Role of a Lifetime: Out of Hollywood Romance Read online

  Role of a Lifetime

  By

  Cora Davies

  Copyright © 2015 by Cora Davies

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Other Books by the Author

  Epitaph

  A personal note to you, my dear reader,

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Epilogue

  A Christmas Affair: A Seaside Cove Romance Preview

  About The Author

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  For David Bowie. You taught me I did not have to wake up and be the same someone every day.

  I only had to wake up and be someone I was proud of. I can write a romance one day and a space opera the next, as long as I stay true to myself.

  Other Books by the Author

  Out of Hollywood Romance Series

  Role of a Lifetime

  Swept Away Coming Summer 2016

  Seaside Cove Romance Series

  A Christmas Affair Jack and Molly’s Story Preview at end of book

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  Epitaph

  “If music be the food of love, play on”

  William Shakespeare

  Twelfth Night

  Act 1, Scene 1

  A personal note to you, my dear reader,

  I am so excited for you to meet Hailey and Eric. This couple came to me in a dream in March of 2015 and I spent all of April 2015 writing the first draft of their love story. They have had some major overhauls since that first draft, but one thing remains the same, the overall tone of humor, suspense, and romance.

  Did you know?

  Reviews are like food for the indie artist’s soul. Even a one sentence review is appreciated by indie authors more than you will ever know. Especially starving writers like myself.

  If you enjoy your time with Hailey and Eric, I would love if you could take a minute and leave an honest review on Amazon at the end. I’ll leave you the link at the end of the book too!

  Stay tuned at the end for a six-chapter preview of my romance novel, A Christmas Affair: A Seaside Cove Mystery.

  Enjoy your time here with Hailey and Eric,

  Cora Davies

  CHAPTER ONE

  Hailey Rogers sat on her front porch and looked over the large green pasture-still dotted with snow not quite melted off yet; her herd of sheep grazed on the newly visible grass. The small ranch had come so far in the past few years. It might even look to an outsider like Hailey knew what she was doing.

  Hailey's mother, Rebecca, always said, life is just made up moments of pretending like you know what you are doing. She was right. Hailey simply had to smile and act like she knew how to run a ranch, and everything would be all right. Thankfully, she was able to rely on a fully knowledgeable staff to tell her what to do, what to buy, whom to hire, who to turn away, and how to handle all these changing seasons. Hailey listened to her staff like she listened to no one else.

  Her agent, her editor, and her friends from the city all argued with Hailey when she said she was going to buy a ranch. They wanted her to stay in the city. They wanted to keep an eye on her. Her agent especially feared that owning a ranch would take away from Hailey's time writing her next bestseller. She was partially right, but only in the first few months before she had given up on actually running the operation, and simply hired people to do it for her. It was one thing to write, to create, and to release the demons that ate at her from the inside. Writing was a journey, but a lonesome one. It was an entirely different journey to share in the experience of the ranch with her mother and her daughter. Again, not that she knew what she was doing.

  Even her rebellious teenage daughter collected eggs from the chickens. Rebecca had learned how to spin wool into yarn. Hailey discovered a green thumb and sold small plants in the spring, but other than that she found things ran smoothest when she stayed out of the way.

  Hailey watched as Jason's truck pulled into the gravel driveway. Jason was the ranch foreman, and akin to a father figure to her. She trusted him with her ranch, finances, and her family. Trust was a good thing since she recently found out Jason and her mother had been dating quietly for some time.

  "Morning, Hailey," Jason said as he climbed the few porch steps. In his early sixties, Jason was one of those healthy looking older men. His short hair and beard were graying; wrinkles were set around his eyes from a long life of working under the sun. But that was where his aging ended -he was built with slender muscles and worked a longer day than men half his age. In his typical uniform of work boots, jeans, and a Carhartt jacket, Jason placed his baseball cap on his head. "You're up early."

  "I have to go into Chrissy's school this morning," Hailey said standing up and leaning on the wooden rail. She pulled her cream sweater tighter against her arms but enjoyed the dampness of the morning dew on her face. The air was crisp in her lungs. "She was caught with some friends defacing the wall in the gym."

  "Really? Doesn't seem like her," Jason said with obvious surprise on his face. His voice did not betray the shock -he was always a quiet man.

  "That's what I said." Hailey nodded. Chrissy was a good student who kept herself busy volunteering at the animal shelter. She had fallen into a bit of a goth phase lately in her style of clothing, makeup, and music. But that had been a normal phase for teenagers even when Hailey was a kid. Hailey sighed.

  "How did they deface it?" Jason asked as he looked down to the barn where the other four ranch hands parked their vehicles in the morning. He was typically the first to arrive, but the others were never too far behind.

