Ruined (Barnes Brothers #4)(14)

The production company had been polite enough, waiting until six months had passed before they started asking him about coming in to wrap up things so they could get the movie going.

He’d ignored the e-mails, calls, and letters.

They started sending people out next.

When he hadn’t talked to them, threats of suing for failure to fulfill his contract had come next.

He’d returned the money along with an explicitly worded letter on where to shove it.

At that point, he guessed they’d figured out to just let it go.

It was a move to keep from losing face on their part. If they sued, it would end up in court and while he was being an *—and he knew he was—they’d be the ones looking like scum. He was, after all, grieving and licking his wounds. He could already picture the headlines.

It all made him sick.

And JD wanted him to come back to that?

Marin’s laugh, the sound distant, imperfect, thanks to the lack of complete editing on the reels, came out of the TV and he leaned forward, studying her beautiful face, her glowing eyes as she stared back at his character.

“You want to know what I look for in a man, Scott?”

“Isn’t that what I asked?”

Sebastien tried not to pretend his heart wasn’t speeding up as she leaned in. He could remember that scene. How she had laid her hand on his chest. How she had smiled up at him.

“You wish you knew, baby. You only wish you knew.”

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered.

Her face . . . Man, that face. The little dimple in her cheek flirting with her smile. “Shit.”

He shoved upright and hit the power on the giant screen before heading out of the room and up the stairs.

That was when he realized how late it had gotten. The day had died and night had come, and a few moments later, he found himself staring out at the endless black of the ocean. It wasn’t too different from the hours that stretched out in front of him, only those hours would be a lot quieter. Throwing open the door, he moved out into the night.

Wind slammed into him and he welcomed it, sucking in a half-desperate gulp of air.

Why hadn’t he paid attention to the time?

The days . . . yeah, the days were getting easier. He could get through the days, didn’t need to worry about really craving a drink—or even wanting one. Nights, though . . . nights were hard.

And tonight wasn’t hard; tonight was a mean bitch, and the urge to grab a bottle—

Spinning, he half stumbled, half ran inside and found himself in front of his liquor cabinet without any conscious decision to even do it.

A drink. Just one. Hell, he’d gone a few days, had proven he could. A few days . . . He thought back.

Five days.

The glass bottles glinted back at him, clear, blue, red, all of them catching the light like beautiful jewels.

Five miserable days.

Not since he’d stood in the darkened corner with Travis, sharing that bottle of champagne.

“Your life’s not over,” Travis had said.

“Be ready to be okay.” Mom’s voice mocked him.

His hand tightened on the cool, chrome plating of the cabinet. When had he even opened it? He’d been staring at the bottles through the clear glass.

With a curse, he turned and slammed the cabinet door shut with enough force that the bottles inside rattled.

***

“You do still want the part, don’t you?”

Looking up at her agent, she took a moment before she answered. Even though she loved and adored the man, Marin knew better than to let anybody know when she really wanted something.

Even JD.

Torn could be the most powerful part she’d ever play. Some people wouldn’t see it that way, but she saw the potential in it. She had from the beginning. But she hadn’t let JD see the greed in her. Did she want the part? Did seagulls fly? Did dolphins swim?

“Of course I still want the part. I’m glad Townsend is ready to go forward.” She placed the script facedown and settled back in her seat, studying her agent. “He has a lot of creative control. Has he talked about who it is he wants playing the male lead?”

JD tapped his index finger on the surface of his desk. “Actually . . . that’s part of why you’re here. I met with Townsend and Howard. They wanted to make sure you were still up for the part, and they posed a question to me.” He leaned forward, eyes intent.

The expression made her wary. “What?”

“I want you to talk to Sebastien.”

The jump made her head spin. “I talk to him once a week at least, JD.”

“I know. But I want you to talk to him about a part . . . specifically.”

Marin’s stomach did a funny little dance. “A part?” Her voice sounded terribly faint now and she cleared her throat before saying anything else. “JD, I think Sebastien would be better off talking to you about any parts he’s interested in.”

“I’ve already tried to talk to him, sweetheart. Talked to him two days ago—tried to call him yesterday and he wouldn’t even pick up the damn phone. So I’m calling in my secret weapon . . . you.” JD pointed a finger at her as he leaned forward and the intensity on his face only deepened. “There’s a special kind of magic between the two of you on the screen. Everybody can see it. He’d be perfect for the male lead in Torn—especially since you’re the one Townsend wants to play Marlena.”