Love Unscripted

  “Kelly, they post on the Internet where I’m having dinner for God’s sake. The attention I can handle; the obsessive crap is something altogether different,” Ryan defended.

  “No, I understand. When my show first aired, our cast went through something similar. We were followed and reported on, and of course we were all sleeping with each other too! I think in one week it was reported that I slept with four different actors from the show. While I was in the makeup trailer, supposedly I was getting lucky at the same time! One of the magazines reported that I had a weeklong affair with this one actor when in reality I was at home with the flu. Cal knows. We had just started seeing each other.”

  “So how do the magazines get away with printing all the lies? Can’t you sue or something?” I asked.

  “I wish. It’s the lies that sell the magazines,” Kelly uttered sadly. “The bigger the lie, the more money they make. And if they get some racy pictures too – that could turn a hefty profit for the photographer.”

  “We had our picture taken a lot tonight,” I murmured. Ryan squeezed my hand again.

  “Just be prepared, Sweetheart. Those pictures of us are going to be all over the tabloids, Internet, you name it. There’s going to be outlandish captions under those pictures too, like when we both cleared off your windshield? If you moved your arm too fast to sweep one of the papers off, they’ll print that you were having a jealous fit.” He rubbed his forehead. “Just don’t read them.”

  He looked me in the eyes. “Remember what I told you when we were fishing? You can’t believe anything you hear, read, or see. If something needs to be clarified for the public, I have a Publicist.”

  “Can I ask a stupid question? Are you even allowed to have a girlfriend while doing these Seaside movies?” I felt dumb just for asking, but after what Suzanne said I wanted to know.

  Ryan looked at me like I was crazy. “What?” he asked.

  “Are you under some contract or anything that says you’re not allowed to be seen in public with a girlfriend?”

  “No.” He shook his head and squinted at me. “Where would you get an idea like that?”

  “Something Suzanne said.” I shrugged.

  “What did she say?”

  “She said that the studio executives will be upset once they discover you’re seeing me - that they wouldn’t allow it.”

  Ryan abruptly sat forward; the legs of his chair squeaked on the tiled floor. “She said what?” His eyes were wide.

  “She said exactly what I just said, and also that if you stay single, your fan base will be higher and your movies will make more money. But if the public knows you’re involved with someone, you may lose fans, your movies won’t make as much money, and the studio executives won’t allow that to happen.”

  “Is this another reason why you were so upset last Sunday? Because of these lies?” Ryan asked.

  “Well, it was part of it. Suzanne made it seem like some studio executive was going to break us up first.”

  Kelly gasped.

  “That’s completely absurd!” he muttered. “They can’t do that.” He looked at Cal for reassurance. Cal didn’t say a word; his head was swaying back and forth in disbelief.

  “So what other lies did she tell you?” Ryan’s look frightened me. I could tell he was angry.

  I looked down at the table, hoping to dismiss this entire conversation, but Ryan squeezed my hand again.

  “Taryn, what else did she say?”

  I took a deep breath and looked at Cal and Kelly. I didn’t want to say the rest of what she said to me in front of them. “I’ll tell you later,” I said quietly to Ryan.

  “No, I want to know now!” he urged.

  “I always said that girl was trouble,” Kelly interjected.

  “She basically called you a womanizer, but in many more words,” I whispered.

  “What? She called me what?” His eyes scrunched up in confusion. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  I stared at my dessert plate. “She said that you sleep with different women in every town. You tell them what they want to hear so you can get some, and you leave a trail of broken hearts behind you.”

  I locked my eyes on his. “She also said that you lie to women to make them feel like they’re your perfect match – that you’re a talented actor and a gifted liar and I was just another fool to fall for it. Stupid American girls… Then she said that once you leave to do your next movie and find your next conquest, you’ll forget all about me.”

  Cal started to laugh. Apparently my comment was amusing to him.

  “Oh my God! No way!” Kelly shouted. “Taryn, that’s such a lie! Ryan is the complete opposite of that!”

  Ryan’s face turned red. “She’s a fucking piece of work, that girl. Why didn’t you tell me all of this before?” He was definitely angry.

  “Because I was scared and I didn’t want to cause problems for you.” I hid my eyes under my hand. “I even thought that if I let you go, then you wouldn’t feel obligated and somehow you’d be better off. You have enough stress to deal with without me ruining your career. The last thing I want is to be another name on your stress list.”

  “No wonder you were crying so hard. I went downstairs for fifteen minutes; when I left you with Marie everything was fine, and when I came back, you were falling to pieces and breaking up with me. It all makes sense now.”

  “You tried to break up with him at the party?” Kelly shrieked in horror.

  Ryan nodded at her and then glanced back to me.

  “I’m going to rip her throat out when I see her,” he spit through his teeth.

  Thoughts of his career and his movie being jeopardized because of me flashed through my mind.

  “That’s why I didn’t tell you,” I muttered, feeling guilty.

  “Taryn!” he started.

  “Ryan, you have a multi-million dollar movie riding on the fact that you have to get along with her. And there’s a third movie which you are under contract to finish. I don’t want to be the catalyst to dissension.”

