Unwritten (A Beachwood Bay Love Story Book 11) Page 2

  I giggle. “Seriously?”

  Kira sighs. “Do I sound like I have time to joke?”

  “No, sorry,” I apologize quickly. Kira is the most competent, organized woman I’ve ever met. If she’s close to the edge, things must be bad. “Anything else you need?” I check.

  “Two more weeks of pre-production,” Kira says grimly, and then hangs up.

  I don’t blame her for stressing. Forever Us, a new indie romance movie, was all set to start filming across the country, until their permits fell through. This last-minute location switch to Beachwood Bay means everyone is working at warp speed trying to get things ready in time. As Kira’s new production assistant, it’s my job to take care of all the little details while she makes sure the big picture doesn’t fall apart.

  Little details like M&Ms for the ingenue lead actress, Lila Moore. I detour quickly to the candy section, but all I can see are the regular kind.

  I call my best friend, Tegan. “I’ve been in Europe too long. Since when did M&Ms start letting you pick the color?”

  “What?”

  I can noise in the background, a saw or drill whining loudly. Tegan and her fiancé are in the middle of a huge construction project, and the place is still a work in progress.

  “Can you hear me?” I try again.

  “Hold on!” Tegan yells, then a moment later, her voice comes again, quieter. “When will this house be done?” she asks mournfully.

  I laugh, still squinting at candy wrappers. “Come on, you’ve got the roof fixed now, that’s something.”

  “But there’s sawdust everywhere. And Ryland’s threatening to shut off the hot water. Again!”

  “And you wondered why I didn’t want to stay with you while I’m in town,” I tease.

  “If I’m lucky, he’ll get distracted working on the movie and forget all about his plans for an addition.” Tegan moves further from the noise. “Everyone in town is so excited,” she adds. “I was in the diner earlier, and it was all anyone could talk about. Hollywood coming right here to Beachwood Bay. They don’t know what they’re in for,” she adds with a wry note.

  “Well, I do.” I check the list again. “I got sent shopping for the riders, the list of stuff all the actors want in their trailer? Anyway, Lila Moore needs M&Ms, but not the green ones. Do you know where I can find them?”

  She laughs. “Sorry, they don’t sell them that way. She wants you to pick them out by hand.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “Nope, Blake says she pulls this stuff all the time. It makes her feel like a big-shot actress, I guess.”

  I groan. “Perfect. There goes my afternoon.” I pull down packages of regular candy.

  “What about Blake’s list?” Tegan asks. “Is my brother turning into a total diva?”

  I laugh. “No, nothing crazy. Water, fruit…” I scan the list and pause. “Since when did he turn into a health nut? He was always the first guy scarfing down pizza when I was around.”

  “Since his agents got him a fancy trainer, and told him he needs to be ab-ready at the drop of a hat.” I can hear the smirk in Tegan’s voice. “You should see him now, he looks like some kind of fitness model, all chiseled and muscly.”

  I’m hit with a vision of Blake shirtless. I feel like I should go sit down.

  “It’ll be fun having him in town,” Tegan continues, oblivious to the fact I’m currently imagining her brother all sweaty and naked…his golden tanned skin glistening… “But it’s already weird, watching people fawn all over him. He’s getting to be, like, actually famous. I’ve been giving him such a hard time.”

  I’m snapped out of my lustful daydreams. “You didn’t tell him I was here, did you?” I ask, panicking.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve kept it quiet. But why don’t you want him to know you’re working on the movie yet?” Tegan sounds bemused. “He could have put in a call and found something better for you to do than run around buying groceries.”

  “It’s fine,” I insist. “I don’t want any special favors. If there’s one thing I learned in Paris, it’s that assistants know everything. It’s the best place to start. Besides,” I add, “this is a breeze compared to working for the Dragon Lady.”

  Tegan laughs. My old boss at the magazine in Paris was a living nightmare. Never mind wearing Prada, this devil never left the house in anything less than Givenchy. “Suit yourself,” she says cheerfully. “Want to come over for dinner? Or, better yet, let’s go out. I’m not sure the electricity will still be on.”

