Hard Lines

2. Violet

CHAPTER 2

VIOLET

A camera flashed in the background as Lucas opened the door of the town car for me. Legs together, Violet. I’d grown up as a tomboy, always in pants, and the first day on set, I’d made the mistake of climbing out of the car in my typical fashion.

#VioletWearsViolet had trended on Twitter before filming even began.

But today, I managed not to show off my panties despite wearing a floaty skirt. The outfit was part of OTT—Trent liked his girlfriends feminine, or at least, the two I’d seen him with had been wearing fancy dresses and perfect make-up.

“Thanks.”

I flashed Lucas a smile, and he walked to his own side of the car. He’d held the door for me on every trip because the driver rarely seemed to bother, but I wasn’t sure whether Lucas was a true gentleman or just wanted to make a good impression for the cameras that constantly followed us. I struggled to figure him out. I’d told Lauren he was a good guy, and I was pretty sure that was true, but he mostly kept to himself in the house. Kane hogged the gym, and the kitchen, and the sunlounger on the far side of the pool that caught the last few rays before dusk. If Mikki wasn’t hovering around him like one of those pesky flies you always want to swat, she was sprawled on the couch watching a dating show with the volume turned right up. On my second day in the house, I’d asked if she might consider turning it down a notch, and she complied until Kane left the room. Then she’d fixed her eyes on me as she raised the volume to ear-splitting, one brow quirked, daring me to complain.

My response? I’d retreated upstairs. Confrontation made me break out in hives.

Lucas spent most of his free time locked in his room too, which meant we’d barely spoken without a film crew listening in. Who was he, really? I’d watched a few of his movies—okay, every single one of his movies—but all that exercise taught me was that he liked to split his time between risky indies and mainstream projects as he clawed his way up the ladder from obscurity to C-list to B-list. In his latest role, he’d played the Blue Avenger, a comic-book hero intent on cleaning up the world’s oceans. I’d googled Lucas too, but until he signed up for Hidden Intent, he’d kept a remarkably low profile in terms of his private life.

“You okay?” he asked after he’d slid into the car. “I heard about what David said, and he was way out of line.”

A groan escaped my lips before I could stop it. “Is there anyone who doesn’t know?”

“Nope.” The driver turned to grin at me. “One of the runners put it on our w******p group.”

Lucas leaned forward and raised the privacy screen. “Damn ears everywhere. If I’d realised what I was signing up for…”

Hold on, hold on… Did that mean I wasn’t the only one shocked by this circus?

“They didn’t tell you all the details either?”

“Well, I knew it was David Jackson and Kane Sanders, obviously, and the contract talked about the extras, but I guess I just wasn’t prepared for how invasive it would feel.”

“Oh.”

He shifted in his seat to face me. “Oh? What does that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Which means everything. Can I help in any way?”

“Not unless you can turn the clock back eight months so I can un-sign my contract.”

Tears threatened, but I sniffed them back. If I arrived at the house with smeared mascara, reports of me crying would be on social media within minutes.

“That bad, huh? What happened to the Hollywood dream?”

It all came tumbling out. My nerves, my total lack of experience, the way I felt as if I were drowning every time the clapperboard snapped shut. Something about the way Lucas looked at me, those baby blues kind but focused, made me want to spill my secrets. At least he wasn’t a complete stranger, just slightly mysterious.

“So, for me, it’s more like a Hollywood nightmare,” I finished up. “How am I meant to get through this? Everyone knows what they’re doing except me.”

“But the casting director chose you for the part, so you must have stood out. Most girls didn’t even get an audition.”

“Well, I only got one by accident.”

“Huh?”

It was true. I’d kept it quiet, but the only reason my agent received the call was because the casting director’s assistant had gotten me, Violet Miller, confused with Violet Müller, a former Victoria’s Secret model who rescued puppies in her spare time. Cue many apologies and red faces all around. Out of sympathy, they’d let me read for the part, some weird improv involving apples and a pogo stick that called for me to act scared out of my mind. Scared, I could do. Call it a specialty. And it turned out that David wanted a fresh face, someone new. In his words, someone innocent. He’d seen my audition tape, and the rest was history.

