Extreme Bachelor (27 page)

“What job?”

Leah rolled her eyes. “Spy,” she
muttered.

Adolfo leaned forward.
“
Que
?”

“SPY.”

Adolfo blinked. And then he burst out
laughing. A very loud, very boisterous laugh that filled the entire
commissary tent. “I am sorry, I am sorry,” he said, holding up a
hand. “But this line is very good! Bravo, bravo! And what does he
spy upon? Cows in the field? Beautiful women?”

Leah was beginning to feel like a naive
little idiot. “Terrorists,” she said wearily. “Arms dealers or
something.”

“Aha! And where are these terrorists?”
Adolfo asked gaily. “Do they star in Hollywood movies?”

“I don’t know. Austria, maybe?”

Adolfo laughed roundly again. “Austria!” he
scoffed to the ceiling. “And does he prove this? Does he show you
something to make you believe? A key, perhaps?”

“A key?” Leah echoed, confused.

“A key. Something,” Adolfo
said, waving his hand at
something
.

A bit of a language barrier. “No,” she said,
shaking her head. “He didn’t show me anything. It sounds completely
stupid and made up, doesn’t it?”

Adolfo smiled sadly, as if
she was a poor, young, imbecile. “This . . . this
man
and his lies and his
wild sayings hurt your heart,” he said kindly.

“Oh no,” she lied. “Not really. It was a
long time ago. But this time, I wasn’t that into him.”

“He is not worth the dirt on your feet,”
Adolfo said strongly.

“I think you mean
beneath
,” Leah said with
a smile.

“Beneath. He does not deserve to have the
same air you breathe,” he added with a grand flick of his wrist,
and then he leaned forward, pressed his finger to thumb and said,
“He does not deserve to live on the same earth.”

Leah shrugged.

“If I had you, beautiful
woman, for
my
woman, I would treat you like a princess, shower you with
gifts and flowers and kisses. And I would never allow this worry to
be in your eyes, no? I would kiss it all away.”

“Oh,” Leah said, moved a little by the
passionate way he made his case.

“And if my woman ever look at this bastard
or another man, I cut her,” he said with a snap of his fingers and
jerk of his hand.

She instantly reared back. She had the
distinct impression that he really meant it.

But Adolfo smiled sexily
and reached for her hand, taking it into his palm and then stroking
her knuckles with his thumb. “Ah,
mi
amor
, you look very sad.”

“I’m fine.”

“Allow me to make you happy—”

“Thanks, Adolfo, but we’re just having a
guava juice.”

“Yes, but I can give you more than juice,”
he purred.

Leah pulled her hand from his and pushed
back. “I have to go.”

“No, no, do not go away from me,” he
pouted.

“I’ve had a long day and I have to be back
very early in the morning.”

“Here!” he proclaimed, gesturing to the
table and the seat. “You will find me still sitting here, still
thinking of you.”

“I’ll be sure and wake you up,” she said
with a wink, grabbed her backpack, and walked away.

“Do not dream of this bastard, Leah!” Adolfo
called after her as she walked away. “Dream sweet dreams. Dream of
Adolfo.”

She smiled at him over her shoulder, but she
had no hope of sweet dreams.

MICHAEL scoured the lot, looking for Leah,
and finally gave up. He was walking to his car when he saw Nicole
Redding coming out of the production offices. She instantly lit up
when she saw him and started strutting toward him.

Not now
, he thought miserably.

“Well, International Man of Mystery, you’re
still here,” she said.

“So are you.”

“I’m actually
in
the movie. What’s
your excuse?”

He smiled, thrust a hand through his hair.
Nicole put her hands on her hips and tipped her head back to look
up at him, the smirk still on her lips.

He casually touched her shoulder and pulled
a loose strand of hair from her shirt. “What is it now, Nicki?”

“I was just thinking that I never realized
how much you got around. You’re really quite the ladies’ man,
aren’t you?”

“Am I?”

“Don’t be coy, Michael. It really pisses me
off.”

She looked as if she was on the verge of a
major pout. Michael smiled, touched her chin. “I’d bet not as much
as an inquisition generally pisses me off,” he responded
cheerfully.

