Facade (20 page)

“The trainer was there. Some say dogs have the mentality of a two-year-old, and it did tricks.” No one ever saw the potential. If she could talk as eloquently in front of the camera as behind, she would be the reporter. Actually, she would have been an actress and the interviewee. Even the camera on her phone terrified her, not a flattering trait coming from a family of actors. “A few fetches and atta boys would have been perfect for your report.”

“I am not doing this interview.” The click of Julia’s heels on the wood floor of the conference room grew louder as she approached. “What? Are you scared to face me?”

Though she tried not to look directly at her, Ivy gave in, swallowing back any mention of the tiny mascara smear above her left eye. Julia should meet Mr. Alexander with such an imperfection. “The agent promised me Ryder or Erin. Only, two hours ago, he called to say Logan would be here instead.”

“He was one of the major stars.” Craig wiped his brow.

“Stop defending your personal pet.” Julia turned her back to him.

Ivy held out the note cards she made for the wicked reporter. “Logan Alexander is an excellent person to interview. The villain is always the most interesting. Even after all the scandals,
Hollywood Stardust
is one of the most beloved teen movies ever made, and changed the genre forever.”

“I don’t need your details. Did you spend your life studying this movie?” Julia grabbed the cards out of her hand and tossed them to the floor. “He was arrested and personally responsible for getting the sequel canceled. He is as bad in real life as he was in the movie.”

“Don’t forget that I ran off innocent Drew Fulton and no one has ever heard from him again.”

At the unexpected male voice, Ivy turned. Her breath caught as her ultimate teen fantasy stood before her.

The heat in the room intensified, but she froze. Mr. Logan Alexander leaned in the doorway—more like filled up the doorway. He lifted a cigarette, twirled it between his fingers, and placed it in his mouth.

Unlike someone who lived the hard-knock life of a disgraced actor, time had kissed him, leaving him looking much like his teen dream self, only a little more rugged. While his other two male costars from the movie possessed more of the good and wholesome image, Logan Alexander personified the conniving character. He was the one who lured people with looks that could only be described as remarkable.

As if this whole thing were nothing but a bother, he pushed away from doorjamb and entered the room, glanced at Julia, turned his back to Craig, and faced Ivy. “So, you think the villain is the most interesting?” The cigarette bounced between his lips.

Interesting? Interesting as in the way he pulled his dark blond hair into a ponytail that hit the nape of his neck leaving one long strand to hang down the side of his face? Maybe interesting in the way his light blue eyes seemed almost translucent, half-closed, and definitely naughty? Of course, also interesting in how the slight bit of stubble highlighted the angles of his face, and the way he managed to keep his cigarette balanced. Then the answer was yes, he, or the villain, was the most interesting.

“The villain always needs to go under the most transformation.” She managed to squeak out the words and pointed to his cigarette, unsure if she needed to tell him about the no smoking rule. Did fantasies follow rules?

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to light it.” His gaze scanned down to her shoes and back up to her face.

Interesting. She licked her lips. The man was more glorious in person than on the silver screen.

“What if the villain hasn’t undergone a transformation?” Julia tapped her foot.

Ivy ground her teeth together. If anyone needed to change, it was Julia.

“I suppose I’ll get more hard-hitting questions than asking a dog trainer if Rover, the hot dog hunter, is potty trained. You sure know how to dig deep.” Though he answered Julia, he continued to look at Ivy. “I liked the dog, a much better choice than the obnoxious little boy.”

Transfixed, she continued to stare at him.

“Just because the villain can change, doesn’t mean they will.” Julia moved over as if trying to get his attention.

He exhaled, but the cigarette stayed in place. “How can I do an interview with you when I know you are team Ryder all the way?”

“
Hollywood Stardust
was the typical love triangle.” Julia raised her chin. “Today’s teen movies are better developed than movies decades ago.”

“Oh, that reference to my age really does pain me.” He pressed his hand to his chest. “Tell me, did the villains of your era wear pompadours and leather jackets, or perhaps suits of armor?”

In an effort to stifle a laugh, Ivy bit the side of her mouth. There was something to be said for the villain getting their comeuppance, and she didn’t mean Mr. Alexander.

Julia narrowed her eyes and spun toward Craig. “I am not playing her game of bait and switch. If Miss Details loves villains so much, Miss Details can do the interview. Call me when you get a real star.” She stormed out.

“Well, that is one thing your runaway hostess and I agree on.” Mr. Alexander’s smile revealed a perfect set of Hollywood teeth.

“What would that be?” Craig wiped his brow.

“Miss Details should do the interview.” In a swoon-worthy move, Mr. Alexander bowed to her.

The spotlight shined down on her and the same stage fright she battled every second of her life took a strong hold over her body, made worse by being presented with her teen idol in the flesh. “Craig.” How she managed to utter even one word was beyond her, but she took it as a good sign.

“Oh, no. No, that won’t do at all.” Craig shook his head. The first and only time she was on camera at Chargge.com, she ended up running off set and throwing up in a trash can. “I am sure Julia will be right back.”

“Don’t bring her back on my account. I’m Team Details all the way.” Logan raised his fist as if he were about to begin cheering and, with a wink, lifted his chin in her direction. “She is clearly an expert on the movie and knows story structure.”

His gesture, though probably insignificant to him, served to ignite her courage as well as her body. She chose to ignore them both. All she needed was to throw up on one of the
Hollywood Stardust
stars.

