To Love Jason Thorn (10 page)

Outside the glass walls, the sky was slowly
darkening, and suddenly the entire back patio lit up with dim lights, making
the entire place look…magical.

“Olive?” Jason called my name in an amused
tone when he spotted me straying toward the glass panels to take a closer look.

With a sigh, I made it back to the long
kitchen bar as Jason took out more than a few takeout bags from one of the
cupboards.

“What’s for dinner?” I asked hopping onto
one of the bar stools and almost sliding right off of it.

Jesus, why in the hell would they make the
seat so small?

Trying to be all covert about it, I pushed
myself up on the foot rest again and tried to sit on it sideways so it would
look like I was actually sitting comfortably on the stupid thing.

As my arms started to burn from trying to
balance myself, I gave up and jumped down before I fell off again.

After taking off my leather jacket, I
rounded the huge island and came to stand next to Jason.

Peering into one of the boxes, I asked, “Oh,
chicken chow mein, do we have beef, too?”

“Thankfully, we have two beef chow mein and
two chicken chow mein, and all this extra stuff.”

“Great. Can I help with anything?”

“I’m trying to find the chopsticks,” he
muttered as he emptied all the bags on the counter. “Can you check the drawers
to your left? I should have some extra ones somewhere in there.”

“Sure.” Picking up all the empty paper bags
and setting them aside, I leaned down and tried to figure out how to open his
drawers. Since there were no handles, I lightly pushed at the first one, and it
opened automatically.

I rolled my eyes.

Rich people.

It was full of knives, impressively organized
by size, but no chopsticks, so I pushed it back.

When I lightly touched the second drawer, suddenly
the third one snapped open, hitting me just below the knee. I gasped in pain
and had to take a step back with the unexpected force of it.

The only problem was, instead of finding my
balance like the graceful human being I was supposed to be, the back of my
thighs hit another drawer Jason had opened behind me, and I lost my balance. In
that split second, I accepted the fact that I was about to fall right on my ass;
I just wished it didn’t have to happen right in front of Jason fucking Thorn.

However, instead of feeling my ass hit the
floor, I felt one hand firmly close around my left boob as an arm hugged me right
under my breasts. For a moment—for a
looong
moment—both of us stood
still, my bottom parallel to the floor. Jason’s hand flexed on my breast as if
he was checking the size of it, and the other dropped lower toward my stomach.

“Fuck,” he cursed in a raspy voice right
next to my ear, and the word sent shivers down my spine.

Please, how could I have not closed my eyes
to live that shiver to the fullest? And so what if I did arch into his touch just
a little bit? Maybe barely held back a moan? Who could blame me? I was just a
human, after all.

When he suddenly pulled away his right hand
from my stomach as if touching me had burned his skin off, my legs shook and I
reached for the first thing I could grab on to.

His hand.

The one that was still covering my boob.

And fine, if you really need me to admit it,
at some point I might have kind of squeezed his hand and that might have
inadvertently forced him to squeeze my boob. Or maybe I had groped myself with
his hand? Who the hell knows, and more importantly, who the hell cares? Hands
touch boobs all the time, all over the world. I bet, at that exact moment, a
lot of boobs were being touched.

“Little one.” He growled and his chest—
oh,
dear god, his chest
—hit my back, holding me firmer against him.

One deep breath.

Two deep breaths
.

His hand was still on my boob, and my hand was—not
so surprisingly—still over his when I said, “I’m so sorry. Just…just give me a
second to get my balance back.”

His arm wrapped around my middle again and he
hoisted me up.

When I was no longer parallel to the beautiful
hardwood floor and felt like I could master standing straight all by myself
again, I reluctantly let go of his hand, which was resting comfortably on my
breast.

As soon as he made sure I was okay, he
lifted both his hands off me and slowly took a few steps back.

Not knowing what to say, I looked down and
saw the damn chopsticks sitting in the open third drawer.

I cleared my throat, a few times actually.
“I found them.”

“Great,” he said a few seconds later, his
voice all rumbly.

Jesus!
Talk
about dreams coming true.

Not having the courage to look at him, I
snatched up two sets of chopsticks, pushed the freaking drawer closed, and
walked back to the glass panels.

Even though my face was probably as red as
a frigging tomato, I was grinning like crazy. When I noticed there was no way I
could figure out how to open the panels, I decided it would be wiser to wait
for Jason before I brought the house down on us.

Two takeout boxes in his hand, he came to
stand beside me with a small remote control.

When all the glass panels surrounding the
living room and the kitchen area opened up, I took my first step out to heaven
and took a deep breath of the crisp air.

“It smells amazing,” I said in a low voice,
not quite having the courage to look at his face yet.

“It smells…like grass,” he said.

“I know. I love it.” I took a few more
steps. “Can we sit by the pool?”

“We have a table.” He pointed toward a big
table on the patio.

“I saw that, but I want to dip my toes in.”

His hand touched my back and he guided me
toward the pool.

Pushing the chopsticks into my pocket, I
took off my shoes, bent down, and rolled up my jeans. When I was happy with the
length, I straightened up and stood at the very edge of the pool.

“It’s amazing up here, Jason.” When he
didn’t answer, I glanced back and saw him taking off his shoes and socks. I bit
down on my bottom lip to keep myself from smiling and turned back to face the
amazing view.

Taking the chopsticks out of my pocket so
they wouldn’t break when I sat down, I lowered myself to the ground and dipped
my legs into the pool.

