Filmed: An Alpha Bad Boy Romance (City Series Book 3) (21 page)

“Okay dots, what are these rules?”

I looked away, blushing slightly. “It’s not like that.”

He laughed softly. “I didn’t say it was.”

I looked back. “Fine, the first rule. You can’t disappear again. I can’t get involved with you, even if we’re just making a movie together, if you’re going to flake and disappear on me.”

He nodded. “Fine, that’s reasonable. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Okay, and this one is more important. You have to be sober the whole time, and you have to keep going to meetings. No more drugs.”

He nodded again. “Okay, I agree to your terms.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Good. Then I guess we can do this.”

“My turn now,” he said, getting serious. He moved off from the wall and stood closer to me. I breathed in sharply, aware of his body so close to mine. Memories came flooding back of his fingers against my skin. “When you’re working the program, you’re supposed to follow a bunch of steps, and part of those steps is admitting you were wrong and trying to make amends.”

My breath caught in my chest. “Okay, so what’s up?”

“I was wrong to cut you out of my life. You have no idea how hard that was for me. If I could go back, I would do things differently. I was wrong.”

I nodded, blinking. I had never seen him so serious before.

“And I will make amends. Maybe slowly, if you’ll let me, but I will.”

“Just don’t disappear on me again,” I said softly.

He stopped closer, and for a moment I thought he was going to kiss me. Instead, he wrapped his arms around my body and pulled me tightly against him. I could smell his scent and feel his hard, ripped muscles under his clothes. He hugged me tightly and I returned the embrace after a second, surprised at the contact, but melting into it.

“I’m not going to,” he said in my ear. “I promise.”

I hugged him harder, not wanting to let go, and I felt the exact thing I had thought I was going to be able to avoid begin to lodge itself in my chest. After another few seconds, he pulled away.

“All cool, dots?” he asked, back to his cocky self.

I looked away, controlling the flush of emotions. “Yeah, we’re cool.”

“Good. Get to work now.”

“Yeah, says the model employee.” I gathered myself together and looked at him.

He was grinning ear to ear. “I held this place together and you know it.”

“Sure, whatever Noah,” I said, smiling and turning to walk away.

“You’re drowning here without me,” he called out.

“Keep telling yourself that,” I responded sweetly. He gave me one final grin, then turned and walked up the stairs.

It felt good, strange but shockingly good, to banter with him again, even if things were still broken between us. I was overjoyed that he had already started working his steps. I wasn’t exactly ready for optimism yet, but I was a little hopeful. He had agreed to my rules, and seemed ready to move forward.

I was sure there were surprises coming for me, but I wasn’t afraid of them.

N
oah picked me up in his car and drove us through the Saturday traffic down toward Miss Havisham’s apartment. He wore a stylish button down white linen shirt, a light black jacket, slim jeans, and black sunglasses. I had to admit, he looked a lot better than he did the last time he had showed up at my place. I climbed into his car, and he pulled out into traffic.

“Listen, let me do the talking,” he said after a few minutes of idle chatting.

I looked at him. I liked it when he got down to business. The wind whipping through his hair combined with the early morning sun made him look elegant and gruff at the same time. I couldn’t have explained to anyone in the world what exactly I saw when I looked at him, but it was something that was difficult to ignore.

“Why, don’t trust me?”

He glanced at me. “Maybe.”

I laughed. “I’m not going to ruin this, relax.”

“I know, dots. But just trust me and let me take point.”

I sighed. “Fine, but if she says no, we’re screwed.”

“Don’t talk to me about screwing, I’ll get distracted.”

I smacked his arm lightly, but I felt myself smiling. It was good to be the object of his attention again, even if that attention was both confusing and painful at the same time. I wanted more jokes, and couldn’t help but imagine his strong arms pinning mine above my head as he thrust inside of me. Blushing, I looked away, out the window at the brown buildings flashing by.

Finally, he caught a parking space between two huge trucks, and deftly slipped his small car into the spot. We climbed out and began walking down the block.

“She’s just ahead,” he said.

