Page 18 of Someone Exactly Like Me (Wounded Hearts 1)
“Thank you. Oh no. My dad’s retired and my mom’s in the film industry.” She pauses. “But actually, I suppose my mom’s job influenced me a little. She’s worked on a lot of romantic comedy films over the years and those stories have stuck with me.”
Hmm, her mom works in the film industry. Interesting.
“What does she do?”
“She’s a director. Twenty-two years now. She’s worked on some amazing projects. I’m so proud of her and the work she does.” She runs the tip of her tongue along the edge of her glass, licking the crushed graham crackers and chocolate syrup. My eyes are drawn to her mouth with a force I can’t stop. She doesn’t mean it to be sexual, but holy hell does it turn me on.
As she takes a sip of her martini, a thought pops into my head. A really fucking good thought.
“So, I have an idea. And, I think maybe it’s something we can both benefit from.”
“Yeah?” She turns her head to the side a bit and a crinkle forms between her brows. “What in the world would benefit both of us?”
“Okay, hear me out. You could use some help getting your career back on track, right?”
“Yes.”
“My agents in Italy are great, but I’m looking for connections here in America so I can transition my career here.”
“Okay.” She shakes her head with a blank expression.
“I have a massive audience of women who like reading romance books. What if I allow you to write a book where I’m your main character as I was in Don Matteo? Then I can promote you and your book to my audience.”
“Okay. And?” Her expression is tight as she folds her arms across her chest.
“What if you put me in touch with your mom and I work with her to make connections out here for my career? I know there’s no guarantee of any kind. And your only obligation is to connect us.”
She leans back in her stool, arms still crossed and eyes shifting from side to side.
“I’d like to adjust the terms of this deal.” She uncrosses and recrosses her sexy legs, causing a quick spurt of adrenaline through me. She’s quite alluring when her guard is down.
“Okay. How?” She has me intrigued.
“How about my main character isyou, Niccolo Mancini?”
Now I cross my arms over my chest. “Me.”
“You,” she states matter-of-fact. “Not you as someone else, a character, a role. Just you as you. Now, I do write fiction, so there will be elements I create that are fictional, but the hero is you, Niccolo Mancini, in as much as you’ll agree to let me write. You let me interview you and I’ll write a love story around what you share.”
She plays kind of dirty. And while I’m amused by this sassy side of her, I’m not sure I’m willing to let the world see that much of me. I need a cigarette.
I stand up. “Do you mind if I have a cigarette?”
“Yes, I do.” Her bluntness freezes me.
Looking down into her beautiful face, I’m again struck with an urge to kiss her, to taste her lips.
“I need to think about this.”
“I can give you access to the world you want. All you have to do is agree,” she says, metaphorically holding my balls in the palm of her hand.
I trace her delicate features with my eyes then lock my gaze on her eyes. “I’ll be right back,” I say, releasing our gaze and stepping away.
“I’ll see if Candi wants to catch an Uber home.”
My body stiffens and I turn back to face her, spinning her stool to face me. I hang my head above her so she has to look up at me. “I’mtaking you home,” I stress. “I won’t be long. Don’t leave.”
I stalk away from her and out to the terrace. Forgoing my usual ritual, I quickly light my cigarette and consider her adjustment to the deal I suggested. It sounds like she’ll only write what I agree to. So, I can keep private what I want to keep private and only share what I’m willing to share. A few long drags on my cigarette, I blow the smoke out my nostrils and decide to accept her adjustment in return for the chance at my American dream.
Two things have me excited right now, the possibility of making my dreams come true by working in Hollywood and the thought of spending time with Destiny. One things has me nervous, sharing the personal side of my life.
