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Denise is in the business of making movies, she knows how quickly a star is born or swallowed up by the black hole of unemployment.
“I can’t speak for Olivia, Ma. And she doesn’t know about any movie offers, but even if I promise to run it by her, I think I know which she’ll choose,” I tell her.
“And what about you, Jack? There’s a three movie deal right here. You just need to pucker up like you did yesterday on command and you can be number one again,” she reminds me.
“Even if we lose the girl to her magazine stories. We can find another one just like her for the movies, I’m sure.”
I’ll never kiss anyone other than Olivia again. If she doesn’t want the movie deal, then neither do I.
“I’ll get back to on that one, Denise.” I counter, careful not to close the door completely on it and mindful of her instant warning.
“Goodwyn doesn’t wait, Jack. He’s expecting you at the studio rather than hanging around for your terms.”
“I know, I know,” I tell her, puffing air out of my cheeks as I hear the faucet shut off in the bathroom.
“I gotta go, Ma. I’ll call you within the hour, okay?”
There’s so much she wants to go over, to ask and convince me of but I can only think about seeing Olivia again.
Even though she’s only in the next room.
That tiny bathroom.
Hell, this whole place including the bathroom is still smaller than one of my actual bathrooms in any house I own.
She’s not staying here though, that’s final.
If nothing else, I’m feeling claustrophobic.
But one look into her eyes and I can tell she’s more upset about the place than I could ever be.
“I thought you’d fallen in,” I try to joke, wondering why she’d suddenly take a shower like that.
“I just… This place… You seeing it…” she stammers, and I rush to hold her, telling her none of it matters now.
“We’re not staying anyway,” I tell her, taking charge. “Get a few things you know you’ll need. We can get everything else new.” I explain.
She tenses up under me but then nearly collapses, and I can feel the exhaustion flowing from her as much as I can feel her tears and emotion.
“My job. The column,” she tries to protest again, and I silence her worries with a firm kiss on the top of her head, still wet from the shower and smelling like something I want to hold on to for a lifetime.
“I’ve actually had a couple of better offers since you were showering,” I confess, smiling as she looks up, fake punching my chest.
“Jack, don’t,” she sniffs. “It’s a crappy job and a crappy apartment, but it’s all I have,” she continues until I give her a simple choice of two things.
Maybe three if we keep the original situation.
“Own a Hollywood gossip page or a three movie deal?” I ask her point-blank, borrowing a little of my agent’s own style.
The same ultimatum I know Denise would pitch anyone.
“Or, you go back to a crappy life with a crazed Hollywood actor stalking you all day, needing you to be safe. Needing you by his side,” I add, cocking a brow, knowing I couldn’t stand her out of my sight for more than a few minutes, let alone whole days if she went back to her ‘job’.
“Give me an hour,” I tell her.
“Let me show you how your new job with me is way better. And it comes with its own perks,” I remind her, pressing myself against her.
Grateful when she finally nods in agreement.
“An hour,” she murmurs, moving away from me only to pick up a few things, but enough to tell me she isn’t coming back anytime soon.
Chapter Twenty
Olivia
I have no real idea what Jack is referring to, but the thought of even trying to return to my old life is equally useless under his powerful touch.
The effect he has on me.
Everything he’s offering, which even without words feels like a dream that’s actually starting to come true in waking life.
As if sleeping with the man wasn’t enough, the dream continues into waking life. And like him, prefect with every step, even though I have no idea where any of it is leading.
But knowing he wants me on his arm, by his side is all that really matters.
He waits patiently as I get changed and pack a few things, pretending to be busying himself with his phone but I can sense his eyes on me at every chance he gets.
“Ready?” he finally asks, reassuring me with a hug before we leave.
I nod, too anxious to even look at anything except his hand in mine.
Nowhere near ready to even switch on my phone again.
Like I said. I’ll give him an hour to set out what he has in mind, but something already tells me it’s a little more permanent than that.
