The Prada Paradox (6 page)

So, yes, he could have handled the question better. But dammit all to hell, Devi knew he was an idiot in interviews. But had she cut him some slack? Not even a tiny bit.

For that matter, neither had the media, and “Trouble in Paradise” headlines popped up everywhere. Suddenly every ex-girlfriend had something to say about him, and all the gossip rags started speculating about how he’d only gotten together with Devi in order to land the part inGivenchy.

The whole situation was fucked up, and he hadn’t had a clue how to make it better. He’d gone back to Los Angeles expecting Devi to commiserate with him, maybe even laugh at the press and his own stupidity. Instead, she’d cried and told him to get the hell out of her life. Something that was easier said than done, considering they were scheduled to start shooting the movie.

Yes, he’d screwed up, but she’d overreacted, too. But none of that changed the fact that he’d hurt her, however unintentionally. That one reality haunted him. He’d grown up with an absent father, a mother he adored, and two impish little sisters. It simply wasn’t in his nature to hurt a woman, especially not a woman he cared for.

Having theLetterman crew on the lot was like rubbing salt in her wound. Which was why he’d gone to her trailer to see if she wanted to come on the segment with him. She’d pissed him off by not hearing him out and assuming the worst, and he regretted the way he’d stormed out without telling her why he’d come in the first place.

At least he’d had the wherewithal to cancel the damn thing. He might not completely understand women—with Devi at the top of that list—but he knew enough not to make the same mistake twice. No matter what Elliot Kelly might think.

Of course, since Elliot made no secret that he thought Blake should date a star with more box office bang, Blake’s attempt to save Devi’s feelings probably wouldn’t pull much weight with his manager. A manager who was currently pacing, his jaw working back and forth as if he were trying to chew something really unpleasant.

As he stalked about, the scalp under his comb-over started to turn red, a sure sign his blood pressure was rising. “So I guess I should just quit,” he finally said. “Why not? You don’t need me. Not if you got a fucking death wish.”

“A death wish?”

“Yeah. A death wish. You’re gonna kill off your career. And my reputation, too. You remember that the next time you pull a stunt like this.”

Usually Elliot’s histrionics just rolled off Blake. Not today. Today, he wanted to hit something. Or someone. “Give it a rest, Elliot. They’re rescheduling.”

That stopped Elliot’s pacing. “Rescheduling? For when, exactly?”

“It’ll get done,” Blake said. “Trust me.” The truth was that he’d be perfectly happy if the damn interview never went forward. He liked the work just fine, but the trappings that came with it? All the damn publicity and people sticking cameras in his face?That he hated. Especially since he seemed to be miserable at it. He’d sure as hell shoved his foot firmly into his mouth on more than one occasion.

Elliot’s fat finger came out again, and his mouth opened, but Blake cut him off. “I said it’ll get done.”

“They’re still on the lot,” Elliot said, suddenly perking up. “If you don’t have a time already set to reschedule, then let’s just do it now. Get this out of the way, and you can concentrate on your performance. Trust me, that’s the way to go.”

“Give it a rest.”

“She’s not worth it, Blake,” Elliot said. “She’s not a girl who’s going to make your career.”

“Maybe not,” Blake agreed. “But I’m not going out of my way to upset her. I hurt her once. I’m not going to do it again.”

“You’re a damn pansy-ass. Honestly, I don’t know why I keep working with you.”

“Because I’m such a charmer,” Blake said, and this time the grin was real.

“That must be it.” Elliot looked at his watch, then pulled out his cell phone, a sure sign that the conversation was over. “You got a big day tomorrow. Get some rest. We’ll clean this mess up later.”

“I’m sure we will.” But the sarcasm was lost on Elliot, who was already telling someone on the other end of the phone to “Get him on the horn now, baby. We got things to talk about.”

Blake just shook his head, not sure if the gesture was exasperation or fondness. The voice from behind startled him.

“You got a live one there.”