Except it turned out that innocent in David’s eyes wasn’t the same as my definition.

“There was a small mix-up in the casting process, and I thought I’d signed up for a nice, tame thriller movie plus a documentary.”

Kane hadn’t even been attached to the movie at that point, and the script had remained a closely guarded secret. I closed my eyes and groaned as I recalled the fateful conversation with Randy Lemieux Jr., my former agent.

“A David Jackson movie?” I’d said. “I’m still not sure…”

His spare chin wobbled as he shook his head in disbelief. “Are you crazy? Hidden Intent is a chance in a million. You could hit the big time with this.”

“But it’s a main part.”

“You already played the lead in Rules of Play.”

True, but Rules of Play had been different. I’d thought of the production team on the micro-budget indie movie as family. None of us had much experience—the director had only graduated from university the year before—and we did our own make-up. I choked back a laugh as I recalled the sandwiches I’d made for the crew’s lunch each day. I bet David Jackson would expect more than PB&J. At the time of the casting for Hidden Intent, Rules of Play hadn’t even been released, and apart from a small paragraph on IMDB, it had still been flying under the radar.

“I’m not sure I can do the role justice,” I’d told Randy. “And David didn’t even want me. He wanted Violet Müller.”

“Well, I’ve checked, and she’s committed to projects for the rest of the year, so he can’t have her. And they’re offering two hundred thousand dollars for Hidden Intent.”

Two hundred? Two hundred thousand dollars?

That changed everything.

The last time I’d been home to Oakwood Falls, it had rained, and I mean rained. A real thunderstorm. When I was a child, I’d loved to stand at my bedroom window and watch the deluge, the trees whipping back and forth in the wind, the flashes of lightning gleaming off rivulets of water rushing along the cinderblock path from the front door. But that day? That day, I’d watched in horror as Mom ran around the house with buckets and a mop.

“The roof’s leaking?” I’d asked stupidly, because of course it was.

“Just now and again.”

“How long has this been happening? Here, give me the mop.”

“A while now, but you shouldn’t worry.”

Shouldn’t worry? How could I not? “I’ll call someone to look at it. Billy Johnson’s father—is he still a builder?”

“He’s already looked at it.” The despair in Mom’s voice made my heart break. “Patched it up as best he could, but it all needs to be replaced, and I can’t run to that.”

“How much would it cost?”

“Eight thousand dollars.” She saw the look of shock on my face. “The buckets work, Violet. It doesn’t normally rain this bad.”

True, but Mom was getting older, and the roof was only going to get worse. Plus some of the boards on the front porch were loose, and the whole place needed painting. I’d offered to move home, to help with what I could, but Mom had shaken her head.

“One of us needs to get out and see the world, Violet, and it’s not gonna be me. I’ll be just fine muddling along here.”

I didn’t have eight thousand dollars. Most weeks, I barely even had eight dollars after I’d paid the rent and utilities. I ate ramen in the fourth week of every month while I counted down the days to my paycheck, and my fifteen-year-old Honda made horrible noises every time I started the engine. Hidden Intent was my best chance, my only chance of fixing Mom’s house up for her retirement.

And secretly, I’d hoped that Trent might be impressed by my new job too.

“Do you think my name would go on the poster?” I asked Randy.

“Sure, sure. You’ll be a star, Vi.”

A star. If Trent saw me on-screen at the movie theatre in Oakwood Falls, then maybe he’d finally start to realise I was girlfriend material?

“And it’s definitely two hundred thousand?” I’d asked Randy, just to check. “You’re positive?”

“I’ve read the contract thoroughly. It’s watertight.”

Oh, he’d certainly read the contract. Including, I found out later, the clause hidden away in the small print that said I’d be happy to take off my clothes at any given moment. And the part where I agreed to share a house with three strangers for three freaking months. Yes, I know I should have read it better myself, but all I’d been able to think about was getting my mom a new roof, and it was simply a standard contract, Randy had assured me. Nothing special. When I found out the truth, it was too late. I’d already signed. Signed the contract that gave him twenty-five percent of my two hundred thousand dollars.

