Page 5 of Love At First Fright
Heat shot through Rosemary and settled deep in her belly as she watched the clip, transfixed. She was acutely aware of every minute movement of the kiss, of Ellis’s rough grip around the dairymaid’s throat—not aggressive, but carnal in a way that was possessive yet gentle. It made her shiver. For a split second she allowed herself to imagine what it might be like to be on the receiving end of a kiss like that. To have those hands pressed gently around her throat. To be faced with so much…need.
“Well, what do you think?” Immy asked, interrupting the thought.
Rosemary had to swallow, her mouth suddenly dry.
“She can’t even answer, so clearly she agrees with us.” Dina smirked.
“Fine, fine,” Rosemary stuttered. “I will admit he’s somewhat attractive, if you’re into that earthy, rugged sort of thing.”
“Earthy. I’ll take it.” Immy laughed, her laugh quickly transforming into a yawn. “I think I’m gonna try and rest now. Sleep while the babies are sleeping and all that.” She smiled.
They all said their “love yous” and “see you soons” and said goodbye. It would be barely any time before they were reunited in person anyway; Rosemary was going to stop by Dina’s magical London café once she had arrived and checked in—Dina had a bespelled herbal tea that would cure her jet lag.
As she lay in bed that night, her room emptied around her, suitcases finally packed, Rosemary was aware that this was one of those Big Life Moments™. Just like when she’d left Georgia to come to New York, telling herself that this was the place that successful authors lived, now she was leaving her life here to fly halfway across the world to help produce the movie adaptation of her own book. Moving to New York had been a childhood dream; she wanted to make it big in the book world or die trying. Rosemary had wanted to be in New York so badly that her high school yearbook had her down as “Most likely to move to the Big Apple.”
Getting a movie made of her book—and before she even hit thirty—was definitely one of those author pipe dreams. Similar to when she saw her book on theNew York Timesbestseller list; it didn’t feel real yet. Rosemary wondered when it would. When they read through the script at the studio perhaps? Or maybe not until they arrived on set at the old English mansion where they would be filming?
She flicked off her light and sank down into her lavender-scented sheets.
“Please let this movie be a success.” She whispered it aloud, to whomever or whatever might be listening. It wasn’t just the deadline for the novel that kept Rosemary up at night. So few books that had their film rights optioned were made into films; the studio was taking a chance on her work. What if horror fans hated it, or what if readers of her book thought it was a terrible adaptation and wrote her off? If Rosemary wanted thechance to have more of her books made into movies to launch her career in Hollywood, thenWhen the Devil Takes Holdwould need to be a box office hit. And to do that, everything needed to be perfect. Which was precisely why Ellis Finch was haunting her. He wasn’t right for the part, and she was terrified that he was going to be the reason the movie would be a flop. The weight of it all was drowning her.
Even with all the anxiety-tinged thoughts bubbling through her, Rosemary fell asleep, her dreams filled with Ellis Finch’s face, the strength of his arms wrapped around her waist, pressing kisses to her neck, and lower.
2
“Who the hell does thisRosemary Shawthink she is?” Ellis chafed liquid chalk between his hands, phone on speaker, as he prepared for another set of deadlifts.
“See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you. I knew you’d take it personally,” his agent, Brody, said, his voice emanating from a speaker in the corner of Ellis’s home gym.
“It is personal. She told her agent she doesn’t think I’m the right choice for Alfred. Shouldn’t she have made that clearer during the original casting period?”
“It doesn’t matter, Ellis. Forget I told you.”
Ellis took out his frustration on the barbell, repped five conventionals, and went over to the mat to stretch. The mat that had been slobbered all over by Fig, now lying in the corner with her favourite carrot chew toy.
“You’re a menace,” he grumbled, patting her head as he lay down.
“What did you say?” Brody’s voice huffed.
“Not you. Why did you call me anyway, if it wasn’t toimpart the fun new revelation that the screenwriter doesn’t approve of my casting?”
“You remember our deal, Ellis? It’s time for another round.”
“Ah, blackmail, how I’ve missed you,” Ellis said. “Who’s the unlucky lady?”
“Jenna Dunn, I’m sure you’ve heard of her.”
“Can’t you think of someone more age appropriate?” Ellis groaned. He hated being made to look like the creepy middle-aged man dating younger women.
“You owe me one, dude.” God, he hated it when Brody called him dude. “I had to turn down that offer for a role inSoldier of Justice: The Reckoning,which would have been much more lucrative, and you know it.”
Ellis rolled his eyes. There was no arguing with Brody when he started talking money; the man was oblivious to anything that didn’t come with a price tag. This was just the dynamic of their relationship. Brody got Ellis roles in action movies that he didn’t want but would star in anyway, and then when Ellis made a load of money from said action franchise, Brody would hold that success over his head for years.
Or, in this instance, because Ellis had chosennotto take the more lucrative role, Brody would use that to make Ellis do what he wanted. Perhaps Brody thought he was subtle with his machinations, but these days Ellis was just too tired to bother fighting back.
He knew the dirt Brody had on him; it was the very foundation for their relationship. Ellis was never going to fight back. And after all, Brody had been his agent since he was nineteen; the guy did know a thing or two about how to make a star—as he’d told Ellis on many occasions.
“Fine. I’ll go on a couple of dates, but that’s it.” Jenna Dunnwas one of Brody’s clients, too, younger than Ellis by at least twenty years. He didn’t like the way dating a much younger woman would make him look in the press, but it was better than the alternative. Brody would stoop to threats if he didn’t get his way; he had done it before—many times. At least it would all just be for the cameras.
