Famous in Love (7 page)

“All right,” she says. “I’ll talk to him about it. And in the meantime try to keep your affairs out of the international press.”

I laugh. “It’s crazy, right?”

“Crazy,” she says. “Totally bat shit. But I kind of love it.”

“That makes one of us,” I say.

I hear her sigh, and the pop of her lips. “You’ll come around,” she says. “You always do.”

We hang up, and I keep looking out my huge floor-to-ceiling windows. They’re the one thing in this condo that reminds me a little bit of home. My bedroom has one window that looks out into the backyard. I used to like to pull my desk chair up to it on the weekends and sit with a huge mug of hot chocolate and a good script. But now my sister lives in that room, and there’s a playpen jammed up against the glass. Joanna wanted to be a massage therapist, and a while back she started to get her training. We all thought it would be a good idea because she could make her own hours and get pretty decent pay, but it never worked out. She ended up blowing off class, saying she missed Annabelle, and went instead to stock produce at our local Whole Foods. She works more hours now than she ever did in school.

That’s the thing about my family: No one wound up where they wanted to go.

My mom didn’t end up an actress; my dad didn’t end up an architect. Both my brothers keep ending up nowhere, and half the time I don’t think my sister even knows where she is.

It’s not like our story is tragic or anything. Nothing that terrible has ever happened to us. Which I guess, actually, is the point. People are always saying the pendulum
swings both ways—greatness and tragedy—but my family’s seems to be stuck in the center.

I think about Cassandra and Jake. Jake will be great, and not because he’s destined for it but because he knows what he thinks and isn’t afraid of hard work. He was volunteering at the animal shelter and starting a garden at five. He’s wanted to help in whatever way he can since as long as I can remember and sometimes that drives me crazy (like when Saturday nights are spent pulling up non-indigenous weeds), but it also means he’s committed to something. And Cassandra? She’s passionate about everything, but especially the people she cares about. There hasn’t been one of Jake’s Saturday sit-ins she’s missed, or one bio assignment she hasn’t talked me through. They’re both extraordinary because they care. About the world and the people around them. About me.

They have to come visit. If they do, this experience will be everything it’s supposed to be. I just know it.

“I can’t believe this.
Are you sure you heard him right?” Rainer is pacing the length of his condo, his hands knotted by his sides.

I tuck my knees up to my chest on the couch. “That’s what he said. Jordan Wilder.”

“Why would they hire Jordan? I thought they wanted an unknown.” Rainer stops and looks at me.

I lift up my shoulders. “I have no idea. You should ask your dad.” I think about Wyatt’s words earlier: “He’s the producer’s son.”

Rainer’s eyes fire up. “You think he knew about this?”

“I mean, he’s the producer, right?” I stick my thumbnail in my mouth and snap off the end. It’s a nervous habit
I have. Lillianna keeps yelling at me about it. I tried to explain to her that if August is on a deserted island with some tribe possibly intent on killing her, she’s definitely biting her nails, too, but she didn’t buy it.

“He wouldn’t do that to me. He knows about Jordan.”

“What happened?” I ask.

Rainer is unraveling right before my eyes. He asked me to come over to have dinner, and I was just catching him up on my morning, telling him about Wyatt coming over, when Jordan’s name slipped out.

I’ve never seen Rainer like this. Usually he’s so calm and cool and collected and together. The mere mention of this guy’s name has completely unhinged him.

I know there are those rumors about Jordan and Britney but Rainer told me himself he isn’t even with her anymore. And anyway, Rainer’s not the kind of guy to go into a tailspin about rumors. Unless they’re not just rumors.

He looks at me like he’s forgotten I’m there. “Nothing,” he says. “We used to be on a TV show together. It’s not important.”

“From the way you’re pacing your living room, it
seems
kind of important.”

“I’d just rather he not bog this movie down with his bullshit, that’s all.”

“
What
bullshit?”

Rainer’s eyes flash and then fade out, like they’ve blown a fuse, and he flops down onto the couch next to me. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I just really hate the guy.”

