Hollywood Days with Hayes Read online

  “I do work here, you know,” Violet told Derek. She couldn’t help but be a little snippy. Lack of sleep will do that to you.

  “Well, the stunt guy should have been here an hour ago. We’re trying to track him down or find a replacement.”

  That was bad news. Any delay would cost a lot of money. But it seemed half the crew was already working on that. And Violet knew what—or whom—she should focus on. Hayes. She had to make sure he was all right. That was her job.

  She searched the lot, then tried his trailer, then hurried back to the freeway scene. Finally, she spied him, trying to calm TJ down and offering suggestions about the stunt—none of which seemed to be well received.

  “Really, TJ,” Hayes was saying. He sounded nervous, unsure of himself, but determined to speak his mind. “I think you should get a couple more trucks, and park them in front of that one. When the stunt guy gets here, he’ll tell you the same thing. It’s much safer for him to ride on top of the trucks and take off over the cars than just come out of that truck and jump them. Or maybe make the trailer longer. Yeah, extend the trailer, or open it up on the other end so the guy can ride into the truck, then go. That could do it, too.”

  TJ took another breath into the bag. “Listen, Hayes, I know you’re trying to help. But right now we have to find a stuntman. Period.”

  Hayes held up his hands. “Okay, I get it. I’m here if you need me, though.” He walked toward the craft service table, and Violet followed.

  “Hayes!” she said. “How are you doing? Are you okay? I mean, with the shoot,” she added hurriedly. She didn’t want him to think she was talking about the nonkiss last night—not when there was so much going on right now.

  “I just wish this whole thing was straightened out,” Hayes told her, “so we can start shooting. If we wait too much longer, we’ll lose an entire day.”

  “Maybe you don’t have to wait,” Violet said slowly, an idea hitting her with such force, she actually shouted. “You can do the stunt.”

  “Me?” Hayes looked at her like she was speaking a foreign language. “You know that can’t happen, V.”

  When she heard the nickname, Violet’s heart leaped. Maybe things were going to be fine between them.

  “TJ said I couldn’t do any motorcycle stunts. And you,” he said, grinning, “are supposed to make sure of it.”

  Violet shook her head. “Not anymore, I’m not. I’ve seen you riding the bike. You have amazing control. And if TJ takes your suggestion, it will be that much safer, right?”

  “Right,” Hayes said uncertainly.

  “Besides,” Violet went on. She gazed deep into his eyes and held his hand tightly. “I believe in you. I know you can do this.”

  “You do? I can?” he said, sounding surprised.

  “Yes, come on!”

  “Okay!” Hayes agreed, in a stronger voice, standing straighter. “I think I can, too!”

  Violet gripped him even harder and pulled him over to TJ, who was standing a few feet away, popping TUMS into his mouth.

  “TJ, we need to talk to you,” Violet said. She stood next to Hayes so they blocked any escape. “We know what to do about the stunt.”

  “You do?” TJ gave a half-snort. “Then you’d be the only ones in the entire studio.”

  “Hayes can do it.”

  TJ rubbed his eyes tiredly. “You know I want to keep him safe.”

  “I do know that. But if you listen to his suggestion—adding trucks or doing something about the trailer for more momentum—he will be safe.”

  TJ shook his head. “It’s still too dangerous.”

  Violet nudged Hayes, and he stepped forward. “TJ, I know I can do it. And you don’t want to waste an entire day. Think of the schedule. Think of the money.”

  “It’s true,” TJ mused. “It would be way too expensive to move this scene to another day. This setup cost so much already.”

  He waved two assistant directors over, and they discussed how to rework the scene. Violet overheard the phrases “unhook the trailer,” “open the front,” “add a ramp,” and “build up speed.”

  TJ turned to Hayes. “I hate to do this, but I’m saying yes.” He eyed Hayes. “Just get a helmet—and fast, before I change my mind.”

  * * *

  One hour later, everything was set. The trailer had been rebuilt and a long ramp added to the open front, hidden from the cameras.

  Hayes stood next to Violet, the helmet under his arm, tapping his toe against the floor with a frenzied beat. His nervous energy was almost tangible—so strong, Violet felt she could reach out and touch it.

