All Over You Read Free Page B

to reprise his role on
Ocean Boulevard
after a six-year absence, she’d had a lust crush on him a mile wide.
    Claudia would fall about laughing. Probably Sadie would, as well. Not
at
her, but at the irony of the situation — Grace Wellington, founding member of the Nothing But Contempt For Men Club, had a soft spot for the show’s biggest horn-dog. It was too, too ironic. And faintly embarrassing, really. She should know better, she really should. The man was a known womanizer, he was paid to play make-believe and he lived a frivolous, pointless life. In short, he represented about a million of the things she liked least in men. There really wasn’t anything admirable about him at all, in fact, apart from his superb body and gorgeous face. Her crush was absolutely a manifestation of lust. But, somehow, some way, no matter how many times she chastised herself for her bad taste in virtual lovers, he kept on sliding into her fantasy bed and taking her in his arms. Which was why she’d never confided in her friends. And, after all, it wasn’t as though she knew everything about Sadie and Claudia’s sex lives, right? It was nobody’s business but her own. It was utterly harmless, a private indulgence that affected no one save herself.
    It helped that she’d never met the man. Sure, she’d passed him in the corridors when she’d been across town at the studios for meetings, but she’d never exchanged actual words with him. There was an unspoken divide between the writing team and the cast and crew — it wasn’t just about being in different locations, it had been the same on every show Grace had worked on — so it wasn’t particularly notable that they’d never been introduced. But she didn’t need to meet him to know what he was like — she knew his type.
    Yep, Sadie and Claudia would definitely lose a lung laughing if they knew.
    Sliding between the sheets, Grace set the alarm and switched the light off. Her body was humming with satisfaction. As usual, virtual Mac had been the perfect lover: flawless technique, intuitive, voracious. Best of all, he came with absolutely no strings attached and she didn’t have to wonder when he’d call again or listen to his lame-ass excuses for why he couldn’t stay the night.
    And he would never, ever cheat on her.
    The perfect man, indeed.
    Smiling smugly, she fell asleep.
    M AC H ARRISON GRUNTED with disgust as he threw the script he’d been reading across the room.
    Drivel, absolute drivel. How anyone expected him to say those lines of dialogue with any sincerity was beyond him. Reaching for his beer bottle, he realized it was empty. He was about to push himself off the couch to grab another brewski from the fridge when he registered that there were another three empty bottles lined up on his coffee table. Four beers. And he was alone. And it was midnight on a Sunday evening. Not quite time to check into the Betty Ford center, but still…Perhaps it was time to switch to soda water.
    He sank back onto the couch and ran a hand through his hair. He felt like crap. He’d been sleeping way too much lately and spending too much time on his own — probably because his libido was nonexistent. Depression tended to do that to a guy. His gym routine was about the only thing keeping him sane at the moment.
    He stared at the discarded script where it lay crumpled on the ground a few feet away. He had five scenes he needed to memorize for tomorrow’s shoot, but he couldn’t make himself pick it up again.
    Jesus, he needed another beer. Which was a pretty good reason not to have one. Mac had seen his fair share of actors succumb to drug and alcohol addictions over the years. He didn’t plan on becoming one of them. But he also knew he had to do something because he couldn’t continue living his life the way he was.
    It had been a mistake coming back to
Ocean Boulevard
. The moment he’d gotten over his relief at having a regular paycheck again he’d known it. He’d been