Read Online In Your Dreams Bobby Anderson by Sandra Jane Maidwell - Free Book Online

into the phone piece. “What can I do you for?” He cringed at his own use of words. He really would have to start acting his age one of these days. No wonder Neil wanted a more mature actor.
    “I won’t beat about the bush, Bobby —” Beat about the bush? That was an oldie. Bobby didn’t feel so bad anymore.
    “I’m listening.”
    “No, Bobby, you are interrupting.”
    Silence.
    “Bobby?”
    “Neil?”
    “I’m having a dinner party tonight. It’s sort of a publicity thing, so please show up with a nice date, and try to look your best.”
    Bobby seriously contemplated telling Neil Carley to take his publicity dinner party and stuff it up his tight ass, but of course he did not. Instead, he clutched the phone and headed to his medicine cabinet where a brand new unopened bottle of Tylenol awaited him.
    “Sure thing, Neil, what time?”
    “Seven P.M. sharp. My house.”
    Bobby raised his eyebrows. He’d never been to Neil’s house. This should be interesting , but who to take? He wished he could just take Patrick, or one of his bro-friends; getting a girl was so much more complicated.
    “Bobby?” S igh.
    “Yep?”
    “Yep?”
    “Yep?”
    “For Christ sakes! Bobby, is it so hard to say “yes”? It’s the same amount of letters, after all.”
    Bobby wasn ’t quite sure how to answer that one. Neil didn’t have any place teaching him how to speak English; but Neil was huge, and you never insult your director. If he had to be humble in his life, it was to people like Neil—or at least until he became so big he could actually give Neil some speech lessons of his own. Beat about the bush! And what about his manhood? Didn’t that deserve preserving? How much of being humble could his dignity take? One more day , Bobby, thought. One more day wouldn’t kill his manhood. “You’re right, Neil. Sorry, man. I’ll see you at seven.”
    The conversation ended just like that. Not even a “see you later”, or a simple “goodbye”. Just silence.
    Bobby popped two tablets and went in search of his little black book. Twenty minutes later he had a date with Ester. She wasn’t the most beautiful girl he knew, but she was comfortable with a crowd and she was dying to spend a second of her life with Neil. When Bobby asked her, she practically dropped her phone.
    Bobby smiled at his good choice. Ester was mature at thirty-something-ish. Her ambition would keep her well behaved. Bobby wouldn’t have to worry about his date getting plastered somewhere, or that she’d leave with someone else, or that she’d start dancing a jig on the bar top. Ester was safe.
    The tablet s kicked in and Bobby lay down on his bed, closed his eyes, and tried to think of Susan. It had been over a week and he was seriously worried. If he was to get her off the island, he wanted to do it now; before all the interviews, before his European tour, and before the next movie. Patrick had already dropped off a new script at his house. The title was a working one, Money Run, and from the first two pages Bobby could see it was another suspense action movie. He sighed. His heart wasn’t in it. Another movie so soon was, in his opinion, too soon.
    He squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring the threat of wrinkles, and willed Susan to dream of him. What was wrong with her? Why wasn’t she thinking of him? If he were a girl, he’d be thinking of him.

CHAPTER 13
     
     
     
    “Can I take your jacket?” a long legged, teeth-whitened, spray tanned woman of undeterminable age directed her question at Bobby.
    He didn’t really want to give up his jacket. It was his black leather one with the rips. He had almost obeyed Neil’s request to look his best, which of course meant dress up, which of course meant the navy blue Armani suit he kept for just such occasions, but he’d chosen his sexy devil look at the last minute.
    To be sexy devil, all he required were his blue Levis, his white V-neck cotton Armani T-shirt, and his black leather ripped jacket. His