The Accidental Movie Star (22 page)

“I’ve seen it.” Caz rubbed his thumb against her wrist.

Ashley tried to pull her arm free, but Caz stepped closer. Ashley said, “Your appearance will cause drama, big high school drama. You couldn’t understand, but you’d add to it.”

A horn honked from outside.

“You’d add to it big time.”

Caz slid his hand to the upper part of her arm. “You can handle tabloid reporters and crazy directors. You can handle high schoolers.” His voice deepened. “I have to talk to you.”

The horn honked again.

“No.”

“Please, we have to talk, and if you don’t get me into the dance, I bet someone else at your high school will.”

Ashley stepped in close and looked him in the eyes. She searched their blue-green depths for his intent, but she didn’t have to look hard. Working with him all last summer told her how much he liked to get his way. He’d do it. She said, “No scene at the dance. If you go, we call a truce, and we’ll talk after.”

Caz nodded and clasped her hand. She tried to jerk out of his grip, but he tightened his hold. She tried to keep her fingers from trembling at the sensation of holding his hand again. He followed her back out into the lighted darkness of suburbia. Two limos were parked in front of her house. That was a first. Caz gestured toward the one in front and released her. “Let me grab my jacket.”

Her fingers flexed at the loss of his, and she retreated to the second limo. Opening the door, she saw Marissa’s sparkling face. Marissa snapped her tube of plum lip gloss closed, shoved it into her bag, and held up her wrist. “Check out the corsage my date bought me. Eggplant ribbons to match my dress. He’s getting the biggest kiss ever for remembering that my favorite is an orchid.”

“Gorgeous.” Ashley held up hers. “Mom picked white roses.” The iridescent ribbons wound around the petals.

“Pretty.”

Ashley moved further into the car and took a seat, leaving the door open behind her. In a rushed voice she said, “Caz showed and called a temporary truce. I’m bringing him.”

Marissa’s jaw dropped, and she didn’t have time to close her mouth before Caz climbed in and took the seat next to Ashley, which was probably good, because it would have fallen open again when Caz grabbed Ashley’s hand then smiled his movie star smile. “Hi, I’m Caz.”

Marissa’s mouth snapped closed and she said nothing.

Ashley totally got it. Caz was stunning in person. She hadn’t let that faze her this summer, because once he became a real person to her, she just saw him as Caz, not as a famous star. Seeing him after all this time let her see him objectively. He’d put on a dark jacket. There were no other words—Caz was movie star handsome.

The limo moved forward.

Caz said, “Ashley shared one or two of your texts. They helped us get through some crazy long shoots. Did you really wear a fry costume?”

Marissa sent Ashley a mild glare then laughed. “With crazy pride. So, uh, you’ve gone to many of these things?”

“I was tutored on set since the age of fourteen. I’ve never been to a proper high school dance.”

Marissa said, “Well, it’ll be normal until they realize who you are.”

Tensing, Ashley turned to warn Caz, “Everyone will have a cell phone.”

Caz shrugged. “Probably.”

Ashley looked down for a second, then held his gaze. “Okay. I want you to go with me.”

***

They got out at Michelle’s and her mom took photos. Together they were a group of twelve. Caz stayed in the back with her, and everyone, so absorbed in the photos, their dates, and their parents, accepted him as her date, Caz.

The twelve of them crushed into the limo built to hold ten, and Caz pulled Ashley onto his lap. She slid her arm around his neck and whispered in his ear, “You’re good at the truce. Are you acting?”

Caz slid a hand to her face and put his lips to her ear to whisper, “No, this will be fun. Your friends are cool.”

“They are.”

He said, “If I wasn’t nice, you’d probably kick me out and make me get into my own car.”

“I would.”

Steve pulled out a bottle of champagne. How had he hidden that from Michelle’s parents?

Michelle lined up champagne flutes, Steve laced them with champagne, and Marissa topped them off with orange juice, describing the way to get perfect fresh-squeezed, and passed the glasses out.

Steve saluted their school mascot. “To the Dragons.”

“Cheers.”

That was when Michelle recognized Caz. She choked and stared. To Michelle’s credit, she said nothing but sent a frantic look at Marissa, who nodded.

