Hitman's Hookup: A Bad Boy Romance (40 page)

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Authors: Vesper Vaughn

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BOOK: Hitman's Hookup: A Bad Boy Romance
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"Where's Fox?" she asked, standing up. But she was a few seconds too late. Fox and Wilder were running over to our table.

Wilder looked like he was ready to break a wall of concrete with his bare hand.

Fox ignored Lydia and crouched down next to me. “Look at me, Olivia.”

I obliged, feeling more panicked by the second.

"Whatever you read, remember what I told you: they will be past this by tomorrow. It's a good thing. A great thing, actually. No such thing as bad publicity."

"What are you all talking about?" I asked. Lydia handed her phone over to me. I took it, squinting at the screen as a full sunbeam fell across it and obscured the image. Lydia grabbed the bread basket and held it up to block the sun. "Thanks," I said quietly.

The screen in front of me had a grainy, on-set photo of me and Wilder. Judging by my costume, it must have been taken a few days previous.

The background of the website was hot pink, and there was a child-like scribble across mine and Wilder’s faces with a heart scrawled in between. The headline read "Roman Holliday.” I snickered in spite of myself. That was actually a clever headline.

Sometimes I laughed when I was in situations of intense stress.

I looked at the block of text underneath the photo.

“Surprise New Hailey Holliday release tells tale of betrayal; was Wilde child’s new co-star the happy homewrecker?” I scrolled further to see a photo of Hailey on the red carpet, smirking.

The author of the blog had drawn red laser beams that appeared to be shooting out of her eyes.

The text went on: "Hailey Holliday took to Instagram to preview a new song she's penned and slated for a weekend release. The ten-second clip shows her and her famous red guitar…with a twist. WATCH NSFW VIDEO HERE."

I clicked the right-facing triangle that was atop the still, frozen image of a makeup-free Hailey sitting in sweatpants with a guitar across her lap. In front of her was a pile of tabloid covers with Wilder’s image on them. The video loaded and began playing. I couldn't hear what she was singing, but someone out of frame dropped a lit match onto the tabloids, turning them into a blazing inferno.

The video clip ended.

I looked up at Wilder and Fox who were both staring at me apprehensively.

"I couldn't hear it," I said, shrugging. "I don't get what the big-"

Lydia grabbed the phone, scrolled down a little, and handed it back to me. I saw the four-line verse caption.

When you came out of nowhere I said no more

You'll never be anything but his little side shh…

They said to never, ever trust her

But how was I supposed to spot a star fucker

I scrolled down further to a photo of me that they must have swiped from Facebook. I was wearing a smile and my college sweatshirt. I saw that Lydia had been cropped out of the photo; all that remained was a sweep of her purple hair across my shoulder. "HOME WRECKER" was scribbled across my face.

I put the phone down and looked up at Fox and Wilder.

I felt like my soul had left my body.

Fox swallowed hard and forced a smile. "Like I said, all press is good press. And not many women can say they've had a Hailey Holliday song written about them."

"But it's not true," I said, flabbergasted. "That's not what happened at all. And home wrecker? Seriously? How is that a thing? You two weren't even together! We didn’t – we haven’t – what is happening?"

Lydia rolled her eyes.

Wilder noticed. “Hailey and I weren’t together, Lydia. Seriously. It was blackmail. She wanted publicity for her album.”

“Well, she’s certainly getting what she bargained for,” I said sarcastically. “Unfortunately it’s at
my
expense.”

I picked up the rest of the baguette and started shredding the dough to pieces in a blind rage. “Now the entire world thinks I’m some money grubber fucking my way to the top."

I stood up and knocked my chair over. I didn’t even care. I realized the entire crew and cast were staring at me.

"I didn't even
ask
for this. Fox, you came to
me
, because of
him.”
I jabbed my finger toward Wilder angrily.

Here I was, for the thousandth time in my life, absorbing the shrapnel from a bomb that someone else had planted, lit, and detonated.

Wilder stared at me, his expression unreadable. Then he finally spoke.

