Sex Symbol (Hollywood Heat Book 1) Page 21

  Dammit all to hell! She was definitely hurt, but more than that she was embarrassed. What had she expected? Did she think that he’d proclaim his love for her in some entertainment magazine when he hadn’t even said the words to her? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  And okay, she shouldn’t care what he said to the press. She knew it was all fake.

  The problem was she did care. Fake or not, she couldn’t stand it. Maybe if he’d given her some indication of what he really felt for her she could deal with whatever lies he told others. But since he hadn’t, the words he’d told the reporter were the only ones he had to cling to.

  “There’s Maddie,” Sam said as she reached video village. Beaumont had been antsy waiting, she could tell.

  “Here I am.” She was surprised at how controlled her voice sounded. Inside she was reeling. Shake it off. “If you scoot over, I’ll load it.”

  An assistant sitting in front of the main monitor relinquished his seat. Maddie slid into the chair and connected the hard drive into the USB slot of the computer. Micah’s words rang in her ears as she pulled up the contents of the drive. Without a doubt. Free and single as ever.

  She shook her head and redirected her focus to her job. She dragged the folder to the computer’s desktop and a warning box came up. The file already exists, do you want to replace the existing file? Maddie paused. There shouldn’t be a file with the same name. She squinted at the file’s title. It should have said which scene they had filmed that morning, but it didn’t. The file name still said the date and scene from the previous shoot. The second assistant must have forgotten to change it.

  What scene had they shot that morning? She closed her eyes, trying to clear her head. Free and single as ever.

  “Get outta the way.” Beaumont pushed her out of her chair. “You’re taking too long.”

  Numbly, Maddie stepped aside. She watched as Beaumont grabbed for the mouse in front of him. “Wait,” she said. Scene fourteen. That was the scene they’d filmed. Beaumont needed to change the name to say Scene Fourteen. “You need to save as—”

  But Beaumont had already clicked.

  Panic coursed through her veins. “What did you just do?”

  “I saved the file.”

  “But it had the wrong name! You just saved it over the last footage!” Hoping she was mistaken, she leaned over the director and grabbed the mouse from his hands. She clicked open the file on the desktop with the previous scene’s date and watched in horror as that morning’s footage played. “No, no, no.” She scrolled through more of the files. All of the footage from the last shoot was lost. “It’s gone. Scene twenty-four is all gone.”

  Beaumont furrowed his brow. “What do you mean it’s gone?”

  Maddie’s words came soft and measured. “You just clicked ‘yes’ to replace the file and it had the same name as the other day’s shoot.” A lost scene was a disaster. They would have to hold actors over, adjust the shoot schedule. And they were already behind schedule.

  “Fuck!” The director stood abruptly, knocking his chair over in the process. “Is this some kind of sick joke?”

  “No! I wouldn’t do that!”

  Beaumont’s face reddened. He swept his arm across the table in front of him, throwing a stack of papers and clipboards to the ground. “Fuck!” He turned to Maddie. “How the fuck could you make that kind of a mistake?”

  Maddie usually kept her cool, no matter what her boss threw at her, but she’d reached the end of her emotional rope. “I was the one who was fixing it when you pushed me out of my chair. If you hadn’t been so goddamned anxious and just let me do my job—”

  Beaumont screamed so loud that Maddie wouldn’t have been surprised if they could hear him on set. “It shouldn’t have had the same name in the first place! You are incompetent, unprofessional, and completely out of your league! I should never have agreed to let Adam bring you on. “

  “No, I should never have agreed to come on.” Out of the corner of her eye, Maddie saw Sam take a step toward her, trying to stop her. She ignored him. “You’ve been an arrogant bastard since you fucked me over years ago. My coming here saved your ass.”

  Beaumont laughed. “Add cocky to the list. Assistants like you are a dime a dozen. Do you even realize how much your mistake is going to cost?”

  “I don’t know how much your mistake is going to cost. And frankly, I don’t give a shit. You deserve it.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Get your things, Bauer. You’re fired.”