The limo jolted over another speed bump, sliding Ashley closer to Caz’s chest. They were nearing the school, and it was hard to stay upright, so she relaxed against him.

Caz whispered in her ear, “Orange juice and limos.”

***

Caz held her hand, and they walked up the front sidewalk surrounded by her friends, a loud, laughing group. At the entrance to the school commons, a photographer took their picture under a red balloon arch, but after that flash, they entered the gym, where the only light was provided by tiny white bulbs that twinkled.

Her friends grabbed a table in the corner, by the back wall. Ashley worried Caz would bring up their argument, but he didn’t. He seemed to want to hang out. He danced, laughed, and drank the watery strawberry punch like everyone else. The evening was exhilarating, made all the better by the fact that it was too dark for anyone to recognize him. Her friends, who had by now figured out who he was, were cool enough to be quiet about his identity.

When the principal announced the King and Queen, and the cute couple took the floor, a spotlight lit up their dance and the strains of the “Love’s Romantic Ruin” ballad emerged from the speakers. Ashley sucked in a breath and stiffened. She knew the song would play tonight, it was too popular not to, but the music sounded bittersweet. Her gaze swung to Caz.

Caz stood with a quirked eyebrow and tilted chin. His hand raised, palm up. “That’s
our
song.” He led her to the dance floor in one of those rare perfect moments.

Head up, eyes glistening, she let him pull her into two-step position. Caz smiled wickedly then put her hand around his neck so his could slide around her waist.

Her right hand touched the back of his silky hair, and she toyed with the strands, while her left squeezed his hand. He’d disobeyed her about making a scene, but in the sweetest way possible. She closed her eyes, embracing the exquisite moment.

The Queen said, “Ashley, what are you doing?”

Caz stared at the Queen until her mouth fell open and she stopped dancing. Her partner bumped into her, and he stared at Ashley, then at Caz, then back.

The flash of a cell phone lit the dance floor. A second joined the first. A whisper reached them. More cameras flashed and the whispers got louder. That was when Ashley knew the dance had to end. She closed her eyes for a moment, leaning against his chest, wanting just one more perfect second.

Then as the song transitioned, she took his hand and said, “Run.”

***

Once they settled inside the limo, Ashley tensed, and her stomach knotted. The end of the dance equaled the end of the truce. She looked out the window, upset at what was about to happen.

Caz turned her toward him. “About the —”

“Wait,” Ashley said. “I want one more minute.” She slipped onto his lap and put her arms around his neck. Leaning forward, she gave him a soft, sweet kiss. His mouth felt familiar, warm. Caz tasted like strawberry punch and the best parts of summer. Ashley said, “Thanks for the dance.”

Caz wrapped an arm around her knees before she slipped away and he leaned into her. His right hand slid behind her head and his lips moved against hers, firm and intent.

She parted her mouth. Heaven. Rubbing his back, she resented the material that kept him from her and pushed closer.

He released her mouth to draw in a shaky breath. Her brain began functioning again, and she pulled away and brushed a hand over hair. “I —” Ashley shook her head, not really knowing what to say. Caz muttered something in French and she leaned in eagerly, hoping her additional semester of the language would help her understand him, but he didn’t repeat the words.

The limo slowed in front of her house, and a flash lit the evening. The flash came from her driveway, from the large number of paparazzi standing in her yard.

Caz’s face stilled and she scooted away. His expression said truce over.

Ashley looked out the tinted window, relieved the strangers couldn’t see in. She’d longed to see Caz, but it had been five months, and he hadn’t called once. It was so easy for him to have a fight with her and write her off, ignoring her attempts to explain like they didn’t matter, like she was a liar. He’d returned for one reason: her sketchpad.

As if reading her thoughts, Caz said, “Your drawings are beautiful.”

Ashley crossed her arms over her chest and felt her face flush.

“Really. The art director gave me the book. He said to tell you they were good. Your sketches are amazing.”

Ashley whispered, “You believe me now?”

“I believe you weren’t writing secret notes about the cast and the set, yeah.”

Her shoulders eased until more flashes came from the driveway. “And the press showing up everywhere? The pills?”

