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  Silver Screen Curves

  Jane Fox

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  Contents

  1. Harris

  2. Jenna

  3. Harris

  Epilogue

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  Also by Jane Fox

  About the Author

  1

  Harris

  I dodged a punch; the guy was younger and just a little quicker than me, but he didn’t have anywhere near my experience. I swung back and pulled my punch just before I made solid contact with his jaw. He was a true professional, though, and went down as if I’d slugged him full-force.

  I always admired stunt guys who gave it their all.

  “Cut!” the director called, and I offered my sparring partner a hand up.

  “Nice fall,” I said.

  “Thanks!” he said with a wide grin. “That means a lot coming from you.”

  I nodded and stepped off set. I hadn’t eaten in two hours, and, with the high-protein diet I stayed on while filming, that meant I was utterly ravenous. I went for the craft services table, hoping that they’d stocked the grilled chicken salad that I liked.

  I was distracted by a commotion to my left.

  “Are you stupid?” said a high-pitched whiny voice that I recognized all too well. I pinched the bridge of my nose and went to investigate who Lewis Trenton was taking his anger out on.

  Trenton was a producer. At least, that was his title. He secured a lot of money for the studio, so they gave him a producer credit, even though he rarely did more than show up, throw his weight around, and abuse staff members.

  Today’s victim was a young PA. I’d noticed her around because it was impossible not to. Black hair pulled back in a ponytail, thick bangs, eyes so blue you’d notice from half a room away, and curves that just wouldn’t quit. She looked like a porcelain doll, usually. Now, her face was beet-red as Lewis hurled abuse at her.

  “Do it right!” he hollered and spiked the paper cup he was holding at her feet. Coffee splashed all over her, drenching her shoes and staining her clothing. I was worried that it had burned her, but she just stood there like a statue.

  “Why are you still here?” Trenton said. “Go!”

  “Now, hold on a second, Lewis,” I said, walking over. “What’s going on here? I can’t imagine that it was bad enough to justify you throwing a drink at someone.”

  “Nobody asked you, Harris,” he sneered. Money makes some people brave. No one else on set would have talked to me like that, but this obnoxious little man thought he was important.

  “Seems like you did, when you made such a fuss,” I said, stepping between Trenton and the girl.

  “I drink green tea. Everyone knows that. It helps with my stress levels,” Lewis said, glowering around me at the girl. “She brought me coffee. Do you know what that level of caffeine would do to me?”

  Personally, I couldn’t imagine how he could be any more keyed up, but I kept that thought to myself. “Did you tell her you wanted a green tea?”

  “Do I have to explain myself to every peon who walks on this set?” Lewis said. “Everyone knows that I drink green tea. Everyone.”

  I turned to the girl behind me, who was clearly trying hard not to shake and failing miserably. “It’s ok, honey,” I said, and her eyes darted to mine. “What did he ask you for?”

  “He said, ‘get me a cup of something hot with plenty of milk and sugar,’” she repeated.

  I turned back to Lewis. “And you can’t see how that could be misunderstood?”

  “Everyone knows,” he said again. He wasn’t willing to give an inch.

  “How about this, Lewis,” I said conversationally, because it seemed ill-advised to give into my temper the way I really wanted to. “How about Miss—?”

  I turned back towards her, my eyebrow raised.

  “Oh! Jenna Horowitz,” she said.

  “Miss Horowitz will do her level best to stay out of your way for the rest of the day, and you’ll find someone more deserving to unleash your wrath on?”

  “Don’t act like this is my fault, Harris,” he said, but he turned and walked away, obviously done with Jenna, at least for the moment.

  I turned to see Jenna staring at me with wide eyes. It’s a look I’m pretty familiar with.

  “Hi, I’m Harris,” I said.

  “I know. I mean, it’s nice to meet you,” she squeaked. She looked poised to turn and run at any second.

  “First movie?” I asked. The PAs tend to lose their nervousness around actors fairly quickly.

  “Is it that obvious?” she said, her cheeks flushing an adorable shade of red.

  “Well, you show all the signs,” I said, grinning at her.

  “I didn’t mean to make Mr. Trenton mad,” she said. “I’d rather he not notice me at all.”

  “Don’t worry about him too much,” I said. “He doesn’t wield nearly as much power around here as he thinks he does.”

  “Oh no?” she said. “Who should I impress, then?”

  “You’re doing a pretty good job on me,” I said. I didn’t think she could get any redder, but apparently I was wrong.

  “My best friend’s not going to believe this,” she murmured.

  “That you got yelled at by a producer? I bet she will.”

  “No, that I actually talked to you. She was so excited that I was working on one of your movies, but I told her I didn’t think I’d really get to meet you. You’re her favorite actor.”

  “But not yours?” I asked teasingly.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, biting her lower lip. And damned if that wasn’t a good look for her.

  “I’m kidding,” I said. “Don’t worry, I’m not my favorite actor either.”

  She laughed, which took her from merely beautiful to utterly stunning. I was momentarily awestruck, which seemed to make her self-conscious. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and looked down at the floor.

