“That’s enough, Asher,” he says wearily, rubbing a hand over his eyes and rumpling his dark hair in the process. “I’ve already said I won’t do it. You can tell my father that when you see him. I know he’s the driving force behind this scheme, and I’m sorry, but I’m just not prepared to play along.”
Asher’s hands tighten on the paper he’s holding, and a muscle twitches in his cheek as he tries and fails to hide his frustration. For a moment, I think he’s about to become the third person in this room to stand up and prepare to walk out, but, instead, he simply sighs as if he’s heard all of this before.
“Your father’s just worried about you, Jett, that’s all,” he says calmly. “As am I. We know how much this role means to you, but we also know you’re not going to get it if you keep on like this, being linked to a different woman every week. That might have been okay when you were starring in action movies and werewolf franchises, but it’s not going to fly with Justin Duval, and you know it. Which is why you need to clean up your act, like I said. You need to convince people that this latest liaison is the real thing.”
He nods in my direction, and everyone turns to look at me, as if I’m on stage or something.This would all be quite thrilling, really, if it wasn’t so mind-bendingly bizarre.
“You need to show the world that Miss Steele wasn’t just another one-night stand, or casual fling,” Asher continues, matter-of-factly. “You need to make them think you’re in love with her. And you need to start now.”
Chapter 9
“Idon’t want a fake girlfriend, Asher.”
Jett’s voice is low and steady, but something tells me he’s ever so slightly rattled. Which isn’t surprising given that what Silver Fox has just suggested is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my life; and I was there when Jimmy McEwan tried to claim his sheep, Edna, could sing, so I’m not unacquainted with the ridiculous, trust me.
This, however, makes Edna’s singing seem like a fairly reasonable proposition in comparison.
He wants Jett to pretend he’s in love with me?
So he can get a role in Macbeth?
Have I slipped into some kind of alternative universe here?
“You might notwantone,” Asher says smoothly, “But you can’t deny you need one. Those photos are all over the news now, and no matter how much you protest, Jett, you gotta admit, the optics aren’t good.”
He nudges Grace, who obediently holds up an iPad with the photo of me getting into my car filling its screen, and I wince again at the sight of my disheveled hair and shell-shocked appearance.
He’s right. “The optics” reallyaren’tgood. I should book a haircut. Or maybe just a full-body makeover.
“I don’t care what it looks like,” Jett snaps, losing patience. “My private life has absolutely nothing to do with my acting ability. Nothing. God, I’m so sick of this shit.”
He turns and strides over to the window, where he stands staring out at the view, his arms crossed defensively over his chest. I’d actually feel sorry for him, if I wasn’t too busy feeling sorry formyselffor getting mixed up in this madness. And, well, if he wasn’t a multi-millionaire Emmy-winning heartthrob, obviously.
“It does as far as Justin Duval is concerned,” Asher says, apparently unmoved by this outburst. “He’s a family man, Jett. You know that. And he doesn’t want your reputation detracting from his movie — which is why you know you have to do this. Come on Jett, think about it. I know your publicist has suggested this kind of thing in the past and you’ve always said no, but you knowIwouldn’t be suggesting it — and your father wouldn’t be suggesting it — if we didn’t think it was the only way to get Duval on side. You do want to at least be considered for that role, don’t you?”
Jett hesitates. I can practically feel his resolve wavering. I’m going to take that as my cue to leave.
“Okaaay,” I say breezily, picking up my bag. “This has been fascinating. It really has. But if you don’t mind, I think I’ll be off now and let you continue your weird conversation without me.”
With that, I give a cheery wave, then turn to leave the room… only to walk straight into the rock-hard chest of Leroy, who’s crept into the room surprisingly quietly for a man his size.
“Hey,” he says, grinning at me. “How’re ya doing? You good?”
I take a step back. He isn’t stopping me from leaving, but hehasspoiled my exit for a second time, and the few seconds it takes me to recover myself gives Silver Fox an opportunity to jump right in there.
“Maybe you two should take some time to talk about this,” he says, getting to his feet and gesturing to Grace to follow him. “Smooth out some details. Get to know each other a bit better.”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” says Jett bluntly, without turning around. “I don’t want a fake girlfriend. And, even if I did, I don’t think she’s the right person to do it. I mean, she tried to kiss me last night when I was almost passed out. I just don’t need that kind of complication in my life. Get an actress, if you must set me up with someone, not a fan.”
“Excuseme,” I say hotly, drawing myself up to my full height. All 5’4” of it. “I didnottry to kiss you. I was trying to make sure you didn’t choke to death in your sleep. And I amnota fan, either, Mr. Bigshot.”
Well, not if he keeps on like this, anyway.
At this, Jett finally turns around and looks at me. His hands are thrust into the pockets of his sweatpants, and I can’t tell whether he’s amused or annoyed, because that stupid beard of his is hiding most of his face.
“I think we’re done here,” he says quietly, nodding to Leroy, who moves to open the double doors behind me. “Can you drive her home for me, please, Leroy?”
Okaaaay, I guess we’re going with ‘annoyed’ then. Good to know.
