Wrong (Hollywood Bad Boys) Read online

  “I can imagine. I just hope I’m not a disappointment to them.”

  She smiled. “I’m sure they’ll love you. Everyone else seems to.”

  “Everyone except you,” I said with a grin. “Speaking of which, when are we breaking up?”

  She wrinkled her forehead in confusion. “Huh?”

  “Well, you’ll need to tell your parents we broke up eventually, right? Unless you plan on lying to them for all eternity.”

  She sighed. “Oh, right. I don’t know. I guess we’ll break up in a couple of weeks. I’ll say you cheated on me with an extra on the set.”

  “Hey! No, you can’t make me sound that bad.”

  “Okay. I’ll just tell them I dumped you because I met an even hotter actor and wanted him instead,” she said with a sassily-raised brow.

  I snorted. “You saying there are hotter guys out there than me?”

  She gave me a devious smile and didn’t answer that particular question; instead she pointed to a turnoff. “GPS says we need to get off here, then take the second left.”

  “Aye, aye, captain.”

  We pulled up at a sizable white house with dark green trim a few minutes later, and a tall brunette woman who looked to be around fifty or so came out to greet us, gushing effusively as she introduced herself. “Mr. Archer, wow. It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Brianna, Walter’s daughter.”

  “Jacob is fine,” I replied, grabbing her hand and shaking it. “This is Nora.”

  “Yes, we spoke on the phone earlier. Nice to meet you, Nora.”

  “You too.”

  Brianna turned and hollered at the front door. “Hey, everyone, he’s here!” she said before turning back to us. “I can’t believe how much you look like Dad. When he was young, of course.”

  “He was much better looking than me,” I joked, and she laughed as other relatives spilled out of the house—grandchildren, nephews, nieces, even a couple of very young great-grandchildren.

  They clamored around me, remarking on how I was such a good casting choice to play Walter, and finally Nora and I were ushered into the house, where Brianna had prepared an early lunch and coffee for us.

  “It’s such a shame he was gone by the time they decided to make this film,” she said with a sigh, sitting down with us in the living room. “He would’ve felt so honored to know that they were making a movie about him.”

  “Well, he deserves it,” Nora said. “His career was amazing. That comeback he made after his second spinal injury…wow. I don’t think anyone’s ever seen anything like it.”

  The family gathered around and shared photos, anecdotes and even home videos of Walter, and soon over three hours had flown by. Getting to know the Simmons family like this was an amazing experience, and it had been a great idea for Nora to arrange this meeting. I felt like I knew the football legend quite well despite having never met him, although I still wasn’t sure what exactly I needed to change in my actual portrayal of him. I felt like there was something missing in my performances thus far, some emotional element I needed to add, and that piece of the puzzle fell into my lap fifteen minutes later when Brianna was going through another photo album with black and white photographs.

  “That’s Charles,” she said, pointing to a middle-aged man posing next to a young Walter. “He was a bit of an enigma, wasn’t he?”

  “Charles who?” I asked.

  She gave me a funny look, and then she sighed. “Oh, of course. Sorry. I suppose this isn’t exactly on his Wikipedia page, is it? And it’s not something he discussed much in interviews,” she said. “But Charles was my father’s father. Supposedly, anyway.”

  “I thought Walter was adopted.”

  She nodded. “He was, but it’s complicated. His mother was…well, you’ve heard what she was like. But the father wasn’t aware of her pregnancy, and then she left Walter to be adopted out when he was born. He never knew exactly who his father was, but this man—Charles—came and found him when he was twenty-two and told him he was quite sure he was his biological father. They had a relationship up until Charles died when Dad was around twenty-six.”

  “Wow. I had no idea,” I said, eyebrows puckering.

  “I guess not many people do. I think that part of his life was what inspired him to do so much with it, although a lot of people seem to think that motivation came primarily from his childhood illness.”

