Very Twisted Things (Briarcrest Academy #3) (28 page)

I sucked up some nerve. I had to see this through. “No, I’m good.” I turned to Hing. “You don’t want me to act for you. So what were you thinking?”

He sat there for a few beats, pursing his lips. “I want your story about the crash, your battle to escape the plane, your struggles with your grief, and even the orphanage. Of course, I’d like to take a peek at your journal as well, see if we can pull anything from it.”

Oh. My eyes widened. But how—

“I saw it lots of times at your house, V, but I swear I never read it or even touched it.” Wilson grimaced. “You know I have my own grief with my wife. I’d never betray that.”

“Don’t blame Wilson. He let it slip about the journal, and once he did, I convinced him you wouldn’t care if I approached you. And, if you say no, then there’s no harm, no foul. We can forget we even spoke, and I’ll write you a check for ten thousand dollars today for your orphanage. Either way.” He paused. “I am not here to ambush you, and in fact, I had no idea you were coming over. I was here to convince Wilson to let me call you up. He was refusing, of course.”

Wilson grunted. “Like you’d listen.”

I waved him on with my hands. “Fine. Make your spiel to me. You’re not the only Hollywood person who’s ever tried to make a deal with me.”

His eyes gleamed. “But you’ve never talked to anyone as big as me.”

What was up with the level of male cockiness in this town?

“First off, I want to make this film about hope and music—I know that’s important to you. I want to focus on how you grew up in this idyllic setting—Park Avenue apartments and a beach house at the Hamptons—but you lost something vital when your parents were killed …” and so he talked, and I listened.

He promised me millions.

“I don’t need your millions, Hing. I have my own.”

He pondered me. “But what if I told you that I would make you a permanent fixture on my set. You’d be able to see it in production. We could talk about your concerns.”

I smiled coolly. “Hypothetically,
if
I sold it to you, I’d want more control.”

He smirked and took a swig from a drink Wilson had poured him. “You’re tougher than you look, V. First, I’d have to read your story to even know that if it had what I wanted.”

“Don’t get coy now, Hing.”

He sucked on his cigar.

I shifted around in my seat, getting comfortable. I took my time as I eyed him, sipping on a glass of water. I set it down. “Do you know how terrifying it was to see people sucked out of a plane? And for some reason people want details.” I got light-headed talking about it, but it wasn’t as bad as in the past. I had to do this. Face my fears. A sense of calm came over me. “Did you know that nightmares have haunted me for two years, and it wasn’t until recently that I pieced together that my father actually saved me? Now, I can recall him fighting to get me on that seat cushion. He put me there, and then let go. So I could live.”

Hing’s mouth parted.

I continued. “I’m sure you’ve seen the pictures of them hauling me up in the harness to that helicopter, but what you may not know is technically I had no heartbeat nor was I breathing. The medic brought me back with CPR. Wouldn’t you like to know what I saw when I was
dead
?” I said softly.

His hand stilled its tapping against the desk.

“If you want my story, then give me what I want.” I had no idea what I wanted. Not yet.

He nodded. “Fine, I’ll make you an associate producer. You can be there from day one. You will have a vote in wardrobe, talent, location, hell even the damn gripper boy. Does that make you happy?”

I kept my face blank.

“Think on it, V.” He grinned. “Now that we have that out of the way, let’s talk about Sebastian Tate.”

My mouth flew open and my eyes went straight to Wilson.

Could he not keep any of my secrets?

He held his hands up. “I have no idea what he’s talking about. Swear.”

“What?” Hing said. “Does this mean you and him are—a thing? All I meant is that he’s your neighbor and I was wondering if you knew him. I was under the impression he was dating Blair Storm? Am I wrong?”

“It’s not what you think,” I said hurriedly.

Hing’s eyes gleamed. “You’re the Mystery Girl from the
Hollywood Insider
, aren’t you? The one he was caught kissing.”

“No.”

He settled back in his chair. “I don’t believe you. Is he dating Blair Storm or not? If we’re going to work together, we need full disclosure, V.”

“I never said we were working together, Hing.”

He smiled. “Touché.”

I focused on staying cool. This was Sebastian’s movie career here. “I know that you didn’t choose him for your zombie movie.”

“True. When the story broke about him and you, I assumed there was truth to all the rumors that he was irresponsible. Plus, if I went with Blair, I wouldn’t want any lover’s tiffs.” He tapped his ashes. “What do you know about him?”