  “Raincheck? I’m a mess,” I sigh, catching my reflection in the freezer door. I lift a chunk of my limp, dried out hair and grimace. There’s no way I can meet Blake again looking like this. “I’ve got a hot date with some bubble bath and a deep-conditioning hair mask.”

  “Sure, talk tomorrow!”

  I drop off the supplies at our temporary production office in town, then head back to my B&B. I’m still buzzing with energy, and there’s another hour of daylight left, so I lace on my running shoes and head down the pathway to the beach. On a winter’s afternoon, it’s almost deserted: just a distant walker out with her dogs. The pale golden sand curves gently around the bay all the way to the lighthouse, and the glittering blue ocean crashes against the shore in a soothing rhythm under the cloudy skies.

  No wonder the movie people were so happy to film here instead; there’s something windswept and lush about this gorgeous view, and for a story about summer love and loss, it can’t be beat. I jog slowly to where the damp sand is easier to run on, then settle into my familiar pace, feeling the welcome stretch in my limbs as I set off along the shoreline. With shooting starting soon, this might be my last chance to run for a while, so I savor it, feeling the ocean breeze whip around me, and letting my mind wander--to the only thing I’ve been thinking about all day.

  Blake.

  He doesn’t know I’m here. After our steamy kiss, he went straight back to LA, and I haven’t heard a word from him since. I decided not to be downcast. New Year’s Eve was only the first part of my plan, and now that I know the chemistry between us is real, it means I just need to convince him that I’m the girl he’s needed all along. So when I heard from Tegan about his new movie, I found myself applying for an assistant job, packing up my things, and moving out here.

  Maybe it’s crazy, but it’s not just about Blake either. After I left Paris, I’d been wondering what to do next, and the chance to get behind the scenes on a real-life film set was too good to resist. I love movies. Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve loved curling up on the couch, escaping into another world. Romance, comedy, old black-and-white movies—it doesn’t matter to me, I adore them all. My parents are diplomats, and we moved around so much growing up that it was hard to feel settled. Movies became my one constant: familiar friends to spend the afternoon with, even if I was watching them from an embassy compound in Turkey, or a temporary rental house in London. I could be in a new city every other month, but the minute the title credits rolled and the movie began, I was home.

  Now, I can’t wait to see how the magic is created. It’s only a small production, but I’m ready to learn everything I can. We’ve got an up-and-coming director and a cast full of hot young talent. Led, of course, by the hottest rising star of all. Blake.

  I stop running, breathing hard, and look around. Somehow, I’ve wound up all the way down the shore, where newer glass and stucco houses are hidden behind the dunes. I can see the familiar back of the house belonging to Tegan and Blake’s brother, Dex; sunset light reflecting off the wall of gleaming windows. I smile. If I look carefully, I can see the place on the deck where the most amazing kiss of my life happened, just a few months ago…

  “Zoey?”

  I spin around with a yelp—and find myself looking straight at Blake. A sweaty, tanned Blake, panting from his run.

  I stare in a daze. Was the universe reading my mind just now?

  “Hey,” Blake recovers. “I thought that was you. I didn’t know you
were in town.”

  I struggle to find words—and drag my eyes away from his damp T-shirt. Even through the fabric, I can make out the definition of his abs. Tegan was right, he is cut.

  “Uh, hey.” I finally manage to re-engage my brain. “Yes! I’m here. In town. For the movie!”

  “You are?” he looks confused.

  “I got a job. Production assistant,” I babble. “Running around all day doing errands, but it should be fun. We’re getting set for shooting, first day is Friday. But then, you already know that.” I trail off, realizing for the first time what a mess I look. My hair is pulled back in a sweaty ponytail, and I’m wearing no makeup, my oldest sweatpants, and a bleach-stained tank top.

  No! I stifle a groan. I’ve had my first-day outfit picked for weeks; I knew exactly how I was going to style my hair. But now my dreams of waltzing on set looking effortlessly elegant and turning Blake’s head are all for nothing.

