The Lies Between the Lines E-Book

Ember Casey

• Herausgeber: Ember Casey
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

A fake relationship full of forbidden heat...

Emilia Torres has everything she’s ever wanted. After years of struggling to become an actress, she’s finally caught her big break—a part opposite the hottest star in Hollywood, the gorgeous and charming Luca Fontaine. But her biggest role might be the one she plays off-screen, where she and Luca pretend to be in love. The rules for their relationship are simple: in front of the paparazzi, they play the perfect Hollywood couple. In private, their contract states that all feelings are absolutely forbidden.

Luca Fontaine knows what’s he’s doing when it comes to fake relationships. His relationship with Emilia gives him exactly what he needs: lots of publicity for their movie with none of the complicated emotional stuff.

It’s the perfect publicity stunt—until someone wants more.  Needs more.

Sometimes, the truth is even hotter than the lies…

Leseprobe

Contents

The Lies Between the Lines

Copyright

Books By Ember

Relationship Contract

The Beginning of Our Story

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Revised Relationship Contract

An Excerpt from The Mystery of You

Books by Ember

A Special Thank You

About the Author

The Lies Between the Lines

THE FONTAINES

Book Two

EMBER CASEY

Copyright ©2016 Ember Casey

All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Cover Images licensed through DepositPhotos.com.

Top image: © majdansky

Bottom image: © lunamarina

You can contact Ember at [email protected].

Website: http://embercasey.com.

BOOKS BY EMBER CASEY

THE FONTAINES

The Secret to Seduction

The Sweet Taste of Sin

The Lies Between the Lines

The Mystery of You

The Thrill of Temptation

THE CUNNINGHAM FAMILY

His Wicked Games

Truth or Dare

Sweet Victory

Her Wicked Heart

Take You Away

Lost and Found

Completely (short story)

Their Wicked Wedding

A Cunningham Christmas

Their Wicked Forever

ROYAL HEARTBREAKERS

Royal HeartbreakerRoyal Mistake

Royal Arrangement

Royal Disaster

Royal Escape

THE DEVIL’S SET

Jackson

STANDALONE NOVELS

The Billionaire Escape Plan

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From the Relationship Contract between (Mr.) LUCA FONTAINE and (Ms.) EMILIA TORRES:

Upon entering this contract, both partners [heretofore known as the “couple”] agree to publicly present themselves as a romantic couple for the duration of the period laid out in these terms.

1. Both members of the couple must appear at all premieres, awards ceremonies, celebrations, and major media events honoring or featuring the other member. The physical affection requirements will be as follows: three [3] passionate kisses minimum at each public appearance, except in the case of major premieres or events, at which the minimum will be five [5] passionate kisses per event.

The exception to this rule occurs only in the event that the couple means to inspire rumors of an impending breakup.

2. Both members of the couple are expected to maintain convincing levels of physical affection in both public and private scenarios where there is present some member of the film industry, media, or general public. These scenarios include (but are not limited to): time on location/all filming situations; parties (both public and private); television, magazine, and other publicity opportunities; and all casual public encounters.

3. Neither member of the party shall discuss the true nature of this relationship except with immediate family or trusted intimates. If news or details of the true nature of this relationship should leak to the media, the responsible member of the couple shall owe $30,000 per infraction to the charity of the other member’s choice.

4. Outside intimate relationships are allowed but must be treated with the utmost discretion. If news or details of the true nature of this relationship should leak to the media through the indiscretion of one member of the couple, the responsible member of the couple shall owe $30,000 per infraction to the charity of the other member’s choice.

5. Media interviews are allowed (and at times encouraged), but the subject matter of any such interview must be discussed and decided by the couple before any interview should take place, to ensure that 1) the public image of the couple is properly maintained, and 2) each member of the couple will be able to corroborate the other’s stories.

6. The relationship between the couple is solely a professional one. To maintain this professionalism (and for legal purposes), physical acts of affection are expressly forbidden outside of professional or public obligations.