  “You holding up okay?” she asked.

  “Sure, just another day on the job,” he joked. “It’s not as if this is the first time I’m doing this stunt.” He hit his head with his palm. “Oh wait, it is!” He tried to smile at Violet. “I am nervous,” he admitted softly, “and I didn’t think I would be. You know I always wanted to do this! But now so much is riding on it—”

  “No pun intended.” Violet wanted to make Hayes smile for real, and he did, visibly relaxing as he laughed.

  “I’m afraid I’ll mess up,” Hayes continued. He waved at the set, taking in the cast and crew. “I don’t want to disappoint everyone.”

  “You won’t mess up. You did the hardest part already, convincing TJ. Now just do what you normally do—ride like the wind. There’s not a doubt in my mind you’ll be great.” She held up her hand to his chin, tilting his head so he looked her in the eyes and couldn’t see anything else but her belief in him.

  “Everyone on set,” TJ called. “We’re starting in…” He glanced at his watch. “Now!”

  “So go out there and ride,” Violet told Hayes, holding his gaze.

  Hayes took a deep breath, grinned, and fastened the helmet. He strode toward the bike, then turned back. Quickly, he drew Violet in for a hug. “Thanks, V.”

  Minutes later, everyone had found their mark. Lights and cameras turned on. Crew members crowded around the scene. Hayes sat on the bike at the far end of the lot.

  “Take one!” called the assistant director, snapping the board.

  “Action!” TJ cried.

  Violet couldn’t see much. But she heard an engine gun and the sound of rushing wind. Then Hayes came roaring through the trailer … flying into the air, rising over one car … two cars … three …

  Violet held her breath as he cleared the final SUV, then spun around neatly.

  “Cut!” called TJ. “That’s a wrap!”

  The set erupted in cheers. ADs high-fived PAs. The craft guys whistled.

  “You nailed it, Hayes!” TJ cried.

  For one long moment, Hayes just sat on the bike, not moving. Finally, he switched off the engine and put down the kickstand. People were rushing over to congratulate him, but he skirted them to find Violet. He folded her into a long, close hug.

  Violet breathed in his scent, a heady mix of exhaust, leather, and orange peels.

  “Enough of that!” TJ said, coming over, playfully pulling them apart. “We have to make up for lost time. Everyone, enough celebrating!” he called out. “Get ready for the next scene—Hawk’s dad confronting Devon in a coffee shop.”

  The set quieted as people went their separate ways. “As for you,” TJ told Hayes, “I’m impressed. You really did a great job. You have the afternoon off. So relax.”

  “Thanks, TJ,” Hayes said happily.

  “Don’t thank me quite yet,” TJ shot back. “You have that big emotional scene at the end of the movie coming up soon. And that, my friend, will be your true test.”

  TJ sauntered off, dropping the empty TUMS container in the trash.

  Hayes and Violet exchanged looks. Violet knew that final scene was weighing heavily on Hayes. She wished TJ hadn’t brought it up now, not when he was feeling so confident.

  As if reading her mind, Hayes said, “Don’t worry, V. I’m not going to let TJ get to me. I mean, did you see that jump? I feel like I can do anything.” He
paused. “At least on a motorcycle.”

  “Yeah, bro!” Tez was suddenly standing in front of them.

  How does he do that? Violet wondered. He’s always appearing out of and disappearing into thin air.

  “You did an amazing job out there!” Tez smiled and nodded at Violet like they were old friends and said, “Hey you.” Violet smiled back, happy to be included in the inner circle.

  Tez dodged around Hayes like he was dribbling a basketball. He feigned taking a shot. “Next time we play hoops? I want you on my team for a change!”

  “I’ll think about it,” Hayes told him, grinning. “But no promises.”

  “Seems like you’re on a roll.” Tez settled down and lounged against a wall. “People are talking ’bout you, dude. Have you seen this crazy fanfic everyone is obsessing over?”

  “You mean those made-up stories about me?” Hayes shook his head in disbelief. “I just found out about them this morning before all this crazy on-set stuff happened. I’d just posted this new pic of Zan and me on Instagram.” Hayes flicked on his phone to show Violet and Tez the picture. The two were posed in front of Hayes’s trailer, both wearing motorcycle helmets and leather jackets. “And my followers were going crazy for those stories in the comments section.”