We stopped in front of a door set into the wall next to a Chinese restaurant, with a small stoop and a white buzzer. The door was painted red and white and a small Native American dream catcher hung from a nail in its upper corner. I gave Noah a look, and he just shrugged. She was totally the kind of woman to have that hanging outside of her apartment. He hit the button, and a second later Miss H invited us up. We climbed a short set of stairs, and walked into her apartment.

Miss Havisham lived in a small one-bedroom apartment in south Philadelphia set above a row of shops. Since her place was above a Chinese restaurant, the smell of cooking meats wafted up through her floor. At first, it was a little weird, but I got used to it pretty fast. In fact, I figured it would be pretty convenient. I’d have gained at least twenty pounds if I lived there. The area around her place was pretty decent, though I could only imagine how long of a commute she had to get to Temple every day. There weren’t any subway stops convenient to her place as far as I knew. It gave me a new found respect for Miss H, knowing how she lived.

She gave Noah and me a hug, and led us into the living room. Her place was decorated in what my mom would have called “shabby scholar chic.” There were paintings on every wall in all different styles with different frames, books and papers stacked on every table, an assortment of statues and houseplants, at least one or two cats hanging around, plenty of color everywhere, and a huge collection of movies on DVD stacked up around her old television. It was simultaneously exactly what I had pictured and completely unlike anything I had ever seen.

In some ways, it reminded me a lot of my dad’s study, at least in how cluttered it was, and we were forced to clear off spaces on the couch in order to sit down. Miss H left us there and went into the kitchen to make some tea. Noah gave me a look, leaned in, and whispered in my ear.

“I wonder if anyone has sat here in years,” he said.

I stifled a laugh. “Probably only cats and books,” I said back.

“I can practically feel the couch protesting.”

“It’s used to a much easier life.”

He laughed quietly. In the kitchen, Miss H banged around, doing who knew what, while Noah and I looked around her place. We had mentioned something vague about wanting to involve her in a film project, but we hadn’t gone into detail, at Noah’s suggestion. He didn’t want to spook her or something, as if she were a wild horse. I wasn’t sure how or why, but he had secured our little meeting at Miss H’s place out of nowhere. He seemed to have a plan, so I decided to go with it.

“Milk or sugar in your tea, dears?” Miss H called from the kitchen.

“None for me, thanks,” I replied.

“Same, I prefer it nice and strong,” Noah said. He gave me a look as if that were some kind of code for sex. I rolled my eyes as I heard the kettle begin to boil.

“Well, here we are,” Miss H said, walking back into the living room with a tray, a teapot, three cups, and some biscuits. She was wearing a colorful shawl draped over a long, flowing skirt. There must have been over a thousand beads stitched into the skirt and the shawl, and they made small clacking noises as she moved. Her greying hair was up in a tight bun, which made her look like a hippie librarian.

As soon as she put it down on top of old newspapers and film criticism books, Noah immediately dove into the biscuits.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” I grumbled at him.

He shrugged and Miss H laughed. “There’s plenty more where that came from,” she said.

“Thanks Miss H, but we’re not here for the biscuits,” he said in between mouthfuls.

“What the idiot here is trying to say is, we’re thinking about shooting a short film that involves you.”

Miss H poured three cups of tea, picked hers up, and sat back, smiling.

“Okay, you have my attention. Pitch it.”

Noah suddenly sat up straight and cleared his throat. It surprised me how quickly he shifted from goofing off to businesslike, but that was typical Noah. One second he’s something you expect, and the next he’s off in another world entirely.

“Miss H, I think you’re one of the most interesting people in this city,” he said slowly. I raised an eyebrow, but we had already agreed to let him do the talking.

“Good start Noah,” she said, smiling.

He grinned. “I’m not just buttering you up, I promise. You’ve been around my family for a long time, you knew my mother before she passed, and you knew my father before he turned into the biggest asshole in Hollywood. You practically raised me for a few years. You know that I have nothing but love and respect for you and what you do. Which is why, when Linda here came to me with the idea to shoot a short documentary about your life, I jumped all over it.”

I stared at him. I hadn’t known anything about Miss H knowing his family, though I had my suspicions.

“Well, Noah—” Miss H started, but stopped when Noah cut her off.