  “Can you elaborate?” I asked. Everyone knew Walter Simmons had suffered from lung problems as a child, but I’d never heard anything about his biological family.

  “Sure. His illness and later recovery certainly motivated him, of course, but for so long he never knew who his real father was, and I think because of that, he felt a need to be great, be an overachiever, to sort of show the man what he was missing if he was still out there somewhere. And then when he met Charles, that need was still so ingrained in him that he kept going. Also, he was never entirely sure if Charles was really his father, so I suppose that kept his drive going too.”

  “Was he?” I asked. “Was Charles his father, that is?”

  Brianna shrugged. “This was all before the times of DNA testing and whatnot. He never knew for sure. But Charles never asked for anything other than to see Walter every so often, and they did share the same facial features. We think he was almost certainly his father. I suppose the only way to truly know would be to dig them both up and test them, but we wouldn’t do that.”

  “Of course not. Must’ve been hard for Walter, though, never really knowing for sure.”

  She nodded. “I’m sure it was, but he never really spoke about it,” she said.

  “I can’t believe I’ve never heard this before,” Nora said. “I must’ve seen at least four different documentaries about Walter, and the only mention of his childhood was about him growing up here with his adoptive family, and his early sicknesses.”

  “Honestly, no one ever really asks us anything about his childhood, except about the sickness,” Brianna said. “The movie writers for Fourth Down certainly didn’t ask us much about him. I think they spent most of their time interviewing his old teammates and friends who are still alive.”

  I turned to Nora, who looked about as surprised as I did. Just as it was in the documentaries Nora mentioned, the only mention of Walter’s family in the movie script was his adoptive family and his childhood health issues that they’d tirelessly helped him fight, and there was nothing about this Charles man at all. Fourth Down was mostly set in Walter’s later life, not his adolescence, so his upbringing wasn’t all that important in the grand scheme of the storyline, but still, it seemed a huge oversight on the studio’s behalf that they hadn’t discovered or mentioned something like this.

  It explained why I’d always felt like there was some sort of strange missing link in his story, though, and now I knew the truth behind his motivation to achieve great things in his life—the whole ‘childhood illness’ thing had always seemed so clichéd and hackneyed. Knowing the real story behind what drove Walter would aid me greatly when I played him; it would help me tap into more emotional aspects of the character that hit quite close to home for me. I’d grown up without my real father too.

  I knew exactly what it was like; that relentless drive to prove myself, to prove that someone would want me, even if my father never did. To prove I was good enough, to prove I was worth something, chase away that dark sense of emptiness that always lurked in the back of my mind.

  After another few minutes, Nora looked at her watch and gasped. “It’s nearly five! We’ve imposed on you for far too long, Brianna. We’ll get out of your hair now.”

  “It’s been a pleasure having you here,” Brianna said, smiling as we stood up. “I can’t wait to see how the movie turns out.”

  After we’d said our goodbyes and thank yous, we got back in the car and headed slightly farther west to Nora’s parents’ house.

  “I can’t believe how late it is,” Nora said, anxiously twisting her hair in her hands. “Althou
gh this is probably good. It means we won’t have to stay and keep up our act for too long.”

  I grinned. “You don’t think it’s wrong to lie to them about having a boyfriend when you don’t?”

  “Of course I do! I just…she just put me on the spot, and the lie came out before I could stop it.”

  “Well, I suppose it’s only a small lie in the grand scheme of things,” I said. “And I suppose they’ll be happy to see their daughter dating such a great guy.”

  She snorted. “Great, huh? You’re so arrogant.”

  “I’ve got the goods to back it up.”

  “And the serial killer literature, apparently.”

  “You’re never going to get over that, are you?” I said.

  We both laughed, and then Nora’s face took on a more serious expression. “I can’t believe what Walter’s family told us back there.”

  “Yeah, neither can I. I had no idea.”

  “I can’t even imagine what it would be like not knowing who my father was,” she said. “I guess I’m really lucky. Grew up in a totally normal family with both parents. Boring and average, but at least I knew where I came from.”