  “I should probably go before I get into more trouble,” she said.

  “See you around, Jenna Horowitz,” I said.

  And if I was distracted for the rest of the day, I couldn’t see how it was my fault.

  2

  Jenna

  What could be worse than getting yelled at during my first week on the job? Oh, yeah—getting yelled at in front of Harris Richmond, incredibly handsome actor that I’ve had a crush on for years.

  Incredibly handsome actor who came to my defense when I needed him. As if I wasn’t in love with him before.

  And then I had to mess things up in my own messed-up way, and blush and stammer and make it sound like I wasn’t a fan of his.

  Nothing could be further from the truth. I had Harris Richmond posters all over my bedroom in high school. I mean, I don’t know a girl who didn’t. He’d been acting since he was in his teens, and he’d only gotten more handsome as he’d gotten older. Now, in his mid-40s, he had laugh lines around his eyes that gave him a more dignified air, but he still had a certain boyishness about him that was utterly adorable. And now I could vouch that he was even more handsome in real life than he was in the movies.

  He smelled amazing, too.

  Creepy, Jenna. I mean seriously.

  I never meant to work in movies when I’d moved to L.A. I moved for a boyfriend, who had almost immediately dumped me.

  And suddenly, my income from selling my art prints online
was nowhere near enough. I mean, I’d planned to split expenses with Josh, and suddenly I was on my own. A friend of a friend had hooked me up with a job at the movie studio, and the next thing I knew, I was wearing a headset and getting yelled at.

  The Harris Richmond thing, though? That was an added bonus. Not that he was likely to talk to me again. Probably happy that he got away from my awkwardness. At least I had a clearer mental picture of him. For future reference.

  Beyond creepy.

  I heaved a sigh and got back to work. I couldn’t afford to lose this job, and I felt like I’d used up my get-out-of-jail-free card on the first week.

  However, it was like I had a hyper-awareness of where Harris was. I mean, I always did. Anyone would in the presence of someone as magnetic as him. But I’d felt like part of the scenery before, comfortable in the fact that he wouldn’t ever notice me. But that was before he actually talked to me. Not that he was likely to remember it. He’d probably forgotten my name the second he walked away.

  And that was ok, right? He and I ran in two different worlds, and even if we didn’t, I’m definitely not the kind of girl that Harris Richmond would be attracted to. By the end of the day, I mostly had myself convinced that the best thing that could happen would be if Harris didn’t acknowledge me ever again. It would be safer.

  I grabbed my bag at the end of the day. Shooting had run over, and I hadn’t eaten since before I came in, so I was ravenous. If I thought I was going to get out of there without more drama, though, I was sorely mistaken.

  Someone grabbed my arm and pulled. I almost lost my balance, but I regained it before I tumbled to the ground and further humiliated myself. Lewis Trenton was standing there, glaring at me.

  “You made me look like an asshole earlier,” he said.

  “You didn’t need much help,” I responded, then slapped my hand over my mouth. My internal monologue didn’t spill out very often, but when it did the timing couldn’t be worse.

  Mr. Trenton’s face got so red I thought he was going to pop a blood vessel. “Don’t bother reporting for work tomorrow,” he said. “You no longer have a job here. And trust me when I tell you that no other studio will hire you either.”

  I felt my eyes fill with tears, but there was no way I would give him the satisfaction of making me cry. He wasn’t anywhere near done with me, though.

  “You may as well move back to whatever hick town it is that you’re from,” he said. “I see girls like you all the time. Hell, I see girls who are actually hot not make it in L.A. I can’t imagine what you thought would happen when you moved out here. Were you hoping for your big break? It’s not going to happen unless you get cast as the ‘before’ in a weight loss ad.”

  That asshole.

  And then Harris was there, stepping in between the two of us. I don’t know when he’d arrived, but it was clear that he’d heard what Trenton just said.

  “Apologize to the lady,” he growled.

  “I don’t see a lady here,” Trenton spat. “I just see a chubby piece of cornpone trash who needs to go back to shoveling shit on the farm.”

  Harris started forward, but I put my hand on his arm, bold in my anger. I stepped around him so I was face-to-face to Trenton.

  “It’s easy to be tough when you have someone like Richmond at your back, isn’t it?” he jeered.

  I couldn’t control myself any longer. I punched him.

  “I’d rather shovel shit than work for it,” I said. “I quit.”

  “You bitch!” Trenton screamed, his hand covering his jaw where I’d hit him. “I’ll sue you for everything you have. Someone call the cops!”

  I glanced around and realized that every eye on set was firmly upon us. No one appeared to be calling the cops or rushing to Lewis Trenton’s defense.

  “Lewis, you just got put in your place. I’d suggest you stay there,” Harris said, a look of disgust on his face. “Miss Horowitz has one hell of a right hook, and she looks like she could probably keep going for a couple more rounds.”

  That couldn’t be further from the truth. My hand ached, and I felt like I was about to burst into tears, but I still managed to fix Trenton with my fiercest glare.

