Hitman's Hookup: A Bad Boy Romance (36 page)

“What do you want, Hailey? Money?”

She laughed. “Wilde, I’m worth three times what you are.” She set the guitar down and leaned forward. Our faces were inches from one another’s. “I want
you
.”

I felt like time was stopping. My heart was racing. Then I guffawed in her face.

“Right. Okay. What do you
really
want?”

She frowned. “I told you. I want
you
.”

I stood up, shaking my head and pacing. I felt like I was going to explode out of my body if I didn’t move around. “

Bullshit. You don’t want me. You wanted my friends, the friends of my friends, the neighbors of my friends, the pizza guy…” I trailed off. “You fucked more men when we were together than you have when we’ve been apart.
Bullshit
.”

She twisted her mouth into a smile.

“I want you to propose to me. I want a ring and wedding planning. I want us together in public every night. I want photos of us all over the Internet.”

I stopped pacing. Then I laughed. “No. No way. Absolutely no way. Why would you want that?”

She leaned back and examined her perfect manicure.

“My album sales are dropping. There’s nothing that my fans like more than to have paparazzi photos that match my song lyrics. So when we call the wedding off, I’ll be able to have a breakup album. But a
better
one. There are only so many songs I can write about dating a guy and breaking up. But a broken
engagement
? Between me and the most famous man on planet Earth?” She laughed.

It was like ice cascading over my head.

“We would break the Internet, Wilde.”

I stared at her in disbelief. “You’re fucking serious right now.”

She nodded. “When have I ever
not
been serious, Wilde?”

I ran my hands through my hair and poured myself another drink. I stood there, contemplating.

“Let’s say that I say yes to this ridiculous stunt. So then what? You show up on set tomorrow and you
act
in this movie? For real. No histrionics. No wooden dialogue delivery. You’ll be the screaming, crying, perfect Hurricane Hailey when needed?”

She nodded.

“That’s the deal,” she said simply.

I paused.

“And if I say no?”

She put her hand on her chest and puffed it out, leaning into the light with wide eyes. “Oh, James! Take me away from this place!” she cooed. She sounded exactly as she had earlier on set: like complete, total, and utter shit.

I weighed my options. I didn’t have any.

“Okay. Fine,” I said. “Six months. And only in public. We’re not really in a relationship. Photos for the fucking paparazzi and that’s it. That’s all I’m doing. We go to the movie premiere together, ride the publicity train of all of that, then I dump you.”

Hailey laughed.

“Oh Wilde.
No
. I’m the one who does the leaving here. You should know that by now.”  She put her feet up on the ottoman and grabbed the guitar. “I need total commitment. I better be able to pull up TMZ and know in a
second
that you’re in love with me.”

I sighed. “Okay, Hailey. You’ve got me.”

I walked over to the door to leave the suite.

“One more thing, Wilde.” Her voice actually sounded angry for once.

I paused with my hand on the door. My heart was racing. It was never good when she waited until I was at the door to add something.

“If I get a single whiff of you even
looking
at another woman, I’m done.”
 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

OLIVIA

The sun beat down on the back of my head. I could feel the foundation beginning to melt off my face. During a break between takes, I ran over to the makeup table and took three baby wipes to take off everything except my mascara.

"Nice makeup," Bev said, shaking her puffy head of curls my direction. "Did you do it?"

I shook my head. "Four Seasons spa, actually," I replied.

I'd splurged again but this time had headed downstairs early in the morning. It was ridiculous, really. I was getting tarted up to appeal to a drunk asshole who looked ready to jump me at a moment's notice.

He wasn't the Wilder that I remembered, that was for sure. Maybe he just couldn't hold his liquor anymore. Either way, he'd reminded me way too much of family members who I'd rather not be around. And yet I’d still bothered with the pretense of makeup and costume.

I was doing a terrible job at convincing myself that I didn’t
want
him to look at me the way he was looking at me.

I made my way to craft services where they were handing out herb-infused lemonade by the icy cupful. I drank from the plastic cup deeply and fully before ladling out another.