He turned to find Tobias, his gaze fixed on Elliot.

“Don’t I know it.” As much as Elliot drove him crazy, though, he couldn’t completely fault the man. He’d signed with Elliot back when his only interest in Hollywood was getting fight-scene choreography work. And even though Elliot’s clients had been limited to actors, he’d taken Blake on simply because they’d gotten along and because Elliot thought that someone needed to show those effeminate action hero types how to really kick some butt.

When Tobias had offered Blake an on-camera role, Elliot had truly stepped up to the plate, negotiating a sweet contract and making sure that the public knew damn well that there was a new star in the Hollywood sky. Blake still wasn’t entirely sure he was comfortable with being labeled a star months before his first movie even opened, but he couldn’t argue with Elliot’s results. He’d already landed foreign commercials, follow-up roles, and several endorsements.

He’d accepted the role because he’d been financially strapped. Not so anymore, and that was in large part due to Elliot’s advocacy.

The man might drive him crazy, but he was damn sure effective.

“Let’s walk,” Tobias said.

Blake fell in step beside him. With his scruffy beard and teddy-bear build, Tobias Harmon usually seemed like the least dangerous man on the planet. But he was also the kind of guy you didn’t see coming. In a town that watched carbs more carefully than the stock market, Tobias’s well-known glutton tendencies made him a bit of an anomaly. He was invariably invited to all the best parties. And yet he never quite fit in.

Blake had liked the man from the first moment they’d met. “What’s on your mind?”

The director glanced at him, but didn’t break stride. “Do you know when I met Devi?”

“Years ago, I assume. You didTaming Lily when she was, what? Ten?”

“I met her five years before that. She was five. Just finished with Spielberg, and I wanted her in my next project. We met at a hotel while she was doing the publicity dog-and-pony show. Her mom looked wiped out, but Devi was as fresh as a flower.”

One of the production assistants waved at them, then rushed over with a clipboard.

“She’s a professional,” Blake said, as Tobias started to scribble his name on various sheets in the mile-high stack of papers. She’d grown up in the loving glow of camera flashes. There’d been a few catty remarks from the occasional reporter, sure. But for the most part, she’d never had a reason to do anything but soak in the attention. Not until that son of a bitch assaulted her, anyway.

Just thinking about it made Blake’s blood boil. They hadn’t been dating at the time—hell, they hadn’t even met back then—but he’d seen the damage that the bastard had done to her. It both broke his heart and made him want to lash out and hurt someone. No, not someone.Him.

And so help him…if the police ever managed to track the guy down…

Well, a background in martial arts could be damn useful at times.

Of course, if he was going to kick anyone’s ass, he supposed it should be his own. After all, Devi had mostly recovered from her attack. She was off the drugs, back out in public, and she hadn’t even balked at Tobias’s mandate to promote the hell out of herself and the movie. He knew it hadn’t been easy on her. But thankfully the glare of the spotlight had been soft-focused. They were the romance du jour, after all. The reports were extravagant, but generally kind. From a PR perspective, the situation couldn’t have been more perfect.

So what did he do? He went on national television and slapped a big red target on the two of them.

God, he was a jerk.

The production assistant babbled a thank-you, then hurried off to her next task. Tobias turned back to Blake. “So there I am,” he continued, as if they’d never been interrupted, “bone-tired from shooting pickups all day, and this little slip of a girl marches over and shakes my hand. ‘So you’re our brightest new actress,’ I say. And do you know how she answers?”

“No idea,” Blake said, even though the question was mostly rhetorical.

“She says, ‘I guess I am, sir. But what I really want to do is direct.’” Tobias shook his head, chuckling. “She’s never wanted to direct a day in her life. But she knows how to play to an audience.That’s her special talent. And it’s a rare one.”

“I know it,” Blake said, not sure where this conversation was going, but suddenly more nervous about it than he used to be when his army colonel father would come home from a trip overseas and spend an hour grilling him on how well he’d taken care of his mother.

