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Authors: Melissa Pearl

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BOOK: Bulletproof
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CHAPTER SIX

SEAN

 

The dance studio was buzzing by the time I got there. Strains of “Lady Marmalade” filtered down the stairwell as I made my way up for rehearsal.

“Yes, and contract then rise slowly, pushing your hips out. Nice!” Isabella’s enthusiasm was effervescent. “And the pirouettes!”

I looked over at Ashlee. She was standing on the table with the other girls, her body spinning quickly. She came out of the move and stepped back so Trudy (aka Violet) could take center stage again. The song came to a sizzling finish and a swift cheer rose from the dancers.

The girls stood, puffing and elated, on the table. They looked smoking hot, even in their sweats. That song, in full costume, was going to be amazing.

“You girls think you can do it for Travis and Con?”

They nodded. “Let us run through it one more time.” Ashlee raised her finger, and they jumped down from the table to reset.

I dropped my bag and leaned against the wall next to Quinn.

“Hey, man. What’s this dance for?”

“The next episode.”

“I thought we were working on the big final number today.”

“We’re supposed to be. Isabella got distracted.”

“She’s gonna get in trouble,” I sing-songed and we both chuckled.

“Lady Marmalade” cut off our laughter, and I studied the girls as they shimmied through the number again. It was a really good dance; everybody felt it.

I loved that buzz running through all of us as we got excited about future scenes. The song ended and we all clapped again, Quinn whooping extra loudly.

“You’re happy.” I grinned.

“Yeah, well, if you read the script for next week, I get to make out with that hot young thing in the next scene.”

I shook my head. When fiction became reality. I knew Quinn liked Trudy. Lucky for them their characters were into each other, too. I glanced at Ashlee, struggling to imagine feeling that way about her. She was cute and pretty, plus a real sweetheart. It wasn’t hard for Harley to be in love with her, but she definitely wasn’t my type.

A firm throat-clearing grabbed everyone’s attention, and we looked over at Travis McKinnon as he stepped into the room. Conway stood beside him and Lisa hovered behind. The girl who I was pretty sure was exactly my type slipped into the room and leaned against the wall. She had her clipboard at the ready and was lightly tapping her pen on the wood.

“Okay, show me.” Travis nodded at Isabella.

A hush of anticipation spread across the room as the girls took their positions.

“Now, it’s still a little rough.” Isabella raised her hands at the men. “We’ll obviously shine it up, but this will give you an idea of what I have in mind.”

They both nodded, their eyes narrowing critically as the opening clicks of the song echoed through the room.

Having seen the dance twice, I actually kept my eyes on Travis, Con, and—I couldn’t help myself—Morgan. The edge of her lip kept rising into that lopsided smirk. Her eyes were glued to the dancers; I could feel the energy flowing out of her as if her body wanted to move with them.

I turned back to the girls and pictured Morgan up there. The image was so damn sexy my groin started twitching. I stood up straight and crossed my arms, deciding it was best not to look over at the tall blonde again.

The girls clustered together for their end position as the song finished, and once again a roar went up. We obviously weren’t sick of seeing it yet. All eyes turned to Travis and Con. The director was grinning, his head bobbing with approval. Travis remained staunch for a few agonizing beats before finally giving a stiff nod.

“I like it. Sexy as hell. It’ll be perfect for that scene. Lisa, can we get the rights?”

“I’m working on it.”

“Good job.” He nodded at Isabella.

“Actually, it wasn’t just me.” She pointed toward Morgan with a smile.

The showrunner’s face turned hard as he looked over at his new gofer. “Her?”

“Yes, sir. She had some really great ideas. She was actually the one who suggested the song.”

I could see what Isabella was trying to do. Travis had been such an ass the day before, any points for Morgan would be helpful...although it really wasn’t having the desired effect.

“What the hell were you doing up in the dance studio?” He glared at Morgan.

“I got here early.”