For the purposes of publicity, the couple will be required to submit to several “events” over the course of their relationship, including but not limited to: public fights; breakups (at least two); cheating rumors; reconciliation rumors; pregnancy rumors; and an extended public engagement. The dates and lengths of each of these events are to be determined together by the members of the couple to correspond with the timeline of their professional film projects and/or other public events.

In the event that one member of the couple willfully violates the terms of this contract or otherwise (with conscious intent) exposes the true nature of this relationship, he/she forfeits all rights and royalties relating to the “couple” and its assets. The other member of the couple will be entitled to seek damages up to two million dollars [$2,000,000.00].

THE BEGINNING OF OUR STORY

Once upon a time, a starlet fell in love with Hollywood’s hottest hunk. They met filming a movie together, and it was love at first sight. He was the golden boy of the film industry, and she was an up-and-coming actress who was finally getting her big break. It was a love story straight out of the movies…

At least that’s what they want you to think. The truth is a lot more complicated.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. This story technically begins over two years ago, when a bright-eyed young actress (that’s me) finds herself at a screen test for what she’s hoping will be her big break—Cataclysm: Earth, the disaster epic and pet project of two of Hollywood’s biggest names, Dante and Luca Fontaine.

I’m sure you can imagine how terrified I am from the moment I walk into that room. I’ve spent the better part of the last three years struggling to get by, going to audition after audition and praying that someone will see something in me. I’ve been told everything imaginable—that I’m too curvy, too skinny, too “ethnic,” too generic. My first manager tried to convince me to change my last name to something “less Mexican,” explaining that since I’m “only” half Puerto Rican (and a much more “commercial” Scotch-Irish on my mom’s side), he could probably get me into a broader range of auditions if I dyed my hair blond and adopted a more “American” last name.

Needless to say, I dumped his ass. And now I’m ready to take over the world.

I wipe my palms on my pants as I walk into the casting office. No reason for the people in this room to know how anxious I am. I have the bit of script they gave me folded up in my pocket, but I won’t need it. I memorized it days ago.

Kyle Jacobs, the casting director, extends his hand to me when I enter.

“Emilia,” he says, his close-trimmed mustache curling up as he smiles. “Thank you for coming in today. Everyone, this is Emilia Torres.”

“Everyone” turns out to be a lot more people than I was expecting to see today. There are seven other people in the room, and I suspect many of them are very important—producers, studio execs, and perhaps even the director himself. None of them introduce themselves, but I recognize at least one person—Dante Fontaine, the film’s screenwriter.

It’s my understanding that screenwriters aren’t usually around for any part of the audition phase, but Dante is a special case. His family basically runs Hollywood. His parents, Charles and Giovanna Fontaine, are industry legends, and now their four grown sons are making their own mark on the world of film—and the tabloids. Dante, the oldest Fontaine son, tends to make less trouble than his brothers, but he’s still a regular fixture in celebrity news media simply for being rich and famous and possessing such dark, brooding good looks.

But Dante isn’t the only Fontaine brother involved with Cataclysm: Earth. He wrote the part of Jax Walton specifically for Luca, his next youngest brother. Luca is arguably the golden boy of Hollywood. He’s at the top of the A-list, a recurring star of the tabloids, and his acting chops are matched only by his inhumanly good looks. He’s the perfect package. The very definition of a true movie star.

And as I stand there waiting for Kyle Jacobs to instruct me to begin, Luca himself walks into the room.

I know he’s there even before I see him. Even though I’ve never met him before, I feel his presence the moment he comes through the door. It’s like the entire atmosphere of the room changes—like I suddenly can’t breathe. I’ve had actor friends tell me that some celebrities just have a magical something about them—a special quality that seems to affect everyone and everything around them. But I’ve never truly experienced it until this moment.

And I’m not prepared.

“Good morning,” Luca says to the room.

I’ve heard his voice a hundred times before, speaking to me through movie screens. But in person, it’s something else.

“Good morning, Luca,” his brother says. “You’re late.”

Luca smiles, his mouth spreading into that trademark grin of his. He’s not even looking at me, and yet my insides go all wobbly.