  There’s a pause, and I can almost see Blake’s brain turning over as he remembers the last time we saw each other—and how I haven’t heard a word from him since.

  He looks awkward. “So, about New Year’s—”

  “Wasn’t it a great party?” I cut him off loudly. The last thing I want is some kind of mumbled apology, or worse, an explanation that our kiss didn’t mean a thing to him. So, I give him a bright smile instead. “Those cocktails were crazy, I can’t remember half the stuff I did.”

  “You don’t?” Blake stops.

  “It’s all a blur.” I wave my hand vaguely. “But I’m sure it was all good. What about you?” I ask innocently. “Did you have fun?”

  Blake’s blue eyes search my face, as if he’s looking for a clue. But I just keep smiling, and so he exhales. “Yeah. Sure. It was great.”

  “Anyway, I better get going,” I say, backing away. The sooner I can get away from him, the better. Maybe he hasn’t even noticed the huge pimple on my cheek yet. “See you around!”

  I turn and run back down the beach, glad I have an excuse to race away from him as fast as my legs will carry me.

  So much for a great second impression! I can’t believe that after all my big plans, I run into him looking like this—and acting like an idiot too.

  “It’s all just a blur?” Way to seem like a mature, sophisticated adult, Zoey, I scold myself. Now he’ll think you’re some drunk party-girl who goes around kissing anything that moves!

  I shake my head, trying to dislodge my embarrassment, but I can’t help feeling like I’m fourteen all over again. Gawky and miserable and lonely, wishing to God I could make people see on the outside the way I felt, deep down. It was one of the worst years of my life—at least, it was before September second: the day burned on my memory, the moment my life finally started to turn around.

  The day that I met Blake.

  2.

  6 years ago…

  It’s the first day back at school after summer, and I’m hiding.

  I sit on the steps at the back of the East Wing. Out on the front quad, everyone’s unloading their baggage, saying goodbye to their parents and happily greeting their friends after the vacation away.

  My bags were shipped ahead; my parents have already left for their latest diplomatic job abroad, and I definitely don’t have any friends.

  I turn up the volume on my iPod and try to focus on the pages of my copy of Pride & Prejudice and not the hollow ache in my chest. School hasn’t even started, and already, I want to go home.

  I begged my parents not to make me come back here, but they didn’t listen. Or maybe, they just didn’t want to. After all, they were the ones who were so hot on the idea of boarding school in the first place. Last year, after spending my whole life trailing them around the world, they finally decided I needed stability and routine. Not with them, of course, but one of the most exclusive schools on the East Coast. They left me here for eighth grade, promising I would have the time of my life, make tons of new friends, and stop hiding away with my books and movies for a change.

  They were wrong.

  Boarding school turned out to be just as lonely as being on my own. But instead of being left in peace, I had to face the bitchy, stuck-up girls that run this place. The cliques, the mind games, and all the hundreds of tiny humiliations that make up daily life at the bottom of the social ladder.

  “Oh my God, I missed you guys so much.”

  Voices come closer, so I scoot back into the doorway, out of sight. Lexi Heathering strolls around the corner, arm in arm with two of her popular friends. Another girl follows behind them, dragging their bags.

  “Mindy, I heard what you did at Kiki’s party, you slut,” she adds, elbowing her friend in the ribs.

  Mindy just smirks. “He’s a freshman at Yale.”

  Lexi laughs. “You have to make him bring friends next time we sneak into the city!”

  The gossip washes over me, snippets of a different life: glamorous and fun, full of wild parties, and boys, and friendship.

  It’s a foreign world to me, but suddenly, I yearn for it so hard it hurts.

  Suddenly, Lexi glances over, and catches me watching them.

  “What are you looking at?” she demands.

  I flush. “Nothing. I…”

  “She’s just spying on us,” Mindy sneers. “Loser.”

  “Whatever.” Lexi dismisses me with a flicker of perfectly sculpted eyebrows and keeps walking.

  I feel the sting of rejection all over again, tight behind my ribcage.

  Nothing’s changed.