Caz shoved a hand through his hair. “You were my assistant, the only one who knew where we were going to be sometimes when the photographers showed up.”

Her spine stiffened, and she looked at him. “That’s not quite true. You knew. Maybe you wanted more media coverage.” She dropped her arms and scooted forward.

Caz rolled his eyes. “That’s ridiculous. Look, if your dad or the studio asked you to tip someone off, tell me. Just admit it.”

“I didn’t do it.”

“I found the pills in your purse.”

“Then someone put them there.”

His whole body looked tense, as if he was fighting with himself.

“Caz, there’s never going to be perfect black and white evidence or even perfect people. People screw up, but I’m telling you, I didn’t do any of those things, and you have to decide right now. Either you believe me or you don’t.”

He stared.

“Come on, I know you’ve got some instincts left, dig deep. Do you believe me?”

“Yes.”

Ashley sagged against the seat, not knowing why his trust mattered so much, but it did. She nodded then took hold of both of his hands and squeezed his fingers. “Good.” She paused a moment, and then said, “Now, I’m ready for your apology.”

“I want you to go out with me.”

She shook her head and drew back. “That’s not an apology.”

“Ashley.”

The fact that he couldn’t find it in himself to apologize or even seem to recognize what he’d put her through was enough to convince Ashley that they couldn’t be together. She reached for the door handle, trying to speak despite the lump in her throat. “No, trust me on this. We wouldn’t work.” She slipped from the car and ran through the flashing lights of the paparazzi into the house.

***

In the upcoming week, Ashley saw Caz on daytime and late night talk shows. If she missed one, her fellow students were quick to mention the interviews and ask about him. All she would say was that she and Caz had become friends over the summer when she’d been assigned as his gofer, which sounded a lot less important than working as his personal assistant.

“Simply say you went out and broke up, no story,” Marissa said.

Ashley shook her head. “Someone would put it on Facebook or Twitter.” She was determined to salvage her privacy, plus she didn’t want to look back. She wanted to move on.

Chapter 26

Ashley tugged her bag off the carousel at LAX, careful not to let the garment bag she’d carried on hit the linoleum. It held the three designer dresses Dad had sent, and she wanted to send pictures to Powder so she’d wear the right one to the movie premiere.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dad said.

She turned in surprise, and found Dad standing behind her with pink roses in his hand. He held an arm out for a hug.

***

Ashley could not contain her excitement as her dad escorted her down the red carpet on premiere night of
Eternal Loss,

Eternal Revenge
. They showed their credentials to security and were shown inside the roped-off area that led into the theater.

Dad eyed some other suit-wearers. “I see Russ. I need to talk to him for a second. Want to join me so I can show off my gorgeous daughter?”

Ashley froze. Russ. That was the director. She’d never told Dad about getting fired, and in the back of her mind, she had a real fear that she’d be escorted away from the premiere as soon as an executive spotted her. She turned, keeping her back to the director, and said, “No, thanks. I’ll see you inside.” Ashley tried to keep the squeak from her voice.

“Have fun.” Dad patted her shoulder and headed toward the men.

Ashley swallowed and moved further in. The electric crowd of screaming fans with their flashing cameras was contained by ropes and strategically placed security guards. Ashley snapped their photo from this side of the ropes and forwarded the picture to Mom and Marissa.

A ton of movie stars not attached to the film came to the premiere. While it was fun to see them, Ashley wasn’t starstruck. She’d really met too many actors growing up who’d come and gone in popularity to feel awe.

“Ashley!”

Ashley turned at the sound of her name and saw Powder, standing with her arms out for a hug. Powder looked rock-star in a black and silver gown. Her hair had grown several inches but was still spiked out. Ashley hugged her, and her own dress—white and filmy—swirled around them with the motion and the faint California breeze. “Thanks for helping me choose a dress.”

Powder said, “Your dad knows some killer designers. And you look perfect, very springtime.”

“You look so cool.” Ashley admired Powder’s style. She’d never be able to carry off metal studs.

Powder smiled her thanks then eyed the growing crowd of arriving stars. “I can’t leave Jason or some starlet will make a play at him. Find me later, okay?”