Wrong (Hollywood Bad Boys) Read online

My stomach filled with dread. “Spit it out,” I said.

  “It’s Jacob.”

  I almost threw the phone across the room. “No! Why?”

  “I’m so sorry, I only found out after I already secured the contract for you. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you all day. It’s horrible, but you really want the job, right?”

  I sighed heavily. “Yes.”

  “So you can make it work. Somehow.”

  I nodded slowly. “You’re right,” I said. “And actually, I have an idea. As soon as I see him during production, I’ll make one thing abundantly clear to him. If he acts like a tool even a tiny bit, I’ll go to the media and tell everyone what he did that night. How he tried to steal the dog to return to an abusive man, how he was a total dick to me over dinner…all of it.”

  “Good idea. Although he already has a bad boy kinda rep, right?”

  I snorted. “Yeah, but not the dog-stealing kind. No one wants that.”

  “True.”

  “Okay, well, thanks for letting me know.”

  “No worries. Production starts in three weeks, and they want you to go over the scripts before then. They’re sending them to you tomorrow so you can start making notes and so on.”

  “Great. Talk to you later.”

  When we’d said our goodbyes and hung up, I summoned Oscar from across the room, where he was having a quiet nap. When he heard my voice, his ears pricked up, and he bounded over to me and jumped up on the couch next to me.

  “At least I’ve got one gorgeous, trustworthy man in my life,” I said, petting his head. “At least I’ve got you...”

  ***

  I arrived at Meridian Studios for my first consultant’s meeting the following Monday, and a tall, willowy brunette assistant directed me to a conference room on the third floor. “You’re here about the Fourth Down movie, right?” she said as we walked through a corridor. I nodded, and she sighed. “I’m so jealous. I hear Jacob Archer is starring in it. I haven’t seen him around here, though.”

  “He probably hasn’t been in yet,” I said. “The movie doesn’t start shooting for a few weeks. Right now the script is just being finalized and other details ironed out, so it’s mostly just other production staff hanging around rather than the actors, I presume.”

  “Oh, right,” she said. “Well, I can’t wait to meet him. Maybe he’ll even ask me out! I hear he’s dated a few studio assistants before.”

  “Just watch your dog around him,” I muttered.

  She wrinkled her nose. “What?”

  “I said good luck with that,” I said, forcing a smile.

  “Oh. Thanks!

  I stopped myself from rolling my eyes at her dreamy attitude toward Jacob, and I stepped into the conference room we’d just arrived at. Bonnie Minkoff, one of the studio executive producers, was sitting at the end of a large table, and she smiled and waved me in, getting up to kiss me on either cheek as I approached. She was a tiny but formidable-looking woman with intelligent hazel eyes and closely-cropped hair, and she gestured for me to sit.

  “I think we’ve met a few times, haven’t we?” she said. “Through Angie?”

  I nodded. “Yes, a few years ago. Anyway, thanks so much for taking me on board. I’m really excited about this movie.”

  Except for the part where I have to work near Jacob.

  “Yes, we’re all super excited,” she said. “Anyway, I figured today we could just go over some general things, like what sort of issues or problems—if any—you’re seeing overall, and we can even get started on fixing up the first scene when the script writers and editors arrive. They were here earlier, but they went for coffee.”

  “No problem. I can start without them,” I said.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Okay, so overall, the writing is pretty tight, but it lacks a certain sense of gritty realism on the sports side. It’s obvious the writers did their research for the most part, but there are a lot of terms that ‘real’ everyday players, coaches and fans don’t actually use. For example…”

  We discussed the script for a while, and when the writers returned half an hour later, I cleared my throat and spoke louder so they could all hear me outlining a particular mistake I’d just found.

  “Which page was that?” one of them asked, flicking through the script.

  “Page five, second line,” I said. “See, you have Walter on the field in that scene, as is necessary. But then it says the team they’re playing against has their O-line on the field.”

  She looked confused.

  “Sorry, I mean offensive line,” I said. “Anyway, Walter was a QB, and you can’t have both teams playing offense at the same time.”

  “Oh, of course. Duh, I don’t how no one picked up on that. It’s an easy fix. We’ll change that to the defensive lineup for the other team,” she said, crossing out some words on page five.

  “Nora, you’ll be present throughout the actual shoots to make sure the actors are doing everything correctly, right?” another writer asked. “Like their throws or whatever.”

  I nodded. “Yep.”

  Bonnie spoke up next. “Oh, speaking of actors,” she said. “All the guys we’ve hired to play the football team and coaches will be coming in soon for a meet and greet. I figured you should meet them, Nora, seeing as you’ll be working with them so closely when filming begins.”

  My heart began to race. “All of them? Even…even Jacob Archer?”

  “Yes,” she said with a wink. “Got a crush, huh? Don’t worry. Who doesn’t love him?”

  I didn’t have a crush on him. I wanted to crush him.

  I forced a smile. “I’m excited to meet everyone,” I said diplomatically.

  I was struck by the urge to race to the bathroom and check my hair and makeup, although I wasn’t sure why. I didn’t care what a bunch of actors thought of me…especially Jacob.

  Right?