And the lying swine had acted surprised when I fired him.

The only thing he’d been right about was that the contract was indeed watertight. I’d even consulted a lawyer to check. Not Trent, of course. No way. Because what could be worse than confessing my utter stupidity to the guy I had the hots for?

Nothing.

Right now, my only goal was to survive the next ten weeks and then re-evaluate my poor life choices.

Meanwhile, Lucas burst out laughing.

“A tame thriller movie? From David Jackson? The man who convinced Velvet Jones to frolic naked halfway up an actual volcano? Didn’t you realise he wants Hidden Intent to be the next Basic Instinct? But dirtier. And with more blood.”

Oh, heck. I clenched my legs together just at the thought.

“You’re not helping,” I said through gritted teeth. “All I want to do is run back to Oakwood Falls and get a job waiting tables. I mean, the thriller part I’m okay with. It’s the other stuff. I’m… I’m not exactly experienced in that department.”

Lucas gave a low whistle. “Wow. I always thought you seemed surprisingly unenthusiastic. This must be hard for you, especially with the world watching.”

“Every time I put a foot wrong, I read about it on Celebgossip.com.”

Because I was no longer an unknown. Against all the odds, Rules of Play had taken off at the box office, helped by a viral campaign on social media started by the director’s roommate, who happened to be some sort of internet marketing guru. In the five weeks since release, the movie had raked in ninety million dollars, and the media was muttering about awards. I still had to pinch myself. Most of the time, I considered it a good day if I managed to put my pants on the right way around in the morning.

The last month had been surreal. I’d earned five thousand dollars for Rules, the making of which had been financed by the producer’s mother remortgaging her house. A week after filming wrapped, I’d been back behind the bar with Lauren, wiping tables and washing up glasses at the end of the evening like all the other staff. Even after the movie struck gold, I couldn’t afford to quit, and until filming for Hidden Intent started, I’d had to sign autographs on the sly because the boss got annoyed if I wasted time doing anything but pouring drinks or clearing tables.

“I don’t pay you to chat, Violet,” he always said, even though the place had gotten undeniably busier once word of me working there spread.

By the time Rules of Play hit number one at the box office, I’d read the first scene for Hidden Intent, freaked out because it involved me being naked, and suggested to David that since I wasn’t quite such a fresh face anymore, perhaps he might like to recast? But he’d just rubbed his hands together.

“No, no, no. This is perfect. You’re still new to the scene, not typecast, but the publicity you’re getting for that horror movie… We couldn’t buy it. You and Kane are going to smash this.”

So far, the only thing I’d smashed was a coffee mug, which I dropped when Kane’s butt double meandered onto the set starkers. That man had no inhibitions. Not that he needed them—his ass could have been sculpted by Michelangelo himself.

What the hell was I doing here?

Lucas nodded his agreement. “Celebgossip.com reports everything. When I ate a cheese sandwich for lunch yesterday, there was a photo on the front page within minutes, and this morning, a fan couriered me a block of cheddar with a lipstick kiss on it.”

“Ugh. What did you do?”

Lucas grinned, the first time I’d seen him smile for real. Sure, he smiled on set and looked handsome while he did it, but those emotions never reached his eyes. Now, they twinkled the same clear blue as a summer sky.

“Left it in Kane’s trailer with a note. Dinner tonight? I signed it from Mikki.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. But she’ll never eat cheddar. Too many calories.”

I snorted, properly snorted, then clapped a hand over my mouth. There might not have been cameras in the car, but did I really have to make that noise in front of Lucas? Who, it seemed, was sweet as well as hot.

“Could you just pretend you didn’t hear that?”

“It’s good to see you smile for once. Although I can’t blame you for being unhappy back in the house. Mikki isn’t exactly your biggest fan, is she?”

“You’ve noticed? I was beginning to think I was imagining it. I mean, she’s nice to everyone else.”

