Hollywood Days with Hayes Read online

  Just looking at his serious expression, his lean body tucked into a chair, made Violet’s cheeks flush. Wow! Was it going to be like this all the time? Now that she’d pinned down her feelings, would her heart hammer in her chest every time she saw him? Quietly, she backed away.

  She was in such a state, and she hadn’t even spoken to him yet. How could she ask about Coco? How could she explain about the fanfic? She knew she had to now, more than ever. But it was all too much. She had no idea where to start.

  Just then Violet’s phone buzzed with a text from Hayes: Leaving editing. Let’s meet in my trailer to go over my schedule ASAP. And you have to help me prep. That big emotional scene is tomorrow!

  Violet stared at the screen. He had no idea she was right down the hall. And she wanted to keep it that way until she got her act together. She had a new goal: to know where Hayes was every second of the day. So she could avoid him.

  “Okay, see you later,” she heard him say to the film editor.

  Starting right now!

  Violet hurried into the first empty office she saw. She hid behind the open door, pressing against the wall until he passed.

  Only then did she text back: Busy now! She closed the screen, leaving it at that.

  Suddenly, footsteps sounded closer. Someone was coming! The door swung closed, leaving her in full view.

  The man jumped back, startled. “Who are you?”

  “N-n-n-nobody,” Violet stuttered. “Just an intern. I may be lost. This isn’t T. J. Meyers’s office?”

  “No,” the man said, “it’s mine. I think he’s in the next building over.”

  “Thanks so much!” Violet said, rushing away.

  She spent the rest of the morning pretending to be absorbed in paperwork, taking notes on production changes and offering her services to everyone except Hayes.

  She was just picking up dry cleaning for Marion Lewis, the actress who was playing Hayes’s mom, when TJ stopped her.

  “There you are!” he said, annoyed. “Hayes has been looking for you all morning. Haven’t you gotten his texts?”

  Violet shook her head, crossing her fingers behind her back. She’d put her phone on silent and hadn’t so much as peeked at her messages. “I must be out of power.”

  She was piling on the lies now. She didn’t like it. It made her feel awful, like she wasn’t the person she thought she was. It had to stop, and it would—as soon as she figured out how to talk to Hayes.

  “The final scene shoots tomorrow,” TJ was telling her. “He needs you to help him. You know he’s having trouble with the emotional end of it.”

  “I do know, but isn’t there somewhere else I’m needed more? Maybe another actor should go over the lines with Hayes, someone who can give more guidance.”

  “You’re his assistant,” TJ said testily. “He wants you. Now.”

  “A coffee run?” Violet continued as if she hadn’t heard. “Lunch orders? Dry cleaning pickup?”

  TJ rolled his eyes and walked away, not saying a word.

  * * *

  In Hayes’s trailer, Violet perched awkwardly on the edge of a chair. The seat was by the door, as far from Hayes and the couch as she could get.

  Hayes looked at her, puzzled. “You seem like you’re ready to run away.”

  “Ha!” Violet barked out a laugh. “I’m just gearing up for the scene.”

  “Okay. I’m a little tense, too.” Hayes ran his fingers through his hair nervously. “This scene is really hard for me.”

  Violet’s heart went out to him. She wanted to help him. But it was just so difficult being here with him, not saying anything and feeling so awkward. He was right; she really did want to run out the door. She had forced herself to come, knowing if she hadn’t TJ would find out, and once again her job would be on the line. One of these days, he’d ask about the new script she was writing. The script she hadn’t started. She didn’t want him annoyed at her already for messing up with Hayes.

  “Okay, let’s go through the beginning lines, when Coco—I mean Devon—thinks she’s still running away with you.”

  Hayes flipped through pages of the script, stopping near the end. “I’ll start with just a read. Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  “You don’t sound ready.”

  “Just go ahead,” Violet managed to say.

  “Are you cold, Devon?” Hayes read out loud.

  “A little. I packed in such a hurry, I didn’t bring a jacket.”

  “Here, take mine…”

  They went through the lines. “Now I’ll do it for real.” Hayes stood up. “This is the hard part now.”

