Say It Sexy (7 page)

“Yep.” Erica leveled off her script with a sharp smack against the tabletop. “The dorms get pretty loud, and she can’t afford to get sucked into that scene. She’s convinced that living in the dorms would mess up her studies and trash her dreams of becoming a veterinarian. Besides, her house is well within walking distance, and she enjoys the exercise.”

“Girl should have amazing legs then.” For the first time that day, Garrick looked at me. Then he pushed back a bit from the table and craned his neck aside to glimpse around the table. “Are your legs amazing, Gwen?”

I flushed and scooted closer to the table, tucking my legs farther underneath me, away from his prying eyes. But darn if I didn’t wonder if he liked what he saw, even if my legs were currently hidden by my tailored black slacks.

“Let’s begin.” Lyle opened his copy of the script, scribbled and re-scribbled over so much that I could hardly tell the difference between his text and the computer’s. “Lacey is in her room studying, dressed for bed. The time is nine p.m. and she’s quizzing herself on the last of her vocabulary. We can skip to the part where she hears music coming from the house next to hers. Page three.”

Everybody flipped to the right page.

“She gets out of bed, throws on some clothes and shoes, and marches over to their garage, which is opened a few inches for fresh air. She knocks. Payton opens the side door, revealing Mitch and Benny seated in their practice room behind him. Gwen, if you would…”

“Hi,”
I said, reading Lacey’s first line.

“Well, hello to you,”
Garrick purred in his lewdest voice.

“I moved in next door a few weeks ago. My name’s Lacey.”

Erica raised her finger. “The next few lines are said back-to-back with no beats in between until Lacey speaks again. These three boys have practically grown up together and know each other’s patterns of conversation inside and out. Feel free to put personality into it.”

PAYTON
: “Aw.”
Garrick, as Payton, pouted.
“What happened to the old stoner dude?”

MITCH:
“Yeah, we loved the old stoner dude.”

With just that one line, my worries about Shane’s ability to handle his part waned slightly. He actually didn’t sound that bad.

PAYTON
: “He was an awesome dude.”

When he spoke, Tyler sounded wistful.

BENNY:
“That dude gave us free weed.”

PAYTON:
“Dude.”

MITCH
: “Dude.”

BENNY:
“Duuuude.”

Tyler added just the right amount of drawl and lazy nod to his words.

Erica laughed and clapped her hands.

LACEY:
“As I was saying. I’m your new neighbor.”

PAYTON:
“I’m guessing there’s no chance of us bumming hits off you then?”

I donned a sour smile.

LACEY:
“Not a single one, duuude.”

PAYTON
: “Well, I’m Payton.”

LACEY:
“Nice to meet you. I think...”

PAYTON
: “This is Mitch.”

Lyle nodded. “Good. Now as you all know from reading the book, Mitch is bi-sexual. Erica?”

“Yes,” Erica said. “But Mitch keeps that close to the vest, posing as a straight advocate for homosexual rights rather than a member of the community itself.”

Lyle gestured to Shane. “Shane, how would you describe your character?”

Shane looked like a deer caught in a fence for a moment, but answered slowly and clearly. “From what I’ve read? He puts on a brave face when a situation calls for it, but he still feels like a coward or a fake. He suffered from abuse as a child. He’s all smiles on the outside, but he’s hurting pretty bad inside.” Something resembling distress flickered across Shane’s face just then, though I was probably imagining it.

“Nailed it,” Erica said. “Each of your characters has some significant hurdles they’ll have to overcome throughout the show. We’ll focus more on Payton and Lacey in the first half of the season.” She looked at Garrick and me.

Lyle picked up where Erica left off. “The second season will focus on Mitch’s history of abuse and Ben’s drug and alcohol addiction.”

From the corner of my eye, I sensed movement. I looked up. Shane’s face looked blank. And even though he was still looking at his script, it looked like Tyler’s fists had tightened a bit when Erica mentioned Ben’s drug and alcohol addiction. That’s when I vaguely remembered hearing the word addiction connected to Tyler Tapia’s name. He didn’t look like a junkie, but outward appearances meant nothing in this business. Actors were called actors for a reason.