  Violet gulped. “H-h-have you read any of it yet?”

  “Nah, I haven’t had time, you should know that.” He elbowed her, grinning happily. “But I’m cool with it.”

  “You are?” Violet felt like a load had been lifted from her shoulders.

  “Sure, so long as the stuff I want to keep private stays private.”

  Violet caught her breath. What did that mean exactly? She wished she had an answer—a road map to Hayes’s heart, pointing out which areas were off-limits and which were open to the public.

  “Okay, catch you later,” Tez said, reaching out to Hayes for a one-armed bro hug. He smiled at Violet. “Me and your girl have a meeting, to get started on some merch ideas.”

  “Hey, that’s great!” Violet said absently, waving as he strolled away.

  “What have you got going on?” Hayes asked Violet.

  “Me?” Violet squeaked, thinking maybe somehow he knew she was the fanfic writer and planned to post more stories. But that was ridiculous. He had no way of knowing. And she had plenty of time to tell him. He’d admitted he was too busy to read them. It was possible he’d even like them. Of course, it was just as possible he wouldn’t …

  “Yes, you,” Hayes prompted.

  “Whatever you need done is what I’ve got going on. I’m your assistant, remember?”

  Hayes smacked his head. “That’s right, I forgot. But do you think you can get off the lot and come shopping with me? I have a huge red-carpet event tonight—the premiere of Hearts and Darts—and I haven’t a clue what I should wear.”

  Hearts and Darts was a small independent movie that was getting a lot of press—two American twenty-somethings meet in a London pub, playing darts. Violet thought it looked really good. But she wasn’t thinking about the movie now. She was thinking about Hayes’s invitation.

  “You want my help choosing an outfit?” Violet said, surprised.

  “Sure. You’ve got great style.”

  Violet looked down at her jean shorts and bright red sneakers, the same color as her formfitting T-shirt. She’d been so bleary-eyed that morning, she’d just picked clothes off the floor. Luckily they matched. She looked fine but certainly not hip or fashionable.

  Hayes must still like her—at least as a friend—if he was letting himself believe she had style. He probably just wanted company and hoped Mia’s taste had rubbed off on her.

  “You’re on!”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  VIOLET HAD DRIVEN through Beverly Hills before; she’d seen the most upscale neighborhood in LA many times. More specifically, she’d been down Rodeo Drive, a wide boulevard lined with palm trees and luxury shops and restaurants. With her uncle or Mia at the wheel, she’d gaped at passing store windows and the beautiful people strolling by.

  But she’d never actually walked down the streets. Now, even with tourists strolling along, taking pictures, she felt a little out of her element. She overheard a husband and wife pronounce the street name like the regular rodeo, as in cowboys riding the range.

  At least she knew it was pronounced Roh-DAY-oh Drive, Violet thought. That was one good thing. And after a few minutes of casual window-shopping, she relaxed. When a group of young girls rushed over, asking for Hayes’s autograph, she stepped back. Then she smiled at an older couple who were looking at her questioningly. I’m nobody important, she wanted to tell them. But I’m with somebody who is.

  “I think it’s time to go undercover,” Hayes told Violet when the girls moved on. They rushed back to the car for baseball caps and sunglasses, Hayes insisting Violet wear them, too.

  Then they ducked into a narrow cobblestone alley with small shops on either side. To Violet, the street looked like a movie set, and suddenly she felt like she was costarring in a film, cameras capturing her every move.

  If this were a movie, Violet thought, their Rodeo Drive scene would be a montage of moments …

  Hayes leading her into store after store … Violet skimming through a rack … explaining to a salesperson they were looking for a red-carpet outfit …

  Hayes and Violet laughing over striped slacks that looked more like a prison uniform than a fashion statement …

  Hayes preening in front of a mirror, modeling a flowing silk shirt and fedora … showing off a long leather jacket that he said made him feel like a couch … trying on a white-on-white tuxedo … then finally settling on a more casual tuxedo—more of a blazer with green lapels, a matching green V-necked T-shirt, tailored black slacks, and white sneakers.

