The love script, p.5
The Love Script, page 5
All this thinking was making my brain hurt. “The reason behind it all would be. We’re trying to save his career and prevent him from being canceled. That’s actually a concern these days.” I thought back to some of the other online debacles I’d witnessed where people ended up closing their social media accounts to survive the onslaught of hatred from people who perceived they’d wronged another—whether true or not.
Now that I thought about it, how many of those instances had been the full story? When the public started using #canceling, employers and endorsers soon caved to demands and pulled their backing. I’d even seen syndicated episodes prevented from airing any longer.
“Then agreeing to this relationship will keep his reputation spotless?”
“Yes?”
Her rheumy eyes twinkled. “What will it do for you?”
“Keep me from being seen with a scarlet letter,” I quipped.
“Psshah. In Hollywood? Half the starlets have worn the brand a time or two, some of the men as well. Does that really matter?”
“It could.” My head bobbed up and down. “Lamont stands for something good. If people believe I’m the reason he’s a hypocrite . . . I don’t want to be the woman who caused the downfall of a Hollywood golden boy. I don’t want this to be a distraction in every job interview I go to from now on.”
“Two reputations and a lie? Sounds like a seedy novel.”
I laughed and ate another cookie. “What do you think I should do, Mrs. Hazelton?”
“Sweetie, that’s something only you can answer. But I will say, if you want to be real, want to be authentic, then you need to draw lines in the sand and stand firm. Those lines don’t have to be straight, because nothing in life is ever that simple, but you do have to determine what you’re comfortable with. If you believe this will save your reputation, do so. If you think it’ll cause moral damage to your soul, accept the earthly consequences of the media storm. Either way, there will be drama to follow.”
Ugh. I hated how right she was. I wanted a simple fix. Maybe even a Time-Turner to go back and keep from tripping over my own two feet. You’d think my body would be used to them by now. I wasn’t an adolescent anymore—hello, twenty-eight—but I hadn’t yet figured out how to keep from tripping over air, let alone steps.
“Thanks for the cookies, Mrs. Hazelton.” I stood and wrapped my arm around her shoulder, giving a light squeeze.
“Anytime, dear.” She patted my hand. “I’ll say a prayer for you two. Maybe an angel will visit and tell you what to do.”
“If only.”
I waved and left her tiny apartment—the one she’d lived in by herself for the past twenty years. I needed to do better and check on her more often. Something more than the occasional greeting when I saw her outside sitting in her rocking chair.
Once back in my room, I opened my favorite social app and searched the hashtag for Lamont Booker. Only now there was another one attached to his name: #christianornot.
I shook my head. How could one photo make people question his values? Everything I’d seen about him appeared to be sincere. I’d never seen a parade of women in his house, and Ms. Rosie certainly didn’t complain about supposed playboy ways. If anything, she mentioned how she wanted him to settle down with the right girl.
Plus, Ms. Rosie shared how he liked to read his Bible and go to church, and I’d read once that he had a clause in every contract that he got a day of rest. That didn’t sound like a hypocrite with a ploy to gain more fans by being someone he wasn’t. I believed his conversion was real. But more than that, who was I to judge whether he was Christian enough?
I bit my lip. I wasn’t a big deal like Lamont Booker. No one cared about my values, but he was a light in a dark place. All kinds of sleazy things went on in this industry. It would be great to have one more person contributing to the goodness of it. Show another side.
As I read comment after comment, I knew in my heart exactly what I’d choose to do.
Six
Lamont
Fellas, is it ridiculous to think a fake relationship will solve all my problems?
Tuck
What? Start from the top.
Chris
For real. Fake relationship with who? The nonexistent hair on your head?
Lamont
Ha! You know I can grow hair on my head, but I look better bald. That’s what landed me in People magazine.
Tuck
Vain much?
Chris
He is an actor.
Lamont
Focus. I’m going to fake a relationship with Nevaeh.
Tuck
Are you joking?
Chris
Say what?
Lamont
How about I FaceTime?
Tuck
Gotta head to the barn. Give me two minutes.
Lamont checked his watch to see how much time had passed, then called his friends.
“What’s this about a fake relationship?” Chris rubbed his beard-covered chin. His eyes looked a little weary. Was he still waking up? Or was that just an over-forty look?
“And with who?” Tuck asked, tipping back his cowboy hat. He too wore a beard, though he hadn’t yet hit thirty. His skin was a little weathered, but he held a tan well for a white guy. Something Lamont and Chris liked to tease him about.
“Nevaeh. Bryan came up with the idea so that we could spin the story in a better direction.”
“She’s the hairdresser?” Tuck asked. “I mean hair stylist.” He waved a hand. “Whatever y’all call them out there.”
His Kentucky accent almost threw Lamont for a loop. It certainly wasn’t an accent a person heard in LA, unless an actor was trying to land a role. “Yes, she works in film and at a salon, I believe, and goes to women’s homes.”
“Including your home,” Chris added.
“I pay her, but my mom is her client, not me.”
“So you’re going to tell the world she’s your girlfriend even though she’s not?” Chris asked. “How’s that fit with your brand or conscience?”