Diffusing the tension, Shane lifted his script an inch off the table. “The first book covers Lacey’s first year, right?” he asked, and everyone seemed to relax. “And the band’s rise to the top?”

“That’s right.” Erica sat back and swiveled in her chair. “If the show does well, I’m hoping they’ll renew the contract for the second season, which we’ll base on the second book.”

“Speaking of the band. I should probably warn all of you that I can’t sing a lick,” Garrick mumbled. “Friend of mine will be dubbing my singing parts.”

He glanced at me, as if expecting me to make a snotty comment. It made me frown. I couldn’t sing a lick either and even if I could, I hated to think that he or any of the others expected me to be so catty. Obviously, however, in voicing my concerns yesterday, I’d given them reason to think that. My shoulders drooped slightly but I straightened them. I’d made the mess. I’d have to clean it up.

“Yes, yes,” Lyle said. “We’ve got a great band connected to the show. Can’t wait to hear them. Now, moving on.”

We spent the next two hours reading through the season’s episodes with Erica dictating, explaining, and correcting anything mispronounced. I was hoping my tension with Garrick would dissolve after a good, bonding read-through, but in fact, it thickened. With every scene that was filled with wit and rancor between Lacey and Payton, the animosity between us escalated.

When the morning was finally over, Lyle called lunch. Thank God. “That wraps up Episode Three. You’re all free to break for lunch now. We have catering in the lobby. Meet back here in thirty. Or forty. Did I allot forty for lunch?” he asked Erica, but Erica had already scuttled from the room, and Lyle was left guessing what was on the agenda.

His voice trailed off, as we all filed out into the hall.

Garrick strolled by me, and I caught him by the arm, as Shane and Tyler ambled on ahead of us. “Hey,” I started uneasily without a clue as to what I was going to say. All I knew was that we couldn’t go on this way. It was bad mojo and would transfer to the screen.

“Hello.” He made a big show of checking behind him, as though I might be talking to someone else. “Are you lost? Is the apocalypse coming? Because I can’t come up with another reason why we’d be having a conversation.”

I sighed. “Can I talk to you? Do you have a moment?”

“Sure. I’ll pencil you in.” He patted himself down, checking all his pockets. “Damn, I’ve misplaced my day planner. How may I help you?”

I massaged my temples, wishing I had snatched the ibuprofen off my dresser on the way out this morning. “Please, spare me the sarcasm. This is difficult enough.”

“You’re not breaking up with me, are you?” he asked with insufferable sincerity despite the laughter in his eyes. “It’s because I’m not attractive, isn’t it?”

I wanted to smack him. “I swear, if I had duct tape...”

“Oo, kinky.”

“Listen,” I said, “before you say anything else, I want to apologize for my behavior yesterday. That was really rude of me, and I hadn’t even met you yet. I’m not in the habit of pre-judging people before I’ve met them. So…I’m sorry.”

He blinked, having the decency to look amazed. “Really?”

“Yes.” I wilted. “Sometimes, I come off too strong, too judgmental, when really, I’m just trying to make sure things go right. I’m under a lot of pressure lately, not to mention I’m way intimidated by you and Erica. I didn’t want Erica to think I was some stupid little fan girl. She’s published and unbelievably successful at twenty three, only one year older than me.”

“Wow. Yeah. You’re a real spinster. Better step it up before you’re in your grave.”

I smacked him in the arm, and admittedly, a thin smile came to my lips. In addition to being super hot, he really was equal parts adorable and aggravating. “Just listen. I didn’t mean what I said about you not being capable of taking on anything other than an action role. It was highly unprofessional, and I hope it won’t come between us on set.”

“Wow, I kind of like you better when you’re honest.” He grinned, and I swore for a second he looked like he had a juicy secret that he could barely stop himself from telling me. I immediately grew wary. He rocked back on his heels, his hands casually lodged in the front pockets of his stonewashed denims. “Apology accepted.”

