Page 42 of And I Love Her

“It’s not just that. They sent me a rewrite where they kill Petra off in the first five minutes.”

Jake frowned. “What? The version I read has her trying to figure out what happened to Blaze.”

“Well, they changed it.” She sighed. “I didn’t like the direction of the story to begin with, but this just clinched it. Even worse, they want her to die in an alien attack while she’s naked in the bathtub. I mean, what the hell? Stupid as the alien thing is, if there were an invasion, Petra would run right into the fight. She wouldn’t be taking abubble bath. But they want my boobs hanging out while I scream and get stabbed by an alien tentacle. Probably less than four minutes in.”

Anger clenched his jaw. “I’m sorry, Marina. I didn’t know. I’ll talk to them.”

“No, don’t. I can’t work with that director anyway. If that’s how they’re going to end Blaze and Petra’s love story, I don’t want any part of it.”

“Neither do I.”

“I’m really sorry because you know I love working with you and the crew. If Dan were directing again, and we had a great script, I wouldn’t care how small my part was. But I hate what they’re doing to the story.”

“I’m not going to let them do this, Marina. No way.”

“My hero.” A smile entered her voice. “Look, I gotta go. Simon needs me to help him practice his stinging. Stay in touch, okay?”

“I will. Thanks for calling.”

As soon as he ended the call, Jake left a message for both Richard and Pete, the know-it-all young director who was taking over theFatal Gloryfranchise. Jake wouldn’t do the movie if they killed off Petra at all, much less while she was in the bathtub. A four-movie romantic storyline arc that finally gave the characters a hard-earned happy ending wouldnotend that way.

Wishing he could talk to Callie about this, he put his camera in a case, put on his fake glasses, and headed toward downtown. He was still guarded about his lack of a disguise, but even if someone did think he looked familiar, they wouldn’t imagine that Jake Ryan was back in Bliss Cove. At least, without either a film crew or an entourage. Or both.

He’d thought he would be self-conscious without the wig, worried even more about being recognized, but instead he was more at ease. He even felt at home, comfortable, like his time here wasn’t nearly the prison sentence he’d thought it would be.

Or maybe Callie had something to do with that. Just the thought of her made his blood run hot. No surprise there—she was a beautiful woman, and he was as intrigued by her body as he was by her sharp mind and musical laugh. But beneath the desire was a strange feeling—the anticipation of seeing her again and wanting to be near her.

Something almost like happiness.

He pulled open the door of Sugar Joy and breathed in the scents of fresh-baked croissants and coffee. The place was packed with a morning crowd, conversation and clinking silverware rising into the air.

From behind the counter, Eleanor waved him into the kitchen.

“Come in,” she invited. “I have your special order ready to go.”

Jake followed her through the swinging wooden doors to the kitchen, where two bakers rolled out dough and slid pans into the industrial ovens.

“Have a seat.” Eleanor indicated a stool at a wooden table and walked to a nearby coffee-maker.

Jake sat, not sure if he should be grateful for the privacy of being away from the crowd or wary of Eleanor’s intentions. He took off his glasses and set his camera on the stool beside him.

“Can I get you a croissant or muffin?” Eleanor poured a mug of coffee and set it in front of him along with a plate bearing two Chaos Cookies. “You can take the cookies with you.”

“No, that’s okay.” He bit into a cookie and groaned with pleasure. “You need to market these worldwide.”

“Maybe I will.” Her eyes twinkled with amusement. “So how did it go?”

She’d never let him get away with playing dumb, so he took another bite of cookie to stall for time. “Good. Uh, great, actually. We had a nice time.”

Eleanor leaned her elbows on the counter, curiosity sparking in her expression. “Where did you go?”

For some reason, he didn’t want to tell her about the movie theater. His hesitation made no sense—the Vitaphone was a town institution, and it wouldn’t have been a surprise that he’d taken Callie there. But the memory of sitting in the old seat with her at his side, their elbows bumping on the armrest, the clean scent of her filling his head…

Yeah, he wanted to keep that to himself.

“We went to the Mousehole.” At least that was true. “Talked about her work and mine. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Did she have fun?”

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