  “She’s right, Ryan,” Kelly agreed. “As much as I despise that girl, you do have contractual obligations. And having you blow up at her in front of everyone would not be a good idea.”

  “Why is she doing this to me?” His fingers clenched his hair. “We used to get along so well.”

  “She obviously wants to keep other women away from you, so either she’s in love with you or…” Then it dawned on me. “Or she’s fending off the competition for a friend.”

  He looked at me and it clicked. “Francesca,” he murmured.

  His eyes flashed over to Cal and Kelly, who were both staring back in surprise.

  “She knows about my slip with Francesca. I’m not keeping any secrets from Taryn. And just so you believe me…” He looked over at Cal. “Cal, would you please tell Taryn when, where, and why.”

  “That’s not necessary,” I interjected.

  Cal cleared his throat. “Well, I don’t know about the why, Ryan, only you can answer that one. But it’s been over a year now since…then.”

  Cal focused on me. “We were in Maine filming the first movie. I remember it clearly like it was yesterday.” Something he recalled seemed to trouble him.

  “Ryan had his first traumatic fan encounter. I believe you were completely overwhelmed,” he stated directly. “Fans were everywhere screaming. We went into a club and some girl grabbed him around the neck. Her boyfriend either tried to remove her off of Ryan or he took a swing at him – I’m not sure, but Ryan ended up getting punched in the face.” The thought made his lips curl in disgust.

  “Anyway, we tried to calm him down; he spent a few hours in the corner tossing back shots of whiskey.”

  “Fran was always sniffing around his trailer; it was no secret that she had a crush on him,” Kelly added.

  “But for the longest time, he just ignored her. Personally I think you were home-sick and freaked out,” Cal said.

  “A lot of both actually
.” Ryan grimaced.

  The way Ryan spoke, I imagined he was quite lonely when he gave in to Francesca.

  “After that one time, Fran started to act even stranger. Things have been weird ever since. And since we’ve gotten back to filming the second movie, the two girls have been inseparable,” Cal told me.

  “Who was the girl that sold the story to the tabloid?” Kelly asked.

  “That was the girl I was seeing from the theatre back home. You met her once when we shot the scenes in Acadia, remember? She came to Maine that one time. Who knows, maybe the bitch sisters got to her too? Ah, it doesn’t matter. She was more concerned about hooking up with my agent and getting me to make calls for her than she was about our relationship.” He shrugged the thought from his mind.

  “I’m going to have to deal with this,” Ryan muttered. He chewed his lip – pondering again.

  “Ryan, just let it go,” I advised. “Anything you do is going to make things worse. Just do your movies, play your part. A few years from now this will all be behind you.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.” He gave me a brief smile and squeezed my hand.

  I was glad he agreed. Suzanne seemed to have more than enough reasons to despise me.

  Chapter 16 - Fused

  Ryan held my hand as he drove us home; our arms rested on the center console.

  “I really like driving this car,” he commented. “It handles great.”

  “You look like you enjoy driving this car. And I’m enjoying getting driven around for once. I’m so used to driving that I never get to really look at the scenery.”

  “We need to get the windows tinted darker though. That way the photographers can’t get too many daytime driving shots of you,” he grumbled.

  I never gave any consideration to thoughts like that, although I never had to worry about having my picture taken either. Still, I loved hearing him say ‘we.’

  He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. “I never get to drive. I’m always jumping in the back seat of cars instead.”

  “Or hurled into the back seat of cars,” I added.

  He looked over at me quickly. “Hurled?”

  “I saw you on television once. You were getting carried through a crowd by a few big security guys. It looked like they just tossed you into the car.”

  “When was that?” he asked.

  “When you were in L.A. a couple of weeks ago. I panicked when I saw how they man-handled you.”

  I felt his hand squeeze mine tighter. “Your car was completely surrounded by screaming fans; they were pounding on your windows. I worried for a moment that they were going to break through the glass. That was the night when you first called me, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes.” He raised my hand to his lips. “And that was the night you calmed me down. I remember crawling under the blankets to talk to you.”

  “I remember wishing that you weren’t on the other side of the country,” I whispered.

  “Guess we both got our wish.” He grinned.

  He turned onto Mulberry Street; we were only a block away and I had my cell phone in hand, ready to call the police. Parked across the street from the pub were some SUVs, a van, and a few cars. There were a few photographers on the sidewalk, but not a large crowd like I had feared.

  Ryan looked up and down the street. “Ready to make a run for it?”

  I was relieved to see my parking spot free of love notes and trash. “Make sure you pay Jason well,” I requested quietly.

  Ryan kept me on the inside of his arm, close to the buildings instead of the street. We sprint-walked down the sidewalk. It didn’t take long for the paparazzi to wake up and start clicking.

  A few photographers jumped out of the vans, clicking their cameras fiercely. I just focused on the lines on the sidewalk and the distance from my feet to the door.

  For one second I let my eyes glance up further to check for danger; that’s when I noticed the curly-haired, gap-toothed girl running towards us. She had things in her hands, no doubt a picture or two for him to sign.

  I thought it peculiar; all girls travel in packs. You would rarely see a girl without a fellow girlfriend tagging along… just like Suzanne and Francesca. But this girl seemed to be alone.