He lifts his head up, and he’s wearing a small smile now. I realize, suddenly, that this is the first time I’ve ever seen Rainer angry. It’s a weird realization. Like he’s becoming human or something. Not so perfect. But it’s not off-putting at all—instead, it’s totally attractive. I like that he’s let me into a part of him other people don’t see. That he has his own demons. And apparently, Jordan Wilder is one of them.

“Hey,” I say. I reach for his shoulder and place my hand there. “If this is so important to you, why don’t we do something about it?”

He looks at me. His eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”

I suck in my bottom lip. I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I think about Rainer telling me yesterday we were in this together. Sitting on that couch, I think, I
know
, I’d already do anything for him.

“I’ll flub my read with him,” I say.

Rainer opens his mouth to say something and then closes it again. He looks at me, and a beat passes between us so long I think I might scream. But then he shakes his
head, his mouth pulling into a smile. “I can’t ask you to do that,” he says.

“You’re not asking.”

He makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and an exhale. “But you’re not going to,” he says. “I can’t let you. Not with how you feel about your current relationship with Wyatt.”

I think about our talk this morning. Rainer puts a hand on my shoulder and glides it down my arm. I’m sure he can feel the goose bumps that prick up where his fingers trail. We’ve touched so much on set but so little, I realize, off. I’ve been anticipating August and Noah’s kiss since we got here—I know it’s coming. I guess at least they’ll get there, even if we never do. “I’ll just have to trust that Jordan’s general assholery will speak for itself.”

“Okay.” I nod. Then, to change the subject: “Hey, I think my friends might come to visit next weekend.”

“Jake and Cassandra?” Rainer eyes me, and I feel something rise in my chest. I don’t even remember talking about them a lot. “That’s great.”

“Will you be here?” I pick at the edge of a pillow.

“Yes,” Rainer says. His voice is soft. “And I’d love to meet them.”

I look up at him. He’s smiling. “I didn’t ask,” I say.

He cocks his head to the side. “But you want to.”

I’m annoyed at myself. At how I can feel my blood heating up in my veins. “They’re great,” I say, because I don’t know what else to say. “Cassandra and I have been friends forever, and Jake…”

Rainer picks up on the pause. “You haven’t really clarified that one. Is he an ex?”

“No,” I say hastily. “It’s just strange being away from them. They’ve known everything about me up until now.”

“It’s hard,” he says. “It’s not easy to maintain relationships in this world.”

“Yeah. And Cassandra is just—she saw those stupid tabloid shots.” I already told Rainer about Wyatt’s confrontation, but before I could gauge his reaction I brought up Jordan’s name. I now really want to know: How does he feel about those pictures? About the world thinking we might really be together?

Rainer laughs. “All press is good press, right?”

“Isn’t it ‘not all press is good press’?”

He shrugs. “I forget. Was she upset or something?”

I glance downward. I can feel my cheeks flush. “She thought I didn’t tell her everything.”

I look up and see Rainer’s eyes fixed on me. His smile has slackened a little, and he seems intent. “Did you?”

“You know those pictures were taken out of context,” I say. “I mean, Wyatt totally overreacted. You were just being nice about the sweatshirt, and that hand-holding was…”

He unhooks his hand from the back of the couch and places it over mine, where it’s resting in my lap. “I like you,” he says.

I look at his hand and then up at him. All the hairs on my body feel like they stand up at once. When the words come out, they feel small, like those firecrackers that barely spark before they die. “What do you mean?”

“You’re sweet,” he says, “and smart. And talented. I like your spunk and how unassuming you are. I like how new this is to you. You’re so real.”

There is a calmness to his tone, a candid softness, that makes me think he is letting me down easy. That he picked up on this stupid, totally inappropriate crush I have on him and is trying to move past it. To imply without calling me out that we should just be friends. Wyatt was right. Everyone but me knows that us getting together is a bad idea.

