Noah (13 page)

My phone rang, and speak of the devil, it was the location scout.

"Hey, Tiff," I answered. "How's Paris?"

"French," she quipped. "And I'm done. I've found an amazing street in the Fifth Quarter where we can shoot, and the front of one building looks exactly like the one where April's is supposed to be in the Eighteenth. Mr. Wright and I are working on the permits as we speak."

"That’s great." As the elevator came to a stop, I put my free hand on Julian's lower back and ushered him out of the cart. "You get the view for April's apartment, too?"

We'd had another location scout from the start. Luckily, Tennyson had fired him when he'd suggested a "lovely view of the Eiffel Tower."

Because a starving painter could afford that…

"Yes, sir, all stock-photo ready and sent back to LA."

"Terrific," I replied. "I'll see you soon, then."

Pocketing my phone, I side-eyed Julian and found him wearing a weird little smile.

"What's with the smirk, kid?"

His smile grew. "I like this." He looked out over the large, open space. Cameras, dollies, lighting—everything pointed toward the attic apartment we'd set up in a corner. "I liked last night, too. You were all excited, and I can see why. It rubs off."

"Way too many dirty puns in one go." I hugged his neck to me and kissed the side of his head. "I'm glad you enjoyed that, though. It means a lot to me." Maybe he wasn't like Emma. "Okay, so this is a closed set." We approached the apartment where Sophie was pacing and rehearsing lines with herself. "It means fewer people and silence. You can say hey to her later, yeah?"

"Of course." He nodded. "You do your thing. I'm going to, um…yeah." He retrieved a notebook from his messenger bag.

I smiled and inclined my head. My musical genius was ready to work.

"All right, everyone. Focus!" Lucia came up from behind me and got busy.

She must've taken the stairs.

Those who had no business here scattered, leaving only nine or ten people. No one approached Sophie. She knew her mark, and we'd discussed everything before lunch.

She blew out a breath and rolled her shoulders. No longer a movie star, but the young graffiti artist on the run from her family. April was not only bipolar, but she had schizophrenia too, and she refused medication because she thought everyone was conspiring against her.

Her sole focus was to tell her story through art, so her son would know her truth.

Brooklyn's company Shadow Light had been hired for the project, and she'd worked her magic on Sophie. With makeup, she had sunken-in eyes and a more defined bone structure, and a ratty cotton dress and unwashed hair finished her look of poverty and neglect.

Lucia took a step back after everything was done, knowing I wanted to take this one.

"Cameras rolling," I announced. Ignoring the monitor next to me, I stood by Paul instead. "Action."

Sophie continued her pacing, and slowly but surely, her muttering and whispering became louder. She gestured with her hands and shook her head, at war with herself.

"They're wrong," she mumbled over and over. "I'm good for him." She spoke of her son, whom she was in no condition to take care of. "Nobody else, nobody else…" She stuttered a breath and walked over to her canvases. "My baby will see. You will see, baby—they're wrong!" she screamed.

From there, she lost it. She tore through her apartment and threw breakaways at the walls. Bottles, paint jars, cans, a lamp, and a chair.

I wanted close-ups of glass shattering against the wall, paint thinner splashing, and paint brushes landing on the floor.

"Mommy's gonna make it real nice for you," she cried. Reaching her bed, she yanked off the stained pillowcases and sheets. "They can't find us here, and when you get back, you'll see. It's our home. I'll make it pretty and safe because Mommy loves you, and—" She broke off on a sob and fisted her hair. "They don't know, they don't know…"

The meltdown continued, and I made a rolling motion to keep it going. Eventually, she reached the climax of the scene, and I felt it to the bone when she bent over and let out a blood-curdling scream.

I checked in with each operator, making sure they got that, and they nodded in return, slowly moving back the dollies the cameras were set up on. Only Paul stayed, and he jerked the camera to the side as Sophie ended up on the floor.

She panted.

Everything was quiet, the tension electric.

"Cut!"

She would get some good fucking loving from Tennyson after I sent him the footage.

