The love script, p.18
The Love Script, page 18
“If it doesn’t, then I’ll try the next thing and the next until this becomes a nonissue for you.”
I squeezed his hand. “I really do appreciate that, but maybe I was trying to do things on my own.” More like still process. I truly had no idea how to handle all those flashing lights. Was pride getting in my way?
“Why? I’m your boyfriend. I’m supposed to protect you and be here for you.”
“Lamont, that’s probably the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. But maybe allowing me to figure stuff out on my own could actually help you.”
“What?”
I winced at his incredulous tone.
“How do you figure?”
Here goes. “The paparazzi couldn’t care less about me. It’s you they want. They want to know everything about you, and I’m their target in lieu of the real prize. If I handle it on my own, they’ll realize they can’t get to you through me. But if you ride up in your Mercedes—” I paused, tilting my head to see if the interior of the car had a logo. I actually hadn’t seen which car he’d arrived in. “This is the Mercedes, right?”
“The Tesla but continue.”
Another car. “Right, so if you ride up in your Tesla or whatever car of the day you’re driving, you become exactly the target they’ve been trying to trap. Surely you realize I’m just bait.” Or maybe not, since it just occurred to me in the middle of my tirade.
I was the easy target in all of this. The internet trolls couldn’t shut Lamont down and were probably irritated he was back to being a golden boy, so they went after me for not meeting their beauty or celebrity standards.
“Even if you are, I can’t stand by and let you deal with all of this alone. We’re a team now.”
Oh, my heart. Why had I tried to shield myself? To believe that this was all fake? Just remembering him bringing up our relationship status yesterday took all the defenses out of my heart. “You’re right.”
This time he squeezed my hand. “Is there anything else going on?”
“Well, I may have to move out.”
“Because of the paparazzi?”
I shifted in my seat to look at his profile. “Nora wanted to use us as a chance to be in the spotlight. If I didn’t know any better, she’s probably why the paparazzi came back.” Which, now that I thought about it, made the most sense.
Lamont shook his head. “Is there any other way to handle the situation?”
“Moving out was her ultimatum.”
“Are both of your names on the lease?”
I smiled. “Why, yes they are.”
“Then she can’t make you leave.”
“True.” I paused, thinking. “But do I want to live with someone who would use me like that?”
“Good point.” He tapped the steering wheel with one hand. “Then what will you do?”
“I don’t know.” With my income tenuous at the salon, I either needed to find another roommate or get a stylist position on a film set.
“Do you want me to help you find a place? I had an awesome realtor.”
“I’m pretty sure our price points are different.”
“I could loan you some money,” he offered.
“Ugh, that’s exactly what everyone expects.” My voice echoed in the interior thanks to the raised volume I’d used.
Lamont simply looked in the rearview mirror, put on the hazard lights, and pulled over to the shoulder.
He faced me. “You honestly care if people think you’re taking advantage of me?”
“Of course I do. That’s not why I decided to date you. I don’t want people thinking I’m a gold digger.”
“You’re not.” He looked like he was trying to contain his laughter, so I narrowed my eyes.
He trailed a finger down my cheek, then placed his palm on the side of my face. “You couldn’t be a gold digger if you tried.”
“Other people think I am.”
“What other people? You know better than to listen to people sniffing for blood.”
A tear spilled over, stopping at his thumb. “Monica may have mentioned it.”
His brows furrowed. “The salon owner?”
I nodded. “She was going to fire me the day you got the movie offer, but I managed to turn it into an unpaid vacation.” And, wow, that still hurt.
The veins in Lamont’s neck became pronounced. “On what grounds?”
“Don’t. Don’t go white knight on me.” Even though my heart upticked at the sight. “I’ll probably lose composure, and my face won’t be fixed in time for church.”
“Church is the perfect place to ruin your makeup.”
“Then take me there and let me cry. Just not on the side of the road.”
Lamont placed a kiss on my forehead. “Is that it? Is that all you were hiding about your ‘terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day’?”
“You only watched that movie because Steve Carell was in it, didn’t you?”
“No, Jennifer Garner was the pull.”
I rolled my eyes, then leaned over the center console and kissed him. Kissed him for caring, kissed him for using movie quotes all the time.
He pulled away. “I think we need to get to church.” His voice sounded husky, and I wanted to cheer for making it sound that way.
But he was right. It was time to show my face at a place I wasn’t sure I liked all that well. At least it wasn’t stifling like the one I grew up going to. That place was so very strict and had way too many rules, including what you could wear. Oh, how I had chafed at not being able to chew gum or having to ensure my legs were fully covered at all times, as if my legs were shameful. I’d been too young to understand that they were trying to encourage modesty and decorum, and only picked up on the censure of wearing a dress to church that left portions of my legs bare.
“Should we visit your parents’ church one Sunday?” Lamont asked.
“Hard pass.”
“What’s it about their church you don’t find appealing?”
“All the rules.”
“Did you try out different places during college?”