Her eyes narrowed, and she pursed her lips,
which really was not a good look for her—it definitely made her
look like an old hag. “Does it even matter to you that I have a
public profile? I don’t like being made a fool of in public.”

A number of retorts flashed across his mind,
but Michael was a gentleman, and he shoved his hands in his pockets
and smiled. “How am I making you seem a fool, sweetheart?”

“People still think we’re an item—”

“Only because you keep perpetuating the
idea. But we’re not, and we haven’t been in a long time.”

“It hasn’t been that long.
But here’s the deal, Michael. You bring your skank girlfriend on
the set—
after
you
try and get in the pants of that soccer mom.”

“First of all, Nicki, I didn’t bring a
girlfriend on set. I’ve only met the woman a couple of times and
can hardly remember her name. Secondly, I wasn’t trying to get in
the pants of a soccer mom. I was trying to mend some old fences
with the only woman I have ever loved. And still, Nicki, I’m trying
to figure out how exactly any of that impacts you—unless, maybe,
you’ve got some idea that by hanging around here and dogging me,
you might convince me to get together again?”

He thought that would make her mad, make her
turn on her heel and walk away—but it had the exact opposite
effect. Nicole suddenly moved toward him, put her hand on his chest
and batted her lashes. “Would that really be so bad?” she murmured.
“We were so good together, Mike. You thought so, too.”

“Nicole,” he started, but she grabbed his
shirt before he could step away.

“Don’t say no. Just think about it. Think
about how great we were in bed and how great we could be
still.”

He sighed, reached up for her hand, but she
would not let go, so he covered it with his, trying to loosen her
grip. “Baby, we weren’t that good together. We argued all the time,
and you weren’t exactly faithful, and the sex wasn’t that great. We
really oughta hang it up, don’t you think? You’d be so much better
off with a guy who made you happy. I don’t make you happy. I piss
you off.”

“Why don’t you want me?” she asked, leaning
into him, tilting her head back. “I’m a movie star. There are a
million guys who’d want to be with me.”

“I know,” he said and impulsively kissed her
cheek as he removed her hand from his shirt. “Why don’t you want to
be with a guy who wants you more than the air he breathes, Nic?
You’re right—there are a million of them. So why beat this old dead
horse?”

Nicole sighed and lowered her lids so that
she could just barely see him. Michael imagined some director had
once told her that looked sexy, but it looked stupid as hell.

“It’s not a dead horse. I still love
you.”

“Nicki, you never loved me,” he said, and
smiled tenderly, for even though she was making an ass of herself,
he felt a little sorry for a woman who was a mega star and had to
go about getting a guy like this. He started to tell her she should
look beyond the movie business for love, but a movement caught his
eye, and he glanced up.

There, across the parking lot, was Leah,
looking a little dumbfounded and a whole lot pissed. He tried to
step away, but Nicole was determined, and grabbed his shirt again.
“Wait,” she pouted. “Let me just say this . . .”

It was too late, anyway. Leah was already in
her car. And as Nicole made her case to Michael, Leah drove away,
surely believing now that not only did he have a thing with Ariel,
but still hadn’t managed to get past the one with Nicole,
either.

And exactly when was it
that he thought being the Extreme Bachelor was a
good
thing?

Subject: Okay. You were right.

From: Leah Kleinschmidt

To: Lucy Frederick

Time: 6:10 pm

There is nothing that makes me want to jump
off a building more than this, but okay, I have to admit it,
Lucy—you were right. Michael is an asshole and all I did was set
myself up for a humongous, body-splattering fall. Granted, it was a
fall through a very cool movie premiere and some of the best sex I
have ever had in my life, but spectacular nonetheless. So get a
load of this: he was on a date with someone as recently as last
week. Last week! And as if that wasn’t painful enough, I see him in
the parking lot today with his tongue practically down Nicole
Redding’s throat. Please tell me why I am such an idiot? I will
believe anything. I am so going to get a huge bottle of vodka right
now and drown myself.

