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She snared her hair in a ponytail and tightened it with a hard yank. He was waiting for her in the driveway. They began to run, but they’d barely made it a half mile before she had to stop. “I can’t today. You go on.”
Normally he would have teased her, but today he didn’t. Instead he slowed. “We’ll walk back. Let’s take my car to the park and shoot some baskets instead. If we’re lucky, it’ll be deserted, and we won’t have to sign any autographs.”
She knew they had to talk about what had happened, and it would be easier if she didn’t have to look him in the eye. “All right.”
He’d driven over in his truck, a ’66 Chevy pickup with a Corvette racing engine. If he’d been any other actor, she might have been able to pull off the nude scene. As much as she would have hated it, she could have detached from what was happening and gotten through it. But not with Jake. Not while she dreamed about a room filled with flowers and music.
“I don’t want to do the scene,” she said.
“I know.” He stopped the truck next to the park and pulled a basketball from behind the seat. They walked across the grass to the deserted basketball court. He began to dribble. “The scene isn’t sleazy, Flower. It’s necessary.” He made a quick dunk and then passed the ball to her.
She dribbled toward the basket, shot, and hit the rim. “I don’t work nude.”
“Your people don’t seem to understand that.”
“They understand it.”
“Then why did this happen?”
Because she’d trusted her mother. “Because I didn’t read the contract before I signed it, that’s how.”
He made a quick jump from the side and sank a clean shot. “We’re not after the raincoat crowd. It’ll be handled tastefully.”
“Tastefully! What does that mean?” She batted the ball at his chest. “Let me tell you what it means. It means it won’t be your noodle everybody is seeing!” She stomped off the court.
“Flower.” She spun around and caught him smiling. He wiped it off and tucked the ball under his arm. “Sorry. It was just your manner of expression.” He walked over to her and brushed his index finger under her chin. “It won’t be your noodle, either, kiddo. The most the audience will see is your backside. Mine, too, for that matter. They may not even see your breasts. It depends on how it’s edited.”
“You’ll see them.”
“Actually, Flower…it won’t be a new experience. Not that I’ve seen yours in particular, but there are only so many variations. If you think about it, I should be the one complaining. How many noodles have you seen?”
“Enough,” she lied. “And that’s not the point.” Her ponytail tugged at her scalp, and she pulled out the rubber band. “You think this is funny, don’t you?”
“Only the ‘noodle’ part, not the fact that you were misled. I’d kick some major ass if I were you. But, bottom line, that scene is necessary to the film, and you’re going to have to come through.”
He cupped the side of her neck and gazed straight into her eyes. She had the horrible feeling she’d seen him do this in one of his films, where he had to convince some stupid female to do exactly what he wanted. But what if the tenderness was real? She desperately wanted to believe that.
“Flower, this is important,” he said softly. “Will you do it? Will you do it for me?”
Right then, she knew it wasn’t real at all. He was manipulating her. She jerked away. “Stop pretending I have a choice. I signed a contract. You know I have to do it.”
She ran back toward the bike path. He didn’t care anything about her. All he cared about was his movie.
Jake watched her running away from him, and something tightened inside his chest. She was so damned beautiful with her hair streaming behind her like spilled gold paint. As she covered the ground with long, clean strides, he realized she was the only woman he’d ever been able to run with. From the very beginning, those knockout chorus girl legs had been a perfect match for his own.
A lot of things about her matched him. That smart-aleck mouth and quirky sense of humor. Her boundless energy. But not her innocence. That wasn’t a match at all. Not her innocence, and not her fragile little-girl’s heart.
Chapter 12
Johnny Guy cleared the set of all but the necessary few, then called everyone together while Fleur was in makeup. “The first person who cracks a joke or does anything to make Fleur uncomfortable today is out on his butt, and the union can go screw itself.”
Dick Spano winced.
Johnny Guy cornered Jake. “You watch those wisecracks today.”
“You worry about yourself,” Jake retorted.
They were glaring at each other as Fleur came on the set. She wore a yellow cotton dress and white sandals. A baby-blue eyelet ribbon held her hair back from her face. She’d worn this yellow dress most of the week as they shot the dialogue that led up to the love scene, but today was the day it came off, and she was miserable.