“Thank you,” I say, because I have no idea what to say.

He laughs a little. “You’re welcome, I guess.”

He takes his hand away. Instantly, I’m sorry he did it. “Let’s stay in,” he says. “I think I have some sushi in my fridge. You hungry?”

I nod. “Starving.” My voice sounds hoarse, and my mouth feels dry. But my stomach is rumbling at the thought of food. I try to push my embarrassment down low, shake it off. I’m an actress, after all.

Rainer goes to the kitchen, busying himself with containers. I swivel on the couch to look at him. “I don’t suppose you have some pizza back there, too?” I ask.

Rainer laughs. “I have to be in a bathing suit tomorrow.” He’s in front of the counter now, and he lifts up his navy T-shirt to reveal his perfect abs. He pats his stomach twice, like he’s showing me his beer gut, except there’s nothing there but muscle. I blink and look away.

“It’s a challenge, being you,” I say, trying to make my voice light, playful.

He smiles. “At least I have you.”

I cross my legs under me on the couch and sink lower. My head hurts from thinking. Rainer. Jake. This thing with Jordan. But I’m still worried about tomorrow. Wyatt’s visit looms in my mind like a smoke cloud—I have to get better. I must.

Rainer comes back with a bunch of rolls and edamame and some green, slimy noodles he informs me is seaweed salad. Gross. Thankfully, there is one greasy thing.

“Hey,” I say, popping an egg roll into my mouth. “Do you think we could run some lines?”

“Now?”

I keep chewing. “Yeah.”

He shrugs. “Sure, if you want to. You’re not tired?”

“I am,” I say. “But Wyatt—”

Rainer lifts a tuna roll with some chopsticks. “What did I say about letting him get to you, PG? You can’t do it.”

“I know,” I say. “But I think he might be right. Something isn’t clicking on set for me. And I don’t know what it is.”

Rainer shakes his head, still chewing. “You gotta cut yourself some slack,” he says, swallowing. “This is your first movie. It’s a lot to take in.”

He stands up and goes over to the windows. He stops, opening the curtains all the way. I’ve been on the lanai only in the morning, never at night. It’s dark out now. I missed the sunset tonight, and they’re brilliant here. A million shades of pink and red and orange lighting up the sky. Way brighter than the sunrise. Like the sky has gained texture and depth since the morning. All the colors are more powerful at night.

“There. Better.” He settles onto the couch next to me again, picking up his chopsticks. “So what do you want to go over?”

“Anything? Everything.”

Rainer sets his sushi down. “You know what your problem is?”

“Split ends?”

He shakes his head. “You don’t believe you can do it.”

I fall silent for a minute.

“You’re waiting for Wyatt to give you some magical pat on the head, but that’s not going to happen unless
you
start thinking you can do it.”

“So basically you’re admitting I’m terrible,” I say.

He rolls his eyes. “More like impossible. Listen, I think you’re great. I think you’re doing an incredible job. But I want you to
enjoy
this.” He looks at me a moment too long. I can feel my heart in my throat. “I want you to be happy here.”

We eat dinner and run lines. Rainer says his between bites of sashimi and smiles at me, reassuringly, when I fire back.

“See?” he says when we finish a scene. “No problem.”

I want to tell him that there is a problem. A big one, actually. That I’m still terrified of letting everyone down.

The stakes are so high. Wyatt told me. Every tabloid and
Locked
fan site tells me. Rainer doesn’t seem to notice. The way he approaches this movie, approaches Noah, is like it’s a second skin. Like he’s done this a million times before. And I guess, really, he has.

We run lines—over and over. Until two in the morning, until nearly the time I have to get myself to Lillianna, to begin becoming August.

Rainer walks me to his door and we’re both bleary-eyed and half asleep. And then he does something he hasn’t before. He pulls me toward him and hugs me. Not a
quick hug, but a deep one, the kind that makes me loop my arms around his neck and roll up onto my toes. I breathe him in—warm and sweet and spicy. I bury my face in his shoulder. I feel his arms tighten around me. Then, just when I think he might never, he releases me, and I stumble into the morning and toward my condo door.

