Page 69 of Take 2
A round of applause arises as she smiles from ear to ear, then says, “Now eat, drink, and dream cast your movies while you watch the big show.”
I clap lightly with my fingers woven around the stem of my glass.
“Mira!” James says. “This is so great!”
My jaw is slack as I turn to James. “Yeah, it is!”
“So bubbly is champagne, Lisa, me, and nowyoutoday?”
My nose wrinkles as a giddy smile breaks out on my face. “Possibly the best Oscars ever.”
“Until you win one.”
“Well, yes, that.”
When Lisa gets around to us, I give her a big hug and congratulate her. “I’m so happy for you. And me, but mostly you!”
She laughs. “You can be happy for yourself, too. I’m definitely wiggling into relationships with bigger producers and directors now. It’s mostly due to a screenplay I recently sold for a new client. You’d love it. It’s raw and emotional, and I’m looking forward to introducing you to the writer, but of course, he’s late.”
“Can’t wait forthatmovie then.”
“It’s total Oscar bait. I’m so excited for it.”
“Wow! Well, I’m low-key jealous that it wasn’t me who did that for you but thrilled for you and to be working with you.”
“Yours is coming, Mira.” Her gaze jumps over my shoulder, and her face lights up. “Oh, there he is.” She waves, and I turn around to meet her new star client. “Mirabelle Sheridan, this is Preston Greene.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ourdaydidn’tstartas early as yesterday did—the drive was much prettier and also more terrifying with sunlight—but I’m still tired when we get back to Monaco. As it turns out, we had enough pent-up desire that it takes more than two or three romps to satisfy it. When we crash into my hotel room, and he pins me to the bed, I escape Preston’s kiss to accuse him of trying to keep me away from his set today.
He nips at my neck. “What are you really getting out of the shoots?” His teeth scrape my earlobe. “I’ll get Rafi to commit to a dinner. That’ll be better for you anyway.”
I sigh as he jumbles my thoughts. “I hate missing the opportunity to be at a film shoot.”
“But this way”—he kisses my jaw—“you get to rest …” I think he hears my eyes roll. “And work on your own stuff.” A more reasonable thing to tempt me with. “Then you’ll be refreshed to go out tonight, and I won’t have to feel bad about keeping you awake all night.”
A hand pressing up my thigh leaves me wondering what I was arguing about. “You’re telling me my day can just be sex, napping, writing, a business dinner, and more sex?”
His finger hooks the waistband of my panties. “Does that sound so terrible?”
“Hmm … I guess not.”
My apprehension melts in the heat of our joint desire, then sleep jumps at the opportunity to seize me before I can get on my computer.
Waking up in the middle of the day is as luxurious as the first-class seats on the flight here. When was the last time I did this? Any of this. It’s almost enough to trigger an identity crisis. Since this is mostly a vacation for me, I suppose I can accept it. This would be a great time to catch up with James, but it’s too early in California. It would be solid revenge for his call in the middle of the night, but sex has me feeling generous.
Instead, I check emails, assure Ashleigh I’m still alive, and open the screenplay I’ve been playing with in my spare moments. Of course, I have options that are already complete to talk to Rafael about. Quite a few, actually. How did I end up with so many finished screenplays? The soreness between my legs reminds me my lack of a sex life probably had something to do with that.
If this continues, I guess my productivity will take a dive. Can this continue in LA? The thought forms a pit in my stomach. Lying to myself that it’s hunger, I head down to the pool for lunch with a book in hand for a chance to shut my brain off.
After enjoying lobster and avocado salad—which is amazing, but not better than Preston—I settle onto a lounge chair and look out at the view of the Mediterranean from the seventh-floor deck.How is this my life?
Well, it’s not really. It’s like watching a movie—an escape that will end and give way back to reality once the credit roll. Because nothing about this can be real life.
My phone vibrates, and my sunglasses slide down my nose as I look at the message.
I Wish I Was Fucking Preston Greene:Hope you’re having a nice day.
