Page 30 of A Star is Scorned
“Oh no, it’s not. What’s ridiculous is this effort to keep pretending you haven’t seen my movies.”
“Fine!” she shrieked, surprised by the intensity in her own voice. “Fine.” She cleared her throat, braced her hands on the opposite side of the table, and leaned toward him until their noses nearly touched. “What do you want me to say? That I’ve seen all of your films multiple times? That I watchedThe Pirate’s Follysix times in a single weekend? That I haven’t missed a Flynn Banks picture in years and could probably recite some of them from memory?”
He blinked at her. Whatever he was expecting her to say, it wasn’t that. He began to roar with laughter, lifting his hands from the table and clutching at his belly. He fell back against the kitchen counter and laughed until tears began to leak from his eyes.
“What exactly is so funny about that?”
“Y-y-you—” He struggled to catch his breath, still laughing. “Here, I was thinking less of myself because some beautiful dame hadn’t seen my pictures, thought them beneath her—and you’re practically the president of the Flynn Banks fan club.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and puckered her lips. “I am not.”
“Ha, ha, ha. Yes, yes you are. It’s absurd, really.”
Livvy tried to process the fact that she’d revealed her mosthumiliating secret, thus eliminating any chance she had at keeping the upper hand with him. Not to mention that he seemed to care about her opinion. And he’d called her beautiful.
Her mind reeled. But as she tried to puzzle through it all, he finally recovered.
“Finished now?” she asked, her voice dripping with disdain.
He actually checked himself, feeling his chest and his face before responding. “I think so. But what I can’t understand is why? Why would you lie about such a thing? Most of the country has seen a Flynn Banks picture.”
For the first time in tonight’s long list of ignominious moments, she blushed. She looked at the deck and toed a coiled piece of rope with her shoe. “Because I didn’t want you to think I was some simpering schoolgirl. I wanted to be your costar, your equal. I thought if you believed I was an intellectual, you’d be intimidated. You have girls throwing themselves at you every day. The last thing you needed was another one. I wanted you to respect me, instead of seeing me like every other girl.”
He barked out another laugh. “I assure you, I have never and will never think of you the same way I do any other girl.”
She didn’t know if he was teasing her or praising her, but the words made her insides ignite, curls of flame licking at the sides of her belly.
He worried his lip underneath his two front teeth, then looked up and nodded. “Well, I suppose that leaves only one more question.”
“And what is that?” She braced for something provocative and lewd. Something befitting his reputation as Hollywood’s number one rascal.
“Olivia Blount. Liv de Lesseps. You have a lot of names for such a slip of a woman. What should I call you?”
The sudden unexpected question caught her off guard, and she smiled. “My friends call me Livvy.”
The corner of his lips tugged up into a crooked, close-mouthed smile that made her involuntarily take a step toward him. “And am I?” She stumbled on the coil of rope as he asked his question. He caught her by the elbow. “Your friend?”
She looked up and met his infernally blue eyes, sensing mischief and want and something unknowable twinkling there. She gave him one of his own infuriatingly confusing winks. “For now.”
Chapter 11
“Bugger. Shit. Damn it all to hell,” Flynn muttered through his teeth. He’d barely stepped one foot into the Blossom Room at the Roosevelt Hotel when Rhonda Powers swanned in his direction, making a show designed to grab everyone in the room’s attention.
Only a week had passed since he’d won the Catalina Regatta with Livvy. Harry had nearly busted his buttons at the photograph of Flynn holding Livvy while she kissed him on the cheek. The studio boss had left a stack of the pictures in Flynn’s dressing room with a note that said, “Nice work.” But Harry was insistent that their dates weren’t public enough. If this PR stunt was going to work, the pair needed to see and be seen.
In less than twenty-four hours, Harry’s office had begun planning excursions for the two of them. So far this week, Flynn and Livvy had gone for a paddle in the swan boats at Echo Park, been photographed at the deli counter at Canter’s, and staged several photo shoots on the lot in their costumes and rehearsal clothes. All wholesome grist for the gossip mill.
Tonight was Harry’s biggest effort yet. He’d arranged for Flynn and Livvy to sit at the head table for some big Hollywood fundraiser. It was the first opportunity for them to be photographed as a couple in formal wear, and the first time they’d be seen dancing together. In short, it was the last place he needed tobump into Rhonda Powers. But she was only a few feet away now, and he couldn’t exactly turn tail and run.
“Flynn,” Rhonda drawled. “Darling.”
He darted his eyes from side to side, searching desperately for an escape, but Rhonda draped her arms around him, drawing him in for embrace.
“Laying it on a little thick, aren’t we?” he hissed in her ear.
“You catch more flies with sugar than with vinegar. Smile for the cameras.” Rhonda pressed her cheek to his, and he blinked fiercely as a flashbulb went off right in front of his face. Shit. A cozy photograph with the woman the papers thought he’d jilted was a headache he did not want to deal with. But if he wasn’t careful, Rhonda would make a scene and that would be worse.
Flynn reached for Rhonda’s arms, attempting to extricate himself from her embrace. “You’ve had nothing but piss and vinegar for me for the last month.” He was still looking for an exit route, or at least the nearest bar, when he caught Harry’s eye in the corner.
