Extreme Bachelor Page 7

  Subject: Re: Re: Re: YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE!!

  From: Lucy Frederick

  To: Leah Kleinschmidt

  Time: 11:50 pm

  Just stay away from him, because that guy will hurt you again, trust me. I always thought there was something not right about him.

  P.S. David’s mom is really going to drive me NUTS. We don’t want more than 200 people at the wedding. Big, but not huge, right? Well David’s mom sends her list over, and it’s 148 people long!! Like my parents don’t have friends they want to invite? What about me and David? By the way, how do you feel about puce? As a bridesmaid color, I mean.

  Chapter Six

  TRUDY, who had embraced the new Dumpster chic so popular in Hollywood, was waiting for Leah the next morning, dressed in jeans split at the knees, a skirt over the jeans, a camisole, and a poncho, one arm crossed over her middle, the other extended with a smoke dangling precariously between two fingers. She was wearing rhinestone, cat-eye sunglasses today, undoubtedly purchased from Goodwill, her favorite shopping venue, and her lips were pressed together in a little rosebud of displeasure.

  Trudy was a hoot. She complained constantly about her kids, but she was fiercely protective. She was very pretty, and wanted to act, but didn’t believe in acting classes or trying to improve her craft and told Leah she was wasting her time and money on her classes. “Either you got it or you don’t, sugar,” she’d say with a wink. Well, Leah didn’t have it, apparently, and she was continuing with class.

  “Hey,” Leah said as she gathered her backpack and locked the one door on her car that would actually lock.

  “So why did you run out yesterday?” Trudy demanded, dispensing with her typically enthusiastic greeting.

  “I had something I had to do.”

  “Do, as in shopping? Or do, as in stunt hunk number 4? Because Michele and I saw him take off after you when you left.”

  “Oh,” Leah said, uncertain what to say to the evidence presented to her, and shrugged.

  “Shut up,” Trudy cried, tossing her smoke aside and grinding it out with the heel of her very cute sandals. “What is going on with you and that guy? First of all, he’s beautiful, and second, do not hold out on me. I mean, you obviously know him. He’s been here one day. Nobody scores that fast, not even that skank Melinda. Come on, give it up, I’m a single mom with three kids, and this is as close as I get to sex.”

  “Please,” Leah said with a roll of her eyes. “You have a boyfriend. Admittedly, not a great one, but a boyfriend nonetheless—and don’t forget you have complained that he wants it too much and you’re exhausted. I, on the other hand, don’t have sex, and damn sure not with the stunt guy.” Not that the thought didn’t keep crossing her mind, but she wasn’t insane. As far as she was concerned, Michael would never touch her again. Ever. “All I know for certain is that he is indeed the fourth stunt guy,” she added, and ducked her head, started digging through her backpack to hide from Trudy.

  “Ohmigod, I’m so going to kick you or something,” Trudy said in a huff. “Why are you being so damn coy all of a sudden? Don’t give me, ‘he’s the fourth stunt guy,’” she mimicked.

  Leah sighed and glanced up at Trudy’s cat-eye sunglasses. Trudy took them off and looked at her pleadingly. “Okay,” Leah said, relenting. “While it is true that I used to know him, I don’t know him anymore.”

  Trudy squealed with glee and quickly put her arm around Leah’s shoulders. “Do tell, darling, and don’t leave out a single detail!”

  “Don’t get excited. It was years ago.”

  “He’s so cute. Did you date him, or what?”

  “I knew him in New York. I hardly remember anything about him,” Leah said, figuring that was not a total lie, as some of what they had been together had faded from her memory. Some. Not all.

  “Damn,” Trudy said, clearly disappointed, “I was hoping for so much more. Oh well, it’s probably better this way.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Well, when we saw him walk after you yesterday, Michele almost had a cow. She said you shouldn’t waste your time.”

  “She did?”

  “Sweetie, he’s the Extreme Bachelor, remember? The lover? And besides, apparently he and Nicole Redding are still an item—I heard the guy dates anything in a skirt and has a particular fondness for actresses.”

