Page 8 of How Jenna Became My Dilemma

So, yeah, my body breaks into hives.

“What can I say?” My smile is sweet and innocent. “I’m so repulsed by the thought of kissing you that I involuntarily break out in hives whenever you come near.”

“I’m not thrilled about kissing you either, and that’s saying a lot for a man who has a reputation in the tabloids of being ‘extremely experienced with women.’”

“Well, for someone so experienced, you should’ve known not to eat a garlic-tuna-fish sandwich right before a kissing scene. I can smell your breath six feet away. Real impressive.”

“Trust me. You’re the last woman in the world I’m trying to impress. But I only ate the sandwich because I thought we were filming a different scene.”

“One kiss!” Quinton yells. “That’s all I need to make this meet-cute scene work, and then you two can go back to hating each other until episode five, when—unfortunately for all of us—you have to kiss again.” He looks at Cody. “So get a breath mint.” He looks at me. “Take some Benadryl. And let’s get this horrific kiss over with.”

* * *

“Tomorrow is the red-carpet premiere of episode one of The Promised Prince, where I’m sure you and Cody Banner will dazzle fans with your on- and off-screen chemistry. How could you not?” Nina’s smile holds, and the spark of recollection finally lights my brain. Her creepy, wide smile with her too-bright red lipstick reminds me of The Joker from Batman. Slap some white paint all over her face, and the resemblance is uncanny. “I mean, look at you two.” Her gaze bounces between us. “You’re the sexiest man alive, and you’re an international supermodel. I can only imagine how the sparks fly between you two.”

“Oh, there are sparks.” Cody sucks in. “That’s for sure.”

“So many sparks.” I hope Nina doesn’t notice the dryness behind my words.

“Is there any chance you two might become more than just costars? Maybe bring some of that explosive chemistry into your personal lives?”

“No.” Cody shakes his head.

Disappointment crosses over her face. “No?”

“No.” My answer is final and resolute.

CHAPTER TWO

CODY

Dallas waits on the curb as my stretch Benz pulls up to the red-carpet premiere of The Promised Prince. My publicity manager shines in a sleek black suit instead of his usual navy Dockers and collared white shirt. I swear his wife showed up at L.L. Bean one day and bought three-hundred-and-sixty-five sets of his signature outfit so he didn’t have to compromise his “look” for the sake of laundry. But at least for tonight, he has mixed things up a little.

Dallas Mikesell wasn’t my first choice for a manager, but he’s one of the best in the business at making a celebrity likable after they’ve fallen out of good graces, which is exactly where I find myself. Ten years ago, when I came on the scene, I made some stupid, youthful mistakes. I didn’t start as a serious actor who demonstrated maturity. I prioritized having fun over everything else and got the reputation as the guy who likes partying, drinking too much, uncommitted relationships, shameless flirting, and breaking women’s hearts. I top all of Hollywood’s playboy lists.

But a person can only sustain that kind of lifestyle for so long. In your twenties, it’s considered cute. In your thirties, you’re a bad influence on society. If I want my acting career to actually last, I need to turn the tide on how the public sees me. That’s where recently hired Mr. L.L. Bean comes in.

Dallas is step one toward image restoration.

“Are you ready to have hundreds of obsessed women scream at you?” My assistant, Julio, looks at me from across the car.

“It’s what I live for.” The languid expression on my face contradicts my words.

“Well, you look the part, and I’ll be waiting with the car once the event is over.”

I nod at Julio, then smooth my suit pants and tug on the matching pale-pink Gucci jacket—yes, pink. A fitting choice for my first full-blown romance movie premiere. Actually, this isn’t a movie. It’s a premiere for episode one. I’m working for television now—a Flixmart Original Series. This is all part of the image restoration. I’m transitioning into lovable acting roles that are crucial to making me seem charismatic and charming in my old age.

I’m thirty.

Apparently, that’s ancient in Hollywood.

So we’re in this strange transition phase from boy to man, even though I’m already a man…an old man.

Celebrity publicity is weird like that.

At least I get to play a prince in the show. And there are a few light action scenes. Those are the only redeeming things about this project. I’m used to starring in blockbuster movies where stuff gets blown up. I don’t portray men whose entire character is centered around falling in love. Why not cut off my manhood right now?

But that was the old Cody.

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