  Maddie took her tape measure off her belt loop and threw it at Beaumont’s feet. “Fuck that. I quit.”

  She’d never been so angry in her life. Accused of making his mistake? She didn’t have to take that shit. She stormed off, high-tailing it to the trailer where the crew kept their personal items.

  “Maddie,” Sam called after her.

  Sam was the last person she wanted to deal with. Well, maybe not the last person. She didn’t want to deal with anyone.

  He called again, running to catch up. “Maddie!”

  She spun around. “What?”

  He put his hands on his hips, panting. “Do you need a ride?”

  Sam’s voice was kind and gentle, and it broke her. Tears welled up again in her eyes, this time she couldn’t stop them from falling. “Yes,” she mumbled. She nodded to make sure he understood.

  “Go get in the car. It’s unlocked. I’ll get your things.”

  She climbed in the front seat of his car and slumped down. Fired. She had been fired. She’d never been fired from anything in her life. She was an exemplary employee, devoted to her job. Now she’d been fucked over by Joss Beaumont twice in one lifetime. Christ, she’d be lucky if she worked anywhere in film again.

  She wiped at the tears falling down her face. There would be some serious crying later when she was alone. She knew that. She just had to hold on until then.

  Her phone buzzed alerting her of a text. Micah from the party. She stared at her phone, not sure if she wanted to read it at the moment. Sam’s arrival helped her make the decision. She pocketed her phone and curled up next to the window. Please don’t make me talk, she willed silently. Please, please, please.

  “Don’t worry, you only have to talk about it if you want to,” Sam said as if reading her mind.

  As they drove in silence, Maddie replayed the scene with Beaumont over and over in her mind. She didn’t want to think about it, but as soon as she stopped, thoughts of Hollywood’s most eligible bachelor crept in its place. Those thoughts were too much to bear.

  When they’d nearly reached her hotel, she found she could no longer stay trapped in her mind. She peered over at Sam. He really was a nice kid, not a douchebag at all. “Won’t you get in trouble for leaving the set?”

  Sam stole a glance at her before answering. “I called Joe’s cell phone. He agreed I should drive you.”

  “You called Joe?”

  “Yeah. I told him what happened. I’m sure Beaumont’s version of the story will be different than yours and I wanted him to know the truth.”

  How thoughtful. And irrelevant. “Beaumont’s version of the story is the only one that matters.”

  “On this film, maybe. But Joe and Adam—they’ll make sure you get hired again.”

  She nodded. Sam had never experienced the joy of being blacklisted by Beaumont. “I don’t even know if I want to be hired again.”

  “You might feel differently later. I mean, Beaumont’s a dick. And you’re good. You don’t want to give that up.”

  Maddie stared at Sam. He was sweet. Would Micah say the same thing to her? Would he comfort and reassure her?

  Yes and no. He’d tell her to get the hell out. Tell her to take this as a sign to move on, to direct her own stuff. And he wouldn’t say it because he was reckless and irresponsible. He’d say it because he knew that was what she really wanted to do.

  Sam pulled into the front circle of the Comfort Inn and let the car idle. She looked out the window, suddenly realizing he d
idn’t know she wasn’t at this hotel anymore. What should she do? She couldn’t walk to the other hotel. She was exhausted—emotionally and physically. She could call a cab after Sam drove away. What a pain.

  Fuck it. “Sam, I’m not staying at this hotel.”

  He nodded and put the car in drive. “I know.”

  Shocked, she soaked in his response while he pulled out on the road toward Micah’s hotel. He knew. “Does everyone know?” Just what she needed, for her love life to be the talk of the production crew.

  “I don’t think so. I didn’t know if you wanted me to know, so I took you here first. No one else has said anything.”

  “That’s good, I guess. Especially considering how incredibly fucked up that situation is right now.”

  “I bet it’s not as fucked up as you think.”

  She studied him again. There were so many thoughts and emotions running through her that she found it difficult to make her brain work. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  The lips of his mouth curved slightly. “I didn’t think you wanted me to.”