“Before you say no, and I know you’re about to, hear me out.”

She struggled to suppress another smile and nodded.

“The business is bullshit. We both know it. You’ve been in more films than I can count, and you’ve been pretty stellar in most of them.”

“All of them,” Miss H mumbled.

Noah grinned, but kept talking. “But here you are, doing local gigs and managing a theater. I know it’s not pretty to hear, but you haven’t gotten the recognition you deserve. I want to change that, Lacey. You were one of the few friends my mother had at the end, and although I know I don’t need to say this, it’s well overdue. I’m grateful for what you did, and I want to repay you by telling people your story. And it’s a pretty damn good story.”

“Let’s pretend that I’m interested,” Miss H said slowly.

Noah leaned back into the couch with a huge grin on his face.

“We’re pretending, darling,” Miss H said, holding up her hands.

“Oh, I know we are. But I also know that means you’re going to do it.”

She gave him a look. “If I do this, I don’t want it half assed.” 

Noah nodded. “I swear to you, we’ll do you justice. Linda here has some pretty damn good equipment, and she knows her shit. And you taught me everything about this business.”

She sighed dramatically. “You’re quite the salesman, Noah.”

“Learned from the best.”

“This isn’t going to take up my whole life, though. You can have some access, but I’m not going to divulge all of my secrets for the sake of your student film.”

He nodded. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

“Good. Then maybe I can do this.”

Noah’s smile widened. “Thanks, Miss H.”

“Yes, well, don’t tell anyone about my weakness.”

I looked between the two of them, completely at a loss for words. Noah looked at me and shrugged.

“I guess I didn’t mention how we knew each other,” he said.

I laughed, shaking my head. “No, you didn’t.”

“I’m an old friend of his mother’s, God rest her soul,” Miss H said, the beads on her shawl jangling as she crossed herself.

“After my mom died, my dad more or less dropped out for a while, and Miss H came around to fill the gap.”

“I practically raised this idiot,” she said fondly.

“I had no idea,” I said, shaking my head.

“We don’t really like to advertise it. The other guys at the theater might think she’s playing favorites.”

“Which I am,” Miss H added.

I laughed. “I guess that’s how you ended up getting involved with the theater.”

“When I heard she was in Philly, I asked her to manage the place.”

She nodded. “And since I wasn’t doing anything better, I thought, why not.”

I looked at Noah. “So was your mom involved in Hollywood, too?”

“Yeah, she was a writer. She wrote the screenplay for my dad’s first movie, actually. That’s how they met.”

“A marvelous writer, a genuine talent,” Miss H said.

I gaped at him. I couldn’t believe the weird connections between the two of us. That first movie had intertwined our two families in more than one way. Not only had his dad nearly ruined my mom’s life because of her bad review, but he had also met his future wife and the mother of his kid. That actually began to make more sense of the situation.

“Noah, you know what happened between our parents and that first movie,” I said slowly.

“Yeah, it’s a really weird coincidence.”

“What if it isn’t?”

He looked at my strangely. “What do you mean?”

“Think about it. Your dad meets your mom, falls in love with her, all that stuff. Then, he invites a journalist to review the movie she wrote, and it ends up getting panned big time. What if the whole reason he tried so hard to destroy my mom was because of your mother?”

Noah looked thoughtful for a second and sipped his tea.

“That would make sense, dear,” Miss H said, looking at him.

“Fine, maybe that’s true. It doesn’t change anything.”

“Maybe, but maybe not. It would mean that your dad did something for someone he loved, even if it was a crazy overreaction.”

“Paints your father in a new light,” Miss H said.

Noah shook his head. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Even if he was trying to be a good guy back then, something changed him.”

We lapsed into silence, and I could sense Noah beginning to brood. I regretted bringing it up, but the serendipity was too much to handle. Because of that one event so long ago, all of our lives were irrevocably changed. Noah’s parents met, my mother’s career shifted, and Miss H eventually was pressed into the life of her friend’s child. It all led to the three of us sitting in Miss H’s living room, talking about making a documentary about her life. One writer typed a sentence years ago, and the lives of everyone she touched were changed.