Read False Lines (Blurred Lines Volume 7) for Free Online Page B
Authors: Breena Wilde
you’re available this Friday night. If you have to bring the Hottest Man on the Planet, that’s fine, but you aren’t to let him take you on any sort of surprise getaway or whatever the fuck it is rich and famous people do. Got it?”
“Got it. Friday night. I’m all yours. And don’t worry about Cruze. I—uh, doubt he’ll come. I’m doing some me time.”
“Fuck, Cade, did that asshole break up with you?” She growls. Her voice is suddenly sympathetic. “Because I have no problem kicking his pretty ass.”
“You know you made out with him last night,” I say, changing the subject.
“Did not.” Jessica gasps. “Do not lie to me.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I swear. You grabbed his ass and stuck your tongue down his throat twice.”
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I shake my glass, listening to the ice clink, and then take another piece in my mouth.
“Fuck me sideways. I made out with John fucking Cruze.” Her voice is filled with awe.
“Yes, you did.”
“I’m a fucking rock star.”
“Of course you are.”
“I gotta go. Talk again soon. Kisses.” She hangs up.
I end the call and lean back in my seat, trying to decipher why, if I really do care about Cruze, I’m not the least bit upset he made out with my best friend.
The bungalow on the Universal lot, one of Zane’s production offices, is snapping with tension. The blonde receptionists are chatting nervously. I’m guessing it’s because Nigel is here and he’s barking orders.
“… I mean, if she’s going to run this business, then she should be here,” Nigel says, throwing a pen at Blonde One.
“Hi, Nigel. What seems to be the problem?”
The director turns. His dark beady eyes take in my black bootlets, my bare legs, and my above the knee cream dress. I’ve paired it with a thin black belt. His eyes linger on my chest and he licks his lips. Then he moves up to my face and glares.
I brush my hair off my neck. I blew it out so it’s long and straight.
“Your lead actress is throwing a fit. She doesn’t like the dialogue on a certain scene, and she’s halted filming. I swear I want to fire her bony ass.” He sidles up to me. In my heels I’m taller than he is, and I get the feeling he likes it that way. It makes it easier for him to confront the part of my body he’s most attracted to. One chubby finger reaches out to touch my necklace but I move out of the way before he gets a chance. “Maybe you and I should have some time together. Just the two of us.” His eyes flick to mine momentarily.
I give Blondes One and Two a cursory look, then turn back to Nigel. “She doesn’t like the dialogue? We’d better look it over then.” I smile sweetly. “Have a seat,” I say, indicating the waiting area. “I’ll be right with you.”
His mouth opens and closes like a dying carp and I want to burst into laughter, but I resist. Facing the blondes, I say, “Any messages?”
They are both giving me their best doe-eyed expressions, the ones that say I’m innocent, which I know is total bullshit. They were probably egging Nigel on.
Blonde Two hands me a pink stack of papers and I wonder why we aren’t totally paper free yet. We should be. “From now on,” I say, looking from one blond to the other, “please list my messages in an email three times a day. In the subject line put messages in all caps and, next to that, the date you send it.” I glance at a pink slip of paper, see it’s nothing I need to worry about, and walk over to the recycling bin. I toss it and then turn back. “No more pink slips. It’s a waste of paper.”
“Yes, Ms. Norton,” Blonde One says.
“Good. Now would you get Nigel a—” I look at the director. “Would you like something? A drink?” I can’t help but let my eyes wander to his oversized gut. “A donut?”
“Coffee. Black,” he says.
“Get him some coffee, please,” I tell Blonde Two. She nods and I
“Got it. Friday night. I’m all yours. And don’t worry about Cruze. I—uh, doubt he’ll come. I’m doing some me time.”
“Fuck, Cade, did that asshole break up with you?” She growls. Her voice is suddenly sympathetic. “Because I have no problem kicking his pretty ass.”
“You know you made out with him last night,” I say, changing the subject.
“Did not.” Jessica gasps. “Do not lie to me.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I swear. You grabbed his ass and stuck your tongue down his throat twice.”
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I shake my glass, listening to the ice clink, and then take another piece in my mouth.
“Fuck me sideways. I made out with John fucking Cruze.” Her voice is filled with awe.
“Yes, you did.”
“I’m a fucking rock star.”
“Of course you are.”
“I gotta go. Talk again soon. Kisses.” She hangs up.
I end the call and lean back in my seat, trying to decipher why, if I really do care about Cruze, I’m not the least bit upset he made out with my best friend.
The bungalow on the Universal lot, one of Zane’s production offices, is snapping with tension. The blonde receptionists are chatting nervously. I’m guessing it’s because Nigel is here and he’s barking orders.
“… I mean, if she’s going to run this business, then she should be here,” Nigel says, throwing a pen at Blonde One.
“Hi, Nigel. What seems to be the problem?”
The director turns. His dark beady eyes take in my black bootlets, my bare legs, and my above the knee cream dress. I’ve paired it with a thin black belt. His eyes linger on my chest and he licks his lips. Then he moves up to my face and glares.
I brush my hair off my neck. I blew it out so it’s long and straight.
“Your lead actress is throwing a fit. She doesn’t like the dialogue on a certain scene, and she’s halted filming. I swear I want to fire her bony ass.” He sidles up to me. In my heels I’m taller than he is, and I get the feeling he likes it that way. It makes it easier for him to confront the part of my body he’s most attracted to. One chubby finger reaches out to touch my necklace but I move out of the way before he gets a chance. “Maybe you and I should have some time together. Just the two of us.” His eyes flick to mine momentarily.
I give Blondes One and Two a cursory look, then turn back to Nigel. “She doesn’t like the dialogue? We’d better look it over then.” I smile sweetly. “Have a seat,” I say, indicating the waiting area. “I’ll be right with you.”
His mouth opens and closes like a dying carp and I want to burst into laughter, but I resist. Facing the blondes, I say, “Any messages?”
They are both giving me their best doe-eyed expressions, the ones that say I’m innocent, which I know is total bullshit. They were probably egging Nigel on.
Blonde Two hands me a pink stack of papers and I wonder why we aren’t totally paper free yet. We should be. “From now on,” I say, looking from one blond to the other, “please list my messages in an email three times a day. In the subject line put messages in all caps and, next to that, the date you send it.” I glance at a pink slip of paper, see it’s nothing I need to worry about, and walk over to the recycling bin. I toss it and then turn back. “No more pink slips. It’s a waste of paper.”
“Yes, Ms. Norton,” Blonde One says.
“Good. Now would you get Nigel a—” I look at the director. “Would you like something? A drink?” I can’t help but let my eyes wander to his oversized gut. “A donut?”
“Coffee. Black,” he says.
“Get him some coffee, please,” I tell Blonde Two. She nods and I