  “What?” Violet looked up at him blankly. “What are we doing again?”

  “V!” Hayes strode over to her chair. “You’re so out of it! What’s wrong?”

  This should have been her cue, her time to blurt out the whole fan-fiction story. Talk about her feelings and ask about that kiss with Coco. Somehow, though, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  She tried to tell herself she was thinking of Hayes, that it wasn’t fair to burden him with all this while he was working on the scene. And that was part of it. But mostly—she had to admit—she was chicken. She wanted her confession to be letter perfect. If she spoke now, she’d burst into tears and wouldn’t be able to talk, let alone speak coherently. Right now, she just couldn’t deal. And she had time. She wasn’t going to get back to Lydia and reveal her identity until this whole thing was straightened out with Hayes.

  Hayes tossed the script on the coffee table. “This isn’t doing either of us any good. We need to clear our minds. We need a change of scenery.”

  “We do?” Violet said weakly.

  “Definitely.” He pulled her to her feet. “I know exactly what will cheer you up.”

  “You do?” Violet didn’t actually doubt that Hayes did know; knew exactly, in fact, what would make her laugh and what would make her cry.

  “I’m going to get you out of here, and show you something amazing. It’s a special place.” Hayes grinned widely and his shoulders relaxed. “I won’t tell you now, but it’s really close to my heart.”

  He opened the door and gave a goofy little bow. “After you!”

  Violet paused, torn in two directions. She felt her body move toward him willingly, happily, of its own accord. She wanted to go, of course she did! They’d be together, away from the studio and its pressures, just the two of them. But would it be like before, when they went shopping? Before Coco? So much had happened since, and the feelings overwhelmed her.

  Her phone buzzed, and she looked at the message from TJ: Are you with our boy? Please confirm.

  That decided it. She had to go. Yes, she texted. For the rest of the day.

  * * *

  “So this is your special place!” Violet stood outside the door to Dogtown Dog Shelter, her hands on her hips. Really, she should have guessed. Their driver said something about “Zan” and “the usual” and knew exactly where to go. Like every Hayes Grier fan, Violet knew Hayes had adopted Zan from an animal shelter.

  As soon as they walked inside, a tall woman hurried over. Her name tag read ANNIE TRENT, DIRECTOR. “Hayes!” she exclaimed. “This is a surprise. You’re not scheduled to come in until tomorrow.”

  “I know, but my friend Violet and I needed to see some friendly faces.”

  Annie laughed. “You mean mine or the dogs’?”

  “Both!”

  “Welcome, Violet.” Annie extended her hand to shake. “Any friend of Hayes’s is a friend to the shelter.”

  The word friend repeated again and again and again caused Violet’s throat to tighten. Was any other relationship just hopeless?

  “Hello,” she said, trying to smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “You know the drill, Hayes,” Annie went on. “Violet needs to fill out some forms, and then you’re good to go. And remember, don’t bother signing in. We don’t want word to get out you volunteer here every week!”

  A
s Violet penciled in her information, she peered at Hayes sitting next to her on a couch. “So you come here every week?”

  Hayes shrugged. “As often as I can. Sometimes it’s tough to get away. But I try my best. This place keeps me grounded. It reminds me what’s important.”

  Violet gazed across the lobby, watching a little boy leave with his dad, an adorable black puppy yapping at his heels.

  “That’s so cute,” she said. “It’s great that that puppy is getting a home.”

  “That little guy reminds me of Zan.” Hayes snapped a photo on his phone. He blushed a bit. “I like to show Zan pictures when I get back.”

  A young girl and her mom walked in the door next and went to talk to Annie about adopting an older dog. The girl, about twelve, Violet guessed, kept glancing at Hayes. Hayes noticed, gave her a smile, but shifted so his back was to her. Then he put on a baseball cap, turning down the brim.

  “I hope she doesn’t recognize me. I’m trying to keep this volunteering gig quiet. No Vine, Snapchat, or Instagram.”

  Violet thought about the publicist and how thrilled she would be to discover all these photo ops. “I get it,” she said. “You want your privacy.”

