Laguna Nights by Kaira Rouda

a made-for-TV word, fitting of his cocky character, and he should have thrown it out of his vocabulary when the Hollywood Nights show was cancelled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t suggest this, Roger did and now he’s got Marty interested, too. He doesn’t know how you hated the showbiz stuff. I tried to tell him, but he says you’re a natural. All I know is you’re irresistible.”
    “I don’t believe you,” she said quietly, still facing the ocean, her back to him. His heart fell. “You’re trying to torture me or something. I have everything planned. My life is set. It’s fine.”
    “It’s just dinner, Madison. We’ll make things clear to Marty together,” he said, gently touching her shoulder. He felt her soften, just a little. He wanted to wrap her in his arms, pick her up and carry her to his room, be alone with her, convince her that he wasn’t the bad guy. That he was the guy she needed in her life. That he always had been.
    “Just dinner. That’s all,” she said, finally facing him, her jaw clenched. A single tear was working its way down her cheek.
    “Oh, babe, don’t cry,” he said, reaching to wipe the tear away, pulling her to him, her head resting on his shoulder. Everything in him wanted to protect her, to be with her, to never let her go. He touched her cheek, gently turning her face so she would meet his eyes.
    But Madison obviously felt otherwise as she pushed away. “Don’t call me ‘babe’. Never call me that. That’s what you called Laura, at the end of our season and on Hollywood Nights . Don’t you care when you hurt me?”
    Josh watched stunned realizing the deep hurt inside her as Madison walked away from him pulling open the glass door of the restaurant and disappearing inside. He knew she needed space and this time, he’d give it to her. At least until dinner, which was in half an hour.
    Josh hurried back to the tented reception area, searching for Marty, hoping to explain to him why Madison wouldn’t work for Journeys with Josh. He spotted Marty in the corner of the tent, next to the bar, chatting with the director of photography. That meant the film crew had arrived, Josh noted, and his heartbeat intensified before he could calm himself. This was his destiny, he told himself. He was meant to be in this industry, a respected actor. This is a stepping stone.
    “Josh, there you are,” Marty said, smiling, hoisting his drink in the air. Josh noted the slick shine on his forehead, the sweat on his lip and wondered again why the man insisted on wearing a full suit and tie, everywhere. “You remember Paul, our DP? The crew is all here. It’s happening.”
    Paul sported shoulder length dark hair, flip-flops, ripped jeans and a tight T-shirt meant to display his ample biceps. He was tragically hip, LA style, Josh thought as he shook his hand and thought he noticed the other man smirk.
    “Whatever this is that’s happening,” Paul said. “At least we get a good meal or two out of it.”
    “Paul, this is going to be huge,” Marty said, taking a big gulp of his drink.
    “Sure,” Paul said before walking away.
    “We can’t hire a crew that believes in the project?” Josh said, feeling his jaw clenching and his neck tightening.
    “They do. Relax. Everyone’s behind you; wants this to work. It’s your comeback, kid,” Marty said. “I’m starving. Should we round everyone up for dinner? And where is Madison? Roger insists on her joining us for dinner, and testing for the show.”
    “She’s coming to dinner, but that’s all,” Josh said. “She’s not doing the show. Period.”
    “I love it when women play hard to get,” Marty said, smiling. “Let’s go eat.” And with that, Marty walked away leaving Josh alone in the corner of the tent, watching them all make their way to dinner. Madison was going to kill him, he realized, joining the rest of the men walking to dinner.
    The private dining room was elegant, Josh observed with a white linen tablecloth covering