  "No idea. Hopefully, nothing too expensive." Hailey forced a small laugh. Chrissy pretended last night like she did not know what happened to the gym. She insisted she had not been part of it, and then locked herself in her room refusing to open the door again that evening.

  "Well, let me know if I can do anything," Jason said running his hands down the bill of his cap before walking down the stairs. "I'm sure I could help with repairs if I need."r />
  "Thank you, but if she did this, she'll be held responsible. Might just come out of her car fund," Hailey said. She noticed Jason had picked up a little bit of a grandfatherly love for Chrissy over the past year.

  "Alright. Well, just let me know," Jason said over his shoulder as he crossed the short distance to the barn.

  Hailey sat back down in her chair and lifted her tea to her lips for another sip, enjoying the feel of the steam against her face. Hailey almost spilled the mug as the sound of sirens blasted from her cell phone. She forgot she had brought it out here. It was her agent's ring tone.

  "Ugh," Hailey groaned. She owed Gretel pages in two days. Hailey was usually ahead of schedule, but she was having a hard time wrapping her head around her current character's motivation for running away to Paris. "Gretel."

  "Hailey, my bestie." Gretel sighed into the phone. The two women had become good friends when Hailey lived in the city, but as soon as she waved goodbye to the fast life to move out here, they had grown distant. They still had love for each other, but Hailey knew the bestie statement was just butter before the kill. "I am only calling to check in on you. I know you are probably logging in the hours in front of your laptop, but I wanted to make sure you weren't pushing yourself too hard..."

  The woman's voice trailed off hopefully. She was, in fact, hoping Hailey was pushing herself too hard. Hailey had to stifle a giggle. "Oh, you know me, Gretel."

  "Oh goodie!" Gretel's relief was obvious through the phone. Hailey felt a little bad for lying to the woman. But she would have the pages to her in time for the deadline. She always did. "So how far are you?"

  "I'm-"

  "You know, you don't have to wait and send everything all at once. You can send some now, and some Friday."

  "I don't have time to send anything this morning," Hailey said. "I have an appointment here in a few I need to get ready for. But I did want to talk with you this weekend about something."

  "If it's about your other project again, please, just believe me when I say I can't sell an epic fantasy by Jeanette Hope. Not when you are so well known for romance."

  Jeanette Hope was Hailey's pen name. "I'm thinking of shopping it out myself, or even going indie on this one."

  There was a long sigh from the other end of the line. Hailey knew she was putting a lot on Gretel's shoulders to ask her to help Hailey reinvent herself. As it was, she wrote under a pen name, and it would not be difficult to write under a second name. "I'll see what I can do, okay? But, only if you do something for me."

  "What?"

  "It's the first already," Gretel said in a singsong voice, then Hailey heard the phone drop. Gretel was expecting Hailey to yell as she had done last month, and possibly the month before when Gretel brought it up. But Hailey felt defeated, and it was definitely too early in the morning to yell into the phone. After a few seconds, Gretel was back on the line. "Hails? The Passenger's Control."

  "No."

  "C'mon please? Just a meeting? Let me set up a meeting, then you can say no in person. I'll shop the other book around for you if you just give me a meeting!"

  "Gretel, no." Hailey shook her head. "Look, if that's all, I'll make sure you have the pages by Friday."

  "They sent Eric James himself to my office to ask."

  "What? They did not."

  "They did. Please. If you could just meet him, I bet you'd think about it." Gretel's voice sounded dreamy.

  "Just because you were star struck by a set of big brown eyes and a standard set of Hollywood muscles-" Hailey began, but Gretel cut her off.

  "You would be, too. It is hard to breathe when he is in the room. It's like... It's like he takes all the air just for himself." Gretel sighed as Hailey rolled her eyes.

  "I'm not signing off on movie rights for that book. I won't, not unless I can have complete control. And his company isn't going to do that, so no. Again. For the what? Fifth month in a row. No." Hailey hung up her phone and tossed it onto the wicker chair beside her. What the hell was it with Eric James and this book? There were a billion other books out there, and he had to find the one that could not be a movie. Hell, she had five other bestsellers, three had been made into movies, two that she would gladly sign rights over for, but he wanted this one. The man was going to be the death of Hailey and she had never even met him.

  The alarm on her phone sounded the moment she hung up. It was already time to get Chrissy up.

  ***

  Eric James rolled over in bed awakened by a chill traveling up his naked body. He reached for the blanket to pull it back over his shoulders, but it was missing. Forcing one eye open, he spotted the missing covers. Sandy had stolen all of them and rolled around in cotton fabrics until they were twisted around her legs and arms. He was not going to be getting his blankets back unless he woke her up, and judging by the dim light peeking in from under the curtains, it was still too early in the morning to deal with her.