I closed my eyes and turned my face up
toward the sky with a small smile on my face. There was a quiet splash of water,
and I knew Jason was sitting down too.

“Thank you for inviting me up here,” I said
finally, opening my eyes to glance at him.

His eyes were already on me. Smiling back,
he shook his head and handed me my dinner, grabbing his chopsticks before I
could hand them to him myself.

“You are different from what I’m used to,
little one. Different from the little kid I remember,” he said as we started eating
our dinner in a comfortable silence.

“Different how?”

“I don’t know yet.”

I thought about it for a minute, then in a
conversational tone said, “Maybe it’s the boobs?”

Choking on his food, he coughed for a good minute
while I sat there serenely, looking straight ahead.

At last, in a strangled voice, he said,
“Yeah. It might be the boobs.”

Yup, he had noticed my boobs.

Score one for my boobs!

***

When Tom finally came around, it was almost
nine o’clock.

“I’m sorry I’ve kept you guys waiting for
so long. I was with another client.”

“Please, I should be the one thanking you
for sparing time for me in your hectic schedule, and I have no idea what
percentage you take for these kinds of things, but please let me know so I
can—”

“That’s been taken care of, you don’t have
to worry about it,” Jason cut in.

“But—”

“It’s okay Miss Taylor—”

“Please call me Olive,” I interjected as I
reached out for the papers he had pushed in front of me.

Smiling, he continued. “Olive, it’s a
pretty standard contract, but we’ll still go over it so you can decide if there
is a clause you aren’t feeling comfortable with.”

I nodded. I knew nothing, nothing at all
about this stuff.

“The first good news is,” Tom started as
Jason got up from his seat next to me to get Tom a drink. “This project is
never hitting the ‘development limbo’.” When I stared at him blankly, he
explained in a bit more detail.

“After a producer or a studio options the
movie rights to a book, the timeline is usually around twelve to eighteen
months or sometimes even longer to get the production started, and even after
that, there is no guarantee that it will ever happen. In your case, they want
to capitalize on the buzz that’s been going around your book, meaning since
they’ve already secured a big name like Jason, the rest of it will come through
quickly.”

Reaching up, he accepted the whiskey—or
maybe bourbon, either way they both tasted terrible—from Jason and kept going.

“Jason will be in Canada for a while for
another shooting, then he has press junkets with the other cast members of
The
Witness
. Because of that, they are aiming to start filming when Jason is
back in the city. So, Olive, if you sign the contract, this is definitely
happening. The casting for the smaller characters will get done while Jason is
in Canada, but they will hold off on choosing the right person for Evie until
Jason can spare a few days and come back to LA.” He turned to look at Jason.
“We need to arrange your schedule accordingly. They want you to sit in on the
auditions for Evie and do a screen test with the remaining few. You can come
back on your day off from the filming.”

“Screen test?” I asked, looking between
Jason and Tom. When I said I knew nothing, I meant it.

“A screen test is a method they use to
determine the suitability of an actor or actress for the role. Since the book
is centered on Jason and Evie’s relationship, they have to have a strong on-screen
chemistry. It doesn’t matter if someone aces the audition. They need to see how
she works with Jason, so he’ll have to come here for those last steps of the audition
process.”

“They don’t want me to audition at all?”
Jason asked, frowning at Tom. “I can do a reading from Olive’s book instead of
waiting for the screenplay to be done.”

Tom took a sip of his drink and shook his
head. “Since they know you are interested, they want you in it, and you’ve
already established yourself as a strong actor. They don’t need you to audition.
But the other stuff…” Tom glanced at me before hardening his gaze on Jason
again. “The other stuff we need to talk about. Otherwise, everything you’ve
worked on will go up in flames. You haven’t seen your contract yet; the studio
has some restrictions over your personal life.”

“Fine. I get it,” Jason snapped at him. “Leave
my shit out of this. You’ll get your say tomorrow at our meeting. Just go
through Olive’s contract tonight.” Jason’s harsh voice made me turn to look at
him. Without saying another word, he got up and disappeared from our sight.

A little confused, I had to force myself to
focus on Tom when he started talking to me again.

According to my contract, I wouldn’t have
any say on the final script. If they ended up changing the end—like they had
hinted—I didn’t have the right to throw a fit over it. Since I was a new author
and not yet established, Tom didn’t see a way where he could get them to modify
that specific clause. The option fee was a flat fee, but the initial ‘purchase
price’ for the movie rights would be three percent of the initial funding—with a
cap of course. That was something Tom had already negotiated for, and I would
be getting paid when production started.

In the end, we decided that there were only
a few points worth negotiating before signing it, and apparently, the most
important one was where and how they would be using the author’s credit—meaning,
my name and the book’s title.

When we were finally done with everything,
Tom left, and I found myself alone with Jason again.

“They actually want my book, Jason,” I
said, hugging my knees as I sat on the fancy couch.

“They had you in their offices, little
one,” he reminded me as he came to sit next to me. “Of course they want your
book. Did you have any doubt?”

“Yeah. I think up until this moment, I
didn’t take them seriously.”

“And now? How do you feel?”

Resting my temple on my knees, I looked at
him through blurry eyes. I was having trouble containing my smile. “You’re
probably going to freak out, but I might start crying at any moment now.”

I could already feel my nose tingling.

He stood up and offered me his hand. “Come
on, I’ll give you a big hug. If you are going to cry, well, you deserve to have
a hug while you cry.”