It’s Thursday morning,
and I’m in Lillianna’s chair, letting her attack my hair with a brush and grill me about the week. I don’t mind, though. For one, I think my scalp is getting numb from all the hours I’ve spent in here, and for another, we’re talking about Rainer.

This week has been nonstop filming, but on set things are different with us. So, okay, maybe he just wants to be friends. But I can’t help but feel like I’m not crazy for having this crush. He’s been so flirty this week. Using every excuse when we’re on set to touch me. I can see it bugs Wyatt, and, yeah, everyone is watching us, but it’s not like they weren’t before. For the first time I just want to relax and enjoy this. I don’t know exactly what’s happening between us and maybe, for now, that’s okay.

I’m thinking about yesterday when we were filming this waterfall scene. All we were wearing were the tiniest pieces of clothing, and it was freezing—the sun definitely did not want to come out. By the second hour my teeth were chattering, and between takes Rainer would put his arms around me and hold me against his chest to keep me warm.

“He’s sweet,” I say, looking at Lillianna.

She eyes me. “Something is cooking between you two.”

I laugh. But I don’t say no. I’m about to tell her about yesterday when there is a knock at the door. It’s Jessica.

“Hey, Paige, we need you.”

I glance up at Lillianna. “I just got here.” I flip over my watch. “We’re not shooting for another hour and a half.”

Jessica smiles. “Jordan Wilder came to set early,” she says. “You’re doing your chemistry test with him later, so everything’s moved up. We’re already behind schedule.”

I think about my conversation with Rainer last weekend. About how I offered to blow this thing. I know he declined, but the more time that goes by the more I know I’d do it for him. Things are so good on this set right now—we can’t risk that.
I
can’t risk that.

I nod to Jessica. “I’ll be right there.”

Jessica bites her lip, and I see her glance down. “Now,” she says softly. She looks up at me. “I’m sorry, but Wyatt says we have to go now.”

I stand up, and Lillianna gives me a shrug. “Good luck, hon,” she says. “You keep holding your own with that boy.” She pauses, looks me up and down. “Both of them.”

Jordan Wilder is shorter than I thought, much shorter. Shorter than Rainer by far. He’s standing by the edge of the water, the rising sun creating a halo around his frame. He doesn’t immediately turn around, but I know it’s him. I can tell from the scar down his neck, the one that starts just below his ear and scissors down to his jaw. The one that, according to
Hollywood Insider
, Jordan got from a fight last year. He was arrested for disorderly conduct. Between that and an ongoing lawsuit with his parents, he’s constantly in the tabloids.

Okay, so, I’ll admit it: When I first saw Rainer’s reaction to Jordan being cast, I did a little research.

Here’s what I found out: Rainer’s not the only one Jordan has pissed off. Not by a long shot. He’s been around Hollywood for a while and has been linked to countless actresses. And then there’s his family drama. He emancipated himself from his parents because of money. He’s been in prison. The list goes on.

Seeing him standing there now, even from far away, I can tell he’s trouble. I can
feel
it.

I go over to where Wyatt is walking through something
with Rainer. I’m not sure if I’m relieved or terrified that he’s on set, too. “Hey,” I say. “I didn’t know Jordan was coming today.” My voice comes out shaky. I’m still not sure where I stand with Wyatt.

He doesn’t take his eyes off the script in his hands. “You’ll test with him later,” Wyatt says. “We’re filming now.”

Camden comes over, and I grab Rainer’s shoulder. He immediately loops an arm around my waist, and I have to swallow to continue my thought. “Is he going to watch?” I ask, slightly panicked.

Rainer moves his hand to my back. “It’s okay,” he says, but his face doesn’t seem to agree.

I’m still holding on to his shoulder, and I lean my lips close to his ear. “Have you spoken to your dad?”

Rainer eyes me. “Are you concerned now?”

