Indiscreet by Nicole French

16

Idrove away from Newman Lake and into a new life. A completely new world.

A private plane with butter-soft leather seats.

A luxury SUV at a private airfield near Malibu.

And Will. It seemed like the closer we came to the low, concrete skyline of Los Angeles, the more he closed down again. He hadn’t spoken much on the flight, consumed with reviewing lines for the scene he was supposed to be filming that evening. The director had apparently scrambled the schedule to keep up their pace around his absence, but it meant that Will had a new call time later that night.

“It’s all on the soundstage,” he said when I asked if the time of day mattered. “It might mean paying the crew some overtime, but I doubt the studio cares about that more than going even further past the original schedule.”

I nodded. I didn’t mind the idea of having a bit of time to myself anyway. I’d been quiet through the fight too, content to watch the clouds for two hours, listen to music, and put the morning’s events aside. If I squeezed my eyes hard enough, I wouldn’t see my mother’s face contorted with hurt. If I turned the music loud enough, I wouldn’t hear her voice scratched with anger. Twenty-six years as Ellie Sharp’s daughter had made me an expert in the art of denial. And I had one more problem to solve anyway: what the hell I was going to do with myself once we were in LA?

“I’ll drop you at the hotel first,” Will said as we sped along the 101. We zoomed past Studio City (so said the signs) and eventually got off at an exit in what he said were the Hollywood Hills.

I was too entranced with the new scenery to reply. Though I had spent a bit of time touring up and down the East Coast, I had never been to Los Angeles, or even California.

“Look,” Will said, pointing up the hill from Mulholland Drive.

“Holy shit!” I crowed when the Hollywood sign came briefly into view. The pair of security guys in the front seats chuckled.

I turned to Will. “Aren’t you glad to be back here? Even a little? LA is pretty iconic.”

The sun shone through the window, lighting up Will’s face maybe more than he would have wanted. He leaned away, despite the fact that the tinted windows obscured him completely to the few people on the street.

“I…” He rubbed his face. “I like the work all right. I always did, even when I was a kid. I don’t think Dad would have let Mom drag me around to all those auditions, put me up for shows if I didn’t. It was fun, you know, pretending to be other people. Kind of like playing make-believe when I was little.”

I smiled. “Well, I’m glad of that, at least. You’re so talented.”

Will looked at me with pinked cheeks. “Please tell me you haven’t watched any of my films.”

I grinned wider and nuzzled into his shoulder. “Only every single one. Twice. I probably watched The End Zone about five times, actually. You’re a great leading man, especially when you’re wearing really tight pants that show off your—”

Will slapped a hand over my mouth and pulled me under his arm, then proceeded to tickle me mercilessly. His bodyguards chuckled while I broke down in hopeless giggles.

“Stop!” I shrieked. “It’s not my fault you have dreamy bedroom eyes and abs for days, Mr. Sexiest Man Alive!”

The security team started laughing openly.

“Ain’t that the one where you play the has-been quarterback who chases the weather girl?” one of them asked.

“She was a reporter,” I corrected him when Will released me only to flop his arm over his face. “And he was soooo dreamy. I really liked the part where you swept her into your arms and carried her to the top of the Empire State Building.”

“That’s right, that’s right. I just remember the goatee. You made a chin strap look all right for a white boy,” joked the driver. The other giant next to him guffawed.

“Shut up, Hakeem,” Will called, but they only laughed harder.

“Seriously, though,” I continued. “What was with the kiss at the end? All that lead-up, and then a closed-mouth peck. I know how you kiss, babe. That was like watching two fourth-graders.”

“The truth?” Will asked.

I nodded, and up front, Garrett and Hakeem quieted.

Will shrugged. “She had bad breath. She had eaten a bunch of onions before coming on set.”

My mouth dropped as the men up front erupted all over again.

“Are you serious?” I yelled with a punch to his shoulder. Will was actually red in the face, but grinning, like he was trying to hold back his laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Will said. He slouched back into his seat, but the dimple still apparent in his cheek told me he was already more relaxed than he’d been the entire flight. He gave me a dirty look that made me start giggling all over again. “I should French-kiss my co-star just to get back at you for watching that garbage. All the tongue I can muster up.”

At that, I stopped laughing, and eventually, so did Garrett and Hakeem. An awkward silence descended.

“Hey,” Will said. He sat up and laid a hand on my knee. “Lil, I was joking. Come on, I would never do that.”

“But, you will have to kiss her.”

It wasn’t really a question. Will had already confirmed there would be some kind of love scene with his ex-fiancée, Amelia Craig. And since I’d be watching the film, I’d have to watch that too.

Before he could answer, the SUV pulled to a stop. Hakeem punched a code into a keypad, and in front of us, a large white gate swung open onto a private drive that wound farther up the canyon.

“Lil, you don’t need to worry about that,” Will said. “I promise. I’ll eat the bag of onions before that scene. You can feed them to me yourself.”

I smirked. “You promise?”

Will grinned. “You bet,” he whispered in my ear.

We rode a little longer in awkward silence, until I caught the driver peering at me curiously.

“You guys are Garrett and…” I said, realizing I hadn’t been at all introduced to the people who had shadowed Will to Washington and back.

“Hakeem, ma’am,” said the driver with a tip of his fingers and pleasant, gleaming eyes through the mirror. “You’ll be seeing us around a lot.”

“Garrett and Hakeem are the security the studio is paying for while I’m here,” Will said. “Sorry, I should have introduced you earlier.”

“Yeah, he’s rude like that,” Garrett said with a grin.

“But you were in New York, too, though,” I said. “I recognize both of you.” I frowned. “And there was a third guy.”

“Benny made sure I got to choose my own security as part of my rider,” Will said. “But the studio would only cover two.”