  She looked out her passenger window, knowing she’d break again if she met Sam’s eyes. She’d dismissed him so easily, put her sights on the unattainable Micah Preston, what the fuck had she been thinking? Micah was right—she was emotionally unavailable.

  They pulled into the circle at Micah’s hotel and Sam again let the car idle. “I could come in, if you want me to.”

  She pictured inviting Sam into the hotel room she shared with Micah. “That might be weird.”

  “I suppose it would be.”

  “Thanks, though. For everything.” She got out of the car and waved goodbye as he drove away.

  Inside the room, the tears Maddie had expected to fall generously didn’t come right away. She’d been fired. And she felt like shit about it. But Beaumont had fucked her before. She had survived then, she’d survive now.

  But Micah…Micah... Just the thought of his name shot like a bullet through her heart. She was such a fool. She couldn’t even be mad. All along he’d said it didn’t want a relationship, how had she convinced herself that he had told her anything different?

  She pulled out her phone to read the text he had sent her.

  She was just a journalist. What I say to her doesn’t matter.

  She stared at the screen. He probably hadn’t realized she’d been fired yet, but she’d hoped for more in his response. She’d wanted him to say…what? What exactly did she expect?

  I’m sorry. I love you. That’s what she wanted.

  Micah had been right about her here, too—she was a hopeless romantic. She wanted a guy who loved her, who gave up everything for her, who wasn’t afraid to tell reporters how he felt, who didn’t care that choosing her might jeopardize his career.

  She’d told him she loved him. And he’d told the world he was single.

  Such an incredible fool.

  She turned her phone off and tossed it on the nightstand. Then she wrapped her arms around herself as the tears began to flow, fast and steady. Even in the generic space of the typical hotel decor, she felt Micah’s presence. She wished he were there to hold her and comfort her.

  But he couldn’t fix her when he was most of the reason she felt so forlorn. She grabbed a T-shirt of his from his laundry pile, threw herself onto the bed and curled up in a ball, clutching his clothing to her. It smelled like him. She stayed like that, sobbing, for more than an hour.

  When she’d run out of tears, she shook herself out of her stupor, and turned her phone back on. She scrolled through two more texts from Micah. The first said, Are we okay? The second read, Where are you???

  She erased both messages and dialed a number from her favorites list. “Bree, can you book a flight for me tonight? I want to come home.”

  Twenty-Five

  He should have gone after her.

  All through the eight tortuous hours that followed his last encounter with Maddie, Micah couldn’t shake the feeling that he should have gone after her.

  She had overreacted, of course. He was a famous actor, and telling stories to the press was part of the job. She worked in the biz, didn’t she get that? Maybe she’d be fine when she calmed down.

  Except Micah didn’t really think she would be fine. First of all, he’d felt sick as he told Ariahn that he was free and single. Though he didn’t have any official commitment to Maddie, he was tied to her. He’d been sharing a room with her—sharing a bed—for three weeks. That made him anything but free and single. And, all right, even if he didn’t want to tell everyone via magazine article about his complex feelings, he should have at least told Maddie.

  Her disappearance from the set was perhaps even more convincing proof that he’d screwed up royally. When Micah filmed his next scene, Beaumont had taken over the camera and Adam had filled Maddie’s spot. That wasn’t unusual behavior for the director, but it was odd that Maddie wasn’t around at all.

  On top of going M.I.A., she wasn’t answering his texts. Or the few phone calls he’d managed to make. Had she walked out on the show because of him? No, she would never do anything that unprofessional. Still, Micah was apprehensive.

  By the time filming wrapped for the night, he was crazy with worry. He needed to get back to the hotel, see if Maddie was there, ease his mind. He made a beeline for his trailer only to be met by Joe outside his door.

  “Whatever you have for me, talk while I’m changing.”

  “Uh, sure.” Joe followed Micah into his trailer. “I just wanted to let you know we lost some footage from the other day so the call schedule’s been adjusted.” Joe held out a sheet of paper.

