The Trouble with Marrying a Movie Star Read Online Free
Author: ZN Willett
without using my relationship for free publicity.
After speaking to her, I was already physically exhausted, and now was also mentally drained. All I wanted to do when I arrived was to crawl in bed with Andrew, and sleep for a week.
Connor and I breezed through customs, and the car that Andrew had sent was waiting for us outside baggage claim. I wanted to see Andrew right away, and Connor was kind enough to catch a cab to the hotel. Wade would be on set, so Connor, "allowed" me to go without a chaperone.
It was my first time on an actual live Hollywood production. As soon as we were cleared through security, we drove into a makeshift town out of the sixties. It was as if we had stepped back in time. Classic cars lined the streets alongside soda fountain shops, drug stores, and dress shops. People were dressed in vintage clothing, and their make-up and hairstyles were from that time. Women had bouffant hairdos and men had their hair slicked back. Cameras and equipment were everywhere, as people stood around talking or smoking.
The driver pulled up in-between a row of trailers. I grabbed my purse along with the toiletry bag, and stepped out of the car and was immediately greeted by Amy.
"Andria, it's nice seeing you again." The tanned brunette said unenthusiastically, as her blue eyes squinted at me.
"It’s great being here." I purposely added sugar to my voice. The woman didn't like me. She had made that clear from day one—without cause—and she was still Andrew's assistant.
For now.
She smiled. "I hear the paparazzi have been harassing you. This lifestyle isn’t for everyone. Makes you think if it's all worth it."
I chuckled to myself. She was a piece of work. You would have thought that she was the movie star. "Andrew is very much worth it." I fake smiled, bigger. "Where is he?"
"He's shooting across the lot."
We stood in silence looking at each other for a moment, before I asked, "Well, can you bring me to him?" It was more of a demand than a question.
Amy turned quickly on her blue stilettos and swished ahead of me in her tight black pencil skirt. I couldn't help but notice the tight blue shirt, which housed her ample bosoms that spilled out of it. Isn't she cold? It was winter! I looked down at my purple sweater set and jeans, and thought that maybe I should have changed clothes.
As we walked, people stared. I assumed they were gawking at Amy until I heard my name whispered from one of the extra's mouth. "That's Andrew Hughes's girlfriend." I looked at them, and they quickly looked away. People walked by saying, "hello" and "hi" as we continued to walk across the lot.
We entered into a makeshift store, and inside was a warehouse with green walls. People were everywhere and nowhere at the same time. They stood still, walked a few steps, stopped and walked back. It was weird, yet interesting how they were all unified. It looked as if it was supposed to be a lobby of a building. Men had briefcases in their hands, and women had pads of paper or coffee in theirs. I heard someone say, "cut," and they all relaxed and walked back to their original spots.
Eyes followed us as we maneuvered through the crowd, but they all stayed in character. "Andria, you can have a seat here—"
"A. P. Moore." A male voice shouted from the distance.
I turned around to see a dark, handsome man, with curly black hair. "This is the director, Christopher Bryant."
He walked up, took my hand, and placed a kiss on top. "I have heard a lot about you."
"She's taken." I heard from behind me, as I turned my head to see Andrew walking toward me.
He had on a black sixties style suit and was wearing a hat. He looked amazing, and my heart beat faster with each of his steps.
Our eyes stayed locked as he approached. "That's my girlfriend you're kissing."
"I know exactly who she is." Christopher winked, as he placed another kiss on my hand, before placing it in Andrew's.
"How was your flight?" Andrew asked, before placing a firm kiss on
After speaking to her, I was already physically exhausted, and now was also mentally drained. All I wanted to do when I arrived was to crawl in bed with Andrew, and sleep for a week.
Connor and I breezed through customs, and the car that Andrew had sent was waiting for us outside baggage claim. I wanted to see Andrew right away, and Connor was kind enough to catch a cab to the hotel. Wade would be on set, so Connor, "allowed" me to go without a chaperone.
It was my first time on an actual live Hollywood production. As soon as we were cleared through security, we drove into a makeshift town out of the sixties. It was as if we had stepped back in time. Classic cars lined the streets alongside soda fountain shops, drug stores, and dress shops. People were dressed in vintage clothing, and their make-up and hairstyles were from that time. Women had bouffant hairdos and men had their hair slicked back. Cameras and equipment were everywhere, as people stood around talking or smoking.
The driver pulled up in-between a row of trailers. I grabbed my purse along with the toiletry bag, and stepped out of the car and was immediately greeted by Amy.
"Andria, it's nice seeing you again." The tanned brunette said unenthusiastically, as her blue eyes squinted at me.
"It’s great being here." I purposely added sugar to my voice. The woman didn't like me. She had made that clear from day one—without cause—and she was still Andrew's assistant.
For now.
She smiled. "I hear the paparazzi have been harassing you. This lifestyle isn’t for everyone. Makes you think if it's all worth it."
I chuckled to myself. She was a piece of work. You would have thought that she was the movie star. "Andrew is very much worth it." I fake smiled, bigger. "Where is he?"
"He's shooting across the lot."
We stood in silence looking at each other for a moment, before I asked, "Well, can you bring me to him?" It was more of a demand than a question.
Amy turned quickly on her blue stilettos and swished ahead of me in her tight black pencil skirt. I couldn't help but notice the tight blue shirt, which housed her ample bosoms that spilled out of it. Isn't she cold? It was winter! I looked down at my purple sweater set and jeans, and thought that maybe I should have changed clothes.
As we walked, people stared. I assumed they were gawking at Amy until I heard my name whispered from one of the extra's mouth. "That's Andrew Hughes's girlfriend." I looked at them, and they quickly looked away. People walked by saying, "hello" and "hi" as we continued to walk across the lot.
We entered into a makeshift store, and inside was a warehouse with green walls. People were everywhere and nowhere at the same time. They stood still, walked a few steps, stopped and walked back. It was weird, yet interesting how they were all unified. It looked as if it was supposed to be a lobby of a building. Men had briefcases in their hands, and women had pads of paper or coffee in theirs. I heard someone say, "cut," and they all relaxed and walked back to their original spots.
Eyes followed us as we maneuvered through the crowd, but they all stayed in character. "Andria, you can have a seat here—"
"A. P. Moore." A male voice shouted from the distance.
I turned around to see a dark, handsome man, with curly black hair. "This is the director, Christopher Bryant."
He walked up, took my hand, and placed a kiss on top. "I have heard a lot about you."
"She's taken." I heard from behind me, as I turned my head to see Andrew walking toward me.
He had on a black sixties style suit and was wearing a hat. He looked amazing, and my heart beat faster with each of his steps.
Our eyes stayed locked as he approached. "That's my girlfriend you're kissing."
"I know exactly who she is." Christopher winked, as he placed another kiss on my hand, before placing it in Andrew's.
"How was your flight?" Andrew asked, before placing a firm kiss on
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