Typecast (22 page)

Read Typecast Online

Authors: Kim Carmichael

BOOK: Typecast
4.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Hello,” he answered on the second ring.

“It’s Ivy.” Poison Ivy. She grabbed her makeup bag out of her purse.

“I’m aware. I’ve had your number programmed in my phone since we sat together in undergrad chemistry.”

“Matt.” She wiped the smeared black mascara from beneath her eyes.

“I’m sure by now, you know the big fool I was going to make of myself in front of your family. Do you think we could not mention it?”

“But—” She fixed her eyes and added a bit of lip gloss.

“Please don’t say you’re sorry.” He cut her off. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to say yes because you felt you had to, and I’m glad I didn’t get to hear you say no. In a way, your boyfriend did me a huge favor.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Not anymore. She looked up to the ceiling and blinked. Matt didn’t produce tears, Logan did, and she had no right calling Matt to make her feel better.

“Whatever. If you don’t mind, I’m not quite ready for the ‘we’re still friends’ line. I’ll e-mail the files to you if you want to use them to help with your research.”

“Thanks.” She started the car and glanced at the directions Logan gave her.

“I have to get to work.”

“Okay, I’ll let you go.” The phone went dead, and she continued her journey, making the final turn onto a dirt road.

Her car bounced over the uneven road, but with a little more force on her accelerator, she made it up the ledge, slamming on her brakes at the sight of Logan standing right there. She tried to remind herself Logan was the fantasy, part villain, part superstar all rolled into one scrumptious package. The only problem was that he was more magnificent in reality.

With a shake of his head, he guided her to a parking place under a tree, keeping up with her car the entire time.

Her heart sped to such a point she had no doubt she would pass out, but she managed to get the car in park. For a second, she waited to see if he would open the door for her, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw him standing there with his arms crossed.

She opened the door.

“The crew is already here.” He jutted his jaw out. “I was waiting for you.”

“I’m right on time.” Her voice came out weak.

“Do you have everything you need?” He fired the question at her.

Fine, they had disposed of the niceties. “Give me a second to collect my things.”

“Well, hurry, people are waiting. I want to get this done with and get out of here.”

She grabbed her mess of a purse and got out of the car.

Even with his sunglasses on, she could tell he stared at her. Though she wanted to ask what was wrong, she knew the answer and simply stood without moving. She supposed flinging herself at him and asking him to forget what she’d said was also out of the question.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” He tapped his foot.

His question came out more as an accusation. She licked her lips and swallowed. “I suppose so.” After trying on about five different ensembles, she had opted for a high-waisted, black formfitting skirt with a white button-down, fishnets, and heels. Fine, she went for an outfit to show off any curves she possessed, hoping he would miss her. Maybe she was only good at getting him hard. Well, not anymore.

“Stay right there.” He stomped to his car.

Logan opened the trunk, pulled out some fabric thing, and then went to the passenger side to grab something else. While she waited, one of her heels sank into the dirt below her. Fine, heels weren’t the best option in the middle of a national forest, but they fit the outfit perfectly.

He returned and thrust a stack of papers to her. “Hold this for a moment.”

“Shouldn’t we get to Ryder?” She took the pile, glancing down at what appeared to be his mail.

“You don’t need to be doing anything but what I say.” He shook out the huge black piece of fabric and held it up to reveal a long black trench coat. “Put this on. It’s much more appropriate.”

Spring in Southern California wasn’t exactly long black trench coat season, even in the mountains. Actually, she wasn’t sure if any time in Southern California was long black trench coat season. She looked up at the clear blue sky. The birds literally sang around them in this little piece of wilderness. With him in his normal uniform of jeans and a button-down, she didn’t think he feared for her getting chilly.

Apparently, he didn’t even want to look at her, and not wanting to make any more of an issue, she allowed him to put the coat on her.

As she went to adjust her purse and his papers into the other hand, he took her purse, but notably did not take his items.

