Love Unrehearsed
Page 165
He slid his leg over, tapping me in the foot. “Is that so?”
I fluffed the pillows under my head and nuzzled back into his side. “Yep.”
“Well then, I guess we’re tossing your birth control pills in the garbage.”
He caught me off guard. “You ready for all of that?”
He shrugged. “I’m ready for whatever life throws our way.”
“Good. Now open your gift already!” Ryan slid his thumb under the edge of the paper, tearing it off. “Gold paper, eh?”
“Yep. That’s what it is. Inside is your golden ticket, too.”
He shook the box, separating the lid. A tinge of panic seeped through me when he frowned at my gift.
“A script? You bought this?”
“Yep. TLC Productions owns it.” He examined it again. “This is that script you were so adamant about me pushing. Tar, no one wanted to back it.”
I shrugged. “That was then. We have a meeting with Jeff Westfield at Universal whenever you’re ready to put on pants again.”
Ryan was astonished. “You got producers on board?”
I grinned proudly. “Yep. Anna Garrett’s in on it, too. Word on the street is that several big-name directors are interested.” He grinned at me. “You were a busy girl.”
“Yes, I was. Sneaky.”
He pursed his lips. “You really want me to act again? After all we’ve been through?” I rubbed my hand over his heart, noting the subtle change of pitch in his voice. “Yes, I do. It’s who you are. It’s what feeds your soul. The rest . . . the rest is just details.”
Epilogue
Just Rewards Breathe—just breathe . . . Nope, holding my breath works better.
Okay, okay . . . I can do this. It’s not so bad now. Breathe again, slowly. In and out, in and out. I hope this doesn’t take too long.
I don’t know how much longer I have until it’s officially too late.
My, those curtains are ornate. That sure is a lot of fabric hanging down from the ceiling. I wonder if all those lights make it hot up there?
I can’t believe Johnny Depp is sitting right behind me. This place is packed with everyone who is anyone in this business. I wonder where Bill and Ellen are sitting? I’m glad they’re here in the building somewhere.
Save them another trip.
Oh damn, here comes another one. Hold on. Oh wow that freakin’ hurts! Breathe through it, just breathe. One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand.
Why now? You couldn’t wait one more day . . . even a few more hours? Impatient little bugger—just like your father.
Breathe through your mouth, Taryn. No one will notice if you don’t make it look obvious.
Should I tell him?
I probably should.
If I say something now, he’s going to freak. He’s already freaking out. No, don’t say anything—not yet. I can make it. But will I be able to make it to the car?
Count. Need to count. Why didn’t I wear a watch? Oh yeah, I have on this one-hundred-thousand-dollar diamond cuff bracelet on loan from Harry Winston.
Count the value of diamonds I’m wearing . . . bracelet—one hundred thousand, necklace with drop pendant two one hundred thousand, heavy earrings pulling on my earlobes three one hundred thousand . . .
just breathe.
Okay, they are getting closer together.
Those last two were less than three minutes apart. Tell him.
“Ryan?” I squeaked. “Honey, um, how much longer, do you think?” I adjusted my sitting position.
He looked at his watch that I got him for Christmas. “Maybe ten more minutes. Why? Are you nervous?”
“No,” I breathed out, feigning a smile.
“Not nervous.”
“Tar, you’re sweating. Are you okay?” He turned his body to face me.
I breathed out through my clenched teeth.
“Bad timing.”
His eyes opened wide. “Timing?”
“Yep—a few days ahead of schedule.”
“Are you saying it’s time? Like now is right now?”
“I can make it. But after they make the announcement . . . Mmm.” Take quick shallow breaths. Oh shit, that hurts. I hope I don’t stain this four-thousand-dollar custom gown.
“When did they start?” he asked, trying to remain calm but not succeeding.
“Earlier,” I replied.
“While we were out on the red carpet?”