And what had I ever done to upset her? Nothing that I knew of. When I first walked into the house with Kane and David, she’d given me a sweet smile, verging on sickly, and said we should go out for cocktails. Cocktails. I was more of a beer-and-burgers girl, but I’d nodded enthusiastically, only for her to blank me whenever we were alone. And worse, I’d overheard her sniping about me behind my back on more than one occasion.

Violet took my mascara.

Violet borrowed my blow dryer and broke it.

Violet ate the entire tub of cottage cheese; no wonder she’s so fat.

It was like being back at school.

“We’ve all noticed,” Lucas said. “Well, maybe not Kane because he only notices himself, but everyone else.” He wrapped one arm around my shoulders and gave me a light squeeze. “Nobody believes what she says about you.”

Well, that was something, at least. “I don’t understand why she hates me so much.”

“I heard she wanted your part. All those juicy scenes with Kane that rumour says are coming up.”

“Really? She can have it. I’ll gladly swap.”

Because so far, as the grieving widow of Hidden Intent’s first and possibly only murder victim, Mikki had been allowed to keep her clothes on.

“David won’t go for that.”

Dammit. “Because I’m so good in the love scenes?”

Sarcasm rolled off me, but Lucas only shrugged.

“No, because Mikki’s backbiting has the potential to drive up ratings. How many column inches do you think a catfight between the two of you would get?”

I couldn’t help groaning, and the little choke at the end sounded worryingly like a half-sob. How had I gotten into this mess? All I wanted to do was go back home, properly home to Oakwood Falls, where I could scrape by with a boring job, run around with buckets when it rained, and see Trent every single day. But it wasn’t an option. I forced myself to think of Mom’s house again. Of the new roof, of the swing seat I’d buy for the porch once it was fixed, of watching storms from my bedroom window for many years to come.

Lucas’s arm tightened, and I found myself pressed up against his side. Which was kind of nice, even if he wasn’t Trent. Nice because it meant he cared, and precious few people in this industry did. Most of the folks I’d come across were only out to get what they could for themselves.

“I don’t want any column inches. I just want these three months to end so I never have to see a movie set again.”

And in ten years’ time, I’d be a footnote on Wikipedia, a subpar actress who quit the business after two features, one of which was terrible.

“Isn’t that slightly drastic?” Lucas asked.

“No. No, I don’t think so.”

“Acting gets easier with time. My first couple of movies felt surreal, but at least I started with the smaller parts and worked my way upward. Going from practically zero to this feeding frenzy is something else.”

“Why did you sign up for Hidden Intent? I mean, I understand why Kane and Mikki got involved, but you were landing a steady stream of parts.”

Kane might have been A-list, but his halo had slipped after a drugs scandal last year, and he’d lost the lead in at least one major movie. Hidden Intent would cement his status as a household name, this time for the right reasons. Plus, according to their Wikipedia entries, he’d been in the same fraternity as David and I figured bros stuck together. Mikki was a former reality TV star famous for having a nose job live on the internet, so David’s freak-show mashup was right up her alley.

“Because David’s ideas may be off the wall, but the man knows how to direct. I wanted to see firsthand how he worked and maybe land a lead role off the back of it.”

The car began to slow, and I sagged against Lucas as I recognised the shimmering façade of the beach house, its pale pink stucco walls lit by strategically placed spotlights. When I’d first seen the place, I’d been beyond excited at the prospect of living there for three months, right next to the sea amid tropical gardens with a freaking swimming pool—one that actually had water in it—but now my stomach dropped like a lead weight.

“I wish I didn’t have to go inside,” I whispered.

Lucas held out a hand as, for once, the driver opened the door. “I’ll look after you. I promise. Mikki and Kane can only hurt you if you let them.”

Another sob threatened to escape, but this time from relief because I had an unexpected ally in the house of horrors. Why was Lucas helping me? I had no idea, but I couldn’t afford to turn down the offer. I wiped my sweaty palm on my jeans before reaching out to him, and as our fingers touched, a little of his strength flowed into me.

Ten weeks left. Could I survive them with Lucas’s help?