Miss Congeniality (6 page)

A quick crying jag followed by a stint with wardrobe and makeup, and Brea was ready to do battle again. That was what she started looking at her encounters with Lance as—a fucking war. He was making her look stupid and unprofessional, two traits she hated. Brea breathed deeply, smoothing out the skirt which was part of today’s wardrobe, and decided what she needed to do was get away from him. She was going to have a strictly-professional relationship with Lance from here on out, despite the fact every time he touched her she wanted to sink into him. And one of the ways to deal with him was to answer the text message she got an hour ago from Greg Peters, begging for a second date. She and Greg had gone out two weeks ago, but she had written him off as too boring, blowing off his earlier text messages. However, today Brea was thinking he seemed like a pretty good bet. If anything, it would at least give her a couple of Lance-free hours.

Having made her decision, Brea went onto the set with a new resolve. Although some part of her southern hospitality meant she should apologize for being unprofessional, she knew Jonah wouldn’t want an apology. He wanted perfection, and she was determined to give it to him this afternoon.

“Ahhh…the princess returns,” Jonah said mockingly, hands on hips and ready to go. She didn’t respond, and he wouldn’t expect her to.

“Where do you want me?” Brea asked, trying to figure out where they were in the script based on the setup of the set.

“Over there.” He pointed where Lance was standing. “We are going to try again,” he drawled for emphasis, “and see if we can’t get this scene right.” She moved toward Lance, giving him a slight smile when she stood beside him. She would have slapped that damn smirk off his face if she weren’t already in a bit of a tough spot from earlier, so she decided just to ignore him.

“Let’s go people! We don’t have all day!” Jonah clapped his hands for attention, signaling Brea’s time to shine.

Eight grueling hours later, and Brea was thrilled when Jonah yelled, “Cut!” He nodded at her, showing his satisfaction. That was Jonah. He wouldn’t tell you he was satisfied with you; he would just nod. She turned to Raquel and Clare, who were standing off to the side, and smiled in relief. Jonah had promised they could leave after this scene, having gone through four pages of script today.

“One day down—” Brea started.

“About a million to go,” Clare finished.

Brea groaned, “Don’t remind me.”

Raquel chuckled. “I know, right. You want to go grab some dinner?”

Brea shook her head. “Can’t. I have a date.” She turned at the growl over her shoulder to see Lance, looking like he was ready to spit nails. She waved mockingly at him and turned back to the girls, hoping he would hear everything she was saying. It would only serve him right.

Raquel looked confused. “Who do you have a date with? Last we heard—”

“Greg,” she answered quickly, not wanting Raquel to give away the fact she was single. Best not to give away all her secrets; she was trying to make him jealous, not suspicious.

“But I thought you said—”

She was going to strangle Raquel, who wasn’t playing along like Brea wanted her. “That the last date was pretty good,” she cut her off. “He texted today, and I decided to go see him tonight.” Neither girl looked convinced, but she didn’t care about their opinion. She cared about Lance’s opinion, but he was too busy talking to someone else.
A lot of good that did,
she thought warily; he wasn’t even paying attention. Why she cared, when she was trying to get rid of him, was something to ponder later.

“I’ll let you know what happens.” She waved goodbye, leaving quickly to get away from their questioning glances. Brea wasn’t stupid. She knew they wanted to ask more, but she didn’t want to talk about it right now. Plus, Lance didn’t even hear, so what was the damn point. Feeling a bit dejected, Brea made her way back to her trailer to gather her purse so she could get ready for her date.

“Brea, wait up!” Lance was running toward her. She barely looked at him; he had ignored her most of the afternoon, and she just needed to leave.

“I said wait up.” He grabbed her arm, turning her toward him.

“What do you want?” she asked, pulling away from his grip and crossing her arms.

“Nothing, I just wanted to say bye.” There had to be a catch. She waited, and sure enough, he didn’t disappoint. “And wish you well on your date,” he said on a sneer.

“Ahhh.” She moved closer, crowding into his space. “The truth comes out. Jealous?”

He scoffed. “He would have to be real competition in order for me to be jealous.” He moved closer, where the slightest movement would result in a kiss. “And we both know who you really want to be with you tonight.”

She arched her brow. “And who would that be?”

“Me,” he whispered softly, brushing his lips across hers lightly.

She pulled back, staring into amused green eyes. “Is that so?” She bit her lip, causing Lance’s eyes to drop down. He licked his lips, leaning down, when a series of beeps sounded from her pocket. She jerked back, the moment gone, before she reached in her pocket to retrieve her phone. Lance stood there, running his hands down his face, watching her as she glanced at the phone display. It was Greg confirming their time, but that well-placed text did a hell of a lot more than confirming the time.

“Um…” she didn’t know what to say, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“That the loser?” He gestured toward her phone.

She crossed her arms. “He’s not a loser. And whoever was texting—” she waved her phone in his face “—is none of your business.”

“Then why are you trying so hard to make sure I know it?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t try to eavesdrop on personal conversations.”

