Extreme Bachelor (9 page)

A loud screech startled them both, and
Michael turned to where Leah had been standing. She was in her car,
backing out, and her car was making an awful screeching sound.

Nicole coughed as the smoke from Leah’s
tailpipe blasted them. “—the guy who dumped me,” she finished.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Michael said, waving
a hand in front of his face to dissipate the smoke spewing out of
the back of Leah’s car. “Don’t be like that. It was mutual and you
know it.”

“It wasn’t mutual,” she whined, waving her
hand, too. “I never once said I wanted to break it off.”

“Maybe you didn’t say it, but when you
started having those late-night sessions with the director, I
didn’t think you were exactly committed to our little affair,
either.”

She tossed her head at that. “Do we have to
stand here in that junker’s exhaust?”

“No. That junker is leaving,” he said, and
watched Leah drive away with only one functioning brake light.

“Jesus, they should outlaw those things,”
Nicole said. “All right, all right, Michael, the car is gone, you
can look at me now. God, that’s so typical of you. Production
hasn’t even started, and you’re already hitting on some
actress.”

“I’m not hitting on her.”

“Whatever,” Nicole said with a dismissive
flick of her wrist. “I’m going to go get a drink. You want
one?”

Frankly, he could use a drink, and Nicole
could be fun when she loosened up a little. “Okay, but no sushi
bars,” he reminded her.

She smiled. “No sushi, you wimp. Just let me
get my things.”

She gave him a come-hither look that might
have sent a less experienced man to his knees before stepping
around him and moving on. Michael turned around, watched Leah’s car
sputter around the corner, and shoved both hands through his
hair.

One ex-lover. One ex-love of his life. So
far, not a particularly great start to a film he’d been so damn
certain was a gift from Guy Universe.

Subject: Re: YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE!!

From: Lucy Frederick

To: Leah Kleinschmidt

Time: 11:10 pm

Ohmigod, I think I am going to die. Leah,
Leah, please do not do anything completely stupid because you know
you have a tendency to be really stupid when it comes to guys. You
CANNOT talk to him! I mean, okay, obviously you have to TALK to
him, but you can’t let yourself TALK to him, TALK to him, do you
understand? I hope I don’t have to remind you how you laid on the
couch for six months after he did what he did. You were a friggin’
basket case! You ate an entire box of Fruit Loops in one sitting!
Just pleeeease promise me you will remember that he walked out on
you, that out of the clear blue, he announced that he was leaving
and that was the end of that. He had no regard for your feelings or
what you guys had shared for almost a year. I don’t care if he is
still really hot, he’s an asshole! They call him the Extreme
Bachelor for chrissakes!

P.S. When we were on the phone, I wasn’t
laughing about your humiliating fall. I was laughing at you playing
dodgeball. You’re too much a goon to play dodgeball.

Subject: Re: Re: YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE!!

From: Leah Kleinschmidt

To: Lucy Frederick

Time: 8:30 pm

Lucy, of COURSE I am not
going to TALK to him. Newsflash, but I actually remember what
happened. No worries—I am older and more mature and I know what I
want and more importantly, I
don’t
want to get myself into another toxic
relationship, especially with M, because I soooo learned my lesson.
Yes, I remember walking around NYC like a freakin’ zombie. But for
the record—it wasn’t
really
out of the clear blue. Every time the subject of
long-term commitment came up, which okay, you have to admit it came
up more than once, and then you also have to admit I was usually
the one bringing it up, M was pretty clear that he wasn’t into it.
So get a load of this—he called Nicole Redding NICKI. What do you
think that means??? And oh yeah, even in high heels, she still
doesn’t even reach my elbow, which only added to my general
distress for this really miserable day, because there I was looking
like a giant gym teacher from some Ukrainian village—but anyway,
right when she came prancing up, he had just said, and this is a
(nearly) direct quote: “I’ve thought about you a lot. Great things.
Killer things, and I wish—”
I
wish
! AUGH!!! What did he
wish
? WHAT DID HE
WISH?!?!?!