You could tell she was embarrassed and obviously wanted this to happen someplace else, or not at all, but she stood her ground. She wasn’t blinking at tears; she kept her chin up, and her beautiful gaze didn’t waver.

“It’s not your place to come up with dance moves. You’re a runner, my
second
assistant. You’ve been in this industry for a day. You don’t have the right to an opinion. You shut up and you do your job. That’s it.”

“I understand.” She nodded without a flinch, acting as though the words were just bouncing right off her.

Isabella rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and firing a few angry glares at our boss.

“Okay.” He turned back to his choreographer with a sigh. Her glare disappeared, replaced with a forced smile. “So, I still want to use it. Keep working on it, but not today. The big final number needs to be perfect before we start filming in two hours. Run through a few rehearsals and get your asses to makeup.”

He gave the actors a broad smile and then spun out the door, but not before giving Morgan a few sharp words I couldn’t hear. She kept her dignity, even waiting until Travis left the room before wiping a drop of his angry spittle off her face.

I wanted her to turn and catch my gaze before she left. I wanted to flash her a sympathetic smile, but she never looked my way. As soon as Travis left, her eyes dropped to the floor and stayed there.

Isabella gave me an exasperated look before clapping her hands.

“Okay, people, ‘Don’t Stop the Music’, let’s go.”

We ran into our positions, ready to start. My eyes traveled to the door one more time, but it was empty. Although Morgan wasn’t there anymore, it was nice to know I’d end up bumping into her again...and when I did, I was asking her out. Anyone who could withstand that kind of humiliating put-down in front of basically the entire cast was worth my time.

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

MORGAN

 

So my super-awesome start to the day had been completely shat on by the lovely Travis McKinnon. I thought I was going to die when he gave me worm status up in that dance studio. It was so humiliating, I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me. Thankfully, I’d managed to maintain my dignity. I knew how to switch off my emotions when I needed to; it was an art I’d begun practicing at fourteen. Jody was such a mess, I didn’t want her to see me cry as well, so I learned to just switch it off, pretend it didn’t hurt. Life was too short for tears.

I spent the rest of the day in robot mode, completing every order with a quiet calm. No smiles, no tears; that was the way to get through. I avoided everyone I could, keeping myself busy. I could sense Sean’s eyes on me this morning, in the dance studio, but I couldn’t look at him. His smiles were enough to turn my knees to putty, and after what Travis said to me, I didn’t want to face anyone.

Clearing my throat, I dug out my car keys and clipped out of the building. It was just on nine p.m. My brain was fried, my feet were killing me...again...and all I wanted was a hot bath and bed.

“Hey, Morgan.”

I froze at the sound of Sean’s voice. Glancing over my shoulder, I watched him run after me.

“Are you okay?” I strove for my quiet calm, but it was damn hard with him standing that close. If I stretched out my hand, I could touch his face, run the pads of my fingers over his goatee. I clenched my bag strap and smiled. “Did I forget something?”

“No.” He shook his head, his white teeth shining. “I was just wondering if you were hungry...or thirsty. I mean, do you drink…or do you...eat?” He winced.

I couldn’t help a snicker.

“That was meant to sound way smoother than that, by the way. I even rehearsed it before chasing after you.”

My stomach rumbled with mirth, and I pressed my lips together, trying to control it. Sean Jaxon, aka Mr. Cool, was struggling to talk to me?

I was still trying to get over the shock that he was standing out here in the lot, having chased me down.

The keys jingled in my hand as I spun them around my finger. “Actually, I do both of those things.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” A smooth smile eased over his face. “I’m also kind of hoping you’ll say you’re hungry and thirsty right now, because I could remedy that for you.”

Holy shit. He was asking me out. This wasn’t real.

I swallowed, trying to mask my astonishment. I should have been telling him I was really tired and needed to head home. It might have been Friday, but I still had a full day of work tomorrow. But...

“Yeah, you know what, that’d be great.”

“Okay.” His dark lips stretched into a smile. “Well, do you want to follow my car and we’ll go find us some chow?”

