to me. I might need to take a cold shower, or better yet, a run and a cold shower.
Thanks to the indescribable way Izzy’s lips felt against mine and my uncanny actor’s ability to call the sensation back to mind, I knew I wouldn’t find sleep easily tonight. But I needed to be well-rested tomorrow.
It was a big day. On many levels.
I’d come to a few conclusions on my drive home from Izzy’s tonight.
One: I needed to tell my father about the script.
Two: I needed to tell Izzy the truth about Leo.
Three: I needed to manage the fallout of both before things went any further.
Izzy was pitching the script to her boss tomorrow. And if it made it through the next round, we would be one step closer to getting the greenlight on Beyond Sunset.
That meant I’d no longer be able to put her off from meeting ‘Leo.’ It also meant I’d have to turn my father’s big franchise film offer down. I knew he wouldn’t be happy, but having the validation of Beyond Sunset being chosen to move forward by Polarizing Pictures would give me a leg to stand on.
Plus, until today, I’d forgotten that he and Bob Wentworth were such good friends. If Bob’s studio wanted to produce my script, it would make it much harder for my father to underestimate my talent and potential success.
But thanks to Izzy, I was beginning to realize that his opinion of me wasn’t the end all be all I used to think it was. Having her believe in me meant more. And as much as I loved all the praise and respect she gave the script on Leo’s behalf, I knew it would mean even more if she were truly saying those things to me.
It’s why I was so nervous to tell her the truth. I’d grown used to the confidence her undiluted emails to Leo gave me. I’d never had such an encouraging force in my life and it was something I desperately needed. I hated the idea of losing that once I came clean. But I hated the idea of disappointing Izzy even more.
So, Leo had to go.
He was the only thing standing between me and everything I’d ever wanted.
Isabelle Ellis was the happily ever after I’d been chasing my whole life. And once I got my confession out of the way everything would fall in place. We could be together, work on my film together, and life would be…well, pretty much perfect.
Izzy could stay in LA and live her dream, and I’d get to make my movie and date the girl of my dreams. It was a storybook ending and I’d do anything to make it happen.
I awoke to Shari’s dazed face staring down at me.
Not really how I want to start my day. Thanks, Shari.
“Can I help you with something?” I grumbled trying to rub the sleep from my eyes.
Shari was gawking at my bare chest enough to make me self-conscious. I looked down to make sure nothing scandalous was exposed. Nope. Still in my boxers, but apparently that was eyeful enough for Shari.
I pulled my feather-light comforter up and cleared my throat, pulling her attention from my abs, or whatever had her practically salivating.
“Shari, why are you here?”
“Oh, right. Um, I’m supposed to tell you that you’re not needed on set today.”
“What?” I glanced at the time. I wasn’t due on set for another hour and I was hesitant to believe anything my forgetful assistant said. With my luck she’d screwed up the date and I’d get chewed out by the director again for missing a reshoot. “Are you sure?”
“Yep.”
“Who told you I’m not needed?”
“Scott.”
Hmm…something was up. Scott Mercer was the most efficient director I’d ever worked for. He kept Hermosa Beach on a tight schedule and never ran over on anything. He was a great guy and one of the only reasons I’d been able to tolerate the campy teen drama for this long. If he was canceling a shoot this close to wrapping, something was majorly wrong.
I quickly got out of bed and grabbed my phone, half expecting to see headlines that hell hath frozen over. But what I saw was actually worse. I rubbed my eyes and looked again. But a quick scroll through my social media confirmed my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me.
My heart dropped as I tore my eyes away from my phone to look at Shari, who was watching me like I was some sort of zoo animal. “Did