“She’s like a daughter to me, and I don’t want to see that spark in her fade. She’s been through hell twice already. Real hell, and then that crap you pulled on her.”

“With all due respect, she’s the one who broke up with me.” It was a ridiculous comeback and he knew it, but Tobias had got his defenses up.

“You want to know the truth? I don’t give a shit who dumped who. At the moment, all I care about is protecting this picture.”

“You won’t get any argument from me.”

“Good. Because I’ve been talking with the publicity folks over at the studio, and they want to turn this thing around.”

“This thing?”

Tobias shot him a sideways look. “Whatever you may have heard, all PR is not created equal. Your breakup’s going to affect our bottom line. Folks want to see a movie starring a couple in love. A movie starring a couple at each other’s throats? Not so much. Gossip may go up, but breakups don’t sell tickets. I’ve seen it happen to lesser couples than you two.”

“I’d love to help you out there, Toby, but let me state the obvious. Weare broken up.”

“I never was good with the details, kid. I’m a big-picture man, myself. And the picture I see is filled with happiness and joy. You get what I’m talking about? I want every rag in this city talking about the chemistry between you two. How you made up, and now it’s hotter than ever. We need to do everything to make sure that you two are the golden couple.”

“And this all because of the box office? You’re just looking out for the bottom line? This isn’t about Devi at all?”

Tobias met and matched his gaze, but didn’t answer the question. He started to walk away, then turned back. “I’ll say this much. You do anything else to hurt her, and you’re going to answer to me. You understand?”

“I’d never do anything to hurt her.”

“Blake, you already have. What you need to do now is make it right.”

“I know.” The only problem was, he didn’t know how.

Chapter8

“So you really mean it?” I ask for the eight-hundred-and seventy-five-millionth time. “I can handle it, right?” There’s a lot of things we could be talking about. At the moment, though, I’m focused on tomorrow’s scenes with Blake. Because after the way my heart skittered in my chest upon seeing him today, I’m more than a little nervous about working with the man.

Lindy signals for the check, but ignores me. I skim my fingers around the rim of my glass and try my best not to scream. The Beverly Wilshire is posh. Primal scream therapy really isn’t welcome here.

The bartender slides the check in front of us, and I make a grab for it. Lindy gets it first, but I manage to snag it between my thumb and forefinger. We’re locked in a desperate tug-of war to see who gets to fork over forty-two dollars.

“You’re ignoring my question,” I accuse.

“Um, yeah,” she says. “Duh.”

“Fine,” I say, letting go of the bill. “You pay.”

She snaps the paper toward her and pulls out her wallet, completely unperturbed. “I’ve already answered you. At least nine times at last count.”

“Do me a favor and answer me again. Just one more time,” I plead. “It’s the neurotic actress in me. I need constant reassurance.” I also need food, but I’m not going to touch the bowl of nuts sitting just six inches away from me. Too many calories. Too much salt. My trainer would have a fit.

What the hell.I snag a handful and pop them into my mouth before I can change my mind.

I close my eyes, reveling in my little corner of cashew heaven. When I open them, I see Lindy grinning at me. “Protein,” I say.

“Uh-huh.”

“Answer my question,” I demand, but she just smiles. I’m about to press the point when my cell phone rings. I snatch it up, check the caller ID, then ignore it.

“Who is it?”

“Larry,” I say, referring to my agent. “He’s calling about theNorth by Northwest thing. I just know it.”

“So just tell him you don’t want to do it.”

“I should,” I say. “But I’m still waffling.”

I’ve been offered the lead in a big-budget remake of that famous Hitchcock film. Apparently the producers think I’d be great in the Eva Marie Saint role.I think it’s a sin to mess with Hitch. I would have assumed that after the whole Gus Van Sant psychosis, everyone knew that.

At the same time, though, itis a big part. And Larry thinks that since my star is on the rise again withGivenchy, we need to jump on the role.