  “C’mon, Jenna,” Harris said, offering me his arm. “I’m struck with the overwhelming need to buy you a drink.”

  I took his arm gratefully. It felt like a lifeline. I could still feel the entire studio’s eyes on me, so I forced myself to focus on how solid Harris’s arm felt against my hand.

  Back up. You are holding Harris Richmond’s arm and he’s taking you for a drink.

  I suddenly felt light-headed with the surrealness of the situation. I swayed just a little, and Harris quickly moved his hand to the small of my back.

  “It’s ok, sweetheart,” he whispered in my ear. “Let’s just get you out of here, ok?”

  I nodded, grateful for both his physical and his emotional support. He wrapped his arm tightly around my waist and did an admirable job of holding me up as I tried not to stumble.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked in that same soft, intense voice.

  I nodded. To be honest, I would have agreed if he’d asked me if I wanted a duffel bag full of scorpions, so it was lucky for my blood sugar level that he didn’t.

  “Italian? Indian? Steak?” he asked. “Something else? Anything you want.”

  “Steak,” I seized upon at random.

  Harris glanced down at me and grinned. “Girl after my own heart,” he said. “I know just the place.”

  He directed me to a studio car and gave the driver directions.

  “Buckle up,” he instructed me. “Cliff’s a damned good driver, but this is L.A.”

  I pulled the belt across my shoulder and lap, a bit sorry that it meant he didn’t have me pulled quite so close. As if he sensed what I was thinking, he took my hand, his thumb gently rubbing over my knuckles.

  “How are you doing, darlin’?” he asked, shining the full force of his personality directly at me.

  I was momentarily star-struck and stared at him like an idiot. My entire mouth felt dry, and I unconsciously licked my lips before responded. I noticed his eyes flick to my mouth, but I didn’t think much of it.

  “I’m ok,” I said in a voice that came out way too much like a croak. “Guess tomorrow I start job-hunting.”

  Harris chuckled. “I wouldn’t worry too much about that. Lewis Trenton thinks he has the power to get you black-listed, but he’s got a million enemies in this town who would just love to give a job to the woman who slugged that asshole in the face.”

  I laughed a bit, remembering the fear on Trenton’s face when I punched him.

  “Can you honestly tell me you’re sorry you did it?” Harris asked.

  I was shaking my head before I even realized it. “No,” I said. “He deserved it.”

  “He did!” Harris said with a grin. “So let’s forget about Trenton. We’re headed to my favorite steak house and we’re going to have a fantastic meal to celebrate what a badass you are.”

  “Ok,” I said, smiling back.

  And just like that, I was headed to dinner with a movie star.

  As we got closer, Harris’s demeanor changed. He went from looking relaxed to somewhat agitated.

  “Can you take us around back, Cliff?” he asked.

  He saw me looking at him with concern. “Paparazzi all over the place out front,” he said. “Probably got tipped off by someone in the studio.”

  “That really happens?” I asked, astonished.

  “Far too often,” he said. “I can handle the vultures, but you shouldn’t have to. Especially after everything you’ve been through. So we’ll go in the back entrance. I’ll probably have to leave out the front, just to get them to leave, but I don’t want you to deal with them.”

  I nodded. What he was saying made sense, and on top of that, I knew that he didn’t want to be photographed with a nobody like me. I would be difficult to explain.

  Cliff pulled up out back, and I was
relieved to see that none of the photographers were waiting. Harris jumped out of the car and then offered me his hand. I had a moment of surrealness where I realized that Harris Richmond, one of the biggest movie stars in the world, was waiting to help me out of the car. I gave him my hand. His was warm and comforting, and I had the fleeting thought that I never wanted to let it go.

  Harris seemed to feel the same, because he held my hand tightly as he led me into the back of the restaurant. I expected that there would be a hallway leading to the dining room; instead, we entered directly into the bustle of the kitchen.

  “Harris!” a large, affable-looking man said. “Dodging the press again, are you?”

  “John!” Harris said, returning both the man’s enthusiasm and his handshake. “It’s been too long.” He turned to me. “John Chester, this is Jenna Horowitz. She’s a PA on my movie. Well, she was a PA. She just quit.”

  John shook my hand heartily and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me, Harris. She quit because you proposed to her and you’re going to take her away from all the sordidness of L.A.”

  I felt my cheeks go hot and knew that I was blushing like crazy.

  “Well, not yet, but it’s not out of the question,” Harris said, smiling at me. I knew he was joking, but my stomach still flip-flopped at the thought. “She actually stood up to a certain producer we all know and love.”

  “Please tell me you’re talking about Trenton,” John said. “Please. It will make my night.”

  “Punched him right in the jaw,” Harris said, sounding almost gleeful.

  “Oh, my dearest girl!” John said. “You will forever have a friend in me! I’ve wanted to slug that jerk ever since I first met him!”

  I laughed, enjoying John’s dramatic delivery.

  “Do you want a private table?” John asked Harris.