  “Go figure,” Leah muttered.

  “Well, yeah,” Trudy said cheerfully. “I mean, he’s so good-looking. And nice. He told me he loved my shades,” she said, winking at Leah.

  So basically, while Leah had not been able to maintain a meaningful relationship since they broke up, he’d apparently scored with dozens of actresses, including Nicole Redding and God knew who else. Now she really hated him.

  But then again, why should it bother her at all? She and Michael were done and over a long time ago. He was free to sleep with whomever he chose. So what if he was the Extreme Bachelor? What had that to do with Leah Klein? Absolutely nothing. She was here to do a film, not dig up dirt on an old boyfriend.

  Still, it didn’t seem fair he would show up on this film, and she couldn’t get over it. How was she supposed to work while Michael did all the actresses on set?

  “What’s the matter?” Trudy asked, peering closely at Leah. “You look sort of weird.”

  “Me? I’m fine.”

  Trudy peered even closer, her eyes squinting suspiciously. “How long ago did you say you knew him?”

  “A really long time ago,” Leah said, and forced a smile. “I love your shoes,” she said, to divert Trudy’s attention from Michael.

  It worked—Trudy instantly looked down and stuck her foot out. “Thanks. I got these and dance shoes for my son Barton for ten dollars at Goodwill,”

  With a name like Barton, it was little wonder the kid needed dance shoes.

  “You should come with me sometime. They have great stuff. All the women in Brentwood dump their trash there, which, of course, is my treasure,” she said, and turned her ankle so Leah could see the heel. Leah pretended to admire Trudy’s sandals while Trudy catalogued the other cast-off items she’d snared, but her head was in another stratosphere altogether. She was determined to avoid Michael because she knew herself too well—if she paid any attention to him at all, sooner or later she’d wind up keeping track of his many conquests, and honestly, she couldn’t imagine a greater hell on earth. Seriously. Watching him score ranked right up there with forty extra pounds and a fish hook in the eye.

  That morning, she managed to stick to her new resolution and kept her distance from him. She focused on the tuck and roll the guys taught them, a skill Eli assured them they would need during the filming. In fact, Leah was so focused on tuck and roll that Eli pointed her out a couple of times as a great tuck-and-roll artist.

  Maybe that was something she could add to her résumé. Beer and tissue commercials. Tuck-and-roll artist.

  When they broke for lunch, Leah was laughing with Michele and Jamie at how one Starlet could so not tuck or roll, and Michael surprised the hell out of her by walking right into their midst. Unlike her, apparently, he was not the least bit intimidated by their past or their surroundings. He put his hands on his hips and smiled so charmingly at them that Leah thought Jamie might pass out.

  “Good work today,” he said to Jamie. “You have a very good roll.”

  “Thanks,” Jamie chirped, and stepped in front of Michele to get Michael’s attention. Only Jamie’s head barely reached Michele’s chin.

  Nevertheless, Michael smiled down at her and said, “You’re really a natural. Have you done this before?”

  “Me?” Jamie asked, pleased as punch. “Yes . . . I was a gymnast.”

  Michele snorted.

  “It shows,” Michael said with a smile and glanced at Michele. “Hey, I know you—you were the blond assassin in Chechnya.”

  Michele blinked. “Oh,” she said, lighting up. “I’m surprised you noticed me.” />
  “Are you kidding?” Michael asked with a sexy grin. “It’s not every day you see a beautiful assassin. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

  Michele grinned broadly. Leah wanted to kick her.

  “Is it all right if I borrow Leah a moment?” he asked a drooling Jamie and a moon-eyed Michele. “I really need a word with her.”

  Michele’s mouth dropped open and she gaped at Leah. Jamie grinned at Michael, nodding.

  That part about him hadn’t changed, either, apparently— he was still capable of stopping conversation with a smile and a wink.

  “Are you free for lunch?” he asked, looking at Leah, oblivious to Jamie’s drooling and Michele’s unbridled jealousy. “They have a pretty decent commissary here. I thought maybe we could get caught up.”