“He’s worth a million Blair Storms.”

“Go on, I’m listening.”

I sat there, mulling, searching for the right words. “His parents were murdered when he was eight, and even though he could have let that define him, he didn’t. He’s the strongest person I know, and he believes that life is
good
. His grief never broke him like it did me.” I looked at my twitching hands. “He left home at eighteen, forged his own way and has managed his band ever since. He moved here for two reasons: to make a movie with you and get his friend and bandmate Spider off the road for a while. Spider
is
irresponsible and maybe even an alcoholic, but Sebastian is determined to take care of him. Sebastian’s a lot like you. He sees what he wants and he goes and gets it any way he can. Not many twenty-three-year-olds can claim that.”

“I see.”

I shook my head. “No, you don’t.
He does whatever it takes
. And maybe that means dating a starlet who promised him if he did, she’d get the part for him.”

A smile worked his lips. “I’m never surprised by the things people in Hollywood will do to get what they want. I’m just as guilty as the next person. But, I guess you haven’t heard yet since it was just announced by the movie company, but I went in another direction with my movie. Blair Storm did
not
get the movie. The producers wanted younger.”

My body tingled in fear. “Does she know?” The loss would make Blair even crazier.

He nodded. “Yes, and Sebastian was a close contender—excellent screen test—but to be honest, I don’t like rock stars-turned-actors no matter who they date. Never have. They’re unpredictable.”

I stood, anger flaring. “He’s more than a stereotype. He’s the happiest person I know—or he was until I fell in love with him. He made me realize I don’t have to lose music along with everything else. I’m a fighter too, and we found each other. He’s always going to be the guy who rides up on a white horse to save the girl—or a dog. He has the heart of a giver.”

He smiled broadly and adjusted his glasses. “Damn, I like you, V. When you speak, all I can think is what a great line that would make in a movie.”

“If I ever sell my words, it will be to someone who doesn’t jump to conclusions about a person just because they’re a musician.
I’m
a musician, Mr. Hing. And my whole story … it’s still unwritten. As Sebastian once told me, I have a long way to go before I’m done.”

His face softened into an understanding smile. The first genuine one. “I see. You have values—which I also like.” He paused. “Maybe we can learn from each other, V.”

I nodded and left.

But somehow I didn’t think the conversation with Hing was entirely over.

“We were over before we even began.”

—
Sebastian Tate

I PACED AROUND on my patio, binoculars in hand as I watched V get in her Maserati and drive off, seemingly headed to Wilson’s since the exit for the neighborhood was in the opposite direction.

I shoved them away from me when she was out of sight and reached for my glass of bourbon. Fuck.

She’d pushed me away.

Did I blame her?

Hell, I’d walked away.

I’d let her down by letting Blair get this far. Maybe I should have been easier with Blair at the jewelry store. I’d seen how crazy she was getting, but really my head had been too caught up in V and our relationship.

How was I going to save her?

I had to stop these pictures from ever seeing the light of day.

I’d left V’s earlier and driven to Blair’s house and beat on the door. I’d called her and left voicemails, some angry and then toward the end I was bargaining with her, promising her that I’d serve myself up to her on a silver platter if only she’d call off the photos. God, I was willing to do anything to get her to see reason.

I was desperate, willing to compromise with a selfish lunatic.

Because of V.

I was scared of the way I felt about her. Scared that I couldn’t exist in a world without her.

She was everything I wanted.

Everything I needed.

Everything
.

I got weak in the legs and sat. This was not a normal reaction to a girl dumping my ass. No, this was more, and I could finally own up to what had been plain as day to me for days yet I’d refused to say it.

Our souls were one. They always had been and never in a million years would I find another girl like V.
I loved her
.

Down on my knees, wanting to beg her to take me back, I loved her.

I’d been deluding myself, focusing on my lust, but we were so much more.

I wanted to hold her in my arms and watch her sleep. I wanted to run my fingers through her hair when I kissed her. I wanted to rock her when her grief made her weep. I wanted to sleep with her body curled into mine. God. I wanted to have babies with her. I wanted to grow old with her.

Nothing mattered but V.

Not money or power.

Not being the star of the next blockbuster or recording a number one song.

Not even world peace.

Because the only thing that makes a difference in our lives is love. My parents had it. Leo had it. Violet. Love.
Us
.