"You really should get a clean cup next time," said a masculine voice I'd recognize anywhere. Goosebumps came over my body despite my better instincts and inclinations.

I held up my glass with sarcastic surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry. I don't think you'll like this much. Nobody's spiked it."

A flash of hurt fell across Wilder's face, but he recovered quickly with a smile.

"You look great today once again, Liv," he said.

I couldn't imagine why he was using my nickname, even though every time he did I felt a frisson of pleasure. But the fact remained that we barely knew each other. It felt intimate on a level that hadn't even existed the night we'd fucked each other's brains out.

His muscular arm brushed against mine and I felt a jolt of undeniable electricity. Somewhere underneath that body paint were dark tattoos. I had a wild flash of me tracing my tongue along them.

"I don't look great, actually. I'm basically melting out in this heat." I dabbed at my forehead with a paper napkin.

Wilder leaned down and whispered into my ear. "I'm going to keep telling you that you're beautiful until one day you believe it for yourself."

I stared up into his eyes, our faces inches away from one another. I felt a wetness between my thighs and I thought seriously about pushing him onto the table, shattering the glass cooler of lemonade and fucking his brains out.

Then I heard Janna calling everyone back to order. Wilder walked away from me and back toward Hailey, who was standing underneath a black umbrella held up by a set assistant.

"Ready? Speed...marker...action!"

I stood in the shade of the craft services tent and watched from afar. It had been a weird day full of surprises even before Wilder came over to talk to me. It was like someone had sprayed Hailey with essence of Meryl Streep.

Okay, maybe not Meryl. But her acting had improved with such a swiftness that I wondered what had happened; it seemed like an overnight change after the first day on set.

They ran through five takes of the same scene. It went flawlessly each time. I sat there, thumbing my script as I watched the two of them together. They looked completely in love, and the chemistry between them was sizzling.

I felt jealousy creeping over me against my better judgment, particularly as Fox yelled “CUT! That’s all for today, folks” and Hailey wrapped her arm around Wilder’s waist.

That was odd. She hadn’t done that before.

But when the camera stopped rolling, I thought I caught a glimmer of disgust behind Wilder’s eyes. A second later I was sure I had imagined it. Wilder opened his mouth and yelled.

“Everyone, hey! Just a second. Could we all come together for a minute?”

I glanced around me quickly to see if anyone else was as confused as I was. I was greeted by the sight of Lydia’s sunglass-covered face. She was in head-to-toe black clothing as usual and directing a pair of men who were struggling with two enormous black steamer trunks. I waved at her and she waved back.

Most of the crew had moved in closer to where Wilder and Hailey were standing.

“Okay, I think this is everyone,” Wilder said.

I turned back around, even more curious now. Part of me also felt like throwing up. I wasn’t sure where that instinct was coming from, but it was there. I tried to examine Wilder’s face for a repeat glimpse of the disgust.

He cleared his throat and put his arm around Hailey. “I just wanted you all to be the first to know…we’re getting married.”

A half-enthusiastic sound erupted from the crew. A few people clapped. Mostly there were only murmurs. My stomach dropped through my feet and I broke out in a cold sweat. The world felt like it was spinning around me. I took a step back and bumped into someone.

I felt a small hand squeeze my arm. I looked back and saw Lydia standing there, holding onto me.

“Breathe, Liv,” she whispered under her breath.

I took her advice as Hailey started speaking.

“I know this seems sudden, but honestly, this movie is the reason we were brought back together. I just wanted you all to know first. We wouldn’t be here without you all.”

I looked over at Fox, whose eyes were narrowed. He lifted his bucket hat up slightly off of his head, then returned it into its normal position. He walked over to Wilder to shake his hand. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but Wilder was beaming.

Lydia tugged on my arm. “Let’s go,” she said, pulling me off of the set and behind the tents. I realized after a few long minutes that she was walking me back to the hotel.

“You okay?” she asked when we were on a busy road.

Cars were honking and gorgeous Italian women were pushing past us while talking into their cell phones. I felt like I’d stepped through an invisible barrier back into the real world. Everything seemed intensely loud to me.