"This doesn't make sense for Hailey to do this. She would know this would be more good press for the movie than bad. And if she's really angry, she wouldn't want this movie to get attention, even if it meant that
she
would get attention.”

I stared at him, incredulous. "Oh, right. That’s what’s important. The
movie
.”

Wilder shocked me by taking two steps forward and grabbing my forearm. He pulled me past fifteen people into the wardrobe tent. He barked at a few of Lydia’s assistants to leave. They dropped what they were holding and exited the tent in a second.

He was still holding onto me.

I stared him down. “Let me go.”

He did immediately. “Listen to me. Do not fuck this up. You will regret this. Keep your emotional outbursts to yourself. This is a film set. You cannot ruin yourself over Hailey’s bullshit. If you want to get angry at someone, get angry at me. And do it in goddamn
private
.”

I was still fuming and at a total loss for words

He put his hands up in surrender, separating his feet and planting them firmly into the ground.

“Go ahead. Bring it. I can take whatever you’re going to dish out. Let out your fucking anger on me.” He looked around. “We’re alone.”

A total rush of adrenaline came over me as I looked at him.

“This is your fault.” Wilder nodded.

I was testing the waters.

Then my words finally came, and they didn’t stop coming.

"It’s
your f
ault. You pissed off Hailey.
You
kissed
me
.
You
eye-fucked me that first day on set or whatever. I didn't ask for
any
of this."

I felt like I was high on drugs. This felt so good. It was like I had been bottling up all of my feelings since I graduated college. They were all just pouring out now.


You
humiliated me. In college. You embarrassed me in front of
everyone
on that stage. You…that
role
was the
one
thing that I wanted. You took that away from me. And why? I still don’t fucking know, Wilder.”

I was pacing now, my heart thumping. Then I walked up to him and jabbed my finger into his chest. It was like touching granite.

Wilder had something like a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

“WHAT?” I screamed at him. “WHY are you smiling?”

He burst out laughing, covering his face with both of his hands and hiding his dimples.

“Sorry, it’s just that you’re fucking adorable when you’re angry. That’s all. Your nose twitches a little and you’re like this adorable little sex bunny.”

He reached his hands out and stroked them up and down the top of my forearms. Goosebumps erupted across my skin.

I blushed.

“Don’t do that,” I whispered to him. “We can’t. We’re…working together.”

He tilted his head. “I beg to differ that we can’t do that. We can do anything. Last time I checked I was the lead producer on this film.”

I felt butterflies in my stomach again. Actually, it was more like a hurricane of feathery wings threatening to choke me. He was so close to me, again. He put his finger underneath my chin and lifted my mouth toward his.

Our lips were nearly touching when the cloth door to the tent flapped open. We jumped apart like the other was on fire.

Janna was there with her clipboard. “We need to get back to filming,” she said. She looked disapproving, but wiped it away with a quick smile at both of us.

“Be right there,” Wilder said in a voice that was slightly higher than usual.

Janna shook her head. “It needs to be now.”

I pushed past Wilder and Janna back into the bright sunshine.

Wilder was right.

I didn’t want to fuck this up.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

WILDER

"Dude, you could have put a shirt on," Josh said to me. "I feel like between living with you for five years along with all of the photos my sister sends me of you on the front page of TMZ I've seen more of your body than I've seen of mine. Fucking put some clothes on, dude.”

I was laying in my bed with all the lights off. I was relieved to be back in my own space in the penthouse. It was like Hailey had never been here; even the lemon-infused, dusty odor of cat litter had been miraculously scrubbed from my bedroom.

Only the glow from my Macbook Pro illuminated my body. Josh was onscreen, sitting on the bottom of a bunk bed wearing an orange anorak.

"And you could have fucking bathed," I retorted to his heavily bearded face.

He looked tired but happy. I felt my body get lighter just from seeing his face. It was good to have someone to ground me to reality after the last week of pure chaos.

"How are things at the bottom of Earth?" I asked.

"Freezing my tits off, but hey, you do what you gotta do to save the world," he said with a smile.

"Documentaries don't save the world," I replied. "Al Gore beat you to discovering global warming. I wouldn't hold out for an Oscar."