“I can’t have you dropping things all over.” He put her bag under his arm, slipped the garment over her, and came around her front where he proceeded to tie the belt, taking special note to cover her neck.

“Logan.” In the lined coat a sick heat overtook her, made worse by the way he walked away the second she said his name.

“Come on.” He pulled his hair out of his ponytail.

She followed, and he seemed to slow down enough for her to catch up.

“Take care of this.” He put the rubber band on top of the mail.

While she wanted to drop everything and shoot the rubber band at him, again she chose to remain silent and not take in how his hair wafted around him as he walked.

In an attempt to prevent her heels from sinking into the ground, she tiptoed and let Logan lead her through some trees.

“There they are.” A familiar, yet unfamiliar, voice greeted them.

Logan stopped at her side.

Ryder Scott.

Right in front of her stood Ryder Scott.

Her heels sunk, but for one shining moment, her troubles vanished.

Logan exuded gorgeous bad boy, but Ryder dripped Hollywood star. Dark, wavy hair framed a face that almost couldn’t be real. Every angle, every line, every curve of his features were perfectly proportional, as if he were created from some master plan and not born like the rest of the human population. As a teenager, his dimples had caused more than a stir, but today, with a few years behind him, they served to accentuate a gleaming smile and equally sparkling deep blue eyes.

By now, she thought she was beyond being starstruck, but then again she never stood less than two feet away from Ryder Scott.

Tall, lean, and dressed in jeans and a red T-shirt, he closed the distance between them. “How are you?” He gave Logan a pat on the shoulder before turning to her with his hand outstretched. “Hello, I’m Ryder Scott.”

A giggle escaped her throat. Yes, a full-fledged giggle with heated cheeks and everything. “I see that.” She put her hand in his. “I’m Ivy Vermont.”

“Ivy Vermont.” He kept hold of her and put his other hand over hers. “Ivy and
I.V.

“I have already discussed her unique initials with her at length.” Logan cleared his throat.

More like he said she was his IV. Rather than remembering that, she focused on Ryder.

“Maybe you discussed it, but I haven’t quite scratched the surface yet.” Ryder raised one eyebrow in her direction. “I have heard a lot about you.”

“You have?” Though no one had told a joke, and she didn’t really wanted to know what Logan had said recently, she giggled again.

“I suppose I don’t need to ask if you know about me.” He pulled her toward the chairs set up in a little clearing. “But I do have some new things that may surprise you.”

Logan walked between them, causing Ryder to let go of her hand, and took the middle chair. “Come sit down, Ivy.” He patted the chair next to him like he was calling his dog. “You look a little pale. Maybe you’re coming down with something. “

With no choice left, she took her seat. She was only coming down with a case of wanting to slap Logan across the face.

“Hold on.” Ryder held his hands up as if framing the scene. With a shake of his head, he took the empty chair, moved it to the other side of her, and sat down. “This is much better. Do you feel all right, Miss Ivy?”

The entire crew made their adjustments.

“I do feel as if I’m burning up.” She lifted Logan’s papers and used them as a makeshift fan.

“Do you think you have a temperature? Maybe we need to do this another day?” Logan thrust his hand onto her forehead. “You do feel a little warm.”

She opened her mouth to protest.

“Of course she does, she’s wearing the trench coat you insist on carrying with you everywhere like you’re waiting for some monsoon.” Ryder stood up and motioned for her to do the same.

She got up along with Logan.

“It’s very cold out here in the wilderness,” Logan noted.

“It’s at least seventy-five out.” Ryder wrinkled his nose and untied the belt. “You consider anything without room service the wilderness.”

The coat opened, bringing with it a waft of cooling, soothing air. “Oh, that’s better.”

“Yes, much better.” Ryder took the coat off her and returned it to its owner. “You have great style. Don’t cover it.”

She glanced between Ryder and Logan. While Ryder smiled, Logan glared at her.

“I think we should get to the interview.” An emptiness took residence right in the center of her chest.

They all returned to their respective seats.

“Do you need anything in your bag, notes or anything?” Logan held her purse up.