“Mm-hmm.” Too many. “Only none of the churches near the university had congregants that resembled me. When I moved to Studio City, I tried so many that I ventured outside my zip code. I’ve never felt like I fit in, and none of them seemed like a safe place. So eventually I stayed home or did other things on Sunday.” I wanted to meet Lamont’s gaze but was also afraid to see his disappointment.
“Then I’ll pray for the right fit.”
And that was all he said.
The lot was full when we pulled into the parking lot.
“It’s a good thing the snaparazzi gives people space at church,” he said.
“‘Sanctuary,’” I quoted in my best Quasimodo impression.
“Hunchback of Notre Dame?”
“Of course.” We shared a grin.
We strolled into the building just in time to hear the opening of a worship song. I discreetly scanned the premises, checking the diversity quota today. Lamont’s church had a lot of rich parishioners—you could tell by the cars sitting in the lot—but they also seemed to have some middle class as well. Jury was still out on exactly how diverse the church was. It was too large for me to count how many people walked in that fell in the shades between Lamont’s lighter skin and my darker one, but I did notice other Black and Brown faces.
Maybe I could let the turmoil of the past few days roll off my back. Just sit in prayer with the Lord and somehow recalibrate. Please help me, God.
As the song’s lyrics washed over me, I blew out a breath and lifted my voice with everyone else. At least I knew this song and didn’t feel so awkward like some of the past few Sundays attending. For now I’d try to focus on God and remind myself He was in our praise and I didn’t have to feel alone.
Twenty-Four
Lamont sat back in his office chair and hit the join button for the video conference call. The other participants filled his screen in a grid pattern, so he smiled.
“Thanks for having me, gentlemen,” he said.
“Wonderful to have you here, Lamont,” James Cannon said. “Our company is pleased to be working with you.”
Lamont couldn’t believe he was on a conference call with the owner of Cannon Industries. Not his assistant but the actual owner of the huge film production company.
“Well, hold on,” Bryan interjected. “Nothing’s been signed.”
Lamont wished Bryan was beside him and not on-screen so he could kick his agent in the shin. Instead, he pushed his cheeks higher. “I don’t see a reason why we won’t go in that direction. I feel very good about the contract.”
The owner of Cannon Industries smiled. “Glad to hear that.”
“You have a great reputation, Lamont,” Otto Schneider said. The director for the film wore a casual T-shirt instead of the suit Mr. Cannon wore. “I’m glad all that mess with your girlfriend was cleared up. We definitely want a clean reputation for all who come aboard this film.”
“I completely understand. I keep the same mentality for whatever film I’m working on.” Lamont would have to buy Nevaeh a thank-you gift. If it weren’t for her willingness to be his girlfriend in the beginning—before their decision to continue to date—he would be having a different conversation right now.
“As you know, we’ll be filming in Canada, New Zealand, then back in Studio City. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No.” He paused. “Well, not with the filming. I did have a question regarding the morality clause listed in the contract.” He understood those clauses were becoming standard, but CI’s wording was a little ambiguous in parts.
“Yes?” James said. “Is there a problem?”
“I needed to clarify a part.”
The men nodded while Bryan eyed him in a suspicious manner.
Lamont cleared his throat. “Is there a problem if my girlfriend visits me on location?” The wording regarding visitations almost sounded like only married actors had that right.
Otto looked at James, a wordless conversation passing between them. Then James met Lamont’s stare. “I know your stance on celibacy, but our standard is to be above reproach. We don’t want anyone misconstruing a hotel visit, even if she were to have her own room.”
Lamont swallowed. They were essentially asking him not to see Nevaeh for six months.
“Will that be an issue?” Otto asked.
Bryan smiled. “Of course not. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, right?” He laughed.
Lamont wanted to reach through the screen of his Mac and shake his agent. He knew better than to speak for Lamont. Instead, Lamont kept his mouth shut. He would talk to Bryan once this meeting was over. It was supposed to be a mere formality to make sure everyone’s interests aligned before they moved to signing the actual contract. However, this clause made Lamont pause.
If he could suffer through the rest of the pleasantries until the video call was over, he could call Nevaeh and get her input. Surely she’d have an opinion on the separation. It was one thing to talk about the possibility of not seeing each other, but now Cannon was essentially saying it was a guarantee. Tuck’s comment about making sure Nevaeh was okay with the distance reared in his mind. How had he forgotten to talk to her more before this meeting happened?
Oh yeah, the paparazzi had taken center stage.
Funny how in the beginning he thought this would all end amicably with no real feelings involved and now the thought of six months apart was enough to make him break into a sweat. What could he do about it?
He sat up in his seat. “Do you guys have a hair stylist lined up already?”
James stopped talking and looked at the camera. Oops, had Lamont interrupted something important?
“Sorry, my mind was on logistics. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“No, no.” James motioned for Lamont to continue. “Your girlfriend is a stylist, right?”
“Yes. She has skills in makeup as well, but her passion lies in hair styling.”
“Those positions haven’t been set yet, but I see no reason why we can’t look at her credentials,” Otto stated. “Have her email me her portfolio, and we’ll go from there.”