Why didn’t they warn me he’d be here? Since Luca has already been cast, it’s no surprise that they’d want me to read with him, but I wish they’d told me. It would have given me a chance to prepare. I don’t like surprises, especially when it comes to my work.

Luca takes his time greeting the Important People, and I take a deep breath, remembering one of those silly “mindfulness” exercises my dad likes to force on me. It doesn’t help.

Finally, he turns to me, but I’m still recovering from the shock of his presence. I swear my heart stops for a moment. That’s the effect he has on people. It’s like he’s some sort of golden god come down to earth, and a mere human like me can’t quite handle his heavenly aura.

He’s absolutely beautiful. His hair is wavy and golden blond, a contrast to Dante’s darker coloring. His eyes are a warm, pale brown—like buttery caramel. He’s sporting the ideal California tan on his exquisitely proportioned body.

He’s perfect.

His smile widens as he looks at me. He must know the effect he has on people—especially poor, desperate actresses who are ready to murder to get their big break.

“You must be Emilia,” he says, stepping toward me and holding out his hand.

For a minute, I’m simply shocked that someone of Luca’s importance has bothered to learn the name of an actress who hasn’t even snagged the part yet. But somehow I manage to find the power to reach out and place my hand in his.

I expect him to shake it. Instead, he raises it to his lips.

“Pleasure to meet you,” he says, dipping his head. His lips brush against the back of my knuckles, and his golden hair falls across his forehead as he looks up at me through those warm, bright eyes.

I’m pretty sure I gape at him for a full five seconds. And then I remember where I am and that my entire career hangs on me being able to perform basic speech functions around this man.

“Nice to meet you, too,” I say. “Hopefully we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other soon.”

Something in Luca’s smile looks positively wicked. His fingers tighten slightly on mine.

“Yes,” he says in that honeyed voice of his. “Hopefully we will.”

If I’m not careful, I’m going to jump him right here in the middle of this room. Smiling, I gently pull my hand out of his and pray I still look relatively professional. At the end of the day, that’s the most important thing—remaining professional. I’m here to build a career for myself, and I refuse to let anything stand in my way—even a smile like that. I’ve spent my whole life working toward this moment, and the past three years working here in Hollywood, scraping and scrounging for any bit of work I could get. When all of my buddies from acting class are going out to parties or trying whatever new designer drug is in vogue, I’ve been at home, practicing scenes in the bathroom mirror. All I need is for someone to take a chance on me.

“Let’s start from right after Jax’s line about the explosion,” Kyle Jacobs says.

“Actually,” Luca says, his eyes never leaving mine, “I have a few questions for Emilia first.”

My stomach tightens. I’m trapped by that gaze, lost in the spell ofLuca Fontaine.

Slowly, his eyes pull away from mine, drifting down my body. It’s more of a curious, assessing look than a sexual one, but that doesn’t keep my insides from going all warm.

After what feels like an eternity, his gaze finally rises to mine again.

“What sort of acting experience do you have, Emilia?” he says.

I’m confused. Everyone in this room already has that information. Shouldn’t they have passed it along to him?

But no one else says anything, and Luca is staring at me expectantly, so I say, “I’ve been in four independent films. The most recent one won a number of festival awards last year. I’ve also had a few television roles, including one on the finale of American Crime Lab last season. And I’ve been in six nationally syndicated commercials—”

“Commercials?” Luca says. He shoots a look at the small army of Important People in front of us. “You brought in some nobody from television commercials?”

His abrupt shift in tone—from flirtatious to accusatory—is jarring. My heart stops.

Kyle Jacobs straightens in his seat and rubs his jaw. “She blew it out of the park in her previous auditions, Luca. And we did discuss wanting to bring in someone who’s relatively unknown—”

“There’s relatively unknown, and then there’s completely obscure.” Luca glances back at me with a shrug. “Sorry, love, but we need someone with a little more experience than that. This is a major franchise, and I can’t be expected to act opposite someone who can’t keep up with me.” He takes my hand again, bringing it back to his lips for another kiss. “It truly was a pleasure meeting you. I’m sorry things didn’t work out.”