  The montage would show them laughing … their eyes meeting in the mirror … their fingers brushing when they reached for the same shirt.

  Violet felt almost giddy. She was having so much fun; Hayes was acting perfectly normal, and there’d been no awkwardness about the night before. It probably helped, she realized, that they’d worked together to fix the Midnight Hawk scene, and that it turned out so well.

  But was it all so relaxed because they were firmly in the “friend zone”? She thought back to the moments when they touched, when their eyes met. Her stomach tightened just remembering.

  “Come on, V. Let’s get out of here.”

  They left the last shop side by side, Hayes swinging his shopping bag back and forth. “That outfit is dope,” he told Violet. “Tonight I’ll be the best-dressed guy on the red carpet.” He turned to Violet. “Did you say something?”

  “No.” Violet blushed. “That was my stomach.” She’d barely eaten all day, just a few crackers with cheese from the craft table that morning. “Ugh,” she added. “Excuse me.”

  “That was you?” Hayes laughed. “I thought it was me. Listen, we’re both hungry. Shopping is like exercise. It should be an Olympic sport. How about we get something to eat? I can take you to my favorite place.”

  Once again, Violet looked down at her shorts and sneakers. She wasn’t exactly dressed for a ritzy Rodeo Drive restaurant, but she was feeling a little reckless. And how could she turn down the chance to spend more time with Hayes?

  “Lead the way!”

  * * *

  “Heavenly Cupcakes.” Violet stood outside the small shop, Hayes by her side, and laughed. The sign featured a pink-frosted cupcake topped by a golden halo. “I love it!”

  Aha! she told herself. I got it right this time. I didn’t say “I love you.” I said “I love it!”

  And she did love it. She was thrilled that Hayes’s favorite place wasn’t a fancy restaurant where people went to see and be seen but a tiny out-of-the-way shop with just a few tables—that only served cupcakes!

  “I do have a thing for cupcakes,” she confided to Hayes as they settled into seats at a corner table. “In fact, I consider myself a cupcake connoisseur. I’ve had everythi
ng from plain vanilla with vanilla icing to salt and pepper and key lime butternut. I’ve even made up a list.”

  Hayes’s eyes lit up as he handed her a menu. “An expert, eh? I’m impressed. Well, I’ve got to warn you, they have some pretty wild ones here, too. What looks good to you, oh knowledgeable one?”

  Violet read through the items, laughing happily. “They have like a hundred different cupcakes! My uncle would love some of these—mango and vegetarian chili! Cucumber and cream cheese! And look, here’s an instant classic: the PB&J cupcake! But maybe that’s too mainstream. The weirder, the better, I say!”

  “I’m with you, V. How about honey and ham? Or mashed potato and gravy?”

  “Well, I’m thinking more sweet than savory today,” Violet declared, not wanting to explain that today had been so sweet, she had to go with a light, fluffy dessert. “I’ll get the raspberry marshmallow.”

  “Let’s make that two. And it’s my treat.” Hayes stood up, walked close behind her, then bent to whisper in her ear, “Be right back.”

  Violet’s ear, so close to his lips, flushed red. She couldn’t turn around, sure her cheeks were bright red, too.

  She heard Hayes joke with the woman behind the counter, and seconds later he was back, holding a tray with two pink-and-white-swirled cupcakes, colorful miniature marshmallows arranged on top.

  Hayes placed the tray on the table, then sat back down, grinning. Violet smiled back and reached for the nearest cupcake. She unwrapped the bottom, ready to eat.

  “Wait!” Hayes practically shouted. “That’s no way to eat a cupcake! You can’t just bite into it!”

  Violet giggled. “Come on, Hayes. How else would you do it?”

  “Allow me to demonstrate.”

  Violet sat forward, eagerly watching as Hayes took off his cupcake wrapper, then cut the cupcake in half, dividing the top from the bottom.

  “Go ahead,” he said. “Now you do it.”

  Violet picked up the knife and sliced.

  “Now,” Hayes went on, “carefully place the side with the icing on the bottom half, like so.” He switched the two halves. “So the icing is in the middle.”