The Fame Game
He gives me a sexy look I want to slap from his face. “Yes, agent girl.”
Chapter Eighteen
Willow
After two weeks into our living situation, we find a groove that works for us. Nico does the food shopping and cooking, and I clean and maintain the house. Our unconventional relationship is feeling like we’ve been friends for years. Nico stands in front of the stove, dressed in basketball shorts that hang low on his narrow hips. He doesn’t seem to enjoy wearing shirts in the house. It’s as if he can’t stand to have the fabric touch his skin. The man never wears a damn shirt, which is frustrating.
On the plus side, he’s trying and hasn’t touched a drink since he moved in with me. Not like I would supply him with alcohol, anyway. We made a deal, and he’s following through with the plan.
“Do you want cheese on your burger?” Nico asks me with his back to me.
And what a nice back. He’s ripped with muscle, tanned and without an ounce of fat on his body.
“Extra cheese,” I tell him.
“You got it.” He flips a burger in a frying pan and then reaches for two slices of cheddar cheese. “Do you want your bun toasted?”
“Yes, please.”
I lean forward on the counter, my elbows digging into the marble, and watch this gorgeous man make me dinner. He sways his hips to a pop tune belting out from the speaker on his cell phone. Nico sometimes sings and dances when he cooks. The first time I caught him, we both laughed it off, but now, he does it to entertain me. And torture. I mean, seriously, this man is doing things to my lady parts that should be illegal. I push the dirty thoughts down because he’s my client in need of my help.
My work cell phone buzzes across the countertop with a call from a local 213 area code I don’t recognize. I raise the phone to my ear, and a man on the other end shouts into the speaker.
Loud noise pierces my eardrum, which sounds like the rotary blades of a helicopter in the background.
“Hello,” I shout. “I’m having trouble hearing you.”
Nico turns around with two plates in his hand, looking like the sexiest cook in history. The only thing hotter would be him naked underneath a Kiss the Cook apron. A girl can dream, right?
“Miss Duvall,” the man says, now moving away from the chopper. “It’s Dean Patterson from Liberty Productions. Look, I’m about to take off and won’t be back in town for a few days, but I’d like to work with Nico Chase on The Fallen.”
“We’re looking forward to working with you.”
Nico gives me a curious look as he sets our burgers on the counter and comes around to my side to take the barstool next to me at the kitchen island. I hold up my finger and give Nico a smile that probably shows every tooth in my mouth. I’m so damn happy I have to strangle my inner cheerleader, who’s ready to scream.
“Karl Blake just dropped out of the role of Lord Marlon for personal reasons. It’s a small part if he’s interested. We film next week. Do you think Nico could get up to speed by then?”
“Yes. Where are you filming?”
“At our studio in LA.”
We discuss the details about the role. Nico won’t make as much money as he would have earned five years ago, but this is the start of something better.
“Can you have your assistant send over the script?”
“Will do,” she says, now fighting the loud noise in the background. “My assistant will be in touch, Miss Duvall.”
The line goes dead, and my mouth is hanging open wide enough to throw popcorn into it. I drop the phone onto the counter, shocked by the sudden turn of events.
“You won’t believe this,” I say to Nico. “Karl Blake bailed on The Fallen. That was Dean Patterson, studio head at Liberty Productions. He wants you to take Karl’s place as Lord Marlon.”
“So, I’d be what, a knight?”
I nod. “We should hear from his assistant soon. I can help you run lines if you need me… or maybe someone from your acting group can run through lines with you.”
Nico throws his arms around me, lifting me off the bar stool as he squeezes the life from my tired body. He kisses the top of my head, his grip so strong I can hardly breathe.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
“It’s not a starring role,” I point out.
“No, it’s a second chance.” He releases me from his grip and settles onto his stool, lifting the burger from his plate. “We should celebrate this week.”
“How about dinner?”
He sinks his teeth into his burger, speaking between bites. “Deal.”
Chapter Nineteen
Nico
Adrenaline courses through my veins as I mess up my line for the fifth time in a row. Combined with my rapid heartbeat and the nerves shaking through my limbs, I can hardly focus.