I silently curse at myself for experiencing even a shiver of response at the touch of his mouth.

Luca drops my hand, turning back to the Important People.

“Call me when it’s time for the next one,” he says. “And please, gentlemen, don’t waste my time again.”

And then, without another glance at me, he strides back toward the door.

For a second, I’m completely speechless. We haven’t even been in the room together for two minutes and he’s completely written me off. Without even bothering to do the scene with me. My dream is slipping through my fingers, and he won’t even give me a chance.

I don’t know what comes over me then. Maybe it’s all the stress surrounding this audition—I hardly slept at all last night—or maybe it’s just years’ worth of desperation finally bubbling up to the surface. Either way, I’m not about to let him take that away from me—not without at least letting me audition.

I run to the door.

“Luca!” I yell after him.

He stops and turns slowly, one eyebrow raised quizzically. “Yes, my dear?”

“This is bullshit.” The words that come out of my mouth shock me. And they appear to shock Luca, too, because his eyes widen.

“Excuse me?” he says.

I know this is a mistake, but I can’t stop myself. “You heard me. This is bullshit. BULL. SHIT. So what if I don’t have that much experience? I guarantee you won’t find anyone better for Isabel. I’ve spent my whole life preparing for this moment. And even if it takes the entire rest of my life, I’m going to make you regret walking out of this audition. I promise you.”

No sooner have the words left my lips than my entire body goes cold. I just yelled at Luca Fontaine. Luca-freaking-Fontaine. The guy whose family practically owns Hollywood. I’m probably going to get blacklisted from the industry forever.

I can’t believe I snapped like that. Sure, I’ve been known to throw a few curse words around, but I rarely yell—if I’m mad at someone, I usually just stew and give them the silent treatment. Now I’ve lost it at the worst possible moment.

All I know is that I have to get out of here—fast. Unfortunately, my purse and car keys are back in the room, which means facing the Important People one more time before I can make my escape.

Don’t show any shame, I tell myself. Don’t let them think they’ve broken you. The only thing I have left is my dignity.

I keep my head up high as I march back into the room. I look right at the Important People as I stride over to the chair where I left my purse—saving a special glare for Dante, since he looks almost amused by this whole situation. Well, fuck him.

I snatch my purse and turn around, ready to make a graceful exit, but to my surprise I find Luca in the doorway, flashing that charming, million-dollar grin right at me.

“Well,” he says to the room, “I think we’ve found our Isabel.”

I freeze in place, stunned. “What?”

“Cancel the other screen tests,” he says to the Important People. “This is her. You already said she was at the top of your list. I don’t even need to see the others.”

I’m surprised to hear that Luca has that much power over the casting decisions for this film—but perhaps I shouldn’t be. The other people in the room are rising from their chairs, and Kyle Jacobs comes over to me, extending his hand.

“It’s not official until everything’s signed,” he says, “but welcome to Cataclysm: Earth, Ms. Torres.”

I blink at his outstretched hand. “What’s going on?”

A bright laugh sounds behind me, and I turn to see Luca looking quite pleased with himself.

“Why don’t you and I have a chat, Emilia?” he says. “Just the two of us?”

He leads me out of the room, and I can’t decide whether the heat in my chest is from anger or embarrassment or something else.

“Emilia,” he begins, “…I may call you Emilia, right?”

“Sure,” I say, trying not to think about how lovely my name sounds in that voice of his.

His smile broadens, and a small flurry of butterflies erupts inside me. Keep it professional, Em.

“Emilia,” he says again, “I trust those people in there when it comes to your acting ability. Which means today was about two things—making sure we’d have on-screen chemistry, and confirming that you could keep up with me. As you know, they specifically wanted an up-and-coming actress for Isabel, but it defeats the purpose if she’s just going to fade into the background next to her more well-known co-stars. It also defeats the purpose if she’s too nervous and inexperienced to speak up for herself. We wanted someone who could hold her own—and I wanted someone who had the energy and vibrancy to match me scene for scene.”

“Oh,” I say, finally understanding.