Craig cupped his hand over his mouth. “She is an expert on every movie.”

Yes, fine, but she was mostly an expert on
Hollywood Stardust
. She remained silent.

“I refuse to be interviewed by anyone who is not an expert in cinema.” Mr. Alexander picked up one of her note cards, gave it a quick scan, and sauntered over to her. Yes, it was a total saunter. His walk may have also included a bit of a swagger as well. “Miss Details is the only one for me. It seems she has found something to talk about other than drugs, Drew, and sequels, since I won’t answer those questions anyway.”

She fought the need to hug her prepubescent crush, bury her face in his chest, and breathe in what could only be the smell of cologne and cookies. Later, they could go back to her apartment, and she would confess she used to write his name in her notebook and practice kissing him on the back of her hand. In her dreams, she could interview him and then they’d conquer the world together. In reality, she knew he was only playing a role and she would never be able to utter a sentence. Dumb reality.

“Either she interviews me or you can call the company that owns not only
Hollywood Stardust
, but your website as well, and tell them the video blog they expect to make waves won’t air today. I’ll be in the lounge not lighting my cigarette.” He handed her the card and walked out the door.

She leaned forward, bracing herself on her knees. “Oh God, I want to do this.”

Her boss paced across the floor. “You would be the perfect person if you could just learn to calm down. It’s what we hired you for.”

Though Craig never admitted it, she was the bane of his existence. He hired her as a favor to her father, and they gave her the job as a reporter. Technically, her current job as fact-checker and scheduler didn’t even exist. The reporters were supposed to do their own research, but Julia sort of snatched her up as a personal assistant. Both her parents who possessed multiple acting awards between them, looked at her with wide eyes and pity every time they discussed her career. Even they weren’t good enough actors to hide their disappointment.

She crumpled the note card in her fist and straightened up. “I’ll do it. I will interview Logan Alexander.” Part of her expected a spotlight to shine down on her signifying her strength of conviction. The other part was thrilled she didn’t live in a world where spotlights randomly illuminated at key life-changing moments. She would end up living in the bathroom with the lights off, shaking.

Craig shook his head. His skin had turned the most unusual shade of red.

“This is the movie of a generation, the one that spoke to that specific time. The story should be told by someone who truly loves everything it represents.” For once, she needed to be her own spotlight. “This is the movie that pushed the boundaries, didn’t rely on the happily ever after, asked the questions.” Maybe the movie that meant the world to her could also cure her.

“We need this story, Ivy.” He crossed his arms. “Seriously, we need the story. Other sites are competing with us. We need something to go viral. The advertising dollars are not coming in as they should, and you know what that means.”

Yes, it meant cuts, starting with the person who technically didn’t have a title. She might as well go big or go home, literally.

“Do the interview, but make sure you ask about Drew Fulton and the arrest and the sequel.”

“He said he wouldn’t answer those questions.” The swirl of anxiety circled around her stomach.

“Ivy.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “You can do this. You were made for this. Go to wardrobe, ask them for something more contemporary and fashionable, and ask the questions. We need you.”

For once she wouldn’t disappoint. She stopped herself from saluting and gave him a strong nod. “I got this.” As she walked out, she made a mental note to have a trash can put near the set.

On the Dotted Line

Amazon

A signature can change everything…

Rather than silver, Randolph Van Ayers III was born with a platinum spoon in his mouth and plenty of strings attached. Faced with a list of specific goals he must achieve in order to earn control of his family’s banking empire, he’s accomplished each task and triumphed. One item remains on his list. He must marry by his thirty-third birthday and stay married for one year. However, when his so-called fiancée leaves him on the courtroom steps only hours before his deadline, he realizes he might lose for the first time in his life, and a Van Ayers never fails.

Taught to rely on the universe for answers, Willow Day has always struggled in the material world, specifically her lack of material. With her small holistic store near foreclosure and without a home, she must do anything within her power to make the business work and take care of the woman who raised her. When the rude, yet gorgeous, Randolph the Third offers to fix all her troubles in exchange for one year of her life, she opens her mind and takes a chance.

It’s the battle of the mystical over the money. Between a hidden pet who looks more like a cotton ball, performance artists with wings, and a woman who spouts advice like a living fortune cookie, everything from restaurant reservations to a trip to celebrate the winter solstice create clashes for the couple as they learn how to fit into each other’s worlds.

With both their futures at stake, they must learn to accept reality, what the fates have dealt them and the consequences of falling in love from the moment they decided to sign on the dotted line.

An Excerpt

Chapter One

“Don’t get married for love.” Randolph Van Ayers III pressed two fingers to his left temple. The throbbing in his head reverberated throughout his body. Though he wanted to go home and lie down, if he came home with anything his mother considered an ailment, he would end up quarantined in one wing of the house no matter how many times he told the woman headaches weren’t contagious. The Mitchell Art Gallery presented him with a definite upgrade to being a medical pariah.

“Maybe you should look inside yourself for love.” The owner of the gallery, Slate Mitchell, stopped in front of a photograph of the back of a man’s head staring out into space. “However, I am still reeling that I didn’t get an invitation to your wedding, love or not.”

“Don’t spew your rhetoric at me.” It took all his effort to shake his head at the oversized, overdone image. The print wouldn’t be worth anything in his lifetime. “I didn’t even want to attend, not that it matters since I didn’t get married today for love or otherwise. However, I do thank you for the party in my honor.”