“She’ll be gone another couple of weeks,” Dex scowls. I laugh. His fiancee is the total opposite of him: a super-organized career woman who just set up shop running business affairs for other artists and musicians.
“Why don’t you go visit?” I suggest. “You should be the one trailing after her for a change. She joined you on tour the last time.”
He shakes his head. “I tried, but she told me I’m a distraction. She’s got work to do.”
My cellphone rings; I glance down and wince. My agent.
“Is that Krista?” Tegan asks.
“Who’s Krista?” I ask absently.
She cackles with laughter. “That girl you were dating last month.”
“Oh. Yeah.” I give a guilty grimace. “We broke up.”
“You can’t break up with someone you dated like, two weeks.” Tegan smirks.
I shake my head and retreat into the next room to answer the call.
“Josh. What’s up?”
“I just had to explain to Jacques Carerre that you couldn’t come meet for a part in his next movie because you were out in the middle of nowhere shooting some shoestring indie bullshit film.”
Josh is blunt as ever. He’s the best agent in the business—and he’s been pissed at me ever since I agreed to do this movie with Dash. “I thought we were past this,” I try.
“Past you ignoring all my good advice? I’m in your corner man, I’m trying to make this happen for you. But you’ve got to listen to me when I tell you, you’ve got to start acting like an A-list star if you want to be one.”
“It’s one movie,” I protest. “Another month of filming. When I get back, I’ll go to all the meetings you want.”
“By then, it might be too late,” Josh mutters darkly. “You think you’re the only pretty boy on the block? Hollywood is full of guys like you on the verge of breaking out. “You know how many actually make it to the next level, become a Ryan, or a Brad, or a Johnny?”
“Almost none.” I repeat the lecture I’ve had a dozen times since signing with Josh’s agency last year.“Almost none. Look, Judgement Day is your golden ticket to the big-time,” he says, naming my big breakout movie I wrapped filming in the Spring. A massive blockbuster alien invasion movie, it was my first leading role—and the whole reason Josh took a chance on me in the first place. “What matters now is what you do next,” he continues. “Do you want that movie to be the biggest moment in your career or the stepping stone to even greater things?”
“You know we’re on the same page.” I try to calm him. “This is a favor for a friend.”
“Just promise me you’ll read those scripts I sent over,” Josh pleads.
I chuckle at the desperation in his voice. Anyone would think we were talking about world peace, and not another revenge thriller story. “Sure, I promise.”
“How’s Lila?” Josh changes the subject so fast, my head spins.
“She’s fine. Why?” I ask cautiously.
“No reason. Maybe you guys should hang out, you know, get into character, really connect.”
I smile. Josh couldn’t be more obvious if he tried. “Look, it’s late.” I avoid the hints. “I’ll read those scripts and check in soon. It’s going to be a great movie,” I add, reassuring him. “Don’t worry.”
“You pay me to worry,” Josh shoots back. “Touch base tomorrow.”
I hang up, watching the dark ocean lap against the shore. Funny how living my dreams just seems to bring a whole new set of problems. A couple of years ago, if you’d told me I’d be the star of a big action movie, with a top Hollywood agent on speed-dial, I’d have figured my life was made. But every rung I climb on the ladder, it seems like the stakes get higher—and I’ve got so much more to lose. I’m lucky, I know; there are a million guys who would kill to be in my shoes right now, but sometimes all I can think is, Don’t fuck this up for yourself. There’s too much on the line.
I head for my bedroom, ready to crash. It’s only when my head hits the pillow that I see Zoey in my mind all over again: the way she looked in the darkness with her blue eyes falling closed, her lips parting as she leans in…
But there’s no way it’s going to happen again. She’s Tegan’s best friend, for Christ’s sake! She’s like a sister to me.
Except the things you want to do with her sure as hell aren’t brotherly.
Two strikes, I tell myself. That’s all I’m allowed. Because I know Zoey, and as much as she’s transformed into this sophisticated, beautiful woman, that doesn’t mean she still isn’t the same girl I’ve known all these years. The girl who spent every vacation and holiday at our house because her parents were too busy to come back for her. The girl who would watch classic movies every weekend, gazing at Hepburn and Bogart and Bacall because she believed in the romance of their love stories.
The girl I kissed at sixteen, because she desperately wanted someone to do it.
And a girl like that deserves way more than me. Zoey deserves commitment and love. A man who is capable of a real relationship.
I’ve never dated a girl more than a month.
Sure, I’m fine with the fun stage, the flirting, the chase. But sooner or later, the fun part is over. They roll over in bed and want to get serious, to know all about my past, about my family, and what happened to my parents. They want to hold my hand, and gaze into my eyes, and have me unburden myself, like knowing the dark depths of my soul will somehow make us closer, make us real.