  “Caught up?” Michele echoed, and Jamie instantly elbowed her. “Ow,” Michele yelped.

  Leah wanted to politely thank him and say no, that she had some errands to run, and then wish him a good day. But what came out of her mouth was, “Ah . . . ahem . . . I’m really busy today. I don’t have time for lunch.”

  Michael cheated by flashing a smile that could melt a polar ice cap. And apparently two other women standing by her, because they were suddenly gazing at him as if he was the Adonis King of Stuntmen. What Leah wouldn’t give to be able to roll up Jamie’s tongue and stick it back in her mouth.

  “Busy doing what?” Michael asked Leah, the look in his eyes indicating that he didn’t believe a word of it.

  “Errands,” she said, nodding affirmatively, and puffed out her cheeks, looked up at the sky for a minute. “Lots and lots of errands.”

  “What if I just ride along?”

  “That wouldn’t be a good idea at all.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why not?” she repeated. Why not!? Because I don’t want to be anywhere near you in a confined area, you stupid, heartbreaking moron! Leah glanced at her sorry excuse for a car. So did Michele, Jamie, and Michael. “Because . . .” Well, obviously, to at least two of the four people standing here, she was the biggest wimp to ever walk the earth. But what exactly she was afraid of, she wasn’t certain.

  Unless it was something really pathetic like falling in love with him again.

  Oh nononononoo, that was definitely not going to happen. It was dumb to even think it. Like she could ever fall in love with him again. Ha! Like she could ever fall in love again. And even if she could, like she could ever get over what he did to her the first time. It was such a sad and stupid notion that—

  “Hello?” Michael said, his smile going wider as he looked at her.

  Michele’s gaze narrowed—she saw right through Leah. And Jamie still had that goofy look on her face as she subtly tried to make her hair look less messed up.

  With a sigh of defeat, Leah pushed her hair behind her ears. “Okay, I guess I’ll . . . get caught up,” she said. “But no more than half an hour,” she added, pointing a finger at Michael. “I really have stuff to do.”

  “A half hour, that’s it,” Michael said, hands up.

  “Bye, Michael,” Jamie said longingly.

  “Bye, Jamie,” he said with a smile.

  Leah started walking toward the commissary, not even bothering to look at Michael. She didn’t have to—he was right beside her. “Thanks,” he said, as they walked out of earshot of the others. “Thanks for hearing me out.”

  “I am not hearing you out,” she said firmly, and stopped so suddenly that he almost tripped over her. She looked up at his gorgeous face and groaned, put her hands to her hips. Then down. Then folded them across her middle and said, “Okay, Michael, the truth is I don’t want to relive anything, or take any excruciating trips down memory lane. As long as we’re clear on that, I’m cool.”

  “Relive,” he repeated thoughtfully.

  “Right. Relive,” she said, making a fanning motion with her hand. “I mean, you know, we tried it once, and it didn’t work out for whatever reason,” she said, making a fast circular motion with one hand, “and it’s just a lot of water under the bridge, and it’s probably just better that we stay friends. Well, not that we’re really friends,” she said, her hand starting to wave, “I mean, since, you know, you dumped me in a pretty spectacular way, and it was sort of a bad scene, and then, of course, we haven’t even seen each other in ages and ages, I don’t think we can pretend we’re anywhere near friends. But yeah, you know . . . civil. Right. Civil. That’s it. That’s the word I’m searching for.”

  For some reason, his smile just went deeper and his eyes crinkled at the corners, and a little shiver shot down Leah’s spine. “You lost me at ‘bad scene,’” he said. “But Leah . . . it’s just lunch. At a commissary, for Chrissakes. It’s not reliving. It’s not tripping down memory lane. It’s not anything but two people catching up with time.”

  “Just civil, right?” she demanded suspiciously.

  He held up his right hand, Boy Scout fashion. “Just civil.”

