Hollywood Flirt - Alexa Aston Page 0,12
three of them and opened the pizza box. He’d already gotten a few slices so Dash followed his lead. He bit into one.
“Mmm. This is outstanding.”
“Best pizza in Santa Monica,” Monty said.
Sydney took a single slice and nibbled on it, lost in thought. Dash hoped she’d liked what he’d said. If she didn’t go to the movies, naming his last five pictures would’ve meant zero to her.
She swallowed and dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “What’s your idea of a good director?”
He thought a moment. “One who gives me room to maneuver. Who lets me approach a scene in more than one way. I develop pretty intricate backstories for my characters. I’d love to share that with Monty for this guy in No Regrets. Ideally, I’d want to brainstorm with him and the screenwriter and get their thoughts. I enjoy collaboration.”
Sydney looked to her father. Something passed between them. What, Dash couldn’t say.
“What did you think of the screenplay?” asked Monty.
He relaxed. “It’s one of the best I’ve read. The chance to work with you and Cassie Corrigan would be amazing.”
Sydney’s brows shot up. “Cassie Corrigan wrote it? I haven’t read it yet,” she apologized. “I saw one movie this past year. It was the one she and Breck O’Dell wrote that won Rhett Corrigan his first Oscar.”
“This is one Cassie wrote solo,” Monty said. “Breck is writing and developing a comedy series for his wife, Jolene. She did a Showtime special and now they want her to do a series for them.”
“Interesting. I’d like to meet Cassie, Dad.”
“I can arrange that. After you’ve read the screenplay.”
Sydney stood. “That’s what I’m going to do right now.” She put two more pizza slices on her plate. “If you’ll excuse me. I’m off to read. Where is it?”
“On my desk in the study.”
“I know,” she said. “Two copies. A clean one and one with all your notes. I’ll read the clean script. I don’t want you to influence me or sidetrack me while I read.” She reached for her water bottle. “I’ll see if you’re right for this film, Mr. DeLauria.”
“Please. Call me Dash.”
“That’s an unusual name.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “My dad named me after Dashiell Hammett. He loved reading detective stories. My brother’s named after Hercule Poirot. He goes by Herc.”
As he finished speaking, it surprised Dash that he offered her that kind of information. He never opened up about himself. Or even mentioned Herc. To anyone.
Sydney’s face softened. “My mom named me. She and Dad went to Australia for their honeymoon. She fell in love with Sydney. Especially the opera house. That’s what I’m named for.”
“I hope Australia’s not your middle name,” he teased.
A blush tinged her cheeks. “No. I’m Sydney Harper Revere. Mom’s favorite book was To Kill a Mockingbird.”
Dash smiled. “Harper Lee. That’s my favorite book, too.” He rose and offered his hand again. “Nice meeting you, Sydney Harper Revere.”
She set her water down. This time, she took his hand and gave him a firm handshake in return. “Same here, Dash.”
He held on to her hand just a second too long and could’ve kicked himself. He released it and Sydney left the room.
CHAPTER 4
Sydney retreated to what had been her old room. Someone had redone it. Gone were the wall posters and pictures tucked into the mirror. She checked the closet and found it empty except for a few hangers. She didn’t know if one of the wives or a decorator had made the changes. The furniture remained the same but now the room was in soft shades of blue. She returned downstairs and retrieved her suitcase and briefcase. She could unpack later. Right now, she had more important things to investigate. As she munched on the pizza, she opened her laptop and signed up for a free month of Netflix.
It was funny how she’d grown up with movies being at the center of her family’s life and yet she’d rarely taken the time to watch any since she started law school. Those three years had been packed with reading briefs and cramming everything about the law into her head. She’d belonged to several study groups. By the time she went to classes and prepared outside for the next session, she’d barely slept.
That’s when she’d learned to trust Wake. He was a brilliant student. Methodical in his thinking. He approached each case as a puzzle to untangle, one that he knew if he were patient enough, the knots would come out. Sydney enjoyed time spent