“You passed my test,” he says. “Quite well, in fact.”

“But that only proved that I can stand up to you,” I point out. “Not any of those other things.”

“The rest of it was apparent even before my little test.” He leans a little closer, trapping me against the wall. “I knew from the moment I walked into the room that you have the necessary presence. Something about you draws the eye, Emilia—but I’m sure you know that already.”

My presence is nothing next to his—surely he has to recognize that.

He goes on, leaning even nearer. “You won’t fade into the background. In fact, I have a feeling you will light up the screen. Trust me, Emilia—after this film launches, everyone in Hollywood will want you.”

The way he says “want” sends a shiver through me. I look away from him, embarrassed again. I’m having a hard time believing that Luca Fontaine, of all people, thinks these things about me.

“You also said we needed chemistry,” I say, trying to shift the subject away from my alleged presence. “How can we know that before we’ve even acted together?”

I risk a glance up at him, and the curl of his lips is positively mischievous.

“Trust me,” he says, reaching up and brushing a stray bit of hair away from my temple. “When you’ve done this as many times as I have, you just know.” One side of his smile creeps a little higher, and the effect is devastatingly handsome. “You can feel it. Frankly, I’m surprised that you don’t feel it, too.” His hand slides from my temple down to my jaw. He hooks a finger beneath my chin, tilting my face up toward his. “I think we’re going to have a lot of fun together, Emilia.”

I can’t speak. My thoughts are all in a jumble.

Luca drops his hand, but his eyes are still bright and wicked as he steps away from me.

Oh, girl, you’re in trouble, I think as he walks back to the room.

And it only takes a month before I learn exactly how naïve and idiotic I truly am.

CHAPTER ONE

PRESENT DAY

Some mornings, it feels like there isn’t enough caffeine in the entire world to turn me into a normal human being. Fortunately, my on-set makeup artist is a miracle worker.

I sip my giant coffee as I survey myself in my trailer’s full-length mirror. The rising sun is just starting to peek through the trailer’s curtains, but I’ve already been here for over two hours, being transformed from just-rolled-out-of-bed Emilia into a badass warrior chick who looks like she’s been through hell and back. You’d think after two years of working in major feature films I’d be used to showing up to work at 4 AM, but it still usually takes a shot of espresso or two before I stop being a zombie. I thought I was exhausted during the production of Cataclysm: Earth, but so far the filming for its sequel, Cataclysm: Aftermath, has been even more grueling. We just wrapped up filming in the Mojave Desert last week, and now the rest of the movie will be shot in a soundstage here in Los Angeles.

You ready for today, Em? I ask myself in the mirror. The answer is a resounding, “No!” but I fight it down. I’m a professional, and I can handle any challenge this job throws at me.

I think.

I grab my robe and pull it on as I walk over to the sofa. My arms and legs are streaked with reddish-brown “apocalypse dust”—as Violet, my makeup artist, likes to call it—and though my body makeup is unlikely to go anywhere, I’d rather not stain the upholstery. I pull the robe snugly around me as I sit down and grab the television remote.

It’s become a morning ritual of mine—watching old sitcom reruns as I wait for them to call me to set. It might still be another hour or so before they’re done setting up all of the lights and everything, and in the meantime I can’t bear to sit around in the silence, thinking about today’s scene. I don’t even really pay attention to the show. I just find the noise soothing.

I take another long, slow sip of my coffee. I didn’t sleep much last night, but that’s nothing new. I’m coming to learn that I just don’t sleep well during the two to three months we’re in production—I’m too wound up. Too focused on my work. The caffeine probably doesn’t help, but it’s also the only thing getting me through the day.

My cell phone buzzes on the table beside me, but I ignore it. I know it’s just my mom calling me again, wanting to talk about Sara’s wedding some more. My older sister and her long-term boyfriend have finally decided to tie the knot, and my mom has been calling me twice a day for the past two weeks wanting to discuss details. Moms—even when they’re university professors like mine—apparently don’t understand phrases like “I’ve been working grueling twenty-hour days,” or even just, “Please, can we save this conversation until my next day off?”