I shrug. “No. He just seems…”

“Destructive?”

“Interesting,” I correct.

“Diplomatic.” Rainer winks and runs his hand down the small of my back. It makes me inhale sharply. Wyatt turns away from Camden. He gives us a weary expression, the kind I’ve seen him wear a lot this week. The one that says
I don’t have time for this.

“While I’m under the impression that I’m young,” Wyatt says.

Rainer still has his hand on me, and I keep my eyes on Jordan. He’s facing the shore, his short-sleeved gray T-shirt billowing out in the morning breeze.

“Wilder, come here a second,” Wyatt calls. I’ve never heard Wyatt use anyone’s last name and the implied familiarity of it throws me. And then, slowly, Jordan turns around.

He catches my eye instantly. Did you ever have a moment that just solidified? Like the freeze-frame was so strong you could swear time stopped and hardened? Something makes my body feel tight, like my skin all of a sudden is too small.

Jordan’s eyes pierce mine. They’re jet black, the same color as his hair. It’s impossible to tell where his pupils end.

He looks away, scanning the periphery slowly. I see him take in Rainer’s hand on my waist, my grip on his shoulder. I untangle us quickly.

He keeps walking toward us. He’s unshaven, but I can still see his scar working its way down his jaw to the back of his neck like a hiker on a mountain trail.

“PG?” Rainer is staring at me, and I have a feeling that isn’t the first time he’s called my name. I give him a distracted smile as Jordan reaches us.

“Jordan, Paige. Paige, Jordan.” Wyatt glances back to where Jessica is waving him over. “Get to know each other for a minute,” he says, before taking off for the tent.

I jump in. “Hi,” I say. “Paige.” I extend my hand to him, but Jordan doesn’t reach out. He just tips his head to me and focuses his eyes on Rainer.

“Hey,” he says. “It’s been a while.” His voice is low, but pointed. It curls around his words like smoke.

Rainer snorts. “I’m so delighted you decided to show up here.” His tone is cold, biting.

Jordan crosses his arms. The edge of a tattoo peeks out when his shirt rides up. “I see not much has changed.”

“Has it on your end?”

I take a step back. Whatever this is, I don’t want to be in the middle of it. Jordan lets his arms fall, and it sounds like wind rushing by. Or it could just be the extreme sound of my own inhaling.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he says.

Rainer shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I really wouldn’t.” He runs a hand over his forehead. “What did you think it would be like, showing up here?”

“Exactly like this.”

Rainer moves closer to him, close enough that Jordan should take a step back, but he doesn’t. “You bring this on yourself, and you know it. And it’s just a matter of time before she realizes it, too.”

Jordan’s eyes narrow, and I can see his reserve breaking like thin ice—frown lines spreading across his face like cracks. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“What I’d like is for you not to be here.”

Jordan smirks, the corners of his mouth turning up at the sides like someone is pulling tiny marionette strings. “Then you just gave me even more motivation to stay.”

He looks me over from top to bottom. His gaze is slow, halting, and I can tell by the way it brushes my shoulders and slides down my body that it’s for effect.

Rainer gets this look on his face like it’s taking every internal power he has not to close the two feet between them and punch Jordan right in the face. I wouldn’t blame him.

I sidestep out of the way just as Wyatt yells, “We’re losing the light. Can you guys hold your social hour for lunch? Wilder, stick around.”

Jordan looks up. “I’d love to.” He sends Rainer one more glance, a smile, almost scary in its sweetness, and then he casually heads back to the tent, slips into a producer’s chair, and crosses one leg at the knee.

Rainer doesn’t look at me as we start, and I feel something harden in the pit of my stomach.

I know that Ed is in the beginning and end of book one, and that August is torn between Ed and Noah. She loves Ed, she has a history with Ed, but she’s drawn to Noah. She’s had a crush on him forever, and without Ed on the island, her feelings blossom. But she is going to have a choice to make, and I don’t actually know what
she chooses. Contrary to popular belief, or what people are saying all over Tumblr and Twitter, neither Rainer nor I have read the final book. It’s under lockdown at the publishing house. I have a sneaking suspicion that Wyatt knows. I think the author told him how things turn out.

