“He’s so cute. Did you date him, or what?”
“I knew him in New York. I hardly remember anything about him,” Leah said, figuring that was not a total lie, as some of what they had been together had faded from her memory. Some. Not all.
“Damn,” Trudy said, clearly disappointed, “I was hoping for so much more. Oh well, it’s probably better this way.”
“Why?”
“Why? Well, when we saw him walk after you yesterday, Michele almost had a cow. She said you shouldn’t waste your time.”
“She did?”
“Sweetie, he’s the Extreme Bachelor, remember? The lover? And besides, apparently he and Nicole Redding are still an item—I heard the guy dates anything in a skirt and has a particular fondness for actresses.”
“Go figure,” Leah muttered.
“Well, yeah,” Trudy said cheerfully. “I mean, he’s so good-looking. And nice. He told me he loved my shades,” she said, winking at Leah.
So basically, while Leah had not been able to maintain a meaningful relationship since they broke up, he’d apparently scored with dozens of actresses, including Nicole Redding and God knew who else. Now she really hated him.
But then again, why should it bother her at all? She and Michael were done and over a long time ago. He was free to sleep with whomever he chose. So what if he was the Extreme Bachelor? What had that to do with Leah Klein? Absolutely nothing. She was here to do a film, not dig up dirt on an old boyfriend.
Still, it didn’t seem fair he would show up on this film, and she couldn’t get over it. How was she supposed to work while Michael did all the actresses on set?
“What’s the matter?” Trudy asked, peering closely at Leah. “You look sort of weird.”
“Me? I’m fine.”
Trudy peered even closer, her eyes squinting suspiciously. “How long ago did you say you knew him?”
“A really long time ago,” Leah said, and forced a smile. “I love your shoes,” she said, to divert Trudy’s attention from Michael.
It worked—Trudy instantly looked down and stuck her foot out. “Thanks. I got these and dance shoes for my son Barton for ten dollars at Goodwill,”
With a name like Barton, it was little wonder the kid needed dance shoes.
“You should come with me sometime. They have great stuff. All the women in Brentwood dump their trash there, which, of course, is my treasure,” she said, and turned her ankle so Leah could see the heel. Leah pretended to admire Trudy’s sandals while Trudy catalogued the other cast-off items she’d snared, but her head was in another stratosphere altogether. She was determined to avoid Michael because she knew herself too well—if she paid any attention to him at all, sooner or later she’d wind up keeping track of his many conquests, and honestly, she couldn’t imagine a greater hell on earth. Seriously. Watching him score ranked right up there with forty extra pounds and a fish hook in the eye.
That morning, she managed to stick to her new resolution and kept her distance from him. She focused on the tuck and roll the guys taught them, a skill Eli assured them they would need during the filming. In fact, Leah was so focused on tuck and roll that Eli pointed her out a couple of times as a great tuck-and-roll artist.
Maybe that was something she could add to her résumé. Beer and tissue commercials. Tuck-and-roll artist.
When they broke for lunch, Leah was laughing with Michele and Jamie at how one Starlet could so not tuck or roll, and Michael surprised the hell out of her by walking right into their midst. Unlike her, apparently, he was not the least bit intimidated by their past or their surroundings. He put his hands on his hips and smiled so charmingly at them that Leah thought Jamie might pass out.
“Good work today,” he said to Jamie. “You have a very good roll.”
“Thanks,” Jamie chirped, and stepped in front of Michele to get Michael’s attention. Only Jamie’s head barely reached Michele’s chin.
Nevertheless, Michael smiled down at her and said, “You’re really a natural. Have you done this before?”
“Me?” Jamie asked, pleased as punch. “Yes . . . I was a gymnast.”
Michele snorted.
“It shows,” Michael said with a smile and glanced at Michele. “Hey, I know you—you were the blond assassin in Chechnya.”
Michele blinked. “Oh,” she said, lighting up. “I’m surprised you noticed me.”
“Are you kidding?” Michael asked with a sexy grin. “It’s not every day you see a beautiful assassin. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”
Michele grinned broadly. Leah wanted to kick her.
“Is it all right if I borrow Leah a moment?” he asked a drooling Jamie and a moon-eyed Michele. “I really need a word with her.”
Michele’s mouth dropped open and she gaped at Leah. Jamie grinned at Michael, nodding.