  People were yelling “Ryan, Ryan” and even a few times yelled “Ms. Mitchell” or “Taryn” to get me to look, but I copied Ryan’s stance and kept my focus on getting to the door. Some of the photographers were trying to be nice, asking us if we enjoyed our evening. Ryan didn’t answer. He tucked his chin down to his chest and I felt his grip on my waist get tighter. I had my key ready in my right hand.

  The curly-haired girl reached us before we got to my door. She almost lunged at Ryan, and I gasped at her forward behavior. He instinctively raised his right arm to block her and he turned his body in my direction. I could feel his panic level matching mine.

  “Whoa, whoa!” he cautioned her.

  She started babbling about how much she loves his movies and his acting abilities. He graciously slipped the marker out of her hand and scribbled his autograph inside her book, trying to be cordial. A few other annoying men and women stepped up to get autographs too, and Ryan signed his name as quickly as he could.

  I grimaced as I stuck my key in the door; I hoped that their pathetic day was complete now that they disturbed him and got his signature on a picture. I twisted the key in the lock and grabbed the sleeve of his jacket with my other hand, pulling him through my doorway.

  We walked up my apartment steps in silence; both of us slightly traumatized from the rush that followed a simple act of just coming home from a nice dinner with friends. I only turned on one light in my living room; I could imagine all the people down on the sidewalk staring up at my windows, analyzing the shadows in my apartment. I wonder if these shades are opaque enough? Do I need heavy curtains too?

  I hung my coat up in the closet and picked his coat up to hang it up too.

  “Babe, do you have your phone or is it in your coat?” I patted his pockets to feel for it. He was staring off at one of the closed windows, deep in thought. My words pulled his attention back to me. I smiled at him, but his mind was a million miles away.

  I went into the kitchen and pulled a bottle out of the wine fridge; a two-year-old bottle of ice wine - my favorite. I poured two glasses; I figured he could use a nightcap and I wanted him to try one of the wines from our vineyards. He was sitting in the single chair in the living room; his head was in his hands.

  I crouched down in front of him, drawing his eyes to look at me. “Hey, are you okay?” I handed the glass to him.

  “I guess I’m just tired,” he murmured. I didn’t buy it. He was troubled again, and I was wise enough now to know why. Several ideas of how to distract him danced through my mind.

  I hurried down the hallway with my newly formed plan. I would need a few things and a few minutes alone. After taking a thorough moment to freshen up in the bathroom, I locked my bedroom door and changed my clothes.

  This will take his mind off his worries, I thought to myself as a buckled the dainty leather strap attached to my shoes around my ankle. Once I was complete, I made my approach down the dark hallway, stopping just where the light met the darkness. Ryan looked up and gasped.

  “You like?” I asked, turning slightly for him to get a new view of the alluring black undergarments I was barely wearing.

  He sprang out of the chair like someone set him on fire and crossed the distance between us in three strides. I combed his hair back with my fingers and softly bit his earlobe in my teeth.

  “Want to go violate me on a pool table?” I whispered in his ear before pulling his lips to mine.

  The sound of people yelling at each other startled me from my sleep. My head jumped off my pillow as my eyes tried to focus in the morning light.

  “Huh, what’s wrong?” Ryan mumbled, still mostly asleep.

  I suppose I woke him when I flinched. I heard truck brakes squeal and doors slam; the noises were comin
g from the alley.

  I crept over to the window on my tippy-toes; the wood floor was cold. Outside, there were several men with cameras arguing with the driver of one of the delivery trucks, but I couldn’t see the entire alley from this angle as part of the fire escape was in the way. I pulled the blind back another half inch to get a better view.

  “Honey, put some clothes on first if you’re going to peek out the windows,” Ryan muttered. He was rubbing his eyes with his fingers.

  I grabbed one of his T-shirts from his open bag that was on the floor and slipped it over my head. The cotton held his scent, and although I liked his manly smell, this shirt desperately needed to be washed.

  “What’s happening out there?” he asked. I was still trying to figure it out.

  “There are a few photographers arguing with a delivery truck driver.” I observed arms being raised over heads; it seemed that the alleyway discussion was getting heated. “There are cars parked in the alley; I guess the truck can’t get through. They can’t park there.”

  It was apparent that the paparazzi were camping out by my doors, waiting for any sign of Ryan Christensen. I thought about calling the police but I didn’t need to; a cruiser just turned down the alley.

  “The cops are here,” I muttered. Two police officers exited the car and I noticed that they both had their hands hovering over their guns. Arms continued to wave in the air as both parties argued their sides to the cops. “I guess the paparazzi can’t read the ‘No Parking’ signs.”

  “Arrest them all!” Ryan boomed, curling his hand underneath his face on the pillow.

  His comment made me smile.

  “Baby, come back to bed,” he whined.

  I looked at him then looked at the doorway; might as well hit the bathroom while I’m up. He saw my hesitation and decided to race me. If he hadn’t bumped me into the hallway wall I would have won, but he let me go ahead of him anyway. While I made a pot of coffee, I heard the shower turn on.