His Larkville Cinderella. Melissa Mcclone

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СКАЧАТЬ Patterson twins, fathered by her dad before he married her mom, were more like Megan’s brothers and sister than her.

      “I finally have the designs.” Eva’s tone made the delay sound like Megan’s fault. “We can get started now.”

      “Hey, you,” a male voice said. “Girl in the pink T-shirt.”

      Megan looked at one of the men sitting at the table. He was handsome in a distinguished-gentleman sort of way. His tan skin and sun-bleached hair made her think he spent a lot of time outside. She guessed he might be the producer who lived here.

      “Go get Adam,” the man said.

      Adam? The blood rushed from Megan’s head. She had no idea who the guy was talking about.

      Eva laughed. “Megan is new in town, Chas. She’s from Texas and my latest intern. One of her former professors is a very close friend of mine who has an eye for raw talent. Emphasis on raw.”

      The man and woman standing at the rail looked at Megan for a nanosecond, then returned to their conversation.

      Megan tried to let it roll off her. The way she used to do back in Larkville.

      Here in Hollywood, she had no choice. Getting your foot in the door was all about connections. A few people managed positions on their own, but it wasn’t easy. Professor Talbott had secured this internship for her. But nothing was guaranteed. She would have to prove her worth or she would find herself back at the ranch before the annual Fall Festival in October. Who was she kidding? She might be home by Fourth of July, or worse, Memorial Day.

      A heavy weight pressed down on her. She struggled not to let her shoulders droop.

      “Texas, huh?” the blond man Eva had called Chas said.

      Megan nodded.

      He gave her the once-over, but with his sunglasses on she couldn’t tell what he thought about her. “Dallas or Austin?”

      “Larkville.”

      “Never heard of it.”

      “You’re not missing anything unless you like pickup trucks, cowboys and the smell of cow manure,” she replied.

      Her comment drew a wide smile full of straight, white teeth. “Sounds like lyrics to a country song.”

      “Megan,” Eva said sharply. “Run down to the water. Tell Adam it’s time for him to join us. That’s Adam Noble, our star actor. I’m sure even a small-town Texas girl like you knows who he is.”

      Megan had seen some of his movies, action-adventure flicks that required him to take off his shirt as many times as possible. Adam had a killer, athletic body still toned from his college quarterback days and a classically handsome face. The guy also had a habit—perhaps a hobby—of having flings with his leading ladies. Or so the grocery store tabloids reported.

      She nodded.

      Most women would call the actor hot, but she preferred guys who were more … cerebral. Guys like her best friend, Rob. Her Mr. Right, if ever one existed. All she had to do was wait it out until he realized she was his Ms. Right.

      A squawking noise sounded overhead. She looked up to see two seagulls. Their white feathers were almost lost against the cloudy sky. Very cool. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen this type of bird.

      “We don’t have all day,” Eva said.

      Megan ran down the deck’s staircase to the beach.

      Eva’s cackling laughter followed Megan onto the sand.

      Her cheeks burned. Compassion and understanding didn’t seem to exist in Hollywood. No one cared if she felt like the proverbial fish out of water, overwhelmed and exhausted. They only cared that she got the job done. If she couldn’t, ten others were waiting to take her place.

      Not. Going. To. Happen.

      She would do whatever it took to succeed in this business. Not that she had seen any costume designs other than those hanging on the walls, storyboards and drafting tables at the work space at the studio. She’d touched only clothing and fabric bolts needed by the staff. But she knew how each coworker took their coffee or tea, what they ordered for lunch and that “Firebreather,” Eva’s nickname, wasn’t an exaggeration.

      Megan’s tennis shoes sunk into the sand.

      Her internship was nothing like she thought it would be. Girl Friday seemed too glorified a term for what she did. That was run errands, emphasis on the running. Gophers got more respect than she did. And she was doing this all for free … for the experience.

      But paying her dues was required in the film industry. Costume designers worked their way up in the food chain. She had to start somewhere. Whatever she was doing here was better than being stuck back in Larkville and using her sewing ability to make alterations at the nearest dry cleaners. If only Rob had wanted her to move to Austin instead of encouraging her to take this internship …

      She stumbled over a piece of seaweed. Sticking her arms out to keep her balance, she managed to stay upright. No doubt she looked like an idiot. As usual. She was all limbs and hair. Always had been.

      A few people stood at the water’s edge. In spite of the gray sky, women wore tiny strips of fabric that showed off their toned and honey-gold tanned bodies. Megan would never have the nerve to wear a bikini like that even if the temperature had been warmer and the sun shining.

      Men wore board shorts and no shirts. Muscular physiques abounded. One thing was certain. The beach was a magnet for attractive men. But she’d still take Rob over any of them, even if he were thinner with not so many muscles. He wanted to spend time with her. He was always there to give advice, offer support and hang out with. Guys like him were hard to find.

      She looked at each of the men. None had Adam Noble’s trademark tousled brown hair and loose curls.

      Megan dug the toe of her shoe into the sand.

      Where could he be?

      She noticed everyone was looking at the water. A lone surfer rode a massive wave. He did a fancy move with his board. She thought he might wipe out, but he somehow stayed on his feet.

      Two women cheered. Another clapped. One man whistled.

      A different woman sighed. “Adam is so hot.”

      Megan studied the surfer, who wore some sort of wet suit. It didn’t take her long to realize Adam Noble was the one riding the wave. He cut back and forth on his board, across the rolling wave, doing tricks and inspiring oohs-and-aahs from the captivated crowd.

      Show-off.

      She wasn’t impressed. Okay, she would give him a few props for making the women drool and the men stare at him with envy. But Adam could have ridden the wave without doing so many risky moves. The guy had a starring role in a new feature film, one she would work on as part of her internship. He should be more careful, not out there endangering himself and possibly the entire production so he could perform for his adoring fans on such a big wave.

      Talk about an idiot.

      He СКАЧАТЬ