I nodded, saying nothing, because they really had no idea how hot Jackson was, which suited me perfectly well.
“You made popcorn? Are you expecting a show?” Dave asked Miguel.
Meanwhile, Harrison placed an arm over my shoulder and whispered, “But he’s not as hot as me.”
“That’s debatable,” Miguel tossed back at Harrison, apparently overhearing his comment. Then both Dave and Miguel turned toward the main house, continuing to bicker about popcorn, with Miguel giving Dave a shove. “What? I wanted popcorn. Stop commenting on my food.”
I smiled, watching my guards for a moment before realizing they were heading in the wrong direction. “Hey, where are you going?”
“Sienna said to come over so you and Harrison can talk,” Dave said, turning to walk backward. “But you only get an hour and then we have to kick him out. Jethro’s orders.”
I glanced at Harrison, to see how he felt about this arrangement. His face—which I used to think of as devastatingly handsome—was scrunched in a frown. I thought he must’ve been irritated at the time limit, but then he called after them, “It’s not debatable to anyone with eyes, Miguel.”
Without turning, Miguel said, “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He then added something else on a mumble that I didn’t hear as the two guards made it to Sienna’s front porch.
Still frowning, Harrison faced me, his arm dropping from my shoulders. “But he is hot,” he said, the statement sounding like a concession. “I thought maybe he was just photogenic.”
I firmed my lips so I wouldn’t smile. “Nope.”
“Hmm.” Harrison inspected me, making no attempt to conceal his trademark swaggery grin. He had a very alluring grin—boyish and yet wolfish at the same time. “You look good, Rae. Rested.”
“Thank you, Harrison. I feel good and rested.”
He tilted his head to the side, indicating to the carriage house. “We should go inside before we’re eaten alive. I think I’ve already been bitten twice. How do you stand all the bugs here?”
I stepped forward to lead the way. “I use this substance called insect repellant. Have you heard of it? You can now buy it in stores, anyone can get it.”
“Ha ha. Domino warned me you were back to your old self.”
“Oh? Did he?”
“Yes. He said you were cracking jokes and laying down the law every time you two talked this month.”
Good. Domino, smart and talented at his job, had obviously prepared Harrison for what to expect. I wasn’t a pushover anymore, allowing others to treat me like a commodity. I made my own decisions.
“Do you want something to drink?” I asked, closing the door behind us and walking toward the kitchen. I checked the clock above the stove. With any luck, I’d be able to convince Harrison to see things my way, we’d hammer out the beginning of a plan, and he’d leave before midnight.
Then, Jackson friendly times!
“No, thanks. Let me text my driver, let him know to come back and wait outside until we’re done.”
I grabbed a water glass for myself and filled it at the fridge, debating how best to hurry this along.
“This guy, he’s a policeman?” Harrison asked distractedly.
“He’s a sheriff’s deputy. But you’re not here because of Jackson.” I turned to find that Harrison had followed me into the kitchen. He stood on the other side of the island, eschewing a stool in favor of standing, his phone already tucked away.
“I love his name, Jackson. It’s a good name.” Harrison rubbed his clean-shaven chin, the entirety of his attention now on me. I used to find his eyes—which were pure turquoise—unsettling. Now, they were just Harrison. “Do you think I should grow a beard?”
“I don’t know. I imagine you’re tired?”
“I am tired. I’ve been traveling all day.” His gaze swept down and then up my body, perhaps taking note of my slouchy, sleepy posture. “Should I come back tomorrow?”
“No. Let’s talk this through now, then you can get back to LA.”
“Fine.” He braced his feet apart, his expression carefully bored. “I know you want to call it off.”
“Okay.” Good. Glad that’s out of the way. “But?”
“But I want you to consider the wedding during production of Midnight Lady one more time.”
“No.” I didn’t add that, unless the script reverted to its original state, I didn’t want the part anymore.
“Just, listen.” He lifted his hands, palms out. “Think about it. We could do the wedding shoot, the whole nine, staring into each other’s eyes. The tux, the white dress. That shit will blow up everywhere. We can sell the first photo rights for major cash, donate the money.”
“I’m not marrying you.” I took a sip from my water glass.
Unsurprisingly, he continued as though I hadn’t spoken, “And then, two months later, messy divorce. You move out, reconcile with your hot guy here if you want, if you think that works for your goals and won’t hurt your image too much. Meanwhile, I’m heartbroken, you’re the one that got away. I’m this dark, brooding, sexy, sensitive loner who can’t get over the loss of his soul mate. They’ll let me play Batman after that.” He bit his lip, grinning and wagging his eyebrows. “I’ve always wanted a rubber suit.”
Despite myself, I laughed. “Harrison—”
“Come on, Rae.” He came around the island to settle his hands on my shoulders, giving me his most beseeching, smoldering stare. “You know you want to.”
“I definitely don’t want to.” I shook his hands off. “I’m not even a little bit tempted.”
“What? Why not?”
“Because just the thought of pretending again makes me want to throw up.”
“Gee. Thanks.”
“Seriously. It makes me sick, what you and I did these last four years—and for what?”
“Free publicity? Great movie roles? A place in history as one of Hollywood’s most epic love stories?”
“I’m done.” Even now, thinking about it, my stomach soured. “The answer is no. We separate now. I promise to make everything before right now continue to look real, I promise I’ll keep this secret forever, but it’s over today.”
He sighed, shoving his hands in his pants pockets and studying me for several seconds, his stare turning hard. “So, what? You’re with this guy? This police guy?”
“Yes. Because it’s the truth.” I drank another sip of water.
His eyes searched mine, imploring me to rethink my decision. “Isn’t it so much safer to just keep pretending? No one can hurt you if they don’t really know you, Rae.”
Typical Harrison.
“No. You have it wrong. No one can hurt me if I know myself.” I managed a small smile. “So no more pretending.”.
Face grumpy, eyes narrowed, Harrison made a disgruntled sound, the line of his mouth flat and severe. “And there is nothing I can say or do to change your mind?”
“No.”
“Okay.” Crossing his arms over his chest, his gaze turned frosty. “Then I guess we have to talk about how to extract me from this in a believable way.”