  “Yeah, you are lucky,” I said with a tight smile.

  She must’ve sensed that she’d hit a nerve, because she frowned and sat up straighter. “Did I say something wrong?”

  I shook my head. “No, no, nothing wrong. I just wish I’d grown up ‘boring and average’ like you described.”

  “You didn’t?” she asked softly.

  “Not really. Similar boat to Walter, only my father never came to find me like his apparently did.

  “Shit. I’m so sorry. That must’ve been difficult.”

  I nodded slowly. “Yeah. Grew up in a trailer park in Riverside with my mom. My father left her when she was pregnant and she didn’t really have much money. Couldn’t work while she was pregnant, you see—too sick. Then once I was born, she had to take care of me, and not many places want to hire a young single mother.”

  “That’s awful. Your poor mom,” she said. Then her eyebrows puckered. “For some reason I thought you grew up in Beverly Hills.”

  I nodded again. “That’s what my Wiki page says. My agent said it would be a good idea to invent a fake backstory. Apparently people love underdog stories in movies, but not so much in real life. They want their celebrities to be larger than life, all glitz and glamor. Growing up in a trailer park doesn’t really scream ‘glamorous’ at all.”

  I’d never told anyone this stuff before, but Nora was just so easy to talk to. Besides, I knew she wasn’t the type to go to the media and put me on blast, letting everyone know my real history. She wasn’t like that; wasn’t the type to exploit someone else’s story for personal gain, so I knew it was safe to tell her almost anything.

  On top of all that, I wanted her to know me. I wanted her to know all the gritty details of my life up until now, because maybe—just maybe—she’d accept me and actually have some sort of romantic interest in me again once she’d come to know what I was about.

  Some things were better left unsaid for now, though. She didn’t need to know everything just yet. After all, I didn’t want to scare her off. It’d been hard enough simply convincing her to be friends with me.

  “That’s so unfair,” Nora said. “You shouldn’t have to lie or feel ashamed about where you came from. So what if you didn’t grow up in a mansion on the right side of town? You turned out pretty great either way.”

  “Oh, so you finally admit it. I am great,” I said with a teasing smirk.

  She stuck her tongue out. “Just when I think you’re acting like a human, you turn on the old Archer anti-charm again.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, maybe it’s a defense mechanism. Stops people from asking me too many questions.”

  “Sorry if I was asking too much.”

  “Oh, no, I didn’t mean you,” I replied. “You can ask me anything.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. Ask me something else.”

  “Okay. Where’s your mom nowadays? I’m sure she must be proud of you.”

  “She died a few years back,” I said, keeping my eyes on the road ahead. “Skin cancer.”

  “Shit. I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah, well, I gave her the best I could while she was still alive, so there’s that,” I said. “She gave up her life to take care of me when I was young, and I know I’m lucky because of that—some people never have parents who care at all—so as soon as I started making my own money, I did what I could for her.”

  “That’s really nice,” Nora said softly. “She was lucky to have you too.”

  “She never expected anything. Even when I scored the spot on Code Grey, which came with a million dollar bonus per year—just the bonus!—she still didn’t want to move into my big house. Just wanted something small and cozy where she could live with her two cats. She loved those animals. Gotta admit, I’ve always had a soft spot for them too, because of her. If I didn’t work so much, I’d totally adopt five.”

  “Ah, so there’s the fundamental difference between us,” Nora said. “I’m a dog person. You’re a cat person.”

  I grinned at her. “No, I like dogs too. All animals, actually. I donate a certain amount per year to animal charities in Mom’s name, in memory of her.”

  “That’s really sweet,” Nora said, smiling back at me. “But so much for Hollywood’s resident bad boy. More like ‘animal lover extraordinaire’. Doesn’t quite have the same ring to it, does it?”

  “No, hence all the PR where they make me look like a total prick. Although I suppose I do a pretty good job of that on my own sometimes.”