  “Okay. If you put it that way.” She looked at her watch. Then at her new aqua trail shoes, which, for some reason, made the price of $89.99 pop into her head, a price that she really couldn’t afford. He probably had tons of shoes like this in all different colors. “Okay,” she said quietly, nodding.

  “Great,” he said, “I appreciate it.” And he smiled. That smile ran down Leah’s spine and kicked her square in the butt and took her back what seemed like a lifetime.

  She started walking. Michael was right beside her, his hands in his pockets. “You did good today,” he said as they walked toward the commissary, “I had forgotten how athletic you are.”

  Ridiculous. He was complimenting her on the tuck and roll. He had obviously forgotten that he once told her that when she jogged, she looked like she was bouncing up and down on a pogo stick. “You’re just saying that because I did it right, and half of them can’t.”

  “You’re right,” he said with a laugh. “After yesterday, I was worried about you. That was a pretty spectacular fall.”

  It had been a spectacular fall, and Leah couldn’t help but smile a little. “Pretty flashy, huh?”

  “Very.”

  She smiled a little more.

  “It’s great to see you smile. Have I told you how great you look?” he asked, touching the small of her back.

  He might as well have burned her—it was an old, familiar gesture, one that used to make her feel so safe and wanted. She had a memory of it raining in New York one night, and Michael hailing a cab. When one pulled up, he put his hand on the small of her back, firmly but gently ushering her into the cab so that she wouldn’t get wet, and him getting soaked in the process.

  Now, she moved a little to her right, so that there was some distance between them and looked straight ahead. “I hope they have tuna.”

  I hope they have tuna. Sometimes, Leah wondered what alternate universe she was passing through. God, this was a dumb idea. She was already reliving everything in her mind, and they hadn’t even begun to talk. He seemed to sense her reluctance—he had always had a strange way of being able to read what was going on with her—because he said, “I just wanted the chance to explain a couple of things.”

  “There’s nothing to explain,” she said instantly. “It was a long time ago. Like I said, water under the bridge. We’ve both moved on, and there really isn’t any point in going back to it now, is there?”

  “But there is a point,” he said. “The point is, for better or worse, you don’t know the whole truth about me. You never have.”

  Oh, great, here came the grand confession. I was doing an Austrian woman while I was doing you, or, a real gut-kicker, I was going to leave my wife, but she got pregnant. Right, like she hadn’t thought of those possibilities a million times over. Why were men so dumb? “Really, Michael, I don’t need to know the truth,” she said as they reached the commissary.

  “But I need to tell you.”

  “Okay,” Leah said, sighing. “But I’ve probably surmised mo
re than you think, and I already know the truth, but I really don’t feel the need to know any more,” she said, as Michael got them trays and put one in front of her. She could feel his body at her back. It felt familiar. And so good. And she hated him for it.

  He leaned into her, close enough she could smell his cologne and said, “But you don’t know the truth. You couldn’t possibly know the truth.” They moved in line behind an actor dressed like a street bum, and Michael straightened up. “What are you having?”

  Oh, right, like she could eat now. She chose a tuna sandwich, but had no appetite for it. What did he think she could possibly not know? She’d known where he worked, what he did for a living. What else was there?

  “There’s a table over there,” Michael said, nodding toward the back of the tent. He led the way, as far away from the other soccer moms and actors and everyone else as he could get. He put his tray down and held out a chair for her. “You don’t have to do that,” she said, but put her tray down, taking the seat he offered, sliding past him, her body brushing against his clothes and feeling that odd jolt of awareness.

  He sat across from her, poured some salad dressing on the salad he’d picked up, and forked a mouthful.

  Leah, on the other hand, could only sit there looking at him, gripping her sandwich in two hands. After a moment of watching him eat, she put the sandwich down. “Okay, the suspense is killing me,” she said, trying to make light of it. “Tell me what I don’t know. No, wait,” she said, holding up a hand. “Let me start. What I know is that you were not ready to commit. So I guess the only question is why you didn’t want to commit to me, and I think we both know it was another woman, but hey, whatever. It’s over and done with.”