  “It’s more than that,” Hayes told her. “I mean, I love my fans, and I want to connect with them. But if they knew I worked here, they might sign up too in the hopes of meeting me. And that’s just plain wrong. They should come to help the dogs. If they’re donating their time, it should be for the right reasons.”

  “Oh.” Violet felt a lump form in her throat. Hayes was really so kind and generous. She was struck once again by how much he cared. Did he care about her in that same general way? Was he trying to cheer her up, because that’s just the kind of guy he was, and he would do the same for anybody? Or did it mean something more?

  And if Coco was feeling down, would she be here in Violet’s place?

  Violet signed the last form and stood. “Let’s get going,” she told Hayes, leaving the papers on the front desk. Hayes pushed open a side door, and they entered a cavernous space. Little rooms lined the sides, a half-door gate in front of each. Dogs jumped up and down in each one, yipping and yapping at the sight of Hayes and Violet.

  Violet covered her ears and looked beseechingly at Hayes. The dogs were cute—all sizes and colors—but the noise was almost overwhelming.

  “They’ll settle down,” Hayes promised. “Just give them a minute. In the meantime, let’s put on gloves and grab some equipment.”

  “Gloves? Equipment? What does that mean exactly?”

  “It means we’ll be doing some cleaning, V.” Hayes laughed as she wrinkled her nose, peering at the dog droppings spread out on the kennel floors. “It’s all part of the job. If we have time, we can bring the dogs outside in the run. But this comes first.”

  They went to a big, walk-in closet to get ready. By the time they came back out—pooper-scoopers in gloved hands—the dogs had indeed quieted down.

  “Do we get to work together?” Violet asked. Somehow, the idea of picking up poop didn’t seem so terrible if she could do it with Hayes.

  “Well, I usually work alone…” Hayes grinned at her and gave her a playful push. “But I’ll make an exception just this once.”

  He reached inside one gate and held the dog back while they slipped inside. “This is Arnold,” he said, scratching the giant dog behind his ears. “I think he’s a mix of German shepherd and retriever. But I’m just guessing.”

  Arnold, thumping his tail, looked at Violet. She patted him on the head, just as Hayes reached to do the same. Their fingers brushed. An electric shock ran through Violet’s body. She and Hayes looked at each other over Arnold’s head, and the moment seemed frozen in time.

  Hayes cleared his throat. “Let’s take care of this, then we’ll come back with a hose to wash down the floor.”

  “Is Arnold really the only dog in this room?” Violet leaned over to pick up one of the droppings.

  “Yes, but he’s got a big appetite.”

  While they worked, Arnold raced around them like an excited puppy, and Violet forgave him for his messes. Then Hayes ushered Arnold through a door at the back of the room into an enclosed outdoor space.

  Hayes closed the door behind him and told Violet, “Now we get the hoses.”

  As they dragged the hoses into the room, Violet gazed at the back of Hayes’s head with mixed feelings.

  There’d been long moments when she’d forgotten about Coco and just enjoyed being with Hayes. But then she’d come to her senses with a jolt, realizing she couldn’t ignore the kiss. In fact, her emotions were coming to a boil. She couldn’t hold back her questions any longer.

  Hayes lifted the doggy bed, water bowl, and food dish onto a shelf, and they switched on the hoses. They each doused a corner. Her back to Hayes, Violet blurted, “I saw you kissing Coco!”

  “What?” Hayes spun toward Violet, and the stream of water drenched her shoes. Surprised, she jumped back, and her hose struck Hayes full in the chest. They both dropped the hoses as if they were hot potatoes. The hoses writhed on the floor like slithering snakes, spraying every which way.

  “Turn them off!” Hayes shouted.

  They ran after the hoses, bumping into each other, slipping in puddles. A second later, they both went down. They fell on top of each other, giggling and laughing, getting wetter and wetter until they could reach the nozzles to shut down the streams.

  Violet’s giggles trailed off. Hayes sighed. They lay on the cool wet floor, side by side, catching their breath and staring up at the ceiling.

  “That was really something,” Hayes finally said.

  “I know. I feel like I’ve been through a wash cycle.”

  “No, I mean about what you said. About me kissing Coco.”