“Sounds good.”

I watched him walk a few cars down and get into a very lush Camaro. Feeling like the poor cousin, I started up my sedan and followed Sean. I pulled to the side of the road as he ran into a Subway, loving how real that small gesture made him. Celebrities ate sandwiches, just like we did. I shook my head with a grin and followed him to Griffith Park. We parked on Crystal Springs Drive and walked to a nearby picnic spot.

Taking a seat at the table, he handed me a twelve-inch sub. “Hope you like ham and cheese.”

“I’ll eat anything.” I took the drink with a smile and sipped from the straw. “Mmm, good.”

“I figured you could do with some sweetness after your day.”

I slowly unwrapped my sandwich and let out a half-laugh, half-sigh.

“Travis is a dick. He shouldn’t have treated you that way.”

I shrugged. “He just wants people to know who’s in charge.”

“He should treat his assistants better though.”

“He treats Lisa okay.”

“She’s been with him for a couple of years now.”

“Yeah, she probably earned her way into his good books, I guess.” I took a bite of the sub and let out a happy sigh.

“Good, right?” Sean took a mammoth bite of his roll and wiggled his eyebrows.

I smiled around my mouthful.

“So, Miss Pritchett, do you think you’ll be able to survive the throes of a TV assistant’s job?”

“I better be able to. It’s the only job I could find.” I shook my head, still baffled and embarrassed by this fact.

“It’ll be okay. You just have to work your way up the ranks. Who knows, soon you might be a showrunner yourself.”

I smirked. “Yeah, right.”

“Come on, now. You were amazing today.”

“How?”

“Your idea, for the ‘Lady Marmalade’ song. It was good.”

I made a little scoffing noise in my throat.

“Hey.” Sean’s voice was stern. “It was good. It was sexy. Damn, woman, the show needs ideas just like that.”

I tried to hide how much his compliment meant to me by taking another bite of food.

“You used to dance?”

“When I was a kid.”

“I could see it today, when you were watching; you looked like you wanted to be up there with them.”

“What can I say; music does something to my body.”

“Makes it want to move. Makes it want to groove.”

I chuckled. “Pretty much.”

“So, why you being a runner then? Why you not dancin’?”

I had to bite back my smile at the way he was talking. It was like a part of his old self was breaking through his cool exterior. I had no idea what he was like as a kid, but it definitely made me curious about his upbringing.

“I had to give it up.” I played with the edge of my Subway wrapper, my throat thickening with regret. This was why I never spoke about it...the thickening in my throat. It came on every time I relived that awful day when I stood in front of my dance teacher and told her I had to quit.

 

“You have to what?” Ms. Finnermore’s lips parted.

“I’m sorry, but I just can’t fit it in anymore.”

“Morgan, you can’t just quit; you’re one of my best dancers.”

I ignored the compliment, knowing I had to stay strong. Jody needed me to.

“It’s not that I don’t love it, and I might pick it up again one day, but right now, I have other responsibilities.”

“Like what? You’re fourteen?”

Her incredulous tone was like a whip across my cheek.

I knew how old I was!

“Life’s just gotten a little complicated, and I have to be home straight after school now.”

“What about the high school applications?”

“It’s not—” I shook my head. “Dad can’t afford it, and it’ll still be busier than normal school. Plus it’s not in Pasadena, and I really need to be near home.”

“What’s going on, Morgan? Is there anything I can help you with?” Her long fingers rested gently on my shoulder.

My eyes burned, but I refused to them glisten with tears.

“No.” I cleared my throat, trying to eradicate that thickening in my windpipe.

“Morgan, what’s happened?” I wanted to open up to her right then, to let all my tears fall and tell her my tragic news, but I couldn’t. If I fell apart in that dance studio, I’d never be able to pick up the pieces.

“Look, it’s kind of private, Ms. Finnermore. I appreciate you wanting to help and everything, but you can’t. Things have changed, and I have to be there for my family. Dancing will just have to wait.”