  Half out of his shirt, Micah didn’t take the schedule. “Lost footage?” That was unusual. And not good at all. Was Maddie involved?

  “Don’t worry about it too much, man. Technical difficulties can happen even to the best shows.” Joe set the schedule on the counter. “I’ll just leave it here. It’s going to be a tough week. Sorry.”

  Joe started to leave, but Micah stopped him. “Does this have anything to do with Maddie not being on set today?”

  “I’d rather not say anything. I wasn’t there.”

  Joe’s vague response increased Micah’s anxiety. Something bad had happened, and he needed to find out what.

  Joe left, passing Sam as he entered the trailer.

  Micah groaned. Did no one understand he wanted to get out of there? “What do you want?” he snapped.

  Sam shifted from one leg to the other. “Beaumont fired her.”

  “He what?” Surely he hadn’t heard right. But it made sense. Micah cursed under his breath. “Where’s Beaumont?”

  “Why? You gonna get her job back for her? I don’t think she wants that.”

  “Why wouldn’t she?”

  “Because she quit. Just not before he fired her. Besides, that’s not what she needs right now.”

  Micah’s eyes narrowed. How dare this kid tell him what his girlfriend needed? Okay, not girlfriend, but that wasn’t the point.

  Maybe that was the point. Right now Sam was more in tune with what was going on with Maddie than he was. She should have come to him. She should have been able to come to him.

  He took a deep breath and looked Sam in the eye. “Do you know where she is?”

  “I drove her to her hotel.” He regarded Micah. “Your hotel.”

  The wind left Micah’s lungs, but he kept his features even, not giving anything away.

  Sam pointed a finger at Micah. “And before you go assuming that she said anything to me, she didn’t.”

  Micah raised his eyebrows, impressed by the boy’s bravado. He considered. Sam liked her. Micah had known that since the airport. He should have expected Sam would have figured it out. If Maddie had hooked up with anyone instead of him, Micah would have known. When you liked someone, you noticed.

  He hated asking Sam what he should have known himself, but he had to know. “Is she okay?”

  “She’s pretty shaken
up, but I think there’s more to it than just the job.”

  Shit! Just what had Maddie told the P.A.? And how far had Sam gone with the info? He’d just curbed a major media blowout with Ariahn Jessler, would he need to worry about stopping another?

  Sam answered his unasked question. “I offered to listen, but she didn’t want to talk about it.”

  Micah blew out the air he’d been holding. “Thanks, man.”

  “I didn’t do it for you.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply that you did. But it means a lot to me that you were there for her.” He leaned against the door and did something he never did—opened up to someone. “She hasn’t been answering my texts or calls.”

  Sam shrugged. “She probably needs some time to herself.”

  “Yeah.” Micah ran his hands through his hair. Sam was probably right. But he couldn’t let her retreat from him completely. He had to get back to the hotel. He needed to be there for her, to comfort her. “Thanks for telling me.”

  Sam started to leave but turned back at the door. “Micah, don’t fuck it up.”

  “I’m trying not to.” But he was afraid he already had.

  Micah knew the moment he opened the door that the room was empty. It felt too quiet, and void of the presence that filled any space Maddie occupied. He looked anyway, in the drawers, in the closet, for traces of her. But there were none. Not even a note. Just the faint cling of her apple scent that seemed to be everywhere—in the bed sheets, in the closet, in the air.

  His chest tightened. He sat on the edge of the bed—the bed that felt too big for just one person—and lay back. He’d done it. He’d fucked up. He’d known she was upset when he saw her, her eyes filled with tears, pained by words he’d said. Why didn’t he fucking go after her?

  He slid his phone out of his pants pocket and pushed redial for the hundredth time that day. He didn’t expect her to answer, but he couldn’t give up. Not yet.

  It rang four times. Then, just as he was about to hang up, she answered.

  “Micah?”

  He sat up. “Maddie!” Relief washed over him. “Thank God. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all day.”