lemon. Or who had used their in-between-jobs actor badges to repeatedly make her pay for everything on dates. Or—the very worst—the one who had slept with her as a way of getting to meet Cameron. That one had really stung. She’d fallen heavily for that guy and all he’d wanted had been an introduction to her boss.
Her love life had taken a serious dive since she’d moved here, and now she was totally off dating anyone. Definitely. It was going to be just her and her scripts and, she thought with a sigh, Cameron and her three little Chihuahua babies.
Having drained his coffee, Jake gave her a small smile. ‘So you’re an actress, then?’
‘No. God, no. Although I did study drama from being about three years old and did my time on stage at university, but I fell in love with words, creating characters. Making things up. I’m a writer. Screenplays.’ What a buzz to say that out loud. Finally...finally! She’d escaped the endless expectations and was chasing her own dream, instead of being forced to live someone else’s. Although, she realised, freedom did come at a price—guilt, mostly.
He sat upright. ‘And you came all the way from England just for that?’
‘Just? People have done things that are far more rash. I wanted to be part of the scene here. This is where screenplays get made into movies. This is where someone can take my work, my idea, and make it a reality. Besides, my dad’s from LA and he always talked it up.’
‘So if he liked it, why did he leave? I presume he left?’
‘He met my mum and married her and they moved back to her home, which is London. Basically, he gave up his career here for love.’ He’d taken second best for a job, moved countries, given up dreams. She was not going to follow in his footsteps—she was going to mould her own. Chase her own dreams. Hard.
She wasn’t going to give anything up for love—when she was ready she was going to have it all. She just wasn’t sure if she would ever be ready—how did you know? Her plan was to achieve all those things her father hadn’t. To be a success. Because when he’d watched his daughter performing on stage all she’d seen in his eyes had been the light of regret. Lola never wanted to have any regrets. Or to walk on a stage ever again.
Jake looked startled. Shocked. As if the whole idea of love was alien and somehow absurd. ‘Why would anyone would do that? Why take a chance on something that could just as easily fall apart? What does he do now?’
‘He teaches drama, which he loves. And I’m sure he’s happy where he is. I know he adores his family. Too much at times. But he used to tell such amazing stories about living here and the films he was in. Did you see Big City Drive? No? It was about life in LA in the eighties. He said it was really accurate. The whole city vibe. I think I fell in love with this city just from that film. Although it does help that my dad was in it.’
Jake gave her a look that made her think he didn’t much like it at all. ‘And how’s it working out for you?’
She couldn’t look him in the eye and lie, so she spoke to the air around them. ‘It’s going just fine. Great! Look around you—isn’t this brilliant? Over there is Alfredo Petrocelli, the best director in the world, as far as I’m concerned. And I’m breathing the same air as Matt Ringwood and Cameron Fontaine—although her air is usually infused with some weird aromatherapy combinations depending on her mood, and they change—a lot. But, all things considered, it couldn’t be better.’
‘And yet your body language says the opposite.’ Those blue eyes narrowed a little. ‘Tell me the truth, Lola. It’s not all glitz and glamour, is it?’
Why did this man make her feel simultaneously nervous and yet eager to talk? How did he read her so well in the space of...what? Half an hour? She wanted to brush everything off with a big happy shrug but, well, she was a little sick of lying about how much fun it all was and how wonderfully exciting it was, when really sometimes she felt so despondent she wanted to cry. She was lonely. She was poor. She wasn’t making the right connections quickly enough. She was running out of money. She couldn’t bring herself to show her script to anyone. It was bad enough that she had to lie every time her father phoned.
But, then, she didn’t know Jake from a bar of soap, so why should she spill her guts to him? ‘It’s fabulous, actually. You should see Cameron’s house in Bel Air. It’s amazing. And she has great parties.’ Which Lola organised completely but had to keep a ‘low profile’ for. No partying for the assistant, just background work creating the illusion that Cameron had done it all on her own. ‘Really. Fabulous. Now, I think I should probably be going.’
Jake frowned. ‘Where? Back to Cameron? Won’t she yell if she needs you? That seems to work.’
‘Yes, she will. But I do have other things I should be doing. Besides, she needs me to go over her lines.’
But he didn’t seem to want to move, so she was kind of stuck here, being polite. Although that wasn’t too much of a hardship. After the initial bad beginning, things had started to smooth out a little—largely, she mused, due to her never-ending search for the positive in things, which was starting to falter a little.
He leaned back and crossed his legs. From what she could see of them they were toned, strong, clothed in expensive fabric. A dark suit, very professional. In fact, from this angle she could see the stretch of linen across his chest, the bunched muscles in his arms. He clearly did more working out than lifting a scalpel. And that was so none of her business. She looked away—only this time it was at his face.
His eyes met hers again and she felt a shiver of something strange as he said, ‘So, what’s it about, then, your screenplay?’
Wow. The first person to actually ask.
She’d prepared her elevator pitch, she knew exactly how to sell it to a director or producer in one sentence. Perhaps she could try it out on him?
‘Lola! Lola!’
No such luck.
She gave him a little nod. ‘See. I have to go. But, please, don’t disappear on me, she’s probably—’
‘Lola!’ The pitch was high, the voice wobbly.
‘Oh, she really does sound upset. Maybe you should come too?’
‘Okay. Sure. Once more unto the breach and all that...’ He closed his eyes for a second and then breathed in deeply, as if summoning up courage. ‘Do we need hard hats?’
For a moment Lola felt as if she had an ally. Everyone else took Cameron so seriously it was nice to share a confidence. She laughed. ‘Only if she throws something at you.’ At his worried grimace she laughed again. Harder. ‘She has terrible aim. She hasn’t actually hit me yet.’
* * *
Jake watched as Lola again clothed herself in her positive jolly guise and entered the trailer. For a few seconds she’d let him see past that façade to the real woman—she was an interesting character. Clearly driven, if not a little spirited. Still, there was nothing wrong in chasing a dream. She was articulate and had a self-deprecating sense of humour, which was infectious.
She almost ran over to Cameron and Jake had a suspicion that there was some affection there for her boss despite what she said. ‘Hey, are you okay? What’s the problem?’
The actress wiped tears from her cheeks. ‘I don’t know. I feel...well,
