collins. Claire, Jennifer.” Shannon nudged me, forcing me to respond to the young woman standing before me.

I smiled up at the girl, mumbling, “Nice to meet you.”

The strawberry blonde nodded politely at me then plopped down on the ottoman next to Josh. “What are we talking about?” He treated her to a grin, then looked at me again. I shifted in the chair, trying to make staring at him a little less easily accomplished.



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