The point is Jordan could be in our lives for the next two or more years. We could be cemented together as this trio forever. Which is why it’s really, really important that he not get the part.

I’ve never seen Rainer so off his game.

He’s vibrating next to me. He does this sometimes right before a scene, like he’s shaking himself off. But this time it’s more purposeful, like he’s not just trying to get rid of himself but someone else, too.

Jordan.

He’s sitting there. Calm and cool and collected and a total minefield. You don’t even notice until it’s too late—until you step on an unassuming piece of ground—and you’re blown to bits. Rainer screws up a line and keeps fidgeting, resulting in someone having to fix his makeup like six times between takes.

By noon we haven’t gotten close to what we need. And Jordan is still there. Arms folded against his chest, black eyes fixed on Rainer. Like a hunter looking through the barrel of a gun, lining up a shot.

When Wyatt calls for lunch, Rainer takes off toward
the vans to go back to the condos. He runs a hand over my hair before he leaves, but he doesn’t ask if I want to come with. I let him go.

I take a breath and walk over to Jordan’s chair. I want to say something, maybe even ask him to leave. But as soon as I open my mouth, he turns to Wyatt and starts talking. Like he doesn’t even see me standing right there in front of him. He’s branded me Team Rainer, so now he doesn’t want anything to do with me. Well, fine. Two can play that game.

I take a van to the condos, and when I get there, I realize how starved I am. Everyone—cast and crew—usually has lunch together at a tent set up outside. When I get to craft services, the crew is already eating. I spot Jessica and head toward her. Wrapped sandwiches are set out on the tables, and I grab a turkey and Swiss on my way.

Jessica is wearing a baseball hat with her hair swept up into a tight ponytail; it swings like a pendulum when she turns to look at me. “Have you seen Rainer?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “You need something?”

“I’m good.” I sit down next to her, unwrap the sandwich, and take a bite. It tastes like flavored sand. And I would know, I’ve been eating it pretty regularly during most beach scenes. I’d do anything for a burger from the Fish Market right about now.

“So, you meet Jordan?” Jessica spears a lettuce leaf
with a fork, keeping her eyes on her plate. Her tone is casual, but I can tell from the way her eyebrows move up that she’s trying to get a read on me.

“Yeah,” I say. “Rainer doesn’t seem pleased that he’s here. I guess they have some history.”

Jessica gawks at me. “Some history? Are you kidding me?”

“Britney…” My voice trails off. I don’t actually know which details are true and which aren’t. Rainer hasn’t told me, and I refuse to fill them in myself.

Jessica lowers her voice. “Britney Drake cheated on Rainer with Jordan.” She clears her throat. “They’re still together.”

“Rainer said he broke up with Britney.”

“Right,” Jessica says. “Because she’s with Jordan. Rainer is just trying to save face with you.” She squints like she’s just eaten a sour lemon and runs her hand over her forehead. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s fine,” I say. I take another bite of my sandwich and chew carefully. So Wyatt isn’t the only one who is watching us—so what?

“Those two are like natural enemies,” Jessica says. “They have to be seated at opposite sides of the Teen Choice Awards.” She spears a cherry tomato with her fork. “I get why he’s here, he’s a great actor, but I’m not sure how this is going to go.”

“Well, hopefully he won’t get the part,” I say, attempting a smile.

Jessica nods. “Totally possible,” she says. “Jordan playing the good guy? I just don’t see it.”

I want to ask her more about what she knows—like was he really in prison? But I have a feeling Google is going to have to inform me again, because I see Wyatt at the entrance to the tent, red-faced and script in hand. “PG,” he bellows.
“Now.”

Jessica scoops up her tray, and I follow her over to Wyatt. “Good luck,” she mouths. I can’t help but think I’m going to need it.