He rubbed his hands through his hair, causing brown pieces to sprout up. She figured that was what it would look like after sex, causing her body to tingle in anticipation. “Maybe you should just stop trying to pretend like you’re not attracted to me.”

She held up her hands in surrender. “I can’t talk to you. Your ego is as big as this damn room. Not everyone wants you.”

“Three things. One, my ego is not the only thing that’s big, which I’m sure you felt the other night. Two, I don’t think everyone wants me. I think YOU want me, just like I want you, and I’m pretty sure if I reached in your pants right now you would be wet and willing. Whatever excuse you’re giving yourself to stop this won’t work forever. And three, try not to think about me too much tonight. Wouldn’t want to make your date jealous.” He kissed her, his tongue running across the seam of her lips. Brea was determined not to react but found herself parting her lips to allow his tongue in anyway, while she wrapped her arms around his neck. He pulled her closer so she could feel his erection pushing into her stomach.

She lifted her leg on his thigh. He pushed her back against the wall and rocked against her while he rubbed his hand up her thigh. He moved his lips, pressing little kisses along her neck, and she moved her hand to rub it along the back of his. He continued his ministrations for so long she thought she was going to combust, or drag him to the floor. He pulled back slightly, leaning his forehead against hers. They were both breathing heavily, Lance rubbing his hands down her arms while Brea tried to right herself by pulling her leg down and moving her hands from behind his neck. He kissed her softly and stepped back, releasing her. She licked her lips, tucking her hair behind her ears, not knowing what to say.

“Don’t think about me too much.” Lance winked and left, his steps echoing through the hallway.

“Too late…” Brea whispered to the empty hallway.

“I’
ve got a surprise for you.”

“You do?” Brea asked Greg excitedly. Maybe she was wrong about him and the first impressions she had a couple of weeks ago were misleading. “What is it?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise,” he replied seriously. She pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it. Unbelievable. He sounded like he was guarding national secrets.

“You do know I am the girl who reads the last page of a book first. I really want to know.”

“Do you really?” he asked curiously. She rolled her eyes. Maybe he was as boring as she remembered. But she had already agreed, and she was never one to turn down a surprise.

“Of course. Who doesn’t?”

“Me,” he replied slowly, his tone suggesting he thought she was a bit crazy. Which she was for agreeing to this.

Okay. So, here was that awkward moment where the joke clearly fell flat, and the notion of spending an evening with him makes me want to poke out my eyeballs.

“Well, that’s good to know,” Brea said with more enthusiasm than she felt. “Where do you want to meet tonight?”

Greg seemed to mull it over. “Just come to my house, and then we can go to dinner after that.”

“Sounds good. See you in a bit.” Brea hung up, determined to make the best of this evening.

“Wowser!” Greg said when he opened the door to a smiling Brea. He leaned forward and kissed her on both cheeks, European style, then looked her up and down again. Brea glanced at the dark skinny jeans and light-blue top, complete with black ballet flats, silver bangle bracelets, and her long beaded chain. She didn’t see anything amazing about her outfit, but Greg clearly thought there was because he wouldn’t stop grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I like everything about you,” he answered, head bobbing up and down like a puppy. He stepped back to let her in the house. “Come on in, we’ll get to the surprise before dinner.” She walked through the foyer, turning back to wait for him.

“So, where is this surprise you’ve been talking about?” she asked, following his direction when he pointed toward the living room.

“In here. You won’t believe the excitement I felt when I found this the other day.” He walked swiftly into the other room, going to the desk at the other end. She stopped in the doorway, observing him rifle through the pile of papers stacked atop it. Brea wasn’t sure how he found anything in the mess, but he soon shouted, “Found it!” He started waving a book wildly.

“What is that?” she asked curiously, walking closer while he continued to wave it so she couldn’t read it. Brea grabbed it when she reached him, looking down at the book he was so eager to show her.

“It’s Mad Libs!” he shouted excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“It is!” She shook her hands, feigning her own enthusiasm.
What the hell have I gotten myself into? I am on a date with a damn middle-schooler.
Brea watched him, so thrilled he was about to pee himself, not sure how she was going to fake it. This was going to be harder than faking an orgasm. At least then, you had a slight chance of pleasure. This was going to be Hell, pure and simple.

One excruciating hour later, their game of Mad Libs only slightly more fun than a root canal with no Novocain, and dinner was shaping up to be another horrendous affair. He really was incredibly dull, hence the reason she hadn’t called him following the first date. Greg was a stockbroker, so he regaled her of stories about the market tanking and projected up-and-comers, a topic Brea had zero interest in discussing. Zero. At least he brought her to one of her favorite places, a mom-and-pop pizza place, which had the best supreme pizza and garlic knots. Brea knew the owners, so they always accommodated her by putting her at a table in the back so she wasn’t bothered too much whenever she ate there. It also helped that it was off the beaten path and not a lot of people knew she frequented the place.