“That’s what has me chewing antacids. I hate the thought of lying just to save my reputation. Seems so self-serving.”
He wasn’t that guy. Am I? He’d always thought he did a good job remaining humble in the face of the blessings God rained on him. But maybe he’d been fooling himself. After all, he was contemplating a fake relationship to save himself. If that wasn’t self-serving . . .
“Why do you want to fake a relationship? Let’s get to the heart of the matter, then go from there,” Tuck said. He was always straightforward and ready to tell Lamont the hard things.
“I don’t want people to think all Christians are hypocrites. I want people to look at my life, look at what I’m willing to do for my faith, and truly seek God as a result. If they think I’m sleeping with my mother’s hair stylist, what is that going to do to God’s message?”
“What will lying to the world do to your soul?” Chris asked. “I get the point you’re trying to make. This is really blurring the lines though. Are you justifying lying to help God, and if so, you have to know that’s not how our faith works. If you’re justifying to save yourself, then be honest, and we’ll help you brainstorm alternate solutions.”
Lamont sighed, dropping his head for a moment. Why did they have to be so convicting? Isn’t that why you called them in the first place? Wise counsel and all that?
He leaned against the balcony railing, holding tightly to his cell. “Of course I want to save my own skin. I don’t want to lose supporters or the way of life I’ve built for me and my mom. I truly don’t want to muddy my witness for Christ either. Especially considering I really have been celibate all these years.”
How did one go about proving something like that? The world had seen him attend events with beautiful women on his arm, but he hadn’t been in a serious relationship since he turned his life back to God and walked in the way his mother had raised him in. Diva no longer had him in her clutches. She’d moved on to the next poor fool.
“Fellas, what do I do? I was so sure that Bryan’s plan was the way to go. Now I’m not.”
Tuck grimaced. “You’re in a hard spot. I can’t say what I’d do in your shoes. Life in Kentucky can be pretty quiet. Sure, we have the Derby and the publicity that surrounds that, but working with animals and being outside kinda distances you from the life of social media and the world wondering what your workout routine is.”
Lamont grinned. That reel still continued to get views. Last count had been over ten million. “People like to work out.”
Chris snorted. “No, people like to look good. If they think the Sexiest Man Alive has a secret to better their appearance, they’ll watch whatever video you put out.”
“Hey, don’t hate on me. You’ve got your own YouTube followers.” Lamont smirked at the embarrassed expression on Chris’s face.
“Conservation efforts require every gimmick—including YouTube videos.”
“You do look excited when you speak though,” Tuck added. “You never look like anyone forced you to do the videos.”
Chris shook his head. “We’re getting off track. This isn’t about my measly following. It’s about Lamont and what he represents.”
“A light in a dark place,” Tuck said.
“That’s what I want to be. A witness for Christ.” Lamont blew out a silent breath.
“What does your gut say?” Chris asked.
“It’s churning more acid than an acid factory.” He rubbed his stomach. Maybe it was time for some more antacids, or perhaps a ginger ale would help.
“Just talk it out for us.” Chris circled his hand in a speak-up motion.
“I keep thinking that if Nevaeh and I fake a relationship, the world would see I wasn’t preying on her or going against my word about being celibate. Though some people may question if one can abstain from intimacy when you’re in a relationship, if she’s willing to back me, then we can show the world it’s possible. Not only that, but she stipulated that we go out before we drop the news so that we’re not being entirely untruthful.”
“Sounds like you’re calling a lie a white lie, but it’s still a lie.” Chris frowned. “But maybe I’m being judgmental or in the role of devil’s advocate.”
“I wouldn’t have messaged you guys if I didn’t believe you had wisdom to share.”
“Ol’ man Chris has plenty to spare.” Tuck smirked. “But I’m actually on the fence for this one. If you tell the world this story, it could indeed help you. But if you don’t, what’s gonna happen? Will the internet trolls continue to trash your reputation enough you end up being canceled and never work again?” Tuck tipped his hat back to scratch his head. “My heart goes out to you, man. There’s no easy next step. Just whatever you do, be prepared for the consequences. That’s about all I have as far as wisdom goes.”
“I appreciate you guys. The producer has already made noise about the morality clause in my contract. Unfortunately some endorsers are also getting antsy. I woke up to see #cancelSMA trending on Twitter. I’m afraid of what will happen if I don’t do something to change the narrative.”
Chris nodded. “I can’t imagine being in that position. If you choose to go through with this, please know I’ll continue to pray for you. Just because I don’t approve, doesn’t mean I won’t still have your back.”
Chris’s remarks hit his heart like lead, but Lamont wanted the honesty. “’Preciate that.”
“Likewise,” Tuck said. “I’ll be praying too.”
“What does your mom say?” Chris asked.
Lamont’s mouth dried. “I didn’t ask her opinion.”
Tuck whistled, and Chris shook his head.
“Guess that’s the next person I should talk to?”
“And the last,” Chris said.
“Agreed. Find out what your mom thinks, then finish the convo with Nevaeh,” Tuck said. He peered over his shoulder, then turned back to the phone. “Gotta go.”