“Before that,” I whispered, trying not to moan from the pain. “When she was doing my hair and makeup.”
I fluffed the pillows under my head and nuzzled back into his side. “Yep.”
“Well then, I guess we’re tossing your birth control pills in the garbage.”
He caught me off guard. “You ready for all of that?”
He shrugged. “I’m ready for whatever life throws our way.”
“Good. Now open your gift already!” Ryan slid his thumb under the edge of the paper, tearing it off. “Gold paper, eh?”
“Yep. That’s what it is. Inside is your golden ticket, too.”
He shook the box, separating the lid. A tinge of panic seeped through me when he frowned at my gift.
“A script? You bought this?”
“Yep. TLC Productions owns it.” He examined it again. “This is that script you were so adamant about me pushing. Tar, no one wanted to back it.”
I shrugged. “That was then. We have a meeting with Jeff Westfield at Universal whenever you’re ready to put on pants again.”
Ryan was astonished. “You got producers on board?”
I grinned proudly. “Yep. Anna Garrett’s in on it, too. Word on the street is that several big-name directors are interested.” He grinned at me. “You were a busy girl.”
“Yes, I was. Sneaky.”
He pursed his lips. “You really want me to act again? After all we’ve been through?” I rubbed my hand over his heart, noting the subtle change of pitch in his voice. “Yes, I do. It’s who you are. It’s what feeds your soul. The rest . . . the rest is just details.”
Epilogue
Just Rewards Breathe—just breathe . . . Nope, holding my breath works better.
Okay, okay . . . I can do this. It’s not so bad now. Breathe again, slowly. In and out, in and out. I hope this doesn’t take too long.
I don’t know how much longer I have until it’s officially too late.
My, those curtains are ornate. That sure is a lot of fabric hanging down from the ceiling. I wonder if all those lights make it hot up there?
I can’t believe Johnny Depp is sitting right behind me. This place is packed with everyone who is anyone in this business. I wonder where Bill and Ellen are sitting? I’m glad they’re here in the building somewhere.
Save them another trip.
Oh damn, here comes another one. Hold on. Oh wow that freakin’ hurts! Breathe through it, just breathe. One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand.
Why now? You couldn’t wait one more day . . . even a few more hours? Impatient little bugger—just like your father.
Breathe through your mouth, Taryn. No one will notice if you don’t make it look obvious.
Should I tell him?
I probably should.
If I say something now, he’s going to freak. He’s already freaking out. No, don’t say anything—not yet. I can make it. But will I be able to make it to the car?
Count. Need to count. Why didn’t I wear a watch? Oh yeah, I have on this one-hundred-thousand-dollar diamond cuff bracelet on loan from Harry Winston.
Count the value of diamonds I’m wearing . . . bracelet—one hundred thousand, necklace with drop pendant two one hundred thousand, heavy earrings pulling on my earlobes three one hundred thousand . . .
just breathe.
Okay, they are getting closer together.
Those last two were less than three minutes apart. Tell him.
“Ryan?” I squeaked. “Honey, um, how much longer, do you think?” I adjusted my sitting position.
He looked at his watch that I got him for Christmas. “Maybe ten more minutes. Why? Are you nervous?”
“No,” I breathed out, feigning a smile.
“Not nervous.”
“Tar, you’re sweating. Are you okay?” He turned his body to face me.
I breathed out through my clenched teeth.
“Bad timing.”
His eyes opened wide. “Timing?”
“Yep—a few days ahead of schedule.”
“Are you saying it’s time? Like now is right now?”
“I can make it. But after they make the announcement . . . Mmm.” Take quick shallow breaths. Oh shit, that hurts. I hope I don’t stain this four-thousand-dollar custom gown.
“When did they start?” he asked, trying to remain calm but not succeeding.
“Earlier,” I replied.
“While we were out on the red carpet?”
“Before that,” I whispered, trying not to moan from the pain. “When she was doing my hair and makeup.”