“You make it sound like ’Keem and I can’t handle your business,” Garrett joked. “Because tailing your mopey ass between the studio and your house is so damn hard.” He winked at me. “I hope you’re gonna give us a little more to do, Ms. Sharp.”

Despite Will’s groan, I couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll, um, see what I can do.”

The SUV stopped outside a broad white stucco house.

“Come on, Lily pad,” Will said. “We’re here.”

Garrett and Hakeem brought my things in the front door, then came back out as Will took my hand and helped me out of the back seat.

“We’ll be in the car,” Garrett said knowingly. “But Trish said four o’clock.”

Will scowled at the mention of his mother’s name.

“I thought she wasn’t dealing with this,” I said.

Will shook his head. “She’s not. But my mother manages to get her fingers into everything. I’ll have to call Benny.” He turned to Garrett. “Couple of minutes.”

He guided me into the house with a hand on the small of my back, and I was ready to interrogate him more about that kiss until I saw exactly what was waiting for me inside.

I stopped short as Will shut the door behind us. “Holy shit.”

There was a soft chuckle behind me.

I whirled around. “I thought you said we were going to a hotel.”

Will tossed his keys on a marble-topped console with bright blue legs. He looked around sheepishly. “It is a hotel. Sort of. It’s a short-term rental.”

I looked around, then stopped as I caught the view through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the back of the living room. They looked out onto an impossibly green backyard, full of blooming flowers and weeping vines. “It’s nicer than any rental I’ve ever seen.”

In a second, I was wrapped in his arms again, his chin resting on my shoulder while we looked out at the yard together.

“The studio owns it. They offered it to rent, and I said yes. It’s private, includes security, and gives us a few thousand square feet where you and I can pretend this litter box of a city doesn’t exist.” He turned me around so we were facing each other. “Would you like me to ask for some shitty cell block in West Hollywood, Lily pad?” he asked. “Would you be more comfortable some place where the blinds are shut?”

I was taken back to the day spent looking at apartments in New York. They had all felt like boxes, even the last one on Central Park. All with windows that would have had to be covered. This one looked out onto a beautifully landscaped yard, beyond which I could see the purple-hued sides of the canyon. The house was surrounded on all other sides by acacia, palms, and brilliantly flowering bougainvillea toppling over a well-hidden wall. Anyone who could take pictures through that would have to be a magician.

I wound my hands around Will’s back and tipped up on my toes to kiss him. “It’s great. Thank you.”

He returned the kiss with something much more promising, but right when I was ready to ask for a tour—specifically to the bedroom—Will stepped back.

“I really wish I could give you a tour, but I do have to get to the studio. The director is about to have a meltdown, and I’m pretty sure that Benny is going to fly out here himself next to make sure Max doesn’t sue me for breach of contract.” He rolled his eyes, then gave me another quick kiss before pressing a set of keys in my hands. “There’s a rental car for you to use in the garage, but make yourself at home. I’ll get a break for dinner if you want to come by the set.”

I nodded. “I’d like that. I’d love to see where you’re working.”

Again, there was another eye roll, but this time Will flushed slightly—maybe even with pleasure.

“I’ll have one of the guys pick you up around six.” He stamped another quick kiss on my lips, and with a regretful look, he left.

I turned to the big house that was suddenly at my disposal. For a moment, I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t even sure I could move for fear of screwing something up.

But then I saw the first sign of Will: a worn flannel shirt hanging over the back of a stool in the kitchen. Like a bloodhound drawn to a scent, I beelined for it, picked it up, and buried my nose in the soft fabric. I’d seen Will for less than twenty-four hours, and half that time had been spent plotting an ill-fated intervention for my mother.

The wounds of that failure ached, and I missed Will all over again. The quiet of the last several hours had been necessary, but soon I would be ready to talk. I’d want to process everything that was happening to us. I’d want to figure out where this life was going. Who this man I was with really was.

Soon, I reminded myself. He’ll be back soon.

And until then, I needed to bide my time and try to be a little more patient.

I walked through the house, exploring the place that Will had been calling home for the last few weeks. House seemed like such an ordinary word; this place was incredible. Much like Will’s house at the lake, the living area, dining room, and kitchen all flowed together in one seamless space, spreading outside through retractable walls that opened directly onto a lagoon-like patio. Outside, I found a pool, Jacuzzi, an outdoor kitchen, and alfresco dining area. As I wandered around the house, I quickly realized that the backyard was actually the focus of the entire property, as all of the bedrooms opened onto it with their own retractable walls.

The space, the privacy—I understood why Will needed that part of it. But the rest of the house was so unlike him. It was mostly stark and white, decorated with sudden bright colors, like the midcentury chartreuse couch or the magenta dining table, alongside sleek modern touches like the Lucite chairs or bright brass platform beds. Beautiful, yes. Accessible, no. The Will I knew liked comfort over everything else, and I was afraid to touch most of the things here.

It was in the final bedroom, though, that I finally discovered other signs that Will actually lived in this house—enough that I actually relaxed a bit. There was a computer and a bunch of papers cluttering the desk on one side, a walk-in closet that was empty except for a suitcase that was clearly being lived out of, and a shirt and a pair of pants—previously worn—that had been slung over the bed.

Without thinking, I slipped off my shoes and took a running jump into the bed, scooping up his clothes and squeezing them to my chest as I buried my face in his pillow. I inhaled—there it was, that clean, familiar scent of him. Water. Greenery. Man. Will.

I closed my eyes and continued breathing it in. Though it made me long for the real thing, the scent of him also provided a certain comfort. Outside, the trickle of the pool fountain almost made me believe I was back home, asleep in Will’s bed or in the shack while the water lapped on the banks outside my window. And eventually, with that sweet refrain in my ears and Will’s clothes in my arms, I drifted off to sleep.