Subject: Re: Re: Re: YOU WILL NOT
BELIEVE!!

From: Lucy Frederick

To: Leah Kleinschmidt

Time: 11:50 pm

Just stay away from him, because that guy
will hurt you again, trust me. I always thought there was something
not right about him.

P.S. David’s mom is really going to drive me
NUTS. We don’t want more than 200 people at the wedding. Big, but
not huge, right? Well David’s mom sends her list over, and it’s 148
people long!! Like my parents don’t have friends they want to
invite? What about me and David? By the way, how do you feel about
puce? As a bridesmaid color, I mean.

TRUDY, who had embraced the new Dumpster
chic so popular in Hollywood, was waiting for Leah the next
morning, dressed in jeans split at the knees, a skirt over the
jeans, a camisole, and a poncho, one arm crossed over her middle,
the other extended with a smoke dangling precariously between two
fingers. She was wearing rhinestone, cat-eye sunglasses today,
undoubtedly purchased from Goodwill, her favorite shopping venue,
and her lips were pressed together in a little rosebud of
displeasure.

Trudy was a hoot. She complained constantly
about her kids, but she was fiercely protective. She was very
pretty, and wanted to act, but didn’t believe in acting classes or
trying to improve her craft and told Leah she was wasting her time
and money on her classes. “Either you got it or you don’t, sugar,”
she’d say with a wink. Well, Leah didn’t have it, apparently, and
she was continuing with class.

“Hey,” Leah said as she gathered her
backpack and locked the one door on her car that would actually
lock.

“So why did you run out yesterday?” Trudy
demanded, dispensing with her typically enthusiastic greeting.

“I had something I had to do.”

“Do, as in shopping? Or do, as in stunt hunk
number 4? Because Michele and I saw him take off after you when you
left.”

“Oh,” Leah said, uncertain what to say to
the evidence presented to her, and shrugged.

“Shut up,” Trudy cried,
tossing her smoke aside and grinding it out with the heel of her
very cute sandals. “What is going on with you and that guy? First
of all, he’s beautiful, and second, do
not
hold out on me. I mean, you
obviously know him. He’s been here one day. Nobody scores that
fast, not even that skank Melinda. Come on, give it up, I’m a
single mom with three kids, and this is as close as I get to
sex.”

“Please,” Leah said with a
roll of her eyes. “You have a boyfriend. Admittedly, not a great
one, but a boyfriend nonetheless—and don’t forget you have
complained that he wants it too much and you’re exhausted. I, on
the other hand,
don’t
have sex, and damn sure not with the stunt guy.” Not that the
thought didn’t keep crossing her mind, but she wasn’t insane. As
far as she was concerned, Michael would never touch her again.
Ever. “All I know for certain is that he is indeed the fourth stunt
guy,” she added, and ducked her head, started digging through her
backpack to hide from Trudy.

“Ohmigod, I’m so going to
kick you or something,” Trudy said in a huff. “Why are you being so
damn coy all of a sudden? Don’t give me, ‘
he’s the fourth stunt guy
,’” she
mimicked.

Leah sighed and glanced up at Trudy’s
cat-eye sunglasses. Trudy took them off and looked at her
pleadingly. “Okay,” Leah said, relenting. “While it is true that I
used to know him, I don’t know him anymore.”

Trudy squealed with glee and quickly put her
arm around Leah’s shoulders. “Do tell, darling, and don’t leave out
a single detail!”

“Don’t get excited. It was years ago.”

“He’s so cute. Did you date him, or
what?”

“I knew him in New York. I
hardly remember anything about him,” Leah said, figuring that was
not a total lie, as some of what they had been together had faded
from her memory.
Some
. Not all.

“Damn,” Trudy said, clearly disappointed, “I
was hoping for so much more. Oh well, it’s probably better this
way.”

“Why?”

“Why? Well, when we saw him walk after you
yesterday, Michele almost had a cow. She said you shouldn’t waste
your time.”

“She did?”

“Sweetie, he’s the Extreme Bachelor,
remember? The lover? And besides, apparently he and Nicole Redding
are still an item—I heard the guy dates anything in a skirt and has
a particular fondness for actresses.”