Chris seconded the sentiment, and Lamont placed his phone in his pocket after ending the call. A glance at his watch told him his mom was probably finishing up her yoga session with the instructor who came by twice a week. He headed downstairs to his in-home gym.
What would his mom think? And why couldn’t he shake the apprehension?
He opened the glass door and grinned. His mom sat cross-legged on the yoga mat, a peaceful smile on her face.
“You know it’s creepy to just watch a person, right?” She opened one eye in a squint.
“Says the woman who watched me sleeping hundreds of times over the years.”
“A mother’s prerogative.” She opened both eyes and raised a hand toward him. “Help me up, please.”
“Sure.” He pulled her up, thankful she didn’t feel as light as when she’d gone through chemo last year. “How was your session?”
“Fantastic as always. One day I need to follow yoga with a massage.”
“Let me know, and I’ll arrange it.”
She patted his cheek. “I know you would. You take great care of me. Sometimes I think you do too much.”
“You gave me life. I could never do enough to repay you.” It had been him and his mom forever.
“I didn’t do it to be paid.”
“I know, Mom.”
She eyed him. “Do you?”
“Not why I came down here.” He grinned.
“Why did you? Is everything okay? Something else about the photo?” Her brow furrowed with concern.
“Sort of.” He swallowed. “Bryan suggested that Nevaeh and I fake a relationship. I got Chris and Tuck’s opinion on it all, and now I’m asking for yours.”
Her perfectly arched eyebrows raised. “Fake how?”
“Tell the world we’ve been dating but abstaining from the sexual side of a relationship until we get to the altar.” He shrugged. “Something to that effect. I’m sure Bryan’s statement will be more eloquent if we both agree to it.”
“So Nevaeh is considering this?” She studied him.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Hmm.” She placed her hands on her hips, a faraway look coasting into her brown eyes.
Lamont studied his mother. She was petite, about the same height as Nevaeh, and had a skin tone that reminded him of some pottery they owned. But other than the color of her skin and the shape of her ears and nose, Lamont couldn’t see much similarity between his mom’s looks and his own. His forehead was broader, his mouth fuller and wider, his eyes darker. Family always said he was the spitting image of his dad, but perhaps because he died so young, people wanted to immortalize Robert Booker in Lamont’s features.
He blinked, focusing back on the issue at hand. “Mom?”
She turned to face him, a serious expression on her face. “I think you should do it.”
“Really?” Not at all what he’d thought she’d say. “Why?”
“Do you know how rare it is for someone in Hollywood to share your same beliefs? Values? Morals, even?”
“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“Then you can understand how important it is for you to be a role model to those watching.”
He rocked back on his heels. “Yeah, but lying to go about it? I don’t know. It seems selfish, not to mention asking a lot of Nevaeh.”
“It may be all of that. After all, we’re viewing this from our lens, our perspective. But maybe some good can come from this.”
“Like what?” he asked skeptically.
A soft smile curved her lips. “I have a few ideas.”
Chill bumps broke across his arms. “I don’t like that look. Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”
Mom grabbed his face, pulling him down to stare right into his eyes. “Trust your mom, but only do what Nevaeh agrees to and continue to espouse your beliefs. You hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” She patted his cheek. “I’m off to have a girls’ day with Claire. Let me know how your meeting with Nevaeh goes.”
“Have a good time.”
“Thanks, baby. I’ll be praying.”
Wasn’t everyone? He sighed. Now to pray that he and Nevaeh could agree on the terms of their arrangement.
Seven
I had full armor on. Yes, the spiritual armor, but more specifically, my glamour armor—full makeup, maxi dress, painted nails, and accessories. If I was going to pose as the superstar’s girlfriend, then I needed to step up my fashion game. Usually, I went for comfort, hence the maxi dress, but if Lamont Booker accepted my proposal, then the newly added shapewear would become a lasting staple in my wardrobe.
Not that I had a problem with my shape, but Hollywood and all the keyboard crusaders who followed our story sure would. I’d already seen the comments. Speaking of which, I turned off the radio talk show that was currently speculating on my identity. Couldn’t some other actor put their foot in their mouth and take the spotlight off us? Then again, there was nothing entertainment news liked to do more than exhaust a subject until people willingly went out to create the next breaking news.
I knocked on the door leading from the garage to the house, thankful Kyle had directed me to park right inside the garage in case reporters were staking out the property. I’d assumed the rest of the vultures would be perched in the trees like the first one. Then again, maybe they weren’t pack animals.
Kyle led me into the home, and I made my way through the main floor and found Lamont standing in the living room, gazing out the windows. Was he fixated on the LA skyline, or were his thoughts tossing at the possibilities before us? Not that I could fault him the skyline viewing. The skyscrapers rising in the distance made a pretty picture.
I cleared my throat, and he swung around.
“Oh, good, you’re here.”
“Yep.” My lips smacked as more words tried to form. Anxiety had ratcheted up to DEFCON levels, and I could literally feel my body shaking.
“Have a seat.”
I nodded. Lord, please help.
“Have you come to a decision?” he asked softly.