P.S. Thanks for finding the turquoise fabric
for the bridesmaid’s dresses, but after what I just went through, I
hope I never see the color turquoise again. I will not wear
turquoise jewelry or admire it in the ocean or even admit it exists
as a color.

Subject: Re: Okay. You Were Right

From: Lucy Frederick

To: Leah Kleinschmidt

Time: 9:19 pm

I TOLD YOU SO. Don’t jump, just remember
that I am always right, and your life will be a lot easier. Damn,
that makes me so MAD. I KNEW he was going to screw you over, that
bastard!! But hey, what’s done is done. I’m sorry, kid. I always
thought there was something totally untrustworthy about him, but I
can’t believe he turned out to be an asshole. Chin up. Don’t drink
yourself to death.

OF course Leah didn’t answer her phone when
Michael called several times through the last week of boot camp,
and of course she found reasons to leave the lot early each day,
too, so she wouldn’t risk running into him.

And of course he came to her house. She
expected it. She also expected Brad to remember her admonitions to
keep him at the door, but Brad invited him in for a beer like they
were old college buddies. They even watched some hoops, according
to Brad, who, when confronted by Leah after Michael had left, very
cheerfully confessed it all.

“I like him,” Brad said, tipping his beer
toward Leah. “Cool guy.”

“Yeah, he’s cool all right,” Leah muttered,
and stomped back to her bedroom, pissed at her roommate. “Thanks a
lot, Brad!” she yelled at him, and Brad just waved at her over the
top of his head.

Michael showed up when she was packing a few
things for the trip to Bellingham, Washington, later that week and
knocked lightly on the doorjamb of her bedroom. He would have
knocked on the door, but it was open, and Leah was standing in the
middle of her room, wearing shorty gym shorts and a cropped
T-shirt, trying to decide if she needed two black skirts or just
one. When she heard the knock, she expected Brad, and groaned when
she looked up, turning away from the sight of him.

“Hey, baby,” he said.

“Hel-
loh
, Michael,” she said in a
sing-song voice that was totally sarcastic. “I see Brad not only
forgot that I didn’t want to see you, but he also offered you a
beer.”

Michael looked at the beer
in his hand. “He insisted. I mean, he
really
insisted.”

That was Brad, all right—party on, with
whoever was available, whether he knew the person or not.

“He, ah . . . he pointed me back here,”
Michael said.

Great. Now Brad was directing traffic back
to her bedroom. She seriously had to have a talk with him. She
angrily folded a T-shirt and threw it into her suitcase.

“I realize you’re upset—”

“No! I’m not really
upset
,” she baldly
lied.

That seemed to surprise him. He actually
looked a little hopeful.

“I’m
furious
,” she said with the same
smile. “See how my teeth are bared? And my knuckles are white
because I am trying so hard not to punch you?”

“Oh Christ—Leah, I
didn’t
date
Ariel.”

“Right,” she said, and threw some underwear
into her bag like she was trying to knock a hole through it. “You
just hung out with her, I guess?”

“Sort of,” he admitted with a sigh.

Sort of
? He was supposed to say
no
, he never saw her, never talked
to her, never—She turned a murderous look on him, and Michael tried
to smile, but he couldn’t make it happen and just shook his
head.

Leah turned back to her Rambo packing.

“Jack started seeing a woman who won’t go
out without a pack. You know how women are.”

“I know how women are?” she echoed
incredulously, folding her arms over her middle.

He had the decency to look
chagrined. “I just meant . . . you know how some women have that
pack mentality . . . never mind,” he said quickly, after seeing her
expression. “Just leave it at Jack dating a woman who won’t go
unless her friend goes, too, and so Jack begged
me—
begged
me,
Leah—to ride along. The first time I went, you were hardly even
speaking to me, and even so, I just sat there like a bump on a log,
making small talk, just for Jack, because all I could think of was
you. The second time I went because Jack really likes this chick,
and he practically got down on his hands and knees to beg me. He
promised me it was the last time. And it was. And again, nothing
happened—we had a few laughs, but that was it. It was nothing. It
was such a
nothing
that I don’t even remember it.”