Mia Thompson: June 20, 2013
I ran into Tom Fallston at Misk last night. It wasn’t an accident. I knew he would be there. I figured we needed to get better acquainted before filming started. We have decent chemistry and we’re doing some love scenes together in Illicit. Production starts in a few weeks and what better way to rehearse for the scenes than to actually do the scenes for real. Private rehearsals always make filming go smoother.
I’d read in the tabloids that last week Tom broke up with model turned actress, Felisha Elson, and I asked him about it. He said he had been thinking about me when he broke it off. I laughed. That was such a line, but it was creative. Two points for Tom.
I questioned how he dated her for so long—six months. She’s completely brainless and everyone knows it. He smiled as his eyes perused my body.
“I thought you and Jonathan were back together.”
As much as I wanted that to be true, it wasn’t and it was time to stop lamenting it. Jonathan and I are meant to be together and it will happen soon enough, but that doesn’t mean I should stop living my life. If I don’t stay relevant then my career will disintegrate. Tom Fallston was just what I needed to stay relevant in the press. With his fame and good looks, we’d be a power couple. For however short-lived, it would still be tabloid cover material. Besides movies always sell better when the leads are romantically involved and I had backdoor rights to this film. I would do all I could to make it profitable.
I shook my head to answer his question and his reaction seemed mixed.
“Too bad. I like to have to work for it,” he said, looking past me into the club as if searching for someone more challenging. I knew he was playing me, his body language invited me home for the night.
I was up for the game. I focused my gaze on a particularly gorgeous Adonis a few yards away, making eye contact with the guy and purring, “We’re not back together, but that doesn’t mean he’s not on retainer.” This seemed to do the trick and Tom stepped closer blocking my view of the other guy. A bit desperate I thought, but he got my full attention. His fingers pushed into my hair from the back of my neck and he tilted my head up like he was moving in for a kiss, but then just stared into my eyes. His were light brown and nothing like Jonathan’s eyes. Still, I fought hard not to lean into his hand. It had been a long time since I was with a man and my body craved the attention. I played the distant bitch, though, and made him think he had to work to catch my interest. I knew right then that I couldn’t go home with him that night—not challenging enough. If I was going to make this movie chemistry the best it could be I would need to string him along for a while and make him beg before giving in.
We talked intimately close for a while, my hand on his abdomen and his in my hair, and I could tell those around us noticed. It wouldn’t go unmentioned in the press. When I said my goodbye to meet up with Kiera and the others, he almost groaned as he said, “We should get together to go over a few scenes, before filming starts.”
“If you need extra rehearsal, I guess we could.” I threw a glance over my shoulder as I walked away and he followed me with his eyes pinned until I sank into the shadows of the club.
On the drive back to Kiera’s I sent a text to Jonathan, optimistically hoping he was still up and may be willing to slip back into our old routine.
Me: You home?
Jon: Yep. In bed.
Me: Want me to join you?
I thought I would put it out there just in case he was in as much need as me, but part of me knew he wouldn’t accept my offer.
Jon: Tired. How about coffee at Joe’s 9:30?
It was better than complete rejection.
Me: A bit early, but OK.
Jon: See you then.
I was right. 9:30 was way too early to meet him. I made it there though. I knew he would be seated in the back corner away from the windows and restrooms. It’s like he hides from his fans. I don’t understand his need for privacy. My choice would have been where people could find me. With my hair pulled back, my puffy sleep-deprived eyes met his perfectly groomed face and I slid into the booth next to him. A half smile greeted me and he passed me the skinny mocha latte that he’d ordered for me. He had even added the sugar. I love that he still remembers after all this time.
“Liam is in the hospital,” he said without looking up from his coffee.
“STD finally get him?” I asked and a small chuckle broke from his lips.
“Motorcycle accident. I was supposed to visit him, but I couldn’t stomach going into the hospital. Kelsey said he was so doped up on pain meds that he didn’t even notice that I wasn’t there.”
I didn’t know who Kelsey was, but she was connected to Nordstrom, not Jonathan and that’s all I cared about. “If they bother to dope him up, then he’ll survive.” I meant it in a comforting way, but being raised by my mother, I never really learned that womanly trait.
“I guess,” Jon said, before taking a sip of his coffee. “At least it wasn’t the paparazzi that caused the accident.”
“Yeah.” We sat in silence for a long minute. I didn’t want to talk about Nordstrom, but I didn’t want to come off as an insensitive bitch. I knew Jon was dealing with his ghosts and I didn’t know what to say. “He’s all right, though?”
“He’s supposed to get out of the hospital by the weekend. I’ll go visit him then.”
“So what else have you been up to?” I asked.
That damn panty dropping dimple crept onto his face and he shrugged. “Not much. You?”
“Who is she, Jon?” I asked.
“I didn’t say I was seeing someone.” He took a slow draw on his coffee and looked over at me, the dimple still on his cheek. He was definitely seeing someone. Denial was the first sign.
“You didn’t have to. I could tell by the look on your face. Who is she?”
“No one you’d know. She’s not Hollywood.” No worries then. She would never last. “How about you?” he added.
“I ran into Tom Fallston at Misk last night. I was thinking about making our film romance more real.”
His eyebrows curved up questioningly and he clamped his mouth shut as if he was forcing words to stay inside.
“Just tell me.”
“He asked me about you, like he wanted to know if the rumors about us getting back together were true.”
Tom wasn’t lying when he said he’d been thinking about me. “What did you say?”
“Something vague, you know me. He likes a challenge and you are definitely a challenge.”
“I am not that high maintenance. You always say that, but it’s not true.”
“Whatever you say, Mia.” He laughed and I knew I had brightened his mood.
We joked about some of the asinine things I’ve asked him to do over the years. Then he agreed to let me take a selfie of us having coffee together. It was totally out of character for him, but it was part of my plan to make me look like more of a challenge to Tom. I wondered what kind of non-Hollywood girl would be OK with her guy having early morning coffee with his ex. The implications were huge and the press would be spreading them like wildfire. Maybe he hadn’t thought that part through, but I wasn’t going to say anything. Jonathan and I were good together. It just wasn’t our time. It would be someday, though.
Copyright 2014 Susan Schussler
No comments:
Post a Comment