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“What the hell is this?” I ask Spencer, pointing the picture toward him. “Please tell me that’s from the set and not from tonight.”
“Crap,” he says as the color drains from his face. “I’m sorry, Leila, I can explain.”
“You can explain? What is there to explain about a kiss? In a nightclub? In public?” I shout. The picture stares at me from my phone as tears form in my eyes. He’s clearly wearing the same clothes I took off him not long ago, which means I’m not the only girl he kissed tonight. While I was enjoying my spa day, he was enjoying his body pressed up against Candy’s out at the club.
“Please, Leila, just listen to me. It was nothing.”
“You kissed her, Spencer. There’s no denying it.”
“It meant nothing. She ambushed me!”
“If that were true, why didn’t you tell me first thing when you got here last night?”
“I didn’t think you’d ever find out.”
I scoff. “So it’s OK for you to suck face with another woman if I don’t find out?”
“That’s not what I said …”
“That’s pretty much exactly what you said.”
“Then it’s not what I meant. I didn’t tell you because it doesn’t matter. You’re my girlfriend, and Candy is just some obsessive costar who won’t leave me alone.”
“So you thought you’d play along with her because I wasn’t there and probably wouldn’t find out? You kissed her in public! The photos are out!”
“I didn’t know there were photographers …”
“Just get out, Spencer. You’re just making it worse. We’re done. How am I supposed to trust you?”
“Leila …”
“Get out!” I scream, my voice breaking.
Spencer must hear how serious I am because he gathers his clothes and leaves my bedroom, only trying once more to talk, but I don’t want to hear it.
I look at the picture for what feels like hours. Maybe it was just a quick peck. Maybe Candy did ambush him at the club. But, if it really meant nothing, Spencer should’ve told me about it right away. He chose not to tell me.
If he kept this a secret, what else might he be hiding?
Chapter Thirty-Four - Spencer
I climb out of bed with a headache and a heart full of regret.
Staying in my house all day is too depressing. Everything here reminds me of Leila. Am I going to need to hire a new interior designer to erase the memory of the girl I loved and lost? If I can’t win her back, that might be the only option. Sleeping in the room she designed is too much for me to handle.
I figure I’ll go to the gym. If I want to get cast in more roles, I have to keep up my physique. Sure, there might be a place for all body types, but right now, Hollywood wants lean and muscular guys. I have an intense gym in my house, but it’s better to go to the private gym where I pay a ridiculous amount for membership since being in the house is the opposite of what I want right now.
The workout feels good, despite the headache. My muscles needed a good stretch. I’ve been seriously slacking on gym time lately. It’s about time I got back.
I keep my headphones in so no one bothers me. I take out my frustration on the free weights and jog on the treadmill to try and get rid of some energy. All of it helps, but I’m still thinking about Leila and how I can win her back.
Wondering if I even have a chance. How could I have been stupid enough to think I could keep the kiss with Candy a secret?
Just as I’m doing my cooldown on the treadmill, my phone rings. It’s an unfamiliar number, but since I’m waiting on responses on a few auditions, I turn off the treadmill and answer it as I walk out the gym door. No one likes the guy who talks on the phone at the gym.
“Hello, is this Spencer James?”
“This is he. How can I help you?”
“Good morning, Spencer. This is Derek Smeathe, and I’m the casting director for the upcoming romantic comedy being produced by Michael Whitacre.”
My eyes widen, and I climb into my car, keeping the windows up so no sound comes in. It’s hot, but I don’t want this guy to think I’m unprofessional. Michael Whitacre is Candy’s father, and this is the movie I have been wanting to be a part of since it was just a rumor.
“Yes, hello! I’m so glad you’re calling.”
“I’m actually calling to let you know that we would like to offer you the part of Troy, the male lead in the film.”
I nearly drop my phone. “But … but … I didn’t even audition. How is this possible? Is this a prank?”
Derek laughs. “It’s not a prank. You recently filmed a movie with Mr. Whitacre’s daughter, and he is very impressed with your work. He considered that film your audition and would like you to come work with us. I have your agent’s information. Should I get in touch with him?”