  “Oh.” Violet turned her head, the same time Hayes did. Their noses were an inch apart. She gazed down at Hayes’s T-shirt, stuck to his skin. She could see every muscle, each ab outlined as if he were a Greek god, sculpted as a statue. She caught her breath.

  Hoping her shirt wasn’t quite as revealing, she tugged a bit at the bottom.

  “You actually saw us kissing?”

  “No,” Violet admitted. “Mia showed me a picture from some website.”

  Hayes inched closer so their noses touched. “So that’s what’s bothering you?”

  Violet nodded, and their noses rubbed. Her stomach dipped.

  “Nothing is going on between Coco and me,” Hayes said in a whisper. “It wasn’t even a real kiss. We posed for a photographer that way on purpose. Coco is in love with some other guy. She wanted to make him jealous, so she asked me to kiss her in front of the camera. And you know me,” Hayes half-joked. “I can never turn down a friend.”

  “Do I know you?” Violet murmured.

  “You should know I’d never do anything to hurt you. I’m so sorry, V. But our whole relationship is confusing. I didn’t think you cared, after we had that thing at the Hollywood Sign. That’s why I didn’t mention the paparazzi photo. I didn’t think you felt the same way about me as I do about you.”

  “I do,” she whispered, so softly she wasn’t sure she’d spoken aloud.

  She must have, though, for slowly, slowly, Hayes drew Violet closer, so their bodies touched head to toe. At the same instant, they closed their eyes.

  This is it, Violet thought. Our first kiss.

  Suddenly the back door swung open and Arnold rushed in, jumping between the two, barking furiously.

  Violet and Hayes laughed uncontrollably. “We’ll get back to that later,” Hayes told her. He eyed the room, water still funneling down the sloping ground into a drain. “But let’s finish up here and see if we can find some dry clothes to borrow.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  VIOLET LET HERSELF INTO THE VENICE HOUSE, feeling like she was walking on air. What a difference a few hours can make, she thought, smiling. She didn’t want to use the word love—it was way too early for that. But this feeling that swept her f
rom head to toe must be pretty darn close. She heard the sound of rattling dishes coming from the kitchen.

  “Mia?” she called. “Is that you?”

  “Live and in person,” Mia called. “Come talk to me.”

  Violet walked in, and Mia, standing by the sink, did a double take. “What on earth are you wearing?” she asked.

  Violet grinned. “What, you didn’t see this very same outfit on the cover of Vogue?” She twirled around, as if showing off her clothes—men’s sweatpants about three sizes too big, paired with a plaid flannel shirt that hung to her knees. She held up a plastic bag. “My real clothes are in here. They’re a little wet.”

  Mia took one final sip from a glass of green juice and said, “Sit down and tell me everything.”

  “First, you tell me how you could drink that.” Even Violet, lover of strange concoctions, shied away from green juice.

  Mia shrugged. “It’s kale! It’s good for you. And before you leave this summer, I’ll get you to drink it, too.”

  Violet giggled, highly doubting that would happen. Mia and Uncle Forrest’s home could be a weird place, but that was one of the reasons she loved visiting.

  Mia pulled out a seat for Violet, sat across the table, and looked at her expectantly. “I’m waiting,” she reminded her cousin.

  “Right.” In a tumble of words, Violet told the whole story—about feeling awkward and upset around Hayes and not being able to do her job, and him picking up on her feelings and taking her to the shelter to cheer her up, right up to their almost-kiss.

  Mia oohed and aahed and listened intently to every word. At the end, she hugged her cousin, happy for the turn of events. “But,” she said, “you still have to face up to your fanfic.”

  She reached for her nearby laptop and opened it to the website, scrolling to the comments section. “I just checked this and read Lydia’s message. You still haven’t gotten back to her, have you?”

  Violet shook her head.

  Mia leaped to her feet, impatient for something to happen. “This could be your big break, and you’re letting it slip through your fingers. How long do you think an agent as big as Lydia Jacobs is going to wait? She’s probably reading through dozens of other fanfic stories right now, thinking you’re a lost cause. She’ll latch onto some other unknown writer and make him or her famous!”