Capture

I shook my head a few times. Services?

"Words," Jaymeson challenged.

Jerking away from him, I typed vigorously on my phone, making sure that the smiley I sent also had a middle-finger salute.

Dani: WTH?

"See, that's just it." Jaymeson shrugged. "You can't hole up in the house forever, especially since Pris and I are going to be on set so much. It's not healthy. You finished your GED, and you refuse to do anything but work out, watch Bravo, cook, and stare at the ocean like it's going to eat you. Therefore, I got you a job."

I threw my hands into the air and typed.

Dani: I don't need a damn job!

"Oooo." Jaymeson showed his phone to Lincoln, "You're going to love her colorful language. She also has an affinity for every emoji on the planet, though none of them make sense with whatever she types. She just likes sending them. Her number should already be in your phone. I'll send her to your trailer tomorrow morning at six."

I stomped my foot to gain Jaymeson's attention.

He didn't look.

I stomped again.

Then texted.

Dani: Six a.m.? Are you out of your freaking mind?

"Never drops the F-bomb though." Jaymeson showed Lincoln my next text. "Pastor's daughter and all that." He hesitated, then seemed compelled to add, "You'll know when she wants to say it though. Trust me."

I groaned.

"So, I think this is going to go really well." Jaymeson let out a breath and eyed Pris. "Don't you, love?"

She grinned. "If they don't kill each other first."

I raised my hand.

Jaymeson's eyebrows rose as I quickly fired off another text.

Dani: Do I not get a vote?

"Nope." He was smiling, but it was one of those smiles that was laced with concern… pity.

I hated them.

"But if it makes you feel better, neither does Lincoln. His last assistant was caught trying to sell autographed shit on eBay, and for someone who claims he's really independent, he still can't do laundry."

Dani: I can't do laundry!

"She can do laundry, right?" Lincoln asked.

"Could have operated her own dry cleaners in another life." Jaymeson nodded encouragingly.

"Great." Lincoln looked relieved. "And she can keep her cool on set?"

Dani: Dude. Last time you were talking to NFL star Wes Michels I passed out, into the pool — needed to be revived.

I added a doctor sign.

"Ah…" Jaymeson waved in my direction. "She's used to being around celebrities. Hell, she puts up with me. She'll be fine on set."

Lincoln rubbed his hands together. "Well, great!"

No. Not great! Not great at all!

"I'll just text you later then."

I stared down at the counter, trying to figure out how to actually maneuver time, space, and matter so that I could jump into the small crevices and make myself one with the granite.

"Dani?" Jaymeson repeated.

My head jerked up.

"Lincoln was talking to you, not me."

My mouth dropped open. I managed a tight nod in Lincoln's direction, then held up my phone as if to say, "Yeah, text me. I'll answer and try not to run into you, stare too hard, sweat too profusely, or stumble over my legs in your presence."

I must have looked convincing because that devastating smile was back, and then he was gone.

"This will be good for you," Pris whispered in my ear, giving my body a tight squeeze. "Promise."

That's what she had said about cheerleading.

And look how that had ended?

Our parents' death — all because I'd wanted to compete.

CHAPTER TWO

Lincoln

SHE HAD TO BE THE MOST awkward person I'd ever encountered in my entire life. Granted, I was only twenty-two, had hardly lived, but I was Hollywood through and through.

I knew weird.

I was surrounded by it on a daily basis.

And that girl? It wasn't the fact that she didn't talk because she was nervous or just didn't give a flying rat's ass about me — I could get past that. It was the simple oddity that she wanted to.

But chose not to.

And because I was running on two hours sleep, I'd spent the past few minutes fantasizing what her voice would sound like.

Jo-Jo was waiting for me in the lobby when I jumped off the elevator.

"There you are!" she screeched loudly, enough so that my ears rang a bit while my skin crawled like I was having an allergic reaction to something. "Where have you been?"

Unlike Dani, Jo-Jo talked. A lot. And her voice? Well, the only way I could relate the sound her lips emitted was to think of the nearest butcher knifing a pig.

She laughed.

Maybe two pigs.

Another laugh.

Or five.

Why was she here again?

"So…" Her nails dug into my forearm. "… my agent says we just need a few pictures to circulate. Then I'll be out of your hair, baby."

Oh, and she called everything and everyone baby.

It wasn't cute.

Or endearing.

Or even slightly funny.

It was irritating, like her voice, and there I was again wondering about Dani. The girl with bright eyes and soft lips.

The girl who was mute.

"I hate the ocean, fish, crowds of people, and coffee shops that try too hard to be local and quaint." I was getting jerked toward the door, and why the hell was she listing things she hated?