James cut in. ‘Poor guy’s got a difficult weekend coming up. A few days in Nassau with Cameron Fontaine.’
‘Oh? Exciting.’ Mila smiled, her long brown ponytail swishing as she turned her head. ‘Must be hard, being you.’
‘Tough job, right?’ And for a split second he found himself looking forward to the break, imagining a beach at sunset, the last dying rays of sun shimmering on a mass of red curls... Damn it... He needed to get out more. What the hell was wrong with him? Thirty minutes. That’s all he’d spent with Lola Bennett. Why she kept stomping into his head he didn’t know. But he wished she would stop it. ‘Look, I’ve got to get back to the studio. I’ll see you two later.’
But, already lost in their own tense conversation, he doubted they’d heard him. As he ambled to the door he caught snippets, James sounding a little stilted. ‘Sure, Mila, I’ve got the number right here.’
Mila’s breathy response was, ‘Great. I was just passing, and thought it’d be easier to ask in person than phone. I need a number and a quick chat about her work, character, commitment, really, whether you think she’d be a good fit for Bright Hope. But I can’t stay long, I’ve got to meet someone in an hour.’
‘Oh? Tyler?’ James’s voice was more of a growl at the mention of Mila’s boyfriend. Jake wished he could hear this out but he didn’t do gossip, no matter how tempting. And yet he still couldn’t bring himself to leave just yet. He paused to fasten his bag.
Mila shook her head. ‘No. It’s with the cleaning company manager. We have a couple of issues with their contract.’ There was a pause. ‘Actually, Tyler and I split.’
‘Oh? I’m sorry to hear that.’ Was that interest in James’s voice? No. It couldn’t be. Really?
She gave a bitter laugh. ‘I’m not. Now...the number for that paediatric cardiologist?’
‘Yes. Right here. You don’t seem too cut up about it.’
And as Jake tried to close the door without disturbing them, he heard her voice harden. ‘It wasn’t working, and I’d prefer not to talk about it. I don’t like to get my personal life embroiled in my professional. And I’m certainly not going to discuss it with you.’
‘Yes. No. Of course.’ James sounded wrong-footed. Surprised by her reaction. And so was Jake, a little. Normally she was a warm-hearted woman, professional, capable and very caring. Devoted to her patients. But she did sound a little bitter right now.
And Jake really did need to go. Eavesdropping was definitely not part of his contract. Plus, he was running late for a date with a very demanding leading lady...and her very jolly English assistant.
* * *
Lola sat in the trailer, trying to focus on editing her script, but failing, badly. Usually she welcomed moments like this where she could spend some time on herself and her own work, but she was feeling restless, fidgety. Kept looking towards the door and wishing it would open.
That damned doctor. He’d been the first person to pay attention to her—to Lola Bennett—rather than her employer or her contacts, or her usefulness. Plus he’d been quite amiable in the end—once she’d set him straight on manners.
Really.
He needn’t have been so nice to her. She was growing used to being in the background, which was a far cry from being a big fish in the small sea at Oxford University. But it was nothing more than she’d expected. LA was a big city after all, and everyone wanted a piece of the action.
And, well, she needed to focus on her work and the less she thought about Jake’s body the better.
But it was so...so hot. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she’d find a stroppy neurosurgeon attractive. She’d always imagined she’d get embroiled with the creative, arty type. But her cheeks burned just thinking about him.
Which was stupid.
And, besides, he’d shown no interest in her...in that way. She was just a little bit lonely. And therefore vulnerable.
No. She would never be vulnerable. She was hard-working, focused and intent. Most of the time.
A knock on the door had her heart racing. ‘Come in!’
‘Hey, Lola Bennett.’ Jake stepped into the trailer and gave her a smile. A little uncomfortable, wary maybe, but there it was. ‘I’ve come back to check on Cameron. But I didn’t see her on set and she’s not here?’
‘She’s gone home. They’re working on a different scene now—after you’d gone she did very well and they managed to catch up, but she was tired so she’s gone for an early night. I called the clinic and told them she was okay and not to worry you, but you’d already set off. Don’t you have your cell phone? They said they’d text you.’ What was it about him that made her ramble on so much?
‘I keep it on silent because it keeps ringing and disturbing me.’ He dragged it from his suit jacket pocket and showed her. The strange and yet nice thing about Dr Lewis was that he wasn’t the least bit affected. He was straight up. Honest. Had no pretensions or cocky swagger. And yet he was so damned hot to look at he could have been in any one of her boss’s recent movies, or on the cover of a magazine. He just didn’t seem to realise it. ‘Oh, yes. There is a message.’
‘So you’ve wasted your time. I’m sorry.’ Liar. She was actually a bit pleased that he was here. Well, she would have been had her heart not started a funny little rhythm that felt like she was being kicked in the chest every few minutes. She was pleased, but judging by his frown he wasn’t. ‘I waited here in case you turned up. I didn’t want you to think we’d all abandoned you.’ The added bonus was that she could use the electricity here for free and snack on the leftover food in Cameron’s refrigerator. Plus, the thought of going home to her empty, shabby apartment left her cold.
‘Well, at least someone cares whether my time’s wasted.’ He nodded at the pile of paper on the table. ‘That your script? You never got round to telling me what it’s about. Please don’t tell me it’s another space disaster movie. I think the world has more than enough of them.’
She laughed. ‘How can you say that? The world can never have enough space desert warrior princesses. With AK47s. And very bad dialogue. Make more, I say. Lots of them. With terrible sequels.’
‘No. Not sequels too. Please don’t encourage them.’ The irritation broken, he finally laughed, his eyes shining in the dim light of the trailer lamps. When he relaxed he was pretty damned gorgeous. ‘So what kind of movies do you like, Lola?’
‘Anything with a good story, really. I love characters I can identify with, with guts and emotions. I’m not big on action thrillers and definitely not horrors—unless there’s a real character growth arc... Sorry, am I getting too technical? I’m doing an online course on writing screenplays and learning so much about story development. But the trouble with dissecting movies is that now I can’t see one without analysing it. I’m spoilt for ever.’
‘That sucks.’ He picked up the front sheet of her script. ‘Can I see?’
‘No. Please, no.’ She snatched it back, trying hard not to sound too crazy. Her screenplay was her baby and she wasn’t sure it was good enough yet. ‘I just don’t think it’s ready. My eyes only, and all that.’
‘Sure, I understand.’ At her wary frown he sat down on the sofa opposite. ‘I’m a perfectionist too. I hate doing anything less than stellar.’
‘That’s why you’re so good at your job.’
His eyebrows rose. ‘You wouldn’t know. You’ve hardly seen me at my best.’
‘Well, you were very good with Cameron.’
‘Not at first. You’d have been more impressed if you’d seen me manipulating a probe in her motor cortex...that’s