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He went into Jack's room and tickled him for a while, then tucked him in securely with hugs and kisses before telling him to sleep. He backed out of the room, finding himself wondering what Jack would have looked like with a different mother. Would he have had Jill's dark blonde hair? Her stormy blue eyes? Would his nose have turned up like hers?
It was the nose! She’d had the tip of her nose refined. That mystery solved, he went back down to his gym where he spent a good hour working on his abs and chest. If his face showed his age, his body wasn’t going to.
When he was satisfied and felt the stress had been alleviated some, he took a quick pass in the sauna and rinsed in the club shower built into the gym before going into his room. He settled into bed with the stack of scripts his agent had sent over and picked through the pile until he found one that grabbed his interest.
He fell asleep reading and didn't wake up until the sounds of Kim and Jack playing in the backyard made their way through the open sliding glass door of his balcony and into his dreams.He squinted at the clock to find it was after noon, so he struggled out of bed, showered again, dressed himself and went to say hello before leaving for a round of meetings with Roland and his publicity team.
With the Oscar buzz generating for Knight and with Lone Star’s imminent premier, his team wanted to shift gears to build more around his social media audience. Roland was still set on the romance angle, and to Kline’s dismay his team agreed. Clara, his social media manager, talked him through what the timeline might look like. For peak engagement, they would want him going IG official with a woman by February the following year–in time to do a little dance for the Academy, who would start voting after the BAFTAs. In fact, she had mused, going official at the BAFTAs was a great idea.
Clara had put out feelers to Selena’s team at Roland’s request, but she was concerned about the internet drama that had plagued the actress since her Justin Bieber days, so she wasn’t entirely on board with that, and offered up a number of other names instead. Kline waved off all of them.
“I keep telling you people I can find my own dates,” Kline grumbled.
“Let us help you help yourself,” Roland laughed and Clara grimaced.
Finally, she shrugged. “I don’t know any other way to say this: You need to be in a relationship. It needs to be with someone whose profile matches yours, so the public is interested. It needs to follow a storyline so the public will engage with it, be excited by it, and want to see more of you. Right now? Your reputation is kind of…well, the people who don’t see you as a fuckboi see you as a dud. If you want an Oscar, let us rehab your persona. Give us eighteen months of your life and we’ll give you the prestige you need to live like Leo and his revolving door of teenagers, if you want.”
Kline had been properly offended by that but threw up his hands. “I have a date tonight with a woman who is a show runner. Is that high profile enough?”
“What’s the show?” Clara asked, perking up.
“Simon Says.”
She deflated just as suddenly. “Ugh. A sitcom? No. Absolutely not. Wait–isn’t that the one that spun off from your last sitcom?”
“Yeah.”
Her face shifted through several thoughts before she said. “Okay. Maybe. Would she be up for it? Pretending to be in love for a year?”
“Why pretend?” Kline turned on his charm, falling flat at Roland’s disapproving frown.
Clara coughed and blushed. “Feel her out. If she’s interested and that’s the route you want to go, we’ll give it a try. It’s better than some no-name or a fan.”
He left the meeting angry and frustrated, but also excited because his team really thought they could campaign him into that Oscar win. He’d once given up a woman he loved with his whole heart to pursue this career, what was a year and a half? He didn’t have a biological clock ticking. And, if he played his cards right, maybe he could just date whom he wanted. He was sure he could make a relationship work without his team orchestrating it. Hell, people had year long romances and then broke up all the time. He knew that better than anyone.Fuckboi.
Sighing, he pushed it out of his mind for the moment. He was home again by five, in time for dinner with his son, then he went upstairs to work out before getting dressed for his date, where he started to think about it again. He wondered if Rhiannon would be into the idea? She was a writer. She could collab with his team to build a storyline. That thought satisfied his mind enough that he could concentrate on getting night club ready.
Showered, shaved, and dressed to kill, Kline strode downstairs to say goodbye to his son. He and the live-in nanny were playing Mario Kart in the living room, and barely looked up as he kissed Jack's head, and started out the door in a blaze of black silk and custom cologne.
He arrived at the address Rhiannon had given him, a tidy bungalow in Malibu, and walked up to the door with his smile firmly in place. He'd been looking forward to this all afternoon and anticipating what he hoped would be a nice evening with someone who was industry without being an actress. It was just a little before nine when he rang the bell, and he heard heels clicking on hardwood before Rhiannon opened the door and greeted him with a smile. "Hi.”
"Oh, look at you," he grinned, handing over the bottle of wine he'd picked up on the way. She was decked out in a black strappy dress that hugged, flattered, and generally did all sorts of things to her figure that he found himself interested in doing right along with it. Her thick, auburn hair was pulled up, but wisps of layershung low, framing her face. The glasses had been dismissed and he grinned at her, "Green eyes--gorgeous. I love green eyes."
"I love them, too, but brown is good," she said, noting his own. She looked at the bottle, then raised her eyes to him. "Is this for now? I thought you were taking me dancing?"
"I am. This is a lovely parting gift for my hostess. We'll part with it for now.Sound good to you?”
"Definitely," she said, tilting her head slightly. "Come in while I put this away and get my bag."
He followed her inside, looking around. "Nice place. Did you just move in?"
"The boxes give it away?"
"I'm observant, you see. Do you have a good view?"
"A beautiful view. I can walk out my back door and be on the beach. Quite a change from the fifth floor walkup in Manhattan. I'm not sure if I like being this close to the water yet, but I spend so much time at work, it doesn't really matter. The breeze is nice."
"You're from New York?"
