Two Week Turnaround by Geneva Lee Page A

tell-all.”
    â€œThat would be a bestseller,” Belle said dryly, tucking a stray strand of golden hair behind her ear and opening the car door.
    â€œLet’s just say it’s my plan B.”
    Belle paused, already halfway out of the cab. “Maybe you shouldn’t give up on plan A quite yet.”
    Sofia watched her friend disappear into her building before she directed the driver toward her hotel. The thing was she didn’t have a plan A. It had gone out the window when she kissed Isaac. Her best option was to get out of town, regroup and move on. When plans went wrong, she always went back to the beginning. The trouble was that Isaac was the beginning of all of this. So much for the best-laid plans.
    * * *
    Rain pounded against the roof of his trailer as Isaac tossed back another scotch. If this were a scene in a movie, it would have felt heavy-handed, as if the storm was somehow meant to reflect his inner turmoil. That was the thing about being an actor—everything felt like a setup.
    Outside someone rapped on the door and he called for them to come in. Misery loved company, right?
    Spencer’s copper head poked inside, followed quickly by his rain-soaked body. “It’s a no-go. This isn’t going to let up.”
    â€œIt never lets up.” Isaac shrugged and motioned to the bottle next to him.
    â€œWallowing?” Spencer guessed.
    Isaac had been aware of the buzz on the set as soon as he stepped foot on the lot this morning. He’d rather enjoyed the shock on people’s faces that he’d shown up at all. Everyone knew that he was a first-class asshole now and they also knew that he’d made a deal with the devil himself to get his big break. It didn’t fucking matter. At the end of the day, he was still headlining this film and it wasn’t the first time someone had sold their soul to Arnold Maxx.
    â€œI’m brooding,” he corrected his friend.
    â€œAction stars don’t brood. They make things happen.” It was by the far the most sensible thing the young cameraman had ever said to him.
    â€œI don’t think action is called for in this scene.” If it had been, he wouldn’t have let Fia walk out the door last night. He’d fucked things up for good this time. “I should have told her.”
    â€œMaybe,” Spencer conceded. “But who would want to admit that to someone they love?”
    â€œSomeone who was capable of love. Apparently that’s one emotion that I don’t know how to portray.”
    â€œYou are brooding.” Spencer took a seat on the couch and fiddled with his phone. “But why let yourself be typecast?”
    â€œBecause I’m damn good at one role and shit at others. I run from the explosions, remember? I don’t come back and fix things.” Destruction was his specialty. Isaac could save the day, but when the screen faded, he hadn’t changed a damn thing. Not really. He wasn’t the one to deal with the fallout.
    â€œEven if that’s true, the script always calls for you to rescue the girl.”
    â€œThis girl doesn’t need rescuing,” he pointed out. Fia wasn’t some damsel in distress.
    â€œSpoiler—she usually isn’t. The whole point of the movie is to prove you deserve her.” Spencer leaned forward and met Isaac’s eyes. “So do you deserve her?”
    Isaac didn’t even have to consider this. “Hell no.”
    â€œThen we’re still filming. Maybe you should try another take.” He stood to leave and stopped with his hand on the door. “I do know that you aren’t going to get it right if you sit here and drink, though.”
    He had a point. The villains had closed in; the bomb had been dropped. If he was going to be a hero he couldn’t hang back and get wasted. But he had no right to go after her, not after what he’d done. It had been hard enough to look at his own reflection after