“You told me to keep it conversational.” Why he insisted on holding her bag when he wouldn’t hold her hand was beyond her.

“You’re right. I’ll keep this just in case.” He returned her bag to his lap and leaned over to Ryder. “I’ve been coaching Ivy. She suffers from stage fright.”

“Logan.” Well, until this moment, she was suffering from heartache and didn’t have enough room for stage fright. Now that he mentioned it, she ground her teeth together.

Logan motioned forward. “You bugged me incessantly to get his interview for you, and I pulled many strings to block out this time with Ryder, so get to your questions.”

Ryder pursed his lips.

“Fine.” In an attempt to take a breath, she bought some time by fiddling with his paperwork.

“She likes to hold on to my paperwork.” Logan nodded. “Get to work.”

“Since when?” She turned to him. “Only two days ago it was garnishes.”

“I thought you were interviewing Ryder.” He sat back.

“Are you taking too many vitamins today?” Fine, she hit below the belt.

“Are you trying to imply something, Ms. Vermont?” Without even making eye contact, he countered. “If you are, speak up, and we’ll address it right on camera.”

“Why don’t you speak, since you never gave me a chance to the other day?” She threw his papers to the floor. “Maybe we can use some of your techniques.”

“There was no explanation needed. I think everything you meant was right out in the open. No subtitles necessary.” At last, he turned and stared right at her. “What could you have said anyway? Didn’t you say it all?”

“I’m not sure all of your personalities heard me.” Her whole body shook. No way could she interview Ryder when all she wanted was to get away from Logan. “If you would have let me breathe, I would’ve told you that you were right. I am sorry about”—she stopped, not wanting to say anything that would end up on tape—“even hinting at that.”

At last, he truly looked at her.

“And about the garnishes, I was scared. Maybe I’m too scared of everything, but let me tell you, it’s terrifying when you get your dream. Where do you go from there? All I could think of was losing it.” Taking a breath, she forced herself to keep going. “But I did, and I’m not dead. Score one for me.”

“Ivy.” He stood.

“Do the interview yourself. I’m done with all of it.” Unable to turn and face the crew or Ryder, she walked straight toward the trees.

“You have my rubber band,” he called after her.

She rolled the accessory off her wrist, stopped, pulled it out, and shot the damn thing away. At one point, she would have kept it for a souvenir, but he had already left her with a broken heart.

“You always were an ass when you weren’t the center of attention.” Ryder elbowed Logan. “Maybe you should go get your girlfriend.”

“Maybe you should get her. Just follow the trail of bread crumbs and giggles.” Logan kept his focus on the trees but lost sight of . . . well, lost sight of his girlfriend.

“Next time, rather than wrapping her up and giving her your overdue bills, just lift your leg on her to mark your territory.” Ryder exploded into a round of laughter.

“It was never my bills that were overdue, lest we forget.” He crossed his arms. “Plus, no matter if I fenced off my territory, you still honed in.” Maybe his friend needed a little reminding of the past and the Erin fiasco.

“She understood us. Sucks being us sometimes, doesn’t it?” Ryder shook his head. “All the questions, the speculation, the accusations. Erin didn’t have an issue ’cause she was one of us. Plus, she was a good teacher.”

“Well, everything I know about fashion I know from Erin.” He tilted his neck from side to side, trying to stretch his tense muscles. Of anyone, his costar understood, but Ryder usually got the girl. However, neither of them got Erin. In his case, he was thankful.

“She gave the best lessons, with every piece of clothing she took off, she would tell us the designer.” Ryder broke out into chuckles. “Every girl I’m with thinks I’m a god for knowing such things.” Ryder’s laughter died down to knowing chuckles.

Other books

Writing Is My Drink by Theo Pauline Nestor
The Lost Hours by Karen White
The Alberta Connection by R. Clint Peters
The Raft: A Novel by Fred Strydom
How I Killed Margaret Thatcher by Anthony Cartwright
Angel's Kiss by Melanie Tomlin