Page 55 of In Love with Lewis Prescott
Ooohhh this doesn’t look like LA! Where are you?? Your adoring fans are dying to know!
“Hopefully they’ll be just as excited when I post about the calendar in a few days,” Lewis says.
“Have you read any of those comments? Their heads will explode when you announce the calendar. You’re gonna break the internet.”
He bursts out laughing, then reaches for his laptop. “Wanna see what I threw together?”
“Um, hell yes.”
He shows me the layout of the photos he worked on while I was dress shopping with Naomi.
I gawk, my mouth open as I look over the spread. “This is...wow. People are going to lose their minds.”
“And hey, I promise I’ll put in extra hours tomorrow to make up for the hours I missed working on the house today when I was putting the calendar together—”
I pull away and look at him. “You don’t need to do that. You’re not on the clock. You can take time to do whatever you want, Lewis.”
A small smile pulls at his lips. “I just don’t want you to think that I’m going to let the remodel fall by the wayside.”
“I know you won’t. Because I’ll ruin you if you do.”
He chuckles, then leans down to press a kiss to my lips.
“What’s on the docket for tomorrow?” I ask.
“Painting the dining room walls. The paint delivery for the bedrooms arrived this morning while you were gone. Cans are in the garage.”
“Yay.”
“Excited to get dirty?”
With his arms wrapped around my waist, he pulls me tight against him right as he wags an eyebrow. For a second, I don’t know if he’s talking about the impending paint job or the fact that we’re seconds away from pouncing on each other.
“I’m always down to get dirty with you,” I say against his lips.
He makes a soft groaning noise. “Good. But first I gotta call my agent back. He’s been blowing up my phone all day.”
I tell him of course and make a beeline for the fridge while he walks toward the living room and dials.
“Hey, Trent. I saw you called. What’s up?”
“What the hell are you doing, Lewis?”
“Excuse me?”
“That photo. On Instagram. What the fuck made you think that was okay to post?”
I whip around to Lewis as Trent’s surround-sound voice booms through his phone.
“Maybe because it’s my own social media account and I can do whatever the fuck I want with it.”
A bitter laugh echoes from his phone.
“Oh, I get it. You think you know better than me, is that it? Well, my man, last time I checked, I was the one who plucked you out of obscurity. You were doing commercials and bit parts on D-list movies before I discovered you.Iwas the one who got you those big-time roles.Iwas the one who got you your very first superstar role onThe Best of It—the role that you fucked up, remember?”
I ball my fists as I listen to Trent berate Lewis. God, this guy. He’s every negative show business stereotype I can think of: rude, obscene, and callous.
“I told you to stay out of the public eye. Pulling shallow shit like this is going to ruin your comeback.”