  Nora laughed. “Tell me about it. Although here’s an idea: you like cats, so you could be ‘pussy lover extraordinaire’ instead. That sounds more bad boy-ish, and people don’t have to know it’s about cats and not the other…ahem…the other kind of ‘pussy’.”

  I chuckled. “Yeah. Good idea. Anyway, what about you? I want to hear more about this incredibly boring childhood of yours,” I said.

  She smiled. “Well, my parents got married when they were twenty-five. Had me six months later.”

  “Shotgun wedding, huh?”

  “Yep. Then they had my brother three years after that. Brian. He lives over in London now.”

  “Cool. So did you grow up here in Santa Barbara?”

  “Yep. Always lived in the same house. Went to college here and everything.”

  “And who got you interested in all the sports stuff?”

  She gave me an embarrassed grin. “Dad. I was a real Daddy’s girl. He loves sports, especially football, and he wanted to pass that love on to my brother. But Brian never cared. I did instead. So I became his little sports guru, and he taught me everything I know. We still try to catch games together when we can.”

  “That’s cute,” I said. “You’re lucky to have a dad like that.”

  “Yeah, I am,” she said. As I changed gears, I noticed she had goosebumps on her arm as it edged closer to mine after a small bump in the road knocked her slightly sideways.

  “Cold?” I asked.

  She looked down at her arm, and I didn’t miss the telltale blush creeping over her cheeks. “Oh. Yeah. We hardly ever have weather like this,” she said hurriedly.

  “True.”

  “Oops, we missed my parents’ street,” she said, whirling her head around. “Can you do a U-turn?”

  I pulled the car around and then took a right into Cresta Avenue, my pulse suddenly racing as I realized what was about to happen. Any minute now, I was going to meet Nora’s parents, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I was nervous. I tried to remind myself that it wasn’t real—it was just a fake relationship for Nora’s benefit—but try as I might, I couldn’t.

  This was real.

  All too real.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Nora

  My heart raced with a mixture of excited anticipation and trepidation as Jacob pull
ed the car to a stop in my parents’ driveway. I felt bad for lying, but like I’d explained to Jacob a moment ago, the lie had simply fallen out of my mouth before I could stop myself, and it had snowballed from there. Mom was always harassing me about my love life, and it was like something inside me had just snapped earlier. If I’d admitted to her that I was once again totally single, she would’ve given me that sad motherly sigh which blatantly communicated all her longings for weddings and grandchildren which weren’t even on the horizon. Every woman knew that sigh, and I was damn well sick of it.

  Maybe seeing me with Jacob would shock that sighing ability right out of Mom.

  “Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad!” I said, waving and dashing over as the two of them headed out the front door, obviously having heard the car pull up.

  “Hello, darling!” Dad said, wrapping me in a bear hug before letting Mom hug me too.

  “You look tired,” Mom said, fretting over me. “Why are you here so late? We were expecting you in the early afternoon.”

  “I’m sorry, we got caught up with work stuff,” I said, gesturing to Jacob, who was walking up to us now, sunglasses still on.

  He removed them, and my mother immediately gasped. “Dr. Easton West!”

  “No, Mom, his name is Jacob,” I said. “Jacob Archer. We met on the set of the sports movie I’m working on at the moment.”

  “But you can keep calling me Dr. if you like,” Jacob said with a grin. “Makes me feel smart.”

  He extended a hand to my father, who firmly shook it. “Jacob, nice to meet you. I’m Roy, and this is my wife Anne,” he said. “I’m sure Nora’s told you all about us.”

  “She has,” Jacob replied. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. I hear you’re a big football fan.”

  Dad nodded. “I am. You?”

  “More of a baseball guy, actually. Nora has to stand there on the set and yell at me until I throw the football properly when we film scenes. I’ve got the coordination of a baboon, apparently.”

  “I don’t yell,” I said, nudging him with my elbow. “I simply advise.”