“Really?” I scrutinized his every feature, waiting for him to cry
psych.
But he didn’t. “I didn’t expect it to be that easy.”

He gave me a noncommittal shrug. “Well, to be honest, it didn’t bother me that much.”

Stunned, I blinked. “It didn’t?”

“No.” He turned that barbed smile on me again. I’d just waltzed right into his trap. “On the contrary, it was kind of nice to meet a girl who didn’t want to jump my bones the first chance she got.”

A spark of unwanted jealousy ignited in my chest. “I take it you don’t meet many of those types of girls.”

“Almost never. That is, unless I search YouTube and stock up on slanderous comments and raucous hate mail. Those are mostly from guys, though, the jealous shmucks. The tabloids are typically pretty truthful and kind.”

Having had my close call with bad publicity thanks to Randall and taking into account the care I exercised to stay out of the paparazzi’s path, I only wished I could say the same. “Oh. Must be nice.” I cocked a brow. “I wonder what
truth
they’d report about how you got that black eye.”

Something uneasy—like guilt and anger and regret, all rolled into one—flickered over his face. “Well, with all those girls trying to jump my bones, there’s bound to be a jealous boyfriend lurking about.”

His tone was joking but he wasn’t as relaxed as he’d been. I could have pounced on his change in mood. Tried to pick at an obvious wound. But I didn’t want to. We’d already wasted enough time thanks to the way I’d insulted him yesterday and besides, God knew I had enough secrets of my own to want to go poking at others’. Plus, there was truth in his tone, too. Whatever had happened, he’d been deeply affected by it. “Sounds wonderful,” I said lightly.

He’d been watching me carefully, but at my joking response, Garrick’s expression cleared and his body relaxed slightly. “It’s actually horrible,” he countered with a theatrical scoff. “I can’t go anywhere or do anything without being recognized and half-mobbed. Not to mention all the gifts that come via UPS.”

I clucked my tongue at him. “Poor you, being so famous.” I rolled my eyes.

“Right? Life would be so much simpler if the world hated me the way I presumed you did.”

I sighed. Okay, fine. So maybe we weren’t calling a truce here. And if he was going to continue to dish it out… “Girls must be throwing themselves at your feet.”

“Women actually, especially the more experienced ones. Rawrr,” he said.

“Rough life, I’m sure,” I practically growled.

Garrick’s eyes danced with dare, as he leaned closer. “You’re regretting apologizing to me, aren’t you?”

“With every fiber of my being.” But not really. I was actually having to work hard to hold back a laugh. I was used to working with men who were cocky, and Garrick was certainly that. But he had such a charming, playful side to him, and he obviously had no problem poking fun at himself and the whole fame game thing. For a man as sinfully good looking—and yes, talented—as him, it was refreshing.

And intriguing. It made me wonder what other hidden depths there were to him.

He threw his head back and let out a sincere laugh. He was really having loads of fun with me. “Too late to turn back now,” he said. Indolent steps backward took him down the hall in the direction of the lobby and lunch. “I’ll win you over one day, Gwendolyn, one way or another.”

“Yeah, sure you will.”

“You’ll fall just like they all do. It’s inevitable, doll face.”

I drew my eyebrows together, as though that were the silliest thing I’d ever heard. “Garrick Maze, I wouldn’t fall for you if you were the last eligible man on Earth.”

“Even if I was younger than you?” He grinned.

I’d been playing at keeping up the animosity between us, but at his implication, I narrowed my eyes.

Oh no, he didn’t.

I was not older than him.
Was I?

“Garrick, Gwen.” Shane poked his head around the corner at the end of the corridor. “You better get in here before we lick the cheese tray clean.”

“Thanks, Shane,” Garrick hollered, patting down his perfectly flat stomach. “Man, I’m starving. Time to eat more fruit and carbs. Shall we?” He stuck his arm out, expecting me to take it. “Our public needs us.”