Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
She loved the genre, explaining it was so different from her own that it was easier to read. “I don’t compare them to my own books then,” she said. “I can get lost in that world.”
It made sense.
She had told me one day the character in the Millionaire Marquess reminded her of me.
“He loves to draw and paint. He hides parts of himself away, but he is a wonderful character. Caring and loving, even when he tries to hide it,” she enthused. “Scarlett Scott writes the best rogues.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “I’m a rogue now?”
She grinned. “A bit.”
I took her to my trailer and showed her what a rogue I was.
Now I couldn’t walk into it without seeing her there.
I saw her everywhere.
Filming was going well. I arrived early every day and stayed late, looking over the daily rushes and learning more about the art of making a film from Amber and her crew. It was fascinating and something I hoped to do one day. Actors faded as their looks waned, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could do this.
How much longer I wanted to do this.
I hated going back to the hotel, knowing she wouldn’t be there. The swimming pool felt wrong when I’d go to burn off some excess energy.
I missed her everywhere.
We’d made up—more than once—but I still felt terrible about my anger. I’d spent every moment I could with her until she left. Her forgiveness was complete. She never threw my behavior in my face or reminded me of my angry words. She simply let it go. It was refreshing. I wasn’t used to such benevolence. MJ liked to rub my nose in my mistakes every chance she got.
Our goodbyes had been ridiculously over the top. I felt as if she was leaving me forever, rather than a couple of weeks. Holding her before she left for the airport, I had kissed her until she was clutching my shoulders and breathing hard.
“I have to go,” she whispered. “Andi is waiting.”
“Call me,” I demanded. “Promise me you’ll call.”
“I will.”
She stepped back, then slipped a slender gold chain from her neck. She always wore it, the metal glinting in the light. She placed it in my palm, wrapping my fingers around it. “You keep this and think of me.”
I opened my hand and looked at the necklace, then put it around my neck. On her, it hung down low on her clavicle. For me, it hugged my neck, but I liked the feeling. It was still warm from her skin.
Aside from filming, I hadn’t taken it off.
We called and texted every day. She told me about the advance crew, who were busy with exterior shots and setting up for our arrival. She sent me funny memes and pictures. Her voice was the last thing I heard every night, and she woke me every day.
I could hardly wait to wake beside her again. I wasn’t sleeping as well, and for the first time ever, I found very little solace on set. Everything reminded me of her.
The paps were relentless, and I gave up my car and let the studio drive me to and from the hotel. It was wearing on me as it always did, and I looked forward to leaving.
MJ stayed away, our communication conducted through texts and phone calls. I remained civil, not wanting to provoke her. I was anxious to meet with Andi and the people she was going to put me in touch with. I felt a flicker of hope, thinking perhaps they could help me break out of this pattern. Find a loophole to help me start fresh.
I scrubbed my face and headed to my trailer. I had a few things to pack up, and I needed to head to my place and grab some items before leaving. I hadn’t been there since filming started. It was far easier to stay at the hotel. I lived an hour outside of LA, so not only was it closer, but the security level was also better.
I stayed busy until a knock on the door brought me out of my musings. I was surprised when MJ came in.
“Hi,” I said coolly, adding a few things to my bag.
“Getting ready for your adventure to the land of snow?” she quipped.
“I am.”
She tossed a bag on the sofa. “I went to your place and packed you some things to save you a trip. Your favorites. You don’t own sweaters, so you’ll have to buy some, plus whatever else you need.”
“It’s not cold there right now,” I told her, surprised by her thoughtfulness.
“Ah.”
I sat down, facing her. “Thanks.”
She dug in her purse and handed me a bag. “I got your prescription refilled. I was worried you’d forget.”
I took it, nodding. It was on my list to do later, but I was grateful she had done it. “Thanks,” I repeated. “I thought I had more pills left than I do, and I meant to take care of it.”