Page 45 of A Star is Scorned
Livvy giggled and handed over her sweater. “They’re mine too.” They tittered together. “I hope my movie won’t disappoint.”
“Based on what Flynn’s said, I’m sure you won’t.” Livvy wanted to ask what Arlene meant by that. She’d saidyou, notit. Had it been a slip of the tongue? Or was Arlene hinting at something? How much had Flynn been talking about her with his friends? It was a terrifying and thrilling thought.
“Um, has he told you—”
“That he’s in love with you?”
Livvy froze in her tracks. So Flynn hadn’t told his friends about the PR relationship. He’d kept them in the dark and protected the ruse. But saying he was in love with her? That seemed to be laying it on a bit thick. Arlene carried on, not noticing that she had rendered Livvy mute.
“Of course he didn’t tell us that. But it’s obvious to those of us who know him well. Enjoy the party!”
Arlene turned and hung Livvy’s sweater in the foyer closet, clearly signaling that this conversation was over.
Livvy slipped into the living room, feeling like she’d bumped her head on something on the way in.Flynn was in love with her?Or at least his friends seemed to think so.That couldn’t possibly mean that the man had real feelings for her. The idea was preposterous. Perhaps he was justreallyconvincing whenever he talked about her.
Not looking where she was going, she accidentally bumped into someone’s back. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she started, only to nearly swallow her tongue when Joan Davis turned around to face her.
“Oh, you must be Livvy!” Joan grabbed Livvy’s shoulders and held her at arm’s length, taking her in. “Oh my goodness, are you Peter Pan?”
Livvy nodded, unable to find her voice as she let the scene around her filter into her brain. Dash Howard stood behind Joan; they had been dancing until Livvy collided with them.
“Dash, go get Flynn. This is too good.” As Dash stalked off, Joan returned her attention to Livvy. “Wait till you see him, darling. Did you plan this together?”
“Uh, no.” Livvy hadn’t the scarcest idea what Joan was talking about.
She let herself take in the rest of the room. A live band was in the corner, playing a rollicking rendition of the Charleston. She did a double take. Was that Benny Goodman on clarinet? Flynn hadn’t been joking when he’d told her his Halloween party was the event of the season. Everyone who was anyone in Hollywood was packed into this room, drinking a ghastly looking green beverage out of punch glasses, smoking, and having a hell of a great time. It was shockingly normal. Except that you could spit in any direction and hit someone more famous than God.
“Pan!” bellowed a British voice that made Livvy feel like she’d swallowed an entire bottle of pixie dust, a shimmery, fizzy sensation suffusing her whole body. She looked down to make sure her feet were still on the ground.
The owner of the voice rounded the corner from the kitchen, and in the place of Flynn Banks was Captain Hook in all his mustache-twirling glory.
Flynn was sporting a massive curly dark wig, on top of which was perched an ostentatious hat with a large black feather protruding from the brim and curling down into Flynn’s face. Above his full lips, he had painted a false mustache. The only way she recognized him was by the unmistakable twinkle in his blue eyes and the mischievous smirk in the corner of his mouth. And the live capuchin monkey perched on his shoulder, whose eyes lit up at the sight of her.
The monkey leapt to the floor and sprinted to her, climbing her leg until she made a perch for him with her forearm. “Hello, Rallo, I didn’t expect to see you here.”
The monkey grinned, and she giggled at the awful sight of his bared teeth as he climbed her arm and planted a kiss on her cheek.
“Don’t you steal my girl,” Flynn called out. It made Livvy laugh, and she patted Rallo on the head. She was overcome by the sensation of bubbles floating through her chest.
It was ridiculous, really. She’d been so frightened of coming tonight. Doubtful that she could control whatever she felt for Flynn. Uneasy about the party guests’ wilder side. Or worse, that Flynn’s friends and Hollywood acquaintances would find her lacking in some way. Or that they’d immediately see through their charade, and the jig would be up. Arlene Morgan seemed absolutely convinced Flynn was head over heels for her—a thoughtperhaps even more terrifying than the notion of being found out. But all her anxieties vanished at the sight of a little monkey.
Flynn ran to her and swept her up into a hug, twirling her in a circle. Livvy had the stray thought that this must be what flying felt like. Rallo gnashed his teeth and leapt down, scurrying out of the room.
“Oh, this is marvelous!” crowed Flynn. “Brilliant! Who told you?”
“Who told me what?” He set her down and kept his hands on her waist.
“That I was going as Captain Hook tonight. Your costume is too, too perfect.”
“No one told me anything. Judy suggested that I be Peter Pan, and Connie in the wardrobe department offered to help with my costume.”
“So it’s a coincidence?” Flynn marveled. “Splendid!”
A kaleidoscope of butterflies took flight in Livvy’s chest as Flynn continued to hold on to her, clearly delighted by their accidentally coordinated costumes.
“Clearly a sign that we’re meant to be,” she joked, her voice warbling a bit with nerves. All those around them laughed, including Flynn. Livvy heard someone mutter something about Flynn being “a changed man” behind her and silently patted herself on the back.
Then Flynn assumed a fighting stance, brandishing his hook as if it were a rapier. “En garde, Pan!”
