“And now you’re going to believe the tabloids over me?”
“It doesn’t matter what I believe. I know you didn’t touch anyone because I’ve been in contact with Alvin.” My eyes narrowed and she shrugged. “In order to protect you, I need to know what’s happening in your life before others can learn about it. So, yeah, of course I’m keeping tabs on you. The point is, tomorrow everyone will eat up the story. It doesn’t even matter whether it’s true or not, or that there are no exclusive pictures attached to the interview this time around. Everyone will believe it simply because, well, it’s what you do.” Another shrug. “It’s the first thing that pops into their minds when they hear the name Jason Thorn.”
“There are no exclusive pictures, blurry or not, because nothing happened in Toronto.” I sighed. No matter what I said, I knew I couldn’t win. “You’re giving me a damn headache, Megan.”
“I wish a headache was your only concern. Any publicity isn’t good publicity in your case, Jason. Denial can only work up to a certain point and they are not having what we’re serving them anymore. You want to be known for your work, not your personal life. That’s what you told me when you hired me, and you were right, because that’s the only way you’ll keep getting the big roles. Otherwise you’ll just get lost in this circus because no one will be interested in having you on their team.”
“And marrying some girl will solve all of my problems.” I gave her a bitter laugh and rose from my seat. The sky was tinged with pink and soft orange hues while in there, in that office, my own world was filling with dark clouds.
“I didn’t say it will solve all your problems at once. It all depends on how you act after you’re married. You’re gonna have to play the good husband role for quite some time. No stepping out on your wife either. I don’t care if you add a clause into the contract, agreeing to have sex just with each other, but you’re not going out there to take out your dick and keep doing what you’ve been doing.”
“I’m not having sex with anyone,” I growled.
She waved her hand, dismissing me. “Of course, before all that happens we’ll have to make it look like you’ve been dating for a month or two before you get married. Leak some cozy photos of you two together. Then we’ll come up with a good story and you’ll elope or something.”
“A good story,” I repeated, running my hand down my face. “My entire fucking life is turning into a horror story.”
“Well, next time you’ll remember to keep it in your pants and we won’t be in this situation again.”
“Thanks for the advice,” I mocked.
“Go home, Jason,” she said wearily. “I have to make a few phone calls and see who else I can add to your ‘future wife’ pile.”
“Great,” I muttered, heading toward the door.
“I’ll be waiting for you at 4 o’clock, tomorrow. Don’t make me chase you. You have to choose someone so we can start shaping the story. This isn’t something that can happen overnight.”
I headed out without saying another word.
***
Me: What are you up to?
Olive: I’m about to scream for Mercy for the second time tonight.
Me: What?!
Olive: LOL! Not that kind of screaming. Unfortunately, it’s only karaoke night and Lucy wants me to celebrate the movie deal by singing my heart out. We’re doing Charlie Puth’s ‘Marvin Gaye’ in ten minutes, for the second time… I believe it’ll happen a few more times before the night ends.
I was back at home, but the longer I tried to relax and read the mostly complete script Bryan had given me, the more I was starting to feel like a trapped animal in my own damn home—which soon enough wouldn’t even be my own home. I would be sharing it with an unknown roommate.
Trying to forget about my own life, I’d decided to text Olive to see if she was free to talk about the script. After all, nobody knew Isaac better than her, and even though I’d read the book thoroughly, twice, it would help if I could get deeper into Isaac’s head. Maybe ask what she was thinking when she was writing from his point of view. She could give me details about his past, things that only she could know.
As for Isaac’s unfiltered sex scenes in the book…I didn’t think I was ready to go there with Olive. After reading the book, I understood why Olive didn’t want Dylan or her dad to read it. Both of them would either have a heart attack, or simply have trouble looking into her eyes again, which would be a great tragedy. Her eyes…they were one of a kind, alluring and intriguing in a way that made you want to get closer to her just so you could study and memorize the depth of the colors, find those hazel specks hiding in the bright green and watch how they sparkled when she smiled at you.
The night she came to my house to meet with Tom, I found out that I had no trouble at all looking at any part of her body, including her eyes, which probably made me a complete bastard.
Reading her last text again, I realized what I was feeling was disappointment. I’d been eager to talk to her, to pick her brain, to see her again. Wasn’t that why I had invited her to sit in on the screen testing? Hadn’t I felt happy when I’d seen her standing in front of the building, smiling at me as I jogged to her side? And in that brief moment, hadn’t I completely forgotten about Dylan being my friend, and Olive being his little sister?
Not liking where my thoughts were heading, I tossed the script aside and shook my head. Maybe not having sex was getting to me. My phone pinged with a new text from Olive.
Olive: What are you up to?
I smiled and walked outside as I texted her back.
Me: Enjoying my freedom while I can.
Olive: What does that mean?
Me: Nothing important. I have part of the script so I was actually thinking of calling you to see if you were free to discuss Isaac. Pick your brain a little.
Olive: I’ve been with Isaac for almost three years. He’s been my day and night. He is so broken, but still perfect just the way he is. Let’s talk about him. Let’s talk about him for hours.
Me: Are we still talking about the same Isaac?
Olive: There can only be one Isaac in my heart. Though he gave his heart to Evie, he’ll forever be in mine.
Me: I’m thinking you’re a little on the drunk side, little one.
Olive: It’s Long Island Iced Tea night!!! And I don’t want to be the little one any more, Jason :( I want to be big Olive. I’ve grown up, I’m not clingy or sticky anymore.
Not having a clue what she was talking about, I hesitated for a short moment before calling Alvin.
“Hi Alvin.”
“Hey, boss. What’s up?” There was a rustling sound in the background.
“Sorry man. Bad timing?”
“It’s fine. Did you need something?”
“Yeah. I need you to find me a…a college bar, probably. They are having a karaoke night.”
I could hear his laptop come to life. “O-kay. Is there any way we can narrow that down? Otherwise the list will be longer than you’d want.”
“It should be somewhere near USC. I’ll text you her address so you can check the bars around the apartment, too.”
“And this ‘her’ we’re talking about is Olive Taylor?”
“Yes,” I replied distractedly as I walked back into the house. If I was going out, I would need to change.
“You’re not considering going out to find her in a bar, are you?”
“And if I am?”
“I’d say you must not have enough of Megan chewing your ass and you’re jonesing for more.”
I laughed. “Don’t worry, she won’t hear about this.” I stopped next to my bed. “And if you don’t want to get fired, you’re not reporting that to her either. Get back to me as soon as you can. I’m texting you her address.”