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Capture, Page 2

Rachel Van Dyken

CHAPTER TWO

  Lincoln

  She had to be the most awkward person I'd ever encountered in my entire life. Granted, I was only twenty-two, had hardly lived, but I was Hollywood through and through.

  I knew weird.

  I was surrounded by it on a daily basis.

  And that girl? It wasn't the fact that she didn't talk because she was nervous or just didn't give a flying rat's ass about me — I could get past that. It was the simple oddity that she wanted to.

  But chose not to.

  And because I was running on two hours sleep, I'd spent the past few minutes fantasizing what her voice would sound like.

  Jo-Jo was waiting for me in the lobby when I jumped off the elevator.

  "There you are!" she screeched loudly, enough so that my ears rang a bit while my skin crawled like I was having an allergic reaction to something. "Where have you been?"

  Unlike Dani, Jo-Jo talked. A lot. And her voice? Well, the only way I could relate the sound her lips emitted was to think of the nearest butcher knifing a pig.

  She laughed.

  Maybe two pigs.

  Another laugh.

  Or five.

  Why was she here again?

  "So…" Her nails dug into my forearm. "… my agent says we just need a few pictures to circulate. Then I'll be out of your hair, baby."

  Oh, and she called everything and everyone baby.

  It wasn't cute.

  Or endearing.

  Or even slightly funny.

  It was irritating, like her voice, and there I was again wondering about Dani. The girl with bright eyes and soft lips.

  The girl who was mute.

  "I hate the ocean, fish, crowds of people, and coffee shops that try too hard to be local and quaint." I was getting jerked toward the door, and why the hell was she listing things she hated?

  "Oh…" Another tug on my arm as my arm hair rebelled and pulled back as if repelled by her touch. "… and I hate any restaurant that claims to be organic yet still cooks with non-organic oils."

  I was going to speak — would have, but she just kept talking.

  "And I think it would be extremely off-putting for us to take a few pictures at the mall. I mean, what about the poor people?"

  Because poor people had no need for food or clothing? Where else did she think they bought and paid for their daily needs?

  "Listen…" I pried myself free. "… I think I forgot something back in Jaymeson's room. Why don't you text me where you want to go, and I'll meet you there."

  She began to pout again, her Botoxed lips pressing together in one giant, swollen blur.

  "Besides…" I coughed into my hand. "… my truck still has all my shit in it so—"

  "Truck?" She spat the word loud enough for the bellhop's head to turn in our direction.

  His eyebrows rose and he took a few steps back, out of the line of fire. Smart man.

  "You drive a truck?"

  "Yes." I nodded slowly. "I mean it's only twenty years old, hardly ancient, and sure, it has a missing windshield wiper and sometimes sputters out large plumes of exhaust at the stoplight but I got a great deal on her down at the Jalopy Jungle and—"

  Jo-Jo held up her hand. "You know what? I think I will meet you, later today, maybe tomorrow even, I have a really busy schedule over the next few days, and since you'll be shooting some of your first scenes on Friday…" She kept walking backward, shoving her large Prada sunglasses onto her face. "Be in touch."

  I waited until she disappeared, then nodded to the valet.

  A few minutes later, he pulled up in my truck.

  Not an old jalopy junker.

  But a brand new, fully loaded Ford with enough bells and whistles that I actually preferred sleeping in it over my trailer.

  "Will that be all, sir?" the valet asked.

  "Yup." I handed him a twenty and got in the truck but didn't take off because I saw a flash of blonde hair.

  Dani was walking out of the hotel lobby. Her white Converses were clean — too clean — giving off the idea that she didn't do anything outside. Either that, or she was one of those people who wiped off her shoes before they put them back into the closet.

  Her skinny jeans were ripped at the knees — not in a fashionable way, but almost like she'd taken scissors in an attempt to make shorts, then decided against it.

  Shoulders slumped, her black T-shirt hung loosely against her body. Did the girl eat? Did she do anything at all? And why the hell was it suddenly bothering me that she looked too skinny? That black circles marred the skin beneath her eyes. Yeah, I really needed to sleep more, because the last time I'd obsessed about a girl this much was in the fourth grade when I'd pulled Mary Bailey's pigtails and asked if she wanted my Cool Ranch Doritos.

  I didn't obsess over women.

  Because women surrounded me. Constantly. If I wanted one, all I needed to do was speak up and take my pick — it wasn't arrogance speaking, just a simple fact of life — which is why I stayed blessedly single and kept any relationship I had on a twenty-four-hour basis. Fun was shared, and then the shared fun ended. Both sides satisfied. Story over.

  I frowned and looked at my watch. It was nearing six at night. Technically she wasn't supposed to start until tomorrow, but my schedule had just freed up.

  I quickly sent off a text.

  Linc: How good are you with packing?

  Dani reached for her phone and stared at it, then texted back.

  Dani: Who is this?

  Linc: Your new boss. Look left.

  She glanced up.

  I waved.

  Slowly, she walked over to my running truck, her eyes on the tires rather than my face as she methodically typed a message.

  Dani: Hmm, I was told never to get into a car with strangers.

  I burst out laughing. "Thank God you have a sense of humor."

  My phone buzzed. I looked down.

  Dani: I wasn't kidding.

  I slumped forward just as a smile teased her lips, transforming her face from sad to triumphant.

  "Alright…" I laughed softly. "… get in. Promise I won't bite, nor will I tell."

  My text alert went off as she climbed into the passenger seat.

  Dani: Tell?

  I tossed the phone into the cup holder and waited for her to buckle her seat belt before I answered. "That you have a really pretty smile."

  Her high cheekbones flushed with color as she quickly averted her gaze.

  "What?" I pulled out of the hotel and into downtown traffic. "No text?"

  When we were at the stop light, my phone buzzed.

  Dani: Don't text and drive, asshole. Stop reading! The light's green!

  Naturally, the light had turned green. I cursed and dropped the phone, then stole a glance at her. "You're going to be a handful, aren't you?"

  She shrugged innocently.

  "I'm onto you, you know."

  She didn't answer. I didn't expect her to, but the yearning was still there. Maybe because she was a challenge. And God knew I hadn't had one of those in forever. Huh, maybe since the Doritos incident?

  "Just because you aren't talking doesn't mean your brain isn't firing on all cylinders. I'm sure you have some killer conversations with yourself, and, lucky for you, I'm an expert at body language. So although you may be quiet, I know your secrets."

  She froze.

  "I made you smile," I announced with a cocky grin. "Which means, today? I win."