 

And it did.

“Why’d you give it up?” Sean studied me carefully in the dusky light.

My bottom lip stuck out and I shrugged, not sure why I felt like telling him. I rarely mentioned this to anyone. “My mom left and I had to look after my little sister. There just wasn’t time to fit in dance rehearsals around grocery shopping and cooking and cleaning and helping a ten-year-old with homework.” My voice hitched. I sniffed and took a large bite of my sandwich, hoping to avoid talking for a minute.

“Where was your dad?”

I brushed the crumbs from my bottom lip and swallowed. “Working. Mom took her part-time wage with her and things got a little tight.”

“Where’d she go?”

My chest restricted, the muscles pulling so tight I thought they might ping straight off my rib cage.

“I don’t know where she went then, but last I heard, she sings at this little lounge in a Las Vegas casino.” I placed my sandwich on the table, a bitter taste filling my mouth.

“You ever see her?”

“Nope.” I accentuated the P.

“How old were you when it happened?”

“Fourteen.”

“Whoa, that’s kinda harsh.”

I shrugged. “It made me strong, I guess. Bulletproof.” I smirked, needing this conversation to be over.

“Bulletproof?”

“Yeah, it’s a good way to live. It’s helped me get over numerous breakups and whenever life gets particularly shitty, I can just give it the finger and start singing.” I immediately launched into “Bulletproof” by La Roux.

Sean’s laughter rose as I worked my way through the verse, bobbing my head and lifting my finger. When I got to the chorus, he joined me, even harmonizing on the long notes. Man, he had a good voice. I stopped singing and let him finish the chorus by himself.

“What?” He grinned at me.

“You’re just...” I shrugged. “Really talented.”

“So are you.” His quiet voice was silky, making my skin tingle.

Words filled my mouth, but none of them could break free. I was paralyzed by his soft blue gaze, unable to look away from it, desperate for it to never end.

Loud laughter from across the grass made me jump.

Glancing at my watch, I realized it was already ten-thirty, probably not the best time to be out in a park.

“I guess we should head off.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Sean started gathering up the trash. I went to help him, but he raised his hands. “No, ma’am. Let me do the dishes, please.”

Laughter shot out of my belly and I raised my hands, stepping away from the table. I fished out my keys as I waited for him to finish cleaning up and then stepped in beside him as we walked to our cars via the trash can.

Our arms kept brushing, our hands occasionally hitting each other’s. I felt like I was in middle school again, that giddy feeling flickering through my stomach as I wondered if he was going to take my hand.

He never did.

We got to my car, and he stood a pace away from me, his hands in his pockets, his eyes gently caressing me.

“Thanks for joining me for a late-night snack.”

“Anytime.” I smiled. “You owe me anyway.”

“I owe you?”

“Yeah, you somehow managed to wrangle a little family history out of me, and you now owe me some history of your own.”

“I’m surprised you don’t know it all already.” He frowned, scratching behind his ear.

“I only know what the Internet tells me, and that’s not always true.”

His lips pursed to the side before breaking into a smile. “I knew I liked you for a reason, Morgan Pritchett.”

I could feel my insides glowing as he winked at me, reaching past me to open my door. I slid into the seat, buckling my seatbelt and waving goodbye as he turned for his car. He followed me out, honking farewell as I turned off toward Pasadena.

I guess it couldn’t really qualify as a date or anything. He didn’t kiss me goodbye, didn’t even try to hold my hand. In fact, there was nothing date-like about our evening. It was just two people having a bite together.

As I slowed to a stop at the intersection, it occurred to me that I hadn’t done that with a guy in years. I had basically been dating since I was fifteen. Guys were never friends with me, because they always knew they could get more.

I couldn’t decide whether to be happy or sad.

On the one hand, being friends with Sean would be amazing, but man, I wanted so much more.

“Who the hell are you kidding?” I looked at my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Sean Jaxon! Take whatever you can get, Morgan.”

BOOK: Bulletproof
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