“Go figure,” Leah muttered.

“Well,
yeah
,” Trudy said cheerfully. “I
mean, he’s so good-looking. And nice. He told me he loved my
shades,” she said, winking at Leah.

So basically, while Leah
had not been able to maintain a meaningful relationship since they
broke up,
he’d
apparently scored with dozens of actresses, including Nicole
Redding and God knew who else. Now she really hated him.

But then again, why should it bother her at
all? She and Michael were done and over a long time ago. He was
free to sleep with whomever he chose. So what if he was the Extreme
Bachelor? What had that to do with Leah Klein? Absolutely nothing.
She was here to do a film, not dig up dirt on an old boyfriend.

Still, it didn’t seem fair he would show up
on this film, and she couldn’t get over it. How was she supposed to
work while Michael did all the actresses on set?

“What’s the matter?” Trudy asked, peering
closely at Leah. “You look sort of weird.”

“Me? I’m fine.”

Trudy peered even closer, her eyes squinting
suspiciously. “How long ago did you say you knew him?”

“A really long time ago,” Leah said, and
forced a smile. “I love your shoes,” she said, to divert Trudy’s
attention from Michael.

It worked—Trudy instantly looked down and
stuck her foot out. “Thanks. I got these and dance shoes for my son
Barton for ten dollars at Goodwill,”

With a name like Barton, it was little
wonder the kid needed dance shoes.

“You should come with me sometime. They have
great stuff. All the women in Brentwood dump their trash there,
which, of course, is my treasure,” she said, and turned her ankle
so Leah could see the heel. Leah pretended to admire Trudy’s
sandals while Trudy catalogued the other cast-off items she’d
snared, but her head was in another stratosphere altogether. She
was determined to avoid Michael because she knew herself too
well—if she paid any attention to him at all, sooner or later she’d
wind up keeping track of his many conquests, and honestly, she
couldn’t imagine a greater hell on earth. Seriously. Watching him
score ranked right up there with forty extra pounds and a fish hook
in the eye.

That morning, she managed to stick to her
new resolution and kept her distance from him. She focused on the
tuck and roll the guys taught them, a skill Eli assured them they
would need during the filming. In fact, Leah was so focused on tuck
and roll that Eli pointed her out a couple of times as a great
tuck-and-roll artist.

Maybe that was something she could add to
her résumé. Beer and tissue commercials. Tuck-and-roll artist.

When they broke for lunch,
Leah was laughing with Michele and Jamie at how one Starlet
could
so
not
tuck
or
roll, and
Michael surprised the hell out of her by walking right into their
midst. Unlike her, apparently, he was not the least bit intimidated
by their past or their surroundings. He put his hands on his hips
and smiled so charmingly at them that Leah thought Jamie might pass
out.

“Good work today,” he said to Jamie. “You
have a very good roll.”

“Thanks,” Jamie chirped, and stepped in
front of Michele to get Michael’s attention. Only Jamie’s head
barely reached Michele’s chin.

Nevertheless, Michael smiled down at her and
said, “You’re really a natural. Have you done this before?”

“Me?” Jamie asked, pleased as punch. “Yes .
. . I was a gymnast.”

Michele snorted.

“It shows,” Michael said
with a smile and glanced at Michele. “Hey, I know you—you were the
blond assassin in
Chechnya
.”

Michele blinked. “Oh,” she said, lighting
up. “I’m surprised you noticed me.”

“Are you kidding?” Michael asked with a sexy
grin. “It’s not every day you see a beautiful assassin. I couldn’t
take my eyes off of you.”

Michele grinned broadly. Leah wanted to kick
her.

“Is it all right if I borrow Leah a moment?”
he asked a drooling Jamie and a moon-eyed Michele. “I really need a
word with her.”

Michele’s mouth dropped open and she gaped
at Leah. Jamie grinned at Michael, nodding.

That part about him hadn’t changed, either,
apparently— he was still capable of stopping conversation with a
smile and a wink.