Love Unscripted

Page 138

“Now I know you’re full of shit!”

I smiled back at him. “She told me she could keep a secret and I told her so could I,” I corrected. “And how was your day, Honey?”

“I killed Susanne several times today. I thought after I stabbed her mentally with a big knife that she’d die, but that bitch kept on getting back up!

So I got the pick axe and slammed it into her forehead, you know, right here?” He pointed. “But she wouldn’t stay down!”

“Babe, did you not learn anything from me? Did you try the poison?”

“Poison?” he scoffed. “Takes too long and I wasn’t in the mood to wait. I put real silver bullets in my gun. She took twelve in the chest.” He shoved the last bite of his taco into his mouth.

“And? Did that do it finally?”

“I wish! I don’t believe there is any way to kill the anti-Christ,” he laughed.

After we were finished eating, he helped me clean up the kitchen and put food away. I was glad that he didn’t expect me to be his servant or housekeeper. He took a few extra minutes to inspect the inside of the refrigerator, checking out all the items I gathered at the store.

“Look in the pantry, too. I hope I got the right chocolate chip cookies. You weren’t specific.”

“Ah, look at this!” he said excitedly. “Just like home!” Ryan ripped open the cookie bag, shoving one in his mouth and palming one for later. “Did you have enough money?”

“Your contribution was about half,” I muttered. I started washing the dishes.

“Liar!” he breathed in my ear. Ryan turned the sink water on for me so I could rinse a plate.

I smiled. He was right, I was fibbing. I spent almost four hundred today getting all this stuff.

“Maybe we can bang out the finer details later? Come to some mutual agreement?” I wondered aloud.

“You want to negotiate the terms of our contract?”

“Contract?” I questioned. “I didn’t realize I was under contract.”

“Well of course you are. I’ve already signed on the dotted line back here.” He brushed my rear with his long fingers. “I’m locked in. It’s an ironclad contract, by the way.”

“Question? Is there a no competition clause written in this contract?”

“Absolutely! There is no competition either. None.” He took the wet plate from my hand to dry it.

“I’m not sure. There was quite a line forming today. All of them so willing to negotiate.”

Ryan’s eyes narrowed on me. “Honey, in all seriousness, tell me. Did that, what happened tonight, bother you? Tell me the truth!”

“No,” I answered immediately. “The fan appreciation didn’t bother me at all. What bothered me was some of the comments that were made. I mean I think it’s public knowledge why you’re holding court in my pub and why they all knew they could find you here. But when these girls are sitting on the other side of my bar, talking about wanting to have sex with you right in front of me, it’s a little aggravating. It’s sort of like a slap in the face,” I admitted. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I understand. I’d feel the same way if a bunch of guys were talking about you that way. But since Seaside, I’ve come to realize that this world is full of cruel, ruthless people – all ready to knock you down the minute you show the slightest bit of weakness.”

Ryan rubbed my arms. “I at least have a few years under my belt dealing with it. I know it’s all new to you and it’s going to affect you in many ways, just like it’s affected me. We need to be strong together. It’s you and me against the world, Honey.”

“That sounds like it’s from a movie!” I joked.

“Probably. But it doesn’t mean we can’t use the same line in our story.” He softly kissed my lips.

“Are you going back to work?” He started digging in his bag when he asked.

“Yeah. I told Marie I was going to have dinner with you and that I’d be back. What’s that?” He had a few blue colored papers in his hand.

“It’s tomorrow’s call sheet. It’s like an agenda. What scenes we’re going to shoot, times, my lines… all of that fun stuff. I was going to go…” he motioned over his shoulder, “read.” He smiled impishly.

“Do you want your love letters too?” I teased, knowing where he was headed.

“Don’t you have a pub to run?” he groaned. His phone started to play some really cool music again. I could make out the words ‘home, home.’

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