Star Turn by Parker Avrile

Author:Parker Avrile [Avrile, Parker]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Paris April Press
Published: 2017-04-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

TYLER

Tyler was the good-looking best friend of the fat lead. When did fat male leads get to be a thing? Once upon a time, the arch of Tyler's brows and the curve of his cheekbones would have been all the qualifications he needed to be the star. He would've fucking glowed in black and white, his peaches-and-cream complexion not needing the kiss of Max Factor Five demanded of other, less perfect beauties.

It was a closed set, and almost they didn't let Tyler in. His credentials weren't right.

“There's no Tyler Martin on my list.” The guard, a former NFL linebacker, had softened around the waist, but his three hundred and twenty pounds were still nothing to joke about. “I'm going to have to ask you to leave.”

“You're making a big mistake. My father's Anderson Downe.”

The guard's smooth brow didn't crinkle for an instant. “I don't care if your father's Donald Fucking Trump, you're not getting in if you're not on my list.”

“You can call him.”

The guard had signaled somehow. Two other guards were coming. They wore guns. Fuck. What had Tyler expected? No one was going to be the asshole who bothered Anderson Downe with an unscheduled phone call.

He turned away, then turned back. “Wait. I forgot. They changed my name for some bullshit reason. Tyler Montana. I'm Tyler Montana.”

The armed guards paused. A tiny dent formed between the linebacker's eyes. “At this point, you're going to have to show me some identification.”

That meant, yes, Tyler Montana was on the list.

He pulled out the false identification from the Eric Shandon job. The guard took the driver's license from Tyler's hands and held it high, turning it in the sunlight as if to inspect the hologram from every angle. “Fine,” he said. “But you make sure they issue you a badge this morning. I'm not going through this shit with your happy ass every single day.”

“Yes, sir,” Tyler said. “Who should I say told me?”

“Fuck off.”

The set was bigger on the inside than on the outside. Multiple sets, really. An enthusiastic woman who recognized him (although he didn't recognize her) called him over to give him his badge. “Tyler Montana,” she said, and so did the badge. “I'm so excited to meet you.”

“Thanks, uh, yeah.”

“Your father has played his cards very close to the vest on this one.”

“Yeah, he'll do that.”

“Before three days ago, I never even knew he had a son.”

“Yeah, well, he wanted me to have a normal life growing up. You know, to protect me from all the Hollywood horseshit.”

“That's so sweet. I never would have suspected Anderson of having a heart.”

“Yeah, well. He doesn't like people to know about it.”

“But, oh, I've been burbling on. I'm Babs.” She put out a hand and twinkled expectantly.

He was supposed to recognize the name. Well, Tyler was an actor. He'd act. “It's so wonderful to meet you at last.”

She had a firm handshake. The kind they teach people in business school.

“There's been quite a shake-up behind the scenes. Everything we thought we knew about this film from reading Variety and The Hollywood Reporter is wrong.

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