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“Thanks, man!”
After the line goes dead, Jimmy speaks into the mic.
“Folks, keep the questions related to his movies. What a man does in his free time isn’t relevant.”
But his warning has the exact opposite effect, and things get out of control over the next five phone calls.
We close the line to the public after someone calls just to say, “You’re being paid big bucks to be an example for everyone. Can you honestly say you deserve all the fame if you’re another Hollywood womanizing bastard?”
Jimmy rubs his hands over his face. “I’m sorry, man. I don’t know what’s gotten into them.”
“Yeah, that’s starting to become a pattern,” I deadpan. I did two more panels with the superhero troupe this week, and they didn’t go better than the first one.
“When they turn on you, they turn on you. Just give them no evidence to actually hold against you, and they’ll get over it... eventually.”
I politely thank him for the advice, then can’t get out fast enough. I jump in the sedan again and cross the city to the hotel.
The second I enter my room, Preston calls me. I’ve been avoiding him, because he’s been repeating things ad nauseum. How dating Summer right now is too risky, too whatever. He’s been even more relentless ever since Summer told him about that reporter sniffing around.
“Hi, Preston,” I say.
“Hey, listen up, I have a new script for you. A period drama. Filming wouldn’t take long, and you could squeeze it in before the spin-off starts filming. Assuming we do get that greenlighted, of course.”
“Send it over. A period drama would be an interesting change.”
There’s nothing like the rush of reading a script the first time, getting to know the character, and then figuring out the best way to bring it to life, to do it justice. This is why I do this, what the dream is all about for me.
“Great. I discussed some of the protocols with Summer today. She’s surprisingly knowledgeable about reporters. I’m assuming all those years the press harassed the Bennett family served as exercise. But—”
“Preston, stop beating a dead horse. I know the timing isn’t good, but this will blow over. Summer is important to me. I want to know if you’re on my side on this.”
“You know I am.”
“Okay, good. Then make sure my girl is as comfortable as possible.”
We talk about the script for a few minutes longer, and the second I finish the call, I dial Summer’s number, a pleasant warmth coursing through me in anticipation of hearing her voice.
“Hello! Summer Bennett’s phone. Who is this?” a male voice asks. I stop in the act of pouring myself a glass of water, the warmth from before turning to ice.
This can’t be what I think. She wouldn’t... would she? It’s 11:00 p.m. in San Francisco. What male friend is she seeing this late? She said she was meeting her sisters....
“Who am I talking to?” I croak.
“Oh, give that here, you jerk, or I’m officially kicking you out of my favorite brothers’ list,” Summer’s voice sounds somewhere in the background. Her brother. Just her brother.
“Hey, sorry for that,” she says sweetly. “My brother Logan came to bring my sister some papers and then drove me home. Hang on, I’m entering my house now.”
I lean against the railing of the small bar area, basking in the feeling of relief, and hating that I was so quick to be suspicious.
“Yeah, I’m in. Sorry, again. My brother saw my phone light up and decided to prank me.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Possibly because I have a photo with a heart instead of a photo with you.”
A heart. Only Summer would do that.
I chuckle. “Next to my name?”
