Page 23 of The Golden Scoop

“How are you this fast?”

“You seem surprised.”

His mouth is hovering inches away from mine, reminding me he’s stolen the win from me.

“You’re making me feel that way a lot lately,” he whispers.

“That’s because you don’t know me.” I push him off and he goes without resisting.

I get up and dust off my clothes.

“It was weird you knew my coffee order, but it’s even creepier you wanted to kiss me badly enough to cheat.”

I expect another comeback, but I’m met with silence instead. The close contact has my skin itching (although I try to fool myself into believing it’s the grass).

So, I walk away, his eyes still holding that unreadable expression as I leave him lying there behind me.

M. Hunt Feature Notes:

At what height does he draw the line and call in a stunt double?

Behavior suspiciously wholesome. He assisted elderly woman with groceries before driving away without cameras present. Possible motives: pathological need to be charming, performance for journalist in proximity in order to finally land an article that doesn’t destroy him…

Conclusion: not even close to the previous bad boy image = too good to be true.

SIX

Emma

I’m a woman on a mission, armed with suspicion. I’ll be damned if I let Matt’s charm derail my goal of finding the truth behind all of his schemes and fake smiles.

Like the ones he’s been giving me for the last three days that have kept me up at night more than I’d ever admit to anyone.

So, despite the message he sent me last night, which I left unanswered, telling me he’d be on set at nine, I show up an hour earlier. I’m hopeful I can get people to open up more when he’s not around, or maybe overhear someone conveniently cursing him out, in which case I will happily join.

I use Ben as my guide, letting him lead me to where the crew and directors are currently filming a scene. He snoops around with me, as if he were the Watson to my Sherlock, until he’s called back to the trailer.

After two days of following Matt, everyone’s used to seeing me around, and they don’t seem bothered by it. They love free press. And right now, that’s what I am.

I spot Zoe lingering behind the camera crew. Matt has to be respectful with the people who fund this film, but I’m sure he’s not above being his usual unpleasant self around the folks who can’t fire him.

“Hi, Zoe,” I chirp, with extra enthusiasm.

She turns to me, the same tight smile on her face.

“Emma, right? The journalist?”

“Yep. That’s me!” I answer. “Listen, I was wondering if I could steal you away for a couple of minutes, five tops, and ask you some questions about how it’s been working here with Matt.”

“Me?”

I can tell she’s surprised by the way she brings her hand up to her chest, as if I’d been pointing at someone behind her.

“Wouldn’t you rather speak to the director? I’m just an assistant. I don’t think I’d be much help.”

“What?! You’re probably going to be the most help of all,” I say, hoping it butters her up.

“I am?” she asks, still uncertain.