"Oh, but I'm sure
Naked and Shooting Guns Part Six
is definitely going to get you your first nod," Josh shot back at me.

We were both still grinning.

"It's good to see you, man," I said.

"It's good to see you, too. So what's this I hear about you fucking the coffee girl and giving her a starring role in your new movie?"

I sighed. "How the fuck do you know about that?"

Josh shrugged. "It was too windy to film today so we mostly just tried to get our satellite Internet connection to work."

The screen flickered and his face became a Picasso-like arrangement of too few pixels for several moments, his voice garbled. "...engaged to the singer?" was all that came through.

I got the gist of what he was saying. "We weren’t…really engaged. It was just Hailey being Hailey. And I'm not fucking Olivia."

Josh came back into crisp focus. He shrugged. "Not fucking her yet, but isn't she the one who got away?"

I considered lying to him but knew that wouldn't work too well. Josh knew me better than anyone. "The one who fucking cut the line herself, you mean."

Josh laughed. “She is the
one
girl who broke up with you before you could do it yourself. Did you apologize to her yet for humiliating her?”

I shook my head. “No, but she did bring it up.”

I scratched at my hair.

“Dude, you are the
worst
actor sometimes. I know you feel terrible about it, and you obviously still want her. Just say you’re sorry. What’s wrong with you?”

It was my turn to shrug, but I knew I wasn't fooling him. Hell, after the last few days, my performance right now wouldn't fool anyone.

Josh rolled his eyes. “You are a stubborn bastard; you know that? Fuck, when I met Amy she could have broken my heart a billion times and I would come crawling back a billion and one more.”

A noise sounded from the background. It seemed like a door was opening.

"Speaking of which..." he said, turning around and kissing the gorgeous, petite Korean woman who had just appeared in the frame of the camera.

She was wearing orange snow pants and a long-sleeved black shirt. Her dark hair was pulled back into a sleek bun. She waved at me.

"Hey there, Wilde," she said.

"Hey Amy," I replied with a smile. "You keeping this asshole in line?"

"I have to, I'm his boss," she replied.

Amy was an award-winning documentary director. As much of a good-natured ribbing I'd given Josh earlier in the call, she really had changed the world with her movies.

"Hey, I've got something for you," she said, rummaging in her pockets.

"Is it a baby penguin?" I asked in a mock-hopeful voice.

"Better," she replied, pulling out her iPhone and tapping it a few times. Sound came out of it. She held it closer to the computer speakers.

Hailey's voice came through the computer. "Don't trust a star fucker…”

Amy and Josh were mouthing along, playing air guitar.

Josh was laughing so hard I thought he was going to break his ribs.

"Your girlfriend's pretty quick with the material, I have to give her that," Amy replied. "Even if she is a world-class high maintenance bi-"

Josh cut her off. “We were able to piece together most of the story through TMZ, but I want to hear the Wilde-certified version.”

I sighed. “She joined the movie without me being notified. She was fucking terrible by the way. God-awful acting. Wooden, over-acting-“

Amy looked confused. “She’s great in her music videos, though.”

I nodded. “She was blackmailing me. Wanted me to fake propose to her for a publicity stunt for her album. I agreed, because, well. She’s Hailey and I need this movie to work. The next day it was like she’d spent a year at Juilliard. And then the photo of me in the gym broke.”

Amy held her hand up. “Was it your new co-star? The new girl. Olivia? The one you had sex with in the theater.”

I glared at Josh. “Man code broken once again. Not cool.” But I laughed as I said it, and so did Josh.

He pulled Amy close to him and kissed her cheek. “She knows
everything
about you that I know, dude. You should know that by now.”

Amy cut across him. “So? Was it Olivia?”

I put my hands over my eyes. “Yes,” I mumbled.

I looked at the screen and saw Amy holding her hand out to Josh, who fumbled in his pockets and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill.

“You were betting on that?” I yelled, good-naturedly.

Amy laughed. “Yep!”

“Wait, why the hell are you carrying around a hundred-dollar bill in fucking Antarctica?”

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