  Bonnie checked her watch. “Actually, they should all be here by now,” she said. “Let’s take a break and head downstairs to the main set so we can do the meet and greet.”

  “Oh. Sure.”

  With each step I took behind her on our way to the main part of the set, more and more dread pumped through my system, and by the time we arrived at a large set of trailers, my legs felt like jelly.

  “Guys!” Bonnie said with a whistle. “Come and meet Nora.”

  A large group of men were playing an impromptu game of football over on a fake field, and when they heard Bonnie, they headed over to us. I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw that Jacob was not among them.

  “Where’s Archer?” Bonnie asked, noticing the same thing.

  One of the guys shrugged. “Late, I guess.”

  She rolled her eyes, and then she began the introductions to the actors. They were all big, beefy guys, and most of them seemed to have a pretty decent knowledge of the game, so my main job with them would simply be observing as they filmed scenes and ensuring they did everything exactly right, rather than having to explain every single nitty-gritty detail to them.

  Just as I thought I was off the hook with having to see Jacob today, a familiar voice sounded in my ear.

  “Sorry I’m late.”

  I turned to see Jacob striding toward us, and when he saw me, he paused mid-step in shock, eyebrows sky-high. I smiled to myself at how much my presence was already bothering him. He probably thought I’d come here just to fill his coworkers in on the dog-stealing incident.

  “I’m glad you’re finally here, Jacob,” Bonnie said. “I’d like you to meet Nora. She’s our accuracy consultant for the movie. She’s assisting with script finalization, and when filming begins she’ll be observing every scene you shoot to make sure you’re doing everything right.”

  “Hi, Nora,” he said, extending a tentative hand. “It’s good to see you again.”

  I reluctantly shook it, affecting a tone of cool ignorance. “Hi. I don’t believe we’ve actually met before,” I said, refusing to let my face b
etray my true emotions.

  His eyes flashed with a vaguely offended expression, and I did a mental high-five. He deserved to be offended, and he deserved to think that he was so thoroughly unmemorable that I’d already forgotten him and all his bullshit.

  When we were done with the overall meet and greet, Bonnie looked at her watch again and sighed. “I have a meeting with the studio heads in ten minutes,” she said. “Nora, you can find your own way back upstairs to the writer’s room, right?”

  I nodded. “Of course.”

  “Good. I’ll see you later.”

  She strode away, and I began to make my way back into the main building. To my chagrin, Jacob followed me. I headed for the elevator as quick as I could, and I almost made it away from him in time, but he reached out and held the door with one hand before stepping in beside me. With a ping, the doors closed, and I was trapped in the elevator with him.

  “I know you remember me,” he said, looking down at me with those piercing grey eyes. “It was only a couple of weeks ago that we met.”

  “Met? Oh, I wouldn’t say we met,” I said. “Given the fact that you were sent to chase me down by my ex.”

  “I told you, he didn’t send me.”

  “Whatever. I really don’t care, Jacob. I don’t know why you’re even bringing this up. I just want to be a professional and do my job without thinking about you and all your garbage.”

  “I’m bringing it up because I’m sorry. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

  I gave him a sweet smile. “Same.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about bashing your skull in with a paper weight.”

  He rolled his eyes and chuckled. “But you’ve still been thinking about me, regardless.”

  “Please stop talking to me.”

  He leaned closer, putting one arm up on the elevator mirror so that I was forced to shrink back against the wall to avoid touching him. He leaned down with a smirk. “I don’t want to stop. And I don’t think you really want me to.”

  “You’re dead wrong about that.”

  “I’m not.”

  I affected a bored expression. “What makes you think that?” I said, trying to ignore my racing heart. He looked so good, even smelled good, and I cast my eyes down.

  “I think there’s something between us, despite the rough start we got off to,” he said, leaning even closer to me.

  “Rough start? Jacob, you took me on literally the worst date imaginable, which wasn’t really even a real date, and then you tried to steal my dog. That’s not a rough start. That’s basically a declaration of war. Even Mount Vesuvius erupted with less drama.”

  He pressed on despite my reticence. “I know you felt it too, when you were on top of me the other night. In that very sexy lingerie, no less,” he said, voice turning huskier.

  “I think you’re mistaking murderous rage with lust.”

  “Just give me a chance to make things right. One more date. A real date this time.”

  “Nope. I’d rather be stabbed in the neck with an Ebola-tipped screwdriver.”

  He chuckled. “C’mon. I know you want me. I can see it in your eyes,” he said softly. “It’s okay to admit your true desires. It’s healthy.”

  I scoffed. “You know you sound like a mentally challenged sex offender when you talk like that, right?” I said. “It’s not at all hot or sexy, like the movies might make you think.”

  He stroked a hand over my throat, ever so gently. “Then why are you so hot?”

  “I’m not.”

  “Your skin is practically burning up.”

  “The only thing that’s going to be burning up here anytime soon is your eyes when I spray you with mace,” I said, pushing him away.

  I expected him to frown and stop the elevator so he could storm off like a typical arrogant movie star who didn’t get his way, but instead he laughed. “You’ve got a real spark, you know? I like that.”

  “I don’t care what you like,” I said.