“Great. I’ll let her know.” Lamont wanted to throw a fist in the air. If Nevaeh worked on set, then they could be together.
“Just so you know,” James started, “if she ends up being employed on set, we don’t allow coworkers to date. It’s caused some problems in the past.”
“But we’re already dating.” He blinked. “The world knows we’re dating. It’s not like we’d be doing anything in secret.”
“Yes, but what if you two break up and then can’t get along on set? Not to mention the staff usually resides in the same hotel as the actors. Again, perception is the issue here.”
“Right, because I always argue with the costume department.” He sat back, taking a measured breath. Why were they making this so difficult?
James’s mouth turned downward.
Otto sighed. “If we made exceptions for you, then we’d have to make exceptions for everyone else.”
Bryan stared at Lamont through his computer’s camera and gave a slight shake of the head. Lamont didn’t know if his agent was signaling to be quiet or something else. Either way, he’d had enough of this meeting.
Lamont propped his elbow on his desk, placing his chin in his hand, then wiped at his mouth. It was the code he and Bryan had come up with for wrap it up.
“Well, gentlemen, I think this conversation has been really helpful,” Bryan started.
Lamont tuned him out until the other men dropped from the meeting.
“What was that?” Bryan asked.
“Come over, and we’ll talk more.”
“Fine.” Bryan looked at his smart watch, swiping continuously. Probably trying to locate his calendar. “Give me thirty minutes.”
“That’s fine.” Lamont didn’t have to be on set for another couple of hours since they had an evening scene. He had no plans to talk Bryan’s ear off.
Thirty minutes later, Bryan arrived.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“Nah, I had something on the way over.” Bryan rolled the sleeves of his shirt up. “So what’s wrong? I know that tone.”
“What made you think you could speak for me? Did you ever consider I don’t want to go six months without seeing my girlfriend?”
Bryan snorted. “Please, it’s not as if your relationship is real.”
“Who said it wasn’t?”
“Are you kidding me?” Bryan lifted his hands. “It was always supposed to be a fake relationship.”
Lamont paused, working to keep his emotions in check. He didn’t want to lose his cool like he used to when he turned eighteen and felt everyone was trying to control him. This was different. He was different. “I told you from the beginning I wasn’t comfortable with a fake relationship. Besides, Nevaeh and I have agreed to legitimately date. We. Are. Dating.”
“Right. ‘Dating.’” Bryan used air quotes. “It’s a great publicity stunt. Look how many supporters you have now, and with this movie offer, your career is golden. I told you, all we had to do was change the narrative.”
“Bryan. I didn’t do this to further my career but to make sure everything I’ve worked for didn’t turn to smoke.” A career in this industry could be fleeting. Lamont wanted a little more time in Hollywood so he could continue to help those who needed help and use his platform for God’s glory.
“Well, now it won’t. You’re a hot commodity. However, turning your little outings with Richards into the real deal—” Bryan shook his head—“dangerous game, my friend.”
“Why would you say that?” Lamont paced the area in front of the kitchen island, trying to get out his irritation in healthy ways.
“Because now your focus is split. Instead of thinking of your career, you’re considering turning down a role because you can’t be away from your girlfriend for half a year.” He scoffed. “I can’t even believe I’m hearing this.”
That made two of them.
Lamont had always appreciated having Bryan in his corner. When his life had taken a turn for the worse, Bryan had helped pull him back. Found Lamont a therapist to help him work through the fast-changing life and the anger he’d harbored from various people trying to fill the role of father. Bryan had been different. He had informed Lamont he would be more like a mentor and a guide since Ms. Rosie was more than capable of raising Lamont. Bryan had encouraged Lamont to leave the alcohol alone and find something else to channel his energy into.
When Lamont had found God, Bryan had been skeptical until he started seeing the changes in Lamont. Although Bryan didn’t believe in God, he never mocked Lamont’s faith, as long as it “kept him on the straight and narrow.”
Still, Lamont would continue hoping his life would be a testimony for Bryan. Only right now, he didn’t recognize the man standing in his kitchen.
“I’m dating Nevaeh,” Lamont repeated. “Not for publicity, for real. And I refuse to be away from her for six months.”
“So let them hire her. You’ll see her then.”
“You heard him say we couldn’t be together if we’re both under contract with the company. That’s ridiculous. If we go out for coffee, are they going to consider that a date? Fraternization?”
Bryan threw up his hands. “But you’ll still see her.”
“It’s like you’re not even listening.” Lamont squeezed the bridge of his nose.
“I’m done. You’re obviously not thinking clearly, and I blame that on your ‘real relationship.’” He headed toward the door. “Call me when you want to have a serious conversation.”
“I am being serious.”
Bryan stopped and turned back toward Lamont. “Then maybe give her the option. I’m sure she’d jump at the chance to work on another set.”
Probably. But would she be choosing it to be closer to Lamont or to further her career? He swallowed and said nothing as his agent walked out. When had this all become so complicated? He didn’t want to hinder Nevaeh’s career, but he also wanted to know she’d choose him over it.