"You aced it, sweetie." I walked over to her and helped her up off the floor. "You okay?"

"Yeah." She grinned and took a deep breath, her hands shaking. "God, that was draining. Did you get everything? I'm sorry I suck on seconds and thirds."

She sure as fuck didn't suck, but yeah, we got it. "You're a star." I kissed her on the forehead before returning behind the camera. "Moving on, people!"

I glanced over at Julian and grinned. His expression could only be described as passionate. In the moment, caught up. He scribbled quickly in his notebook while twisting a lock of hair between his fingers.

Whatever he was jotting down, I didn't wanna interrupt, so I got back to work, and fuck it if I didn't enjoy having him here.

Chapter 13

Two weeks later

"You're right." I rubbed a hand over my beard and sighed tiredly. "How did I fucking miss that?"

Tennyson shook his head and shut off the flat screen. "Give that question to the script supervisor instead."

Either way, this meant retakes. The scene that followed April's meltdown had a major continuity error, in that Sophie's character was wearing an accessory on the wrong goddamn finger. And I called it major because the ring, with a butterfly on it, would be in focus during the following scene, and it had to be on the right finger.

At least I had an excuse to cancel my last session with Dr. Kendall. This would set us back one day of shooting, so there was no way I'd have time for a shrink appointment. Which I didn't feel like I needed, anyway.

"I'll give Shawn and Lucia a call," I muttered.

"Dinner's ready, guys!" Sophie called from the kitchen. "Kayden! Ivy! Go wash up!"

"I'll go get Julian," I said, pulling out my phone. I could call Shawn on the way.

Tennyson stood up. "I heard he won his first Five Dollar Friday today."

I chuckled, peering down the hall to see Kayden and Ivy rushing into the bathroom. "He did, yeah." I faced Tennyson again. "It caught him off guard, so he followed Sophie's lead."

It was customary for directors, actors, and others who were above the line, so to speak, to give it to someone else if they won, or buy everyone a beer or whatever.

Sophie had won once, and she'd doubled the pot and drawn another name.

She was popular, and now so was Julian.

Technically, he was on the payroll as my PA now, but he hadn't started working yet and didn't feel comfortable taking winnings when—in his words—he'd cruised right on to a film set without accomplishing anything for it.

Kayden and Ivy yelled that their hands were clean, and I took my leave and headed across the hall. Shawn didn't answer his phone, so I left him a message.

Entering my loft, I was about to call out for Julian, but I closed my mouth before I did. Nicky was evidently here, and I heard them arguing in Julian's room.

This was where I was supposed to give them privacy.

Supposed
to.

Instead, I was the nosy motherfucker who moved closer to his door to listen in.

"I'm just sayin', I'm getting sick of waiting," I heard Nicky spit out. "It sucks that you're depressed, but I have a life, too."

I was taken aback by that. Instantly furious with Nicky and beyond worried about Julian. I knew he was on antidepressants, but he went to Kendall. Weren't things going better?

Goddammit, I should've paid more attention.

"I can't exactly control how I feel." Julian's voice was less condescending. "I told you from the start I wasn't ready for much—"

"It's not about that!" Nicky was pissed, and fuck, so was I. If he pushed Julian, I'd have no goddamn issue putting him in his place. "You of all people should know I couldn’t care less about a relationship. I wanna have
fun
, and it's been months since you even touched me."

"No one's stopping you from having fun," Julian snapped. "Call one of your four other guys and screw them all you want. I've
fucking
told you, I'm not in that place."

You tell him, kid
.

I was proud of him. Hell, I was impressed, too.

"Are you jealous?" Nicky asked.

Julian laughed. "Quite the opposite, Nick. I like spending time with you,
especially
when you've just been with one of your playthings. Less pressure on me."

There shouldn’t be
any
pressure on him. Not that kind.

"I feel tossed aside, though," Nicky said. "I mean, I went to all that trouble for tomorrow, and you turn me down like that?"

I tensed up.