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be fine?” I asked.

Lydia sighed and pulled me into a small coffee shop. It was mostly empty. The silence and the smell of coffee relaxed me at once.

“Because I got six phone calls from former co-workers that Wilder has been chasing your curvy ass since the first second of filming. He can’t stop eye-fucking you and suddenly he’s engaged to the Queen Bitch of Pop Music?” Lydia sat down at a table and held up her hand to a waiter who ambled over. “Two espresso, please.” The man, a tall, olive-skinned man smiled and nodded.

“I don’t know what you’re-“

“Please, Liv. Stop. It’s embarrassing when you try to lie to yourself. You’re also wearing mascara. You never do that. You’re clearly trying to impress him.”

I opened and shut my mouth several times. “You’re right,” I acquiesced.

Lydia laughed. “Of course I am. So I will ask you again:
are you okay?
”

I looked around at the coffee shop, the signs in Italian, and the sunshine hitting the cobblestone street outside. “I’m in Italy. I’m employed. Of course I’m okay.”

Lydia smiled and nodded. “Good. That’s what I want to hear.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

WILDER

The worst part of the first forty-eight hours of our fake fucking engagement had to be the ring shopping. Hailey had paid a photographer, a short guy I was certain I’d seen lurking outside of the hotel, to take ‘candid’ photos to post to Instagram.

We’d spent two hours pretending to look for rings when I knew that she would choose the biggest one in the store. I had to feign affection, doling out cheek kisses and smiles while that asshole snapped away with his camera. I wasn’t used to acting for a camera for longer than about eight minutes at a time.

Two hours was a new kind of excruciating.

My cheeks felt like they were going to fall off. When we finally stepped outside, Hailey wearing the five carat yellow diamond ring she’d chosen on her finger.

It was dark out, and there was a pleasant, cool breeze sweeping across the streets.

“I’m surprised you can hold your hand up with that thing on it,” I said to her.

She rolled her eyes. “I wore ten times this weight in diamonds on one hand at the Grammy’s last year,” she retorted. Her handler rushed over, holding up his phone to show the time. Hailey sighed. “We have time for dinner down the street. The press are already there. Then dancing at a night club…security’s already been alerted.”

I felt my eyes start to roll back into my skull but I caught them just in time. The photographer was still lurking a few feet away. I opened my mouth and faked what I hoped was a convincing yawn.

“Hailey, baby. I’m exhausted. I’ve got an early wake up tomorrow. Rain check?” I put my arms around her waist and pulled her close to me.

She was wearing a pasted-on smile. She was also trying her damnedest to be ‘on’ for the photographer. I could tell she secretly wanted to scrape her red nails down my cheek until I bled.

“Baby, I think that you’re hungry and we should go to dinner.”

I leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. It felt like granite to me. She put her hands on my chest.

“I know, but I don’t want to burn out. Go without me. Seriously. Show off your new rock.”

She grimaced and reached up to pull me into a full kiss. I resisted putting my tongue into her mouth, instead doing a soap-opera-kiss. I felt nothing as she slipped her own between my lips. I pulled away.

“I’ll see you later tonight, then, baby.”

She walked away in her six-inch heels. The photographer chased after her.

I breathed a sigh of relief and slipped through the dark streets of the city.

I needed two things: a shower and a workout. In that order.

The only thing that could get my mind off of this fucking shit show was a ten mile run.

I started jogging so I could get back to the hotel as quickly as I could. The paparazzi had cleared out, so I ducked through the front door and stepped into the elevator, tapping my foot as it climbed the floors.

I exhaled.

My head was pounding again. I never used to get headaches, but this week was putting my body through the fucking wringer. I stepped into the hallway and used the keycard to get into Harrison’s room. I was surprised that he wasn’t in there.

I stripped off my button-down shirt and slacks. Hailey had insisted I dress up for our photo shoot at Tiffany’s. I ran the water in the shower, leaning against the countertop and staring in the mirror. I was thinking dangerous thoughts.