  I did everything I could not to be sent back here. I tried explaining to my parents just how terrible it was, but they just thought I was exaggerating.

  “It will build character,” they told me, on the few weekends they were back in the city. “You just have to try harder to make friends.”

  Try.

  I sit in the doorway and sigh. What am I supposed to do: walk up to Lexi in the dining hall one day and invite her to watch Mean Girls with me? She could probably teach those girls a thing or two about being a heartless bitch. But worse than any of the sneers and cutting comments are the ones who don’t even notice me at all. The silent obliviousness, the way everyone’s eyes just slide right past me, as if I’m not even here.

  Invisible.

  A clatter comes from behind me, somebody charging down the old staircase. I turn. “Watch out!” I yelp, but it’s too late to stop them tripping over my outstretched legs.

  The stranger sprawls down face-first on the gravel pathway.

  “I’m so sorry!” I leap up, rushing down to help. “Are you OK? You came rushing down so fast. Shit, should I call someone to help?”

  He rolls over and sits up. “No, I think I’m good. Besides just making a total ass of myself,” he adds with a laugh.

  And I freeze.

  It’s a boy, about eighteen or nineteen. He slowly rises to his feet and brushes gravel off his jeans, then straightens up to look at me. “Blake, pleasure to meet you.”

  I gawp. He’s gorgeous, the kind of gorgeous I’ve only ever seen in teen magazines, certainly not up close, near enough to touch. His blonde hair falls floppy over his eyes, and his blue eyes are smiling and warm as he holds out his hand to shake.

  I reach for it dumbly. “Zoey,” I mutter. “Zoey Barnes.”

  “Nice to meet you, Zoey Zoey Barnes,” Blake grins. “So, you’re one of the poor kids locked up in this place?” He looks around. “Tell me, are they as strict as they sound? The headmistress gave us a whole spiel about curfew and detention and merit points. Sounds like hell to me.”

  “I…” I blink. “Are you the new Phys Ed assistant?”

  I can’t imagine Head Winslow hiring someone this handsome. The other girls would riot.

  Blake groans. “Do I look like a teacher? No, wait, don’t answer that.” He shakes his head, amused. “My sister’s just starting here,” he explains. “We figured it would take better care of her.” He looks closer at me. “Although, maybe not, if your expre
ssion is anything to go by.”

  I look away. Is my misery really so obvious?

  Blake’s smile slips. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” he trails off.

  “No, it’s fine,” I reply quickly. I go back to my spot on the steps and pick up my book. I fix my eyes on the page, but I don’t see a single word, waiting for him to leave.

  Instead, Blake loiters, watching me. “Pride and Prejudice, huh? Great book.”

  “You’ve read it?”

  My voice must be full of disbelief, because he laughs.

  “Sure, I’m not just a pretty face.”

  “I didn’t mean—” I stop, my cheeks hot now with embarrassment.

  “I guess we both put our foot in it.” Blake gives me another easy smile. “Truce?”

  “Umm, sure.” I blink at him, confused. Why is he still talking to me?

  He looks around. “Mind if I hang out here for a minute? We’re unloading my sister’s stuff, and I swear, she brought half her room.”

  He gestures to a spot on the steps. I hesitantly nod, and Blake takes a seat, sprawling comfortably. He pulls a candy bar from his pocket. “Want some?” he offers me a piece.

  “Thanks.” I take it. We sit, silently eating the candy.

  This is the most bizarre moment of my life.

  I sneak a look at him. He’s leaning back, his face turned to the sun. Everything about him is casual and cool, totally confident. I can already tell he’s the kind of guy who walks into a room and makes friends right away; he doesn’t seem self-conscious at all.

  Not like me.

  I wonder for a moment what it would be like to have that kind of self-possession. To do or say anything I wanted and not worry about the whispers and teasing that seem to follow me around, no matter what I do.

  Blake turns to look at me. “So why are you hiding out here and not off with the rest of the girls?”

  “I’m not hiding,” I say quickly, pushing my glasses up my nose.

  He raises an eyebrow.