  The elevator finally came to a stop, thank god, and I stepped out.

  “By the way,” I said, turning back to him. “If you don’t stop pulling all this shit with me, I’m going to the media and telling them what you did to me. Dog stealing and all. I’m sure your fans would love to know the real Jacob Archer.”

  “That wasn’t the real me.”

  I waved a finger at him. “Shut it. I’m serious; I’ll get an interview this afternoon if I have to.”

  He held his hands up in defeat. “Fine. Got it. From now on, I’ll be professional all the way, baby.”

  I wanted to lecture him about calling me baby, but I decided against it. I didn’t want to waste any more breath on the handsome idiot.

  “Good. See you later,” I muttered.

  Then I walked away, and I tried to pretend my mind wasn’t chanting Jacob’s name with each beat of my clattering footsteps. Damn. He was right about everything he’d just said. Even after what he’d done, I still wanted him.

  Wanted him bad.

  Chapter Eight

  Jacob

  I rubbed the stubble on my jawline, wishing that Nora had actually slapped me just then like her flashing eyes had threatened, just so I could feel my face tingle from her touch. She was so fucking sexy, and that attitude of hers had only strengthened in the days since I saw her last. I suppose that was my fault.

  I’d tried to apologize, but she wasn’t having a bar of it….although I guess I hadn’t exactly tried all that hard. I needed to try again, get just one more chance to be alone with her. That probably wouldn’t be too hard, seeing as we were working together now, which I still couldn’t quite believe. I almost had a heart attack when I saw her standing there in the studio lot twenty minutes ago. It was such an amazing coincidence, and the sappy side of me saw it as somewhat of a sign.

  A stop sign, if you asked her. That’s exactly what she’d say; I already knew her insults and mannerisms when it came to me quite well.

  I spent the rest of the day fucking around on the set, getting to know the crew and my fellow actors, and Nora occasionally came down with the writers to hand out revisions for the first few pages of the script. At around five, she grudgingly headed over to me and waved her hand in my face.

  “Hey. Can you come with me?” she asked.

  “I wish,” I said with a smirk before grimacing. “Sorry. I promised I’d stop that, didn’t I?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Yes, you did,” she replied in a grumpy tone, although I could see a slight flash of amusement in her eyes. “Anyway, Bonnie wanted me to go over some character details with you. Just so we know you’re on the right page about Simmons’ life and personality.”

  “I’ve done my research, don’t worry.”

  “We’ll see. Come with me.”

  She led me back inside and upstairs, and she directed me into a room on the third floor. “Sit down,” she said, gesturing at a chair. She looked about as pleased to be stuck in a room with me as a snake would if it was stuck with a mongoose.

  “Walter Simmons is a very complicated character,” she began. “You’ve obviously picked up on that from reading the script—wait, have you even read it?”

  I snorted. “Of course I have.”

  “Good. Anyway, it’s the nuance of his character that we’re interested in exploring via your portrayal. So you need to capture that properly.”

  “Before you ask, I do know what the word nuance means in this context.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Good to know. So what do you know about him so far?”

  I explained everything I’d learned about the man I was playing in the research I’d done, and when I was done, Nora’s face remained blank, so I couldn’t tell if she was impressed or not.

  “I guess you do know a bit about him,” she finally said.

  “See? I meant it when I said I did my research. So you know what that means?”

  “What?”

 
; “That I mean what I say,” I replied. “So now you know I meant it when I said I was sorry about the other week.”

  “By that logic, you also meant it when you said women are inferior and serial killers are the most interesting thing in the world.”

  “Okay, I didn’t mean those things. But you get my point. I really am sorry.”

  She let out an exasperated sigh. “Jacob, I told you, I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “I know. But just hear me out, at least.”

  She was quiet for a moment, and then she nodded. “Fine. I’ll listen to you, but only so I can hear exactly what the hell even happened that night, because I’m still confused about some parts.”

  “Okay. I’ll start from the beginning.”

  “Good choice,” she said sarcastically.

  “I met James at my friend’s office. They work together. I was chatting to him, and he seemed pretty distraught over this demon woman he kept going on about. He told us all the awful things you supposedly did, including the fact that his dog was stolen.”

  Nora winced, and I soldiered on despite how much I hated making her feel like crap. “So later that night, Chris—that’s my friend—and I were getting drunk at a bar. We thought it might be funny if I tracked you down and took you on the shittiest date ever just to make you feel bad after everything you did. Allegedly did, I mean. And I was also going to steal the dog back. It never occurred to me that that weedy little prick James was actually making all this shit up.”

  “So the date…it was just a sort of joke, really,” she said quietly.

  I shook my head. “No. I mean, yes, I suppose that’s what it was in the first place, but I saw a picture of you beforehand, and I honestly thought you were the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Believe me, I wanted it to be a real date. Not just a joke.”

  “No you didn’t,” she said with a sigh. “You don’t need to lie to make me feel better.”

  “I did think that. I really did. Not lying. When I saw you, I wished like crazy that you weren’t such an insane harpy so I could actually pursue you properly. And then on our fake date, when I tried to steal the dog and you started yelling at me, I realized you weren’t actually insane.”