Where she thought she might see an icy glare or a snarky smirk, Chuck actually sighed. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, and she tried to ignore the flash of his biceps thatpeeked out from his tee shirt’s sleeve. He had a small tattoo on the inside of his right arm that was the perfect size for pressing her lips into, which she had done many,manytimes. “Nothing to take time off from right now, unfortunately.” The note of dismay in his voice stirred something inside her. She knew he’d been struggling to find work—they’d argued about it plenty—but broaching the topic when they weren’t screaming at each other let her see the sincere distress he was trying to hide. It made her want to probe deeper.
She set her glass aside and placed her hands on the table. “Chuck, does this still have to do with whatever happened with Richard Sykes?”
He quickly turned to her, and the look on his face told her the answer was yes.
It was no secret that Chuck Walsh was difficult—perhaps the worst label an actor could earn—but the reason why had never been fully disclosed. The clickbait headlines had planted seeds in the Hollywood rumor mill soil and left Chuck’s reputation decaying without going into any real detail.
Up-and-Comer Chuck Walsh Fired from Star-Studded Blockbuster
A-list Director Richard Sykes Drops Walsh Midshoot
Chuck Walsh Loses the Bet onSafe Gamble: Rising Star Loses Breakout Role in Next Summer’s Hit
When it had all happened a month ago, Olivia only witnessed what she saw in the tabloids plus Chuck in a mopey,drunken stupor for a few days claiming he didn’t want to talk about it.
She’d let it go.
“I’d rather not talk about that,” he said now. The sharp edge to his tone told her not to push, and she knew if she did push, they’d end up fighting and someone would storm out.
Olivia of yesterday might have demanded he tell her, but Olivia of today—the one with a million dollars on the line if she could figure out how to coexist for a month with the man sitting across from her—impressed herself by dropping it.
Instead, she sighed and turned to look at the counter. She and Chuck had sat there the night of their first date. They’d seen a show at Whisky a Go Go and wandered down the street once they left the sweaty little red box. They’d been plenty close to each other during the show, smashed together with the crowd near the stage for some punk band she’d never heard of that Chuck knew, but sitting knee-to-knee at the diner counter after had somehow felt more intimate. At least that was how Olivia remembered it. She also remembered the basket of fries they’d shared, though she ate ninety-five percent of it, and how Chuck had wiped a dribble of ketchup off her lip and then sucked it from his own thumb in a way that had nearly made her combust.
Then, of course, there was the way he’d slipped his hand into hers when they walked back outside, and she’d felt at once like her body was an enormous swarm of butterflies and a bomb that was about to detonate. And how when he’d leaned her up against the cool stone wall of the building and kissed her like no one else had ever kissed her before, she thought every star in the sky had aligned for them.
“Liv?Hellooo?” Chuck said now, and waved his hand at her.
“What?”
“I said dibs on the TV whenever there’s a game on that I want to watch.”
The shimmering, nostalgic fantasy that had been replaying in her mind disappeared in a puff of smoke. Whatever sweet memories had been trying to convince her that Charles Michael Walsh was some kind of romantic hero had almost succeeded. Alas, the man sitting across from her claiming rights to the televised snooze fests that were professional sports was none other than her ex-boyfriend.
She pushed her way out of the booth. “Whatever, Chuck.”
He sipped the rest of his coffee and watched her stand. “Are you going to make me pay for this?” He gestured at their table.
Olivia looped her purse over her head. “Yes. Consider it compensation for landing us on a TV show that I don’t want to be a part of.”
Chuck turned around in the booth as she began to walk away. “A TV show that could make you a millionaire!” he called after her.
“Only if I manage not to kill you!” she called back, and shoved open the diner’s door.
No one raised a head at their dramatic exchange. Given the crowd that hung out around Sunset after dark, they were not even close to being strange.
Olivia passed back into the summer evening and wondered, sincerely, if she had it in her to win this game.
Chapter
5
Having twenty-four hours to gether affairs in order before essentially going off-grid for a month made for an exceptionally busy day.
Olivia woke early and planned a visit to Willow Grove both to pay her debts and to break the news to Grandma Ruby that their next four visits would be by phone only. She also had other errands to run like finally shipping the online purchase returns that had been piling up by her front door for weeks, picking up a prescription, and retrieving her dry cleaning. Of course, it was also the last time she would get to see Mansi for a month, so they’d planned to go to dinner that night.
But the first thing she had to do was pack. She didn’t really know what type of wardrobe being locked in a house for a month required, but she planned on piles of athleisure and a few swimsuits, maybe a dress or two. She dug her big suitcase out of her closet and left it open like a gaping mouth on her bed.
Starting from the bottom up, she packed underwear and socks, sweatpants, leggings, tees, shorts, maxis and sundresses,her favorite bathrobe, and three sets of pajamas. When she pulled open the drawer where she kept her swimwear, the sight of a yellow bikini stopped her efficiency in its tracks.