Tomorrow was Julian's birthday. If he bailed on us, I'd be bummed, no lie. He didn't know we were throwing him a party, but I'd told him not to make plans elsewhere.

"I wasn't born yesterday," Julian replied impatiently. "Telling me you have a hotel room booked and a romantic dinner planned only means one thing. You want to score."

Damn straight. Christ, cheap move. Hotel room? This wasn't prom night.

"Besides," Julian went on, "you know Noah's got plans."

Nicky scoffed. "That fuckin' dude… He's no different from the other Hollywood pricks. I can forgive him for putting me out of work for no reason at all, but can't you see he's playing you?"

The fuck?

"Listen to me, babe." He lowered his voice. "He obviously needs you, and whenever he feels you slipping through his fingers, he does something to reel you back in. Now he's got you hooked on his movie. It's all you talk about."

I clenched my jaw, furious, but an insecure part of me wondered if it was true. For about two seconds, and then I shook my head. He was fucking crazy. I wanted nothing but the best for Julian. He was everything to me.

Holy fuck.

That was a cold shower and a slap in the face all at once.

It was true, though, wasn't it? Julian meant the world to me.

I swallowed hard and ran a hand over my head, my heart pounding.

What the fuck did this mean?

"You don't know him like I do," Julian said quietly. "He's a good man. There's no hidden agenda with him. So you can either be happy for me, or you can be bitter. I know I got my job unfairly, but I work hard. I'm writing around the clock, and I'm feeling really good about his film. I think it's magnificent."

Fuck. I wasn't sure I deserved all that praise. It did something to me. My chest felt tight and warm, and not in an uncomfortable way.

"I support you," Nicky was quick to say. "Come here."

I was pretty sure I was figuring Nicky out, and if I was right, I'd punch the daylights outta him. He wouldn’t be using Julian—or any of us—as an
in
into the industry. Over my dead body.

Their fight seemed to be over, so I backed off. But I had a feeling Julian's head was spinning. He was a smart guy. He'd see Nicky for who he was.

"You should go," Julian said, clearing his throat. "I have dinner at Tennyson and Sophie's."

That was my cue to go. No need for them to find out I was an eavesdropping asshole.

*

I was up with the sun the next morning, first to run and then to get Julian's gift at Brooklyn and Asher's house in Malibu. Next, I drove out to Daniel and Zane's beach house to let in the party planner and the caterers.

Daniel was the man. His idea to throw Julian a party there was brilliant.

"We'll all be here around four," I told the party planner. "Daniel and Zane get in from New York earlier, though, so they'll be here to bug you."

She giggled. "I've worked with Daniel before. I know he's a hard-ass."

All right, then.

I got back on the road. Traffic was a drag, but I got some work calls made along the way, so I wasn't complaining.

At my last stop, I picked up breakfast, and then I returned to the loft. Julian was still sleeping, so I checked in on his gift, making sure it was still…
alive
, which it was, thank you very much. Adjusting the lid, I placed it on the couch for now, and then I set up breakfast at the table.

"Damn." I was spent. I hadn't showered yet, so I got that done too, before throwing on a pair of sweats and a wife-beater.

Time to wake up the birthday kid.

I grabbed the box and knocked on Julian's door.

He mumbled something incoherently, and I took that as an invitation.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead."

As I sat down on the edge of his bed, he threw the covers over his head and muttered something in German. It held the same tone as
get lost
, but it probably meant he was happy to see me.

"Hey." I put my hand on his hip and shook him a little. "You gonna miss out on your own birthday?"

He grunted into his pillow. "Mom would let me sleep in."

"
Dude
." I didn't fucking think so. "Don't you make up lies about my sister. She did no such thing, the little terror."

That earned me a sleepy chuckle, and he knew I had him. If people thought I got up early, it had nothing on Mia.

"You lazy fuck, get up," I said. "When I was twenty-four, I'd already been up for hours."

He snorted and pushed away the covers, scrubbing his hands down his face. "When you were twenty-four, you probably hadn't gone to bed yet."

