But not right now, I thought, ending the kiss. We still had work to do. Work which could be playtime too.
She brushed her fingers across her lips, blinking, smiling at me. “Can I ask you something?” she questioned.
“Of course.”
“I get why you went through all this trouble this week to avoid acting with Layla again,” she said. “I don’t know exactly what happened, but…”
“But you saw that TMZ report two years ago, didn’t you?” I pushed off my knees and sat next to her on the bed.
“Yeah,” she said. Her forehead puckered, and her mouth turned down at the corners. “But as you said… celebrity gossip is hardly ever accurate.”
I shrugged. “Well, that onewaspretty accurate, actually.”
“You didn’t know me at all that day at the first audition. So why would you trust me with your Rolex, Jude. That’s… that’s not normal.”
“Normal.” I hated that word. “No… I guess it wasn’t normal behavior. But is it so weird that my gut told me I could trust you?”
She arched her eyebrow and gave me a look. No, not just a look, butthatlook. The one that saidyeah, itisso weird. “The problem is,” I said, trying again, “I’ve always trusted my gut… but I haven’t always listened to it. When I was eighteen, I asked the most popular girl in school to prom. Jenny Weaver. She was head cheerleader, homecoming queen, basically every guy wanted her. I asked her, thinking no way in hell she’d say yes… but she did. And even though my gut told me I should have been going to prom with my best friend—the girl I’d grown up next to since I was five—I didn’t listen to it. I went with Jenny. And she ended up leaving prom with her ex-boyfriend, not me.”
Marly nodded, her expression lifting. “So, you learned to listen to your gut,” she said.
I snorted. “You would have thought I’d have learned, wouldn’t you? That watch I gave you was my father’s. My family wasn’t all that wealthy when I was a kid. My dad worked hard, but he was just an elementary school teacher. And my mom was a college professor, which contrary to popular belief, doesn’t earn that much. Even so, we were comfortable. But any money we had as a family got shuffled into my mom’s campaigns. Running for office takes a lot of money. And it takes even more time. They were always out—at events for charity and fundraisers.”
“That must have been hard.”
I shrugged. “Maybe. But I also grew up watching a strong woman work hard to achieve her dreams. My dad always talked about wanting a Rolex. He had this mason jar where he saved every extra bit of money he had. He started it before he was even married and I remember seeing him dump spare change into it every night from his pockets when he got home from school. Then when I was eight, my mom started her first city council campaign. He came downstairs with his jar of money and gave her his Rolex savings so she could afford to print lawn signs.” I smiled at the memory, sighing and falling back against the wall, the comforter wrinkling around my legs. “That year for Christmas, my mom sold her wedding gown to buy my dad that watch. And I remember watching them on Christmas morning as my father opened his gift—he cried. I’d never seen my dad cry before. He held my mother as tears fell down her cheeks, too. And later that night, he told me to find a woman who would sell her wedding gown to make me happy. But in turn, I better be just as willing to give up a piece of myself for her.” My fingers trailed over the bare skin at my wrist. The skin there was paler than the rest of my arm.
“Okay…”
“The point is—I chose incorrectly. My dad gave me clear cut advice. Marry someone genuine and kind. Someone who understands the give and take of a relationship. And I married Layla. My gut told me I shouldn’t. My gut was screaming at me on our wedding day that something felt off. But I thought it was nervous jitters. I should have listened to it. When she left me, I swore I would always trust my gut.”
“Can I ask…” Marlena started speaking, but quickly dropped her head.
I reached out, blanketing her hands with my palm. “You can ask whatever you need to,” I said quietly.
She blinked, looking up, her eyes a shimmering, bright blue. “What did she do? You’ve mentioned a few times that she cheated?”
I gulped. “Her one goal was to use me to break into Hollywood. And I was dumb enough to think it was love. She required public everything in her submissive contract. She wanted to share, but that’s where I drew the line. She didn’t care about my lines though… my limits. She was fucking every studio head and producer she could.”
Marly gasped and when I slid a glance to her, she was covering her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I mean, I saw the footage a while back of…”
“Yeah, I know. Everyone saw. Eventually, she started cheating on me with the President of Gary Brothers Studios… she leveled up. And instead of ending our three-year marriage in a respectful way, she sold the footage of her and him to TMZ. Ash knows one of the production editors over there and managed to tell me before it aired, so I wasn’t quite so blindsided. I was panicked, freaking out… I rushed down to their offices, screaming at every production assistant working to give me that footage… There was a studio tour happening. Everyone got pictures and videos. I made a fool of myself. It ended up as part of the story.”
“That’s why you panicked when the studio tour came through Silhouette?”
I nodded, hating that I still couldn’t handle those stupid tours. “Yes. And that’s why I’m helping you. This film could be amazing. I think you’re the best actress for the part. And if I have to act beside Layla and pretend that we’re in love—” My voice broke and I went to the sink, turning it on simply to give myself something to do. I washed my hands, flicking a glance to Marly in the mirror. “I can’t do it. And there would go any hope of the film winning any sort of best actor nods for me. I’m good, but I’m not that good.”
Marly’s wet eyes glistened from the other end of the room, and my stomach clenched. “You remind me a lot of my mom. You’re the kind of woman that a man could give his life savings to help achieve your dreams. I want to see your dreams come true.”
I trusted my gut this time. Marlena would never climb those social ladders. It was how I knew Jack was a lying piece of shit. I knew from personal experience the kind of women who would fuck to get ahead. And Marlena Taylor? That girl simply wasn’t the type.
Spinning away from the mirror, I turned to face her and helped her to feet. She stared at me, her cheeks flushed, mouth wet and parted, her eyes shrewd. “You seem like the kind of man I would sell my wedding gown for.”
I closed my eyes, my chest squeezing at her admission. Did she mean it? It was too early in our relationship. Way too early to be feeling this intense. But I could see us in the future. Could see Marlena in a simple white dress, a small wedding at my parent’s Montana ranch. No fanfare. Just us. A couple of rings. And a lot of love. I could see her belly swollen with my child. I could see her coming home from filming, just in time to help me tuck the kids into bed. I wanted to give her everything.
I opened my eyes and found her still staring at me. But giving her everything she wanted? It began with this role. Right now, that was what she wanted. And I was going to make sure she got it. Even if I had to destroy myself to do so.
Leaning down, I lightly brushed my mouth over hers. “You ready to continue the lesson?”
She nodded, tilting her head.
“Good.” I stepped back, releasing her hands. “Undress.”
