Page 7 of A Reluctant Boy Toy
“You think your father had anything to do with the deal?”
“Probably. Dad’s been active behind the scenes in St. Nacho’s for years.” It stood to reason he’d advocate forBlood Academyto film there since, through me, he was familiar with people on the production team. “It will be great to visit with him if we can find the time.”
“Make the time. He loves you, and he doesn’t hover.”
“No, he lurks,” I admitted. “But I think I like that better.”
“He wants to make himself available if you need him. He's great with your mother.”
“Despite the fact that he can’t stand her.”
That was nothing but the truth. Dad had stepped in when Mom started deliberately dropping the ball, and he’d saved me. Literally, he’d saved my life. Dad protected me. He got justice for me when I wasn’t even aware there’d been a crime. But why did I still need a goddamn buffer at twenty-five?
At my age, kids were starting careers, negotiating wedding plans, hitting their strides. Needing Dad to run interference with Mom and my agent and my lawyers made me feel hopelessly stupid. But I couldn’t step up to the plate to take it on all alone. Wouldn’t.
The work in front of the camera was hard enough for me without going toe to toe with the industry sharks. Plus, I had bitter personal experience with all the ways a person could be victimized. Anyone, no matter who they were, or how old, or how smart, could become a grim Hollywood statistic.
“Aww. Don’t give me the sad face.” Molly sighed. “We’ve talked about this. You’re an introvert in an extrovert’s game. You fight your nature every time you get in front of a camera, and you persevere. It’s okay to let someone you trust fight some of your battles for you. It’s a goddamn travesty your mom couldn’t be trusted to do that.”
“Mom’s got her own stuff.”
“Stuff,” she muttered darkly. “Her stuff is bullshit.”
Molly had a point. Mom had race car drivers, bullfighters, the occasional South American soccer star. When she got bored with men, or hurt by them, she shopped.
“On the other hand, she’s responsible for all this.” By which I meant my photogenic face.
Dad was a handsome man, but Mother’s turn at the genetic lottery wheel had yielded an extraordinary, ethereal mixture of fine bones; perfect, luminous skin; and unusual coloring that she’d passed straight on to me.
Pale hair, gray eyes, and skin that tanned if we were ever foolish enough to go out in the sun without sunblock. On a woman—on my mother—that kind of packaging was the stuff of Greek legends. On me…I’d been called a unicorn. I’d also been trophy hunted like one.
That was a subject I didn’t talk about to anyone except Dad and my lawyers. Ever.
Not even Molly knew how bad things had been.
We finished our breakfasts with the music of the birds and the sea as our soundtrack, and then it was time for the day to begin.
If I put on my shades, my AirPods, and my attitude like armor in preparation, no one really had to know why but me.
Chapter Three
Stone
Every timeI found myself on a film shoot, I vowed I would never do it again. Hours passed in excruciating boredom while we waited for the few minutes my animals were needed. Then the director had them go through take after take. We invariably grew tense and frustrated.
The scene they were shooting that night was a simple one. It called for the leading female werewolf character to hold up a lantern and lead Hades and Persephone into the woods. On its face, the action didn’t sound like a big hairy deal, but like everything in the movies there was a catch.
The actress, Madison Ling, was viscerally afraid of dogs. I don’t know whether she’d disclosed this fact before she was offered the role of female alpha werewolf Tiffany Xeng, and it wasn’t any of my business. My job was to keep my animals quiet and safe while the powers that be worked out the details.
Unfortunately, the more tension ratcheted up between Mads, her people, the director, and his crew, the more agitated Hades and Persephone got. They’d gone from their usual alert suspicion of humans to pacing back and forth inside their pen, and I knew the shoot would go south before they were even called to hit their marks.
I had to find Deacon and tell him so before things went any farther.
“What is it, Stone?” Deacon looked like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“All this tension is starting to get to my animals. I’m going to need to move them away and calm them down before I can—”
“Don’t you fucking dare.” With rare anger, he jabbed a finger at me. “I do not need drama from you too. Get the fuck back there, and get your goddamn dogs ready to go.”