Honestly, though, my hours are just an excuse. As happy as I am for Sara—it’s about damn time those two made it official—I get a knot in my stomach every time my mom calls to talk about the upcoming nuptials. And today, of all days, I don’t think I can handle her not-so-subtle questions about when my wedding is going to happen.

She has no idea that my engagement—like so much of my life these days—is one big, fat lie.

I lean over toward the table, adjusting the silver-framed picture sitting next to a vase of red roses from Luca. The photo is of me and my family at my little brother’s high school graduation. It’s from five years ago, just before I moved to L.A., but it feels like even longer. Javy still had braces then, and Sara hadn’t gone blond yet. Dad was still trying to pull off those weird sideburns, and my mom was about fifty pounds heavier than she is today. Still, we all look so happy. It’s one of my favorite pictures of all of us.

I shift the frame, positioning it so it’s still visible even when I lean back on the couch. My family still lives in Atlanta—except for Sara, who’s currently working on her Ph.D. at NYU. We’re about as far away from each other as we can be in the Continental U.S., but it helps a little to have this photo close.

A knock sounds on my trailer door, startling me out of my thoughts.

“I’ve got your breakfast, Ms. Torres,” comes the familiar voice of Briana, one of the production assistants.

I leap up off the couch and go over to the door. Briana is there with a large paper bag in one hand and a tray of coffees in the other.

“Come on in,” I tell her with a smile, moving aside so she can enter.

Briana steps past me, masterfully juggling the food and drinks without even wobbling on her electric purple heels. Her shoes match the single purple streak across the bangs of her retro platinum bob. She’s got a Forties-style cat eye going on today, and her lipstick is a deep berry red. How she manages to look so cute and put-together at this hour is beyond me. She’s fresh out of film school, and her enthusiasm is insane. I swear she doesn’t even sleep—and yet unlike me, she still has boundless amounts of energy.

“You ready for your big scene today?” she asks cheerfully as she sets everything down on the table and starts sifting through it.

My eyes are on the fresh coffee she brought for me, and I hardly register her question. “Hm?”

“Your big scene. With Luca.” She gives me a wink as she hands over my drink.

Oh, right. I’ve been trying not to think about that—and failing miserably. Today Luca and I are filming our first sex scene together. My first sex scene ever.

“I’m ready,” I tell her with a smile. I can’t tell her the truth—that I’m so nervous I threw up twice last night.

“Speaking of Luca,” she says, reaching into the bag of food, “do you know where he is? Isaac asked me to ask you.”

“He’s late?”

Briana looks at me in surprise, and I realize my mistake right away.

“I… We didn’t spend last night together,” I say, my tongue tripping over itself. “Big scene today and all. We both thought it was better to get some sleep.”

“Oh,” Briana says, smiling again. “I totally understand.” Her eyes slide to the vase of roses on the table. “Are those from him?”

“Yes,” I say, glad she accepted my lame excuse. “He’s so sweet, isn’t he?”

“It must be so nice to work together,” she says, pulling my breakfast out of the bag for me. Today I’ve got an egg white omelet with some raw spinach. “I’ve always wanted to ask you—is it weird kissing him in front of the cameras? You know, since you two are…?”

Engaged? Doin’ it? Deeply and madly in love? She might have finished her question in a dozen different ways, and every single one of them would have been a lie.

But only Luca and I know that. For the past two years, since about a month after I was cast as Isabel in the Cataclysm: Earth franchise, he and I have been involved in what has proved to be the greatest acting challenge of my life so far: convincing the world that we’re in love.

It was Luca’s idea. Nothing sells a film like some good drama between co-stars, and he wanted Cataclysm: Earth to be huge. He had a contract and everything, spelling out what we could and couldn’t do, breaking down exactly when all of our dramatic “relationship events” would take place, laying out exactly what was expected of me. I knew this was my chance to really make it big, so I signed it.

And it worked. Our little show began the moment my signature was dry on the contract, and Luca and I have been in the spotlight ever since—one day making out on the beach, the next breaking up, the next starting baby rumors…and over and over and over again until I was convinced people would be bored with us. Instead, it only made them more obsessed.

