Page 81 of Act Three
“What’s going to happen when we finish filming the movie?”
“The raw footage will go to the editing team,” Isaac said, misinterpreting my question. “They’ll choose the best angles, splice them together, add music and sound effects — and when the movie’s ready for its theatrical release, we’ll all be invited to the premiere.
“I meant, what will happen tous?” I cupped his balls in my palm and absently played with them. “You and me, and the other guys.”
Isaac didn’t seem surprised by this question. He gazed at me and stroked my hair.
“I’ve been wondering that, too.”
That wasn’t an answer.
I waited for him to say something else, something comforting, but he closed his eyes as his cock hardened again. The fact that he wasn’t watching me anymore made it easier to ask my next question.
“Are you going to just… leave?”
He kept his eyes closed.
“We’ve all got other movies lined up…”
Tears stung my eyes as I tried not to think about what that would mean. Even though I’d been cast inPushing Daisy, I hadn’t received a single offer for another role. I could follow the guys to Hollywood, but that would mean auditioning witheveryone else, and there was no guarantee they would even want me there…
The most realistic choice for me right now was to finish filming the movie and return to the cafe.
I rolled away from Isaac and let him wrap his arms around me while I stared at the wall. God, I was going to miss this. I was going to miss all three of them. In fifty years, I was going to be that grandmother who bored her grandchildren senseless with stories about the lovers who got away.
That wasn’t what I wanted.
I wanted to be the grandmother who bored her grandchildren with stories about how she met their grandfather, the love of her life.
Lovesof her life, I corrected myself, and the word made something twist inside me.
Was that how I felt? Obviously, there was an attraction between us, but did I really love these guys?
It was too much to think about right now. I needed to change the subject and put that idea out of my head.
“I was wondering if you’d like to come to my house for dinner,” I said. “All three of you. It won’t be as fancy as you’re used to, but I figure a home-cooked meal might be a nice change of pace, and…”
Isaac placed a finger on my lips, putting a stop to the apologetic babble I was about to give him.
“I’d love to.”
39
ISAAC
Dean, Wyatt, and I traveled to Kyla’s house together in a hired car, all wearing suits.
“Is it weird that I’m nervous?” Wyatt asked as he adjusted his cufflinks.
I felt the same way. This was the most serious relationship-type moment I’d had since my divorce, and despite the car’s air conditioning, I was sweating.
“Not at all.” I swallowed. “I’ve met her dad, and he seems lovely, but I swear I felt calmer when I had dinner with the President.”
“Me too,” Dean said, as Wyatt’s mouth dropped open.
“You’ve had dinner with the President? Fuck you both.”
“Yeah, but you went to Hollywood parties from when you were a toddler,” I pointed out. “Dean and I had to climb the ladder. The hard way.”
