Hollywood Scandal

I grabbed her wrist as she walked away. “Look, I want to explain, but to do that I need you to sign a non-disclosure agreement.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s okay for you to sleep with me but I have to sign an NDA if we’re to have a conversation? Well, don’t worry. As if I want anyone to know I’d been anywhere near you. I’m not going to say a word.”

Her expression hit me like a bullet to the chest. She looked disgusted. Plenty of women were against cheating, but I’d never had to explain myself to any woman. They weren’t concerned with my relationship status. But this was exactly why I liked Lana. She wasn’t like all those other girls.

“Look, I’ve been told not to get into this until you sign the NDA. But Audrey isn’t my girlfriend. It’s just a Hollywood thing. She has a boyfriend back in her hometown. I’ve never so much as kissed her.”

“So you pretend she’s your girlfriend?” she asked, twisting her arm free and turning to face me.

“Yeah. We have a movie coming out and my publicist thought it would be good to create a buzz.” I wasn’t being entirely honest with her. “And I had kinda a bad rep back there for a little bit. I’m trying to be taken more seriously, so it seemed like a good idea to appear settled down.” Sinclair was going to be so pissed if he found out that I’d told her this shit without the protection of a confidentiality agreement.

She put her hand on her hip and narrowed her eyes. “You just lie to everyone?”

“It’s Hollywood. That’s how it works.” I took a step closer but she backed away. “I like you. I’ve—” How could I explain that I hadn’t fucked anyone other than a couple of regular girls since I’d signed up to be Audrey’s boyfriend? It made me sound like a douchebag. But I did like her. I liked the way she was busting my balls rather than falling over herself for a repeat performance. I really liked the way the arrangement I had with Audrey seemed so alien to her, because when anyone thought about it, it was pretty fucking ridiculous. I even liked the way she looked at me as if I was kind of an ass for agreeing to it. “I like you, or I wouldn’t have kissed you. I can’t tell you how much shit Sinclair gave me for getting intimate without an NDA. But you were worth the risk. I don’t think about all that crap when I’m with you.”

She rolled her eyes and went back behind the counter. “I’m overwhelmed at the compliment.”

She might not know it, but being with her was a big fucking deal—my reputation, my career, my future was at stake.

“So you won’t say anything? If the tabloids find out, they’ll make me out to be some kind of cheater.”

“When in fact, you’re just a liar.” She flung open the refrigerator and began to put away the groceries she’d carried in with her, practically throwing things onto the shelves.

“Hey, I’m not a liar.” Though I wasn’t exactly telling the truth to the whole world, either. “Anyway, my arrangement with Audrey only lasts until we finish publicity for the film. And then she’s done. She just got engaged.”

“Unbelievable.” Lana shook her head. I seemed to be making things worse, not better.

“It’s just how it is in Hollywood. Your entire life is a show. It’s not like I’m the only one. You know Bradley Bartha? He and that model have a contract.”

Her forehead crinkled. “Don’t be ridiculous. I just read about them in that magazine.” She pointed at the tabloid that had my face on the cover. “They just had a baby.”

“He’s gayer than a gay thing on a gay day. That kid is not his.”

“Well lucky for me, I’ve never slept with Bradley Bartha, but thanks for the heads-up.”

“Lana, come on. Give me a break here—I’d get blackballed if anyone found out what I was telling you.”

She shrugged, picked up an apple from the bowl on the counter and headed toward her couch. “So don’t tell me and get out of my house.”

I sighed. I should just leave. But it wasn’t like we could avoid each other. We lived next door, for fuck’s sake. Besides, I’d like to get to know her a bit more. Our night together had been so much better than I’d thought it would be —Lana was funny, sexy and knew what she wanted. And I hadn’t quite got enough of her when this morning had been cut short.

“I’m having beers on my balcony later. I’d really like you to join me.”

She fell back onto the sofa. “Ask your girlfriend.”

“Fuck, Lana. I told you she’s not my girlfriend.” I ran my fingers through my hair. She wasn’t listening to me at all.

“Why would I believe a word that comes out of your mouth? You’ve lied about everything.” She turned the TV on with the remote, blatantly ignoring me.

“No, I really haven’t. Audrey isn’t my girlfriend—”

“Even if that’s true,” she said, turning to me, her eyes lit with indignation, “and I find that very difficult to believe, given what I’ve read about the two of you, you still didn’t tell me that you were famous.”

“I told you I was an actor. If you don’t go to the movies or open a fucking magazine, why am I the asshole?” And yeah, I’d found it hot that she hadn’t seemed to recognize me, but where was the crime there?

She tapped her knee with the remote, staring blankly at the TV. After a couple of seconds, she announced, “I don’t know why you’re an asshole. I just know that you are.”

She was beyond frustrating. I was getting shit thrown at me from every direction, but I hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Okay. Well, I’m going to take my asshole-self out for a run,” I replied, turning to the door. “Enjoy your magazine.”

This had to be the first time ever an actor had been rejected because he was famous. Wasn’t it meant to be the other way around?

But then, I’d reveled in the fact that she hadn’t recognized me. That Lana had wanted me, Matt, not some Hollywood fantasy. I guess I couldn’t have it both ways. I wanted a slice of reality when I’d come here to Worthington, and I’d gotten my wish.





Eleven





Lana


“Hey, Mrs. Wells,” I said as I pushed the front door open. I was going to start locking my doors. Mrs. Wells should really do the same. We might be in Worthington, but there were plenty of strangers—and untrustworthy movie stars—during the tourist season. I put down the groceries on the counter. “Hey, Harold,” I greeted the ginger tabby, who hissed and flung his tail in the air, giving me an uninterrupted view of his asshole as he marched out the door. How appropriate. That was exactly the kind of respect the world was showing me at the moment.

I finished unpacking the groceries and went into the living room to say hello to Mrs. Wells.

“I’ve been hearing all about your new neighbor,” she said before my ass had even hit the chair. “A movie star, apparently.”

I hadn’t seen Matt since I’d blown up at him yesterday. Truth be told, I’d been avoiding him. I didn’t really want to run into my one-night stand turned one-night nightmare. I didn’t even want to think about him.