And now I have a rock the size of a golf ball to wear on my finger.

My engagement ring is currently locked in my safe here in the trailer—I can’t exactly wear it during filming—but I can still feel the weight of it on my finger.

“Ms. Torres?” Briana prompts. I remember she asked me a question.

“It’s a little weird to kiss him in front of the cameras,” I say, “but you get used to it. It’s our job.”

Actually, kissing isn’t the issue here—Luca and I have done that plenty of times before. The issue is that today he and I are supposed to do a lot more than kiss, and we have no experience there—at least not with each other. In fact, our contract expressly forbids it. Absolutely no sex allowed. Luca was adamant about that part of our legal arrangement—claiming that based on his experience, sex just complicates things—and I know how to take a hint.

Briana smiles warmly at me, and I feel a yawning emptiness in my gut. Some days I’d give anything to tell someone—anyone—the truth. To give up the illusion for an hour. To have one person in my life with whom I can be completely genuine. Part of me thinks that under different circumstances, Briana and I might have been real friends. But I know I couldn’t bear to keep lying to her then, and my contract with Luca has some pretty strict rules about who we can and cannot tell.

My eyes fall again to the photograph on the table. Luca’s family knows the truth about us, but I haven’t had the heart to tell mine. My parents—especially my mom—would never understand. They don’t know how relationships work in this industry, and they definitely wouldn’t get why I willingly entered into such an arrangement. My parents have been madly in love since the first time they laid eyes on each other on their first day of college, and now they’re professors at the same small university. Things work differently here—assuming I want a lasting career in this business.

“Well, I should go give everyone else their breakfast,” Briana says, picking everything up again. “Have fun today.” She gives a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows.

“Fun” is probably the last word I’d use to describe today, but I’ll fake it. Just like I fake everything else in my life.

Don’t get me wrong—I love my job. From the first time I ever attempted acting—in a nativity play at church when I was six—I loved it. It was like the ultimate game of make believe, one where everyone else watching believed it, too. As I got older, I sought out every chance I could to act—I auditioned for every play at school, attended drama camp every summer as a teenager, even appeared in a couple of commercials for local car dealerships. One day I was playing Mercutio in my high school’s production of Romeo and Juliet, and the next I was showing off the features of the latest Honda Civic. Every minute of it was pure fun—every day I got to be a new person, try on a new life. I was determined to make a career of it.

So here I am, living the dream. Which today means rubbing up on the guy I’m fake-engaged to and pretending to have the best orgasm of my life in front of a gazillion cameras.

You know—just your average Tuesday.

I look down at my sad little omelet. I’d give anything to stress-eat some donuts this morning, but Roxie, my nutritionist, has me on a crazy-strict diet right now.

My phone buzzes again. My mom sure is being extra persistent today.

Maybe it’s not your mom, I think, remembering what Briana said about Luca being late. Maybe my “fiancé” is calling to tell me where he is. Luca is many things, but he’s never late. He’s as professional as they come. And he’s put me in a very tricky position, as far as our little relationship act goes.

Of all days for him to be late, he has to pick today. The day when I’m already so flustered and nervous I can hardly think straight.

I grab my phone and shove it beneath my ear. “Hello?”

But though it’s a male voice that greets me, it’s not Luca. It’s Javy, my little brother.

“Em,” he says breathlessly. “Em, you have to help me.”

I thought the knot in my stomach couldn’t get any bigger, but I was wrong. “What’s wrong? What happened?” My mind is already racing—are Mom and Dad all right? Is someone in the hospital? Javy is a twenty-three-year-old dude. He doesn’t call one of his sisters unless there’s an emergency.

“I…I need money, Em,” he says.

“For what? What happened? Are Mom and Dad—”

“They’re fine. But I might not be.” He lets out a long breath. “Please, Em. You have to help me.”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

“I can’t. I just… Em, I need twenty thousand dollars—”

“Twenty thousand dollars? What the hell have you done?”