That, too.

I averted my eyes from his exposed upper body and placed his gift next to him. "Open your present."

He grinned lazily and sat up. "Aren't you supposed to sing?"

"Not unless you're suicidal." I widened my eyes. "That would be cruel."

"Fair enough," he chuckled. "Okay, so…" He eyed the box and fingered the lid. "I just open it?"

"Try." I smirked.

He rolled his eyes and then removed the lid, and he froze when he saw the cat I'd adopted for him the other day. The chunky fur ball wasn’t a kitten, but she wasn’t fully grown, either. And like a true Hollywood pet, she would soon be fit for travel so Julian could bring the little shit to Paris.

I rubbed the back of my neck, hoping he'd like it. "I, uh, I bought food and shit for it, too. Her, I mean. A litter box—"

Before I could finish my sentence, Julian threw his arms around my neck and squeezed the fuck out of me.

"Thank you. I—thank you."

I let out a breathy laugh and hugged him back. "You're welcome, sweetheart."

Jesus Christ, it felt good to have him in my arms again. It was the same goddamn sense of relief.

It went beyond comfort, though. I had to suck it up and admit I was inexplicably drawn to him, no matter how fucking difficult it was. Spending my life avoiding complications would get me nowhere.

I wasn't sure I was capable of avoiding this one, anyway.

I pressed a smooch to his shoulder,
wanting
.

Fuck you, Dr. Kendall. Fuck you all the way off.

She'd poked and prodded with her mind-fucking, always curious, always wanting me to talk about Julian. This was why I had refused. I hadn't been ready to admit
shit
. But somehow, I was betting on her knowing, either way. She'd dropped it at "attraction," but she knew it was more.

I hadn't been blind. Well, maybe that too, but mostly it had been denial. Part of me still was in denial. But she—that sneaky bitch—wouldn’t have ranted about my family wanting us to be happy if she hadn't, on some level, known my fears.

Julian eased out of the hug, and he picked up his new pet.

I watched them, having nothing better to do. It was kinda cute, though. Julian didn't say anything, and I guessed it had something to do with his eyes being glassier than normal.

"You might wanna put the cat on a diet," I said. 'Cause she was sorta fat. All white, or beige-brown—whatever—and fluffy and fat.

"No way. She's perfect." Julian grinned as the cat licked its fur. "Ragdolls get big."

"Ragawhat, now?"

"Ragdoll. It's a breed—the only one I know, really. Our cat in Berlin was one," he murmured. She seemed to like him, if rubbing herself all over him was any indication. "Is she adopted?"

I nodded and scratched my beard.

"Makes sense she's a mixed breed, then. There're some faint stripes here. I love her." He stroked her belly, and she turned and twisted, wrapping her tail around his wrist. "Linda named our old one Fluffy." He grimaced, and I couldn’t blame him. "I'll think of something better for my new cuddle girl."

"Great, I'm jealous of a fucking cat." I rolled my eyes and stood up. "Come on. You and your girlfriend are invited to breakfast."

Julian chuckled and pulled on a pair of jeans. "Noah Collins jealous? Maybe hell has frozen over. What do you have to be jealous over?" He picked up the cat again and followed me out to the living room.

"I miss cuddling," I said with a shrug. Everything was set up on the table; I just needed a quick detour to the kitchen to get the coffee. "I'm a proud cuddle slut."

"I thought you had one of your million casual flings to cuddle with. Or that Summer woman." He sat down at the table and let the cat get familiar with the living room. "Damn, Noah. You didn't have to go through all this trouble. Did you buy
everything
I like?"

I ignored that, stuck on the Summer bit. "Summer?"

He nodded with a mouthful of donut. Of course, he'd go for the unhealthy crap first. I should've waited.

"I found her card in your jeans when I did laundry." He took another bite. "I've seen her name pop up on your phone a few times, too." He shot me a grin, though it looked strained. "I didn’t mean to pry, but I saw the preview of one message. She is apparently fond of your kissing skills."