  Fuck it, though. He was cold. He reached over to the bottled blond's side of the bed, grabbed a corner of the gray down blanket, and yanked. Sandy barely made a sound as he rolled her out of the blanket. She landed flat on her back and began to quietly snore. Eric closed his eyes and almost drifted back to sleep when he heard a woman groan. It was not Sandy. Shit. Mindy? Miche? Minnie? He looked down to the floor, and there she was-a jumble of sheets and blankets herself-the woman was waking up. She was some woman they brought home with them from the party last night.

  "Go back to sleep," he said.

  "Where am... Oh, hi Eric." The woman focused on him, sat up and arched her back ensuring her breasts poked as far as she could make them. She lowered her voice and asked, "Are you cold?"

  "Look, Maggie. Go back to sleep, or leave," he said and rolled over to face Sandy again. If he was thinking more clearly, he'd get up, get dressed, go for a run. But, his head was pounding and the room might as well have been spinning.

  The woman sighed. "My name is Tina. Are you sure you want me to go back to sleep? I could..." The woman's voice trailed off. Eric gave up on sleep; instead, he reached over and pushed the intercom button.

  "Yes, Mr. James?" Hannah answered. Hannah was something of a facilitator of the house as well as one of his personal assistants.

  "I need an extract for one of Sandy's guests," he said-his voice partially muffled by the pillow. They would send one the security guys up, and they would get this woman out of the house.

  "Yes sir," Hannah said and Eric could hear her snapping her fingers in the background before she severed the connection.

  "No wait, I-," Tina said sounding stunned.

  "Party's over. I'm sure Sandy's done with you. Time for you to go," Eric grabbed his cell phone from the nightstand and sat up in bed. As he opened his emails he glanced down at the woman on the floor who still looked stunned. "They're taking you out-clothes or not... If I were you."

  Eric pointed to Tina's pile of clothing on the floor next to the door. She stared at it, then back to him again before dashing over and quickly getting dressed. "My guys will remind you about the non-disclosure, and you'll get your phone back on the way out the back entrance."

  There was a single knock at the door before it was thrown open. Two of Eric's security team walked in and took Tina by the arms. Gently, but with enough force that she knew exactly which way to walk.

  "Bye bye," Sandy muttered from her half-sleep before snoring again. Eric rolled his eyes at both the women, then returned to his in-box. His assistant handled most of what came through his mail, but she pushed whatever needed his eyes on to him. Mostly, there were emails from his publicist’s team-daily recaps of what he was photographed doing. Did the world really need a photograph of Eric coming out of a coffee shop every day of the week? When he got to the end of his life and looked back-would he wonder if overpriced coffee was the highlight?

  Then, of course, there were the random emails from his buddies, a few from his brother, and one from his agent, Luca. It was titled ASAP. Eric opened the email, only
two words. Call me.

  "Another person it's too early in the morning to talk to," Eric said leaning against the headboard and closing his eyes. Sandy. He wanted to kick her out. He wanted her gone as much as he wanted Luca gone. They were both emotional vampires he had somehow gotten himself aligned with. People who drained his energy and sanity-people who made him a fucking millionaire many times over. Where Sandy was good for a piece of eye candy and keeping him in the press, he knew she was mostly using him to further her own career as a model. She would probably be washed up by now if she had not attached herself to a big name like Eric's. The same could be said for Luca's career. But the only problem was, he and Luca had been friends since high school. There would be no shaking him.

  Eric glanced over and made sure Sandy was underneath a blanket, then flipped on the television and connected to the comm. Within seconds, Luca was on the screen.

  "Eric," the asshole said. Luca looked like a typical Hollywood agent if you believed the movies. Sometimes Eric wondered if Luca didn't grease back his hair and smoke a cigar because that was what he thought agents did. "Thanks for calling. Love the shirtless look. Just calling to remind me I need to get to the gym?"

  "Not like you haven't seen it all before man."

  "Yes, but usually with the editing and the mastery of a whole production team. And after a couple of hard drinks. Not over my morning coffee."

  Eric rolled his eyes. As if half of the Hollywood suits did not spike their morning coffee. "What's up man?"

  "Well, you tell me."

  "I got an email to call you ASAP," Eric said raising his eyebrow. Luca laughed.

  "Oh yeah, it's the first isn't it? On the first I call her agent, she calls her, she calls me back and says no," Luca said indicating for someone to come to his desk. He was handed a stack of papers which he waved at the camera. "I've got other scripts here. Three in fact that the studios are eating up-and want you now for."