Nerd Love
Nerd Love
Magnolia Robbins
Copyright © 2019 by Magnolia Robbins. All Rights Reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of very brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover Designed by May Dawney
Contents
1. Reese
2. Lucy
3. Reese
4. Lucy
5. Reese
6. Lucy
7. Reese
8. Lucy
9. Reese
10. Lucy
11. Reese
12. Lucy
13. Reese
14. Lucy
15. Reese
16. Lucy
17. Reese
18. Lucy
19. Reese
20. Lucy
21. Reese
22. Lucy
23. Reese
24. Lucy
25. Reese
26. Lucy
27. Reese
28. Epilogue
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Chapter 1
Reese
“Oh, God! Harper!”
Reese Simmons loved women. Savored women. Ate, slept and breathed women. There were few exceptions—one of which was staring longingly into her eyes from a few inches away. Justine Turner’s pink lips were slightly parted, long blonde hair neatly styled over her shoulders. The three-piece costume uniform hugged every curve she had, and accentuated her breasts. It fit her tall, lean frame, similar to Reese’s, a hundred times better. She was immaculate.
Except the last thing on earth Reese wanted to do was to kiss her.
“I can’t take this anymore,” Justine continued, inching closer. She was so close now, Reese could make out the stitches in her costume. The creases and slight wrinkles where it bent at her joints.
The Fresnel lights above melted into Reese’s lightly tanned skin. Flickered into her blue-grey eyes an almost intolerable amount. Her short ash-brown locks fell into her face, and she wiped them away with the swipe of her fingers. Her hand gripped onto the lush crimson upholstery that lined the metal chairs of the room. Reese leaned into it slightly, letting it hold her weight as she spoke. “Just a little longer.” The fabric of her suit was itching just a little too much. Choking at her throat for just a little too long.
Reese’s eyes glanced out the large windows that spanned the length of the wall to the right of her. Staring into the thick green fabric that, after post-production would be an expanse of stars. At the moment, it’s gaudy chroma key green was causing a headache between her eyes. She diverted her attention towards the desk beside them, littered with model ships from Star Command. Model ships she’d seen a half-dozen times, but couldn’t recall the names of. Only the exploratory vessel they were on at the moment— the Starship Atlas.
Of course, Earth didn’t really have any exploratory vessels. There wasn’t an entire branch of military devoted to space exploration. Not yet, anyway. No— Reese was just paid extraordinarily well to pretend there was. She was also paid to pretend to be in love with the most annoying human on the face of the planet, whether she liked it or not.
Captain Joelle King and Lieutenant Harper Reed were the most talked about up-and-coming romances in prime-time television history. Across the Universe fans had been aching for the two to finally get together since the show’s inception a season prior. It had been hailed by producers as the next big science fiction franchise. Top names had poured big money into its success. And as luck would have it, it paid off. Big. For the executives, for the fans, and for the cast and crew. The second season premiere was the perfect time to pull out the big guns; to give the devoted fans, and the show’s investors, exactly what they wanted.
Even if Reese hated it with every fiber of her being.
“I want you, Harper. Right here. Right now.” Justine crashed into her, those obnoxious, overly glossed lips falling onto her own. And Reese did her job. She kissed the woman as if she was the only one she’d ever loved. Gripping the sides of her face. Pulling their bodies tightly together. Fighting the bitter tang of overpowering strawberries that lingered in Reese’s mouth. The heaving of her stomach. The burning of her throat.
Beyond their passionate embrace, Reese saw Michael, who sat behind the monitor of a Red One camera, inching up on a dolly track, capturing the final shot of the scene. Smelled the scent of freshly brewed Folgers coffee wafting through the room, the likes of which she’d be sucking down in another minute or two. Ten seconds and this will all be over. Ten seconds too many. As Reese drew her kisses along the side of Justine’s cheek, she looked outward, watching the collection of crew members holding their breaths for the final line. Jack Walker, the director, hugging a clipboard tightly to his chest.
When Reese reached the edge of Justine’s ear, she whispered the four words that would end the scene. Felt the crawling of her flesh as she braced herself to say them. Words she prayed never having to utter to that woman ever again. Unlikely. But a woman could dream.
“Then have me, Joelle.” One second. Two seconds. Three sec—
“And—cut.” The moment Jack’s voice boomed across the soundstage, Reese recoiled from Justine. She wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her navy-blue uniform and twisted back toward the studio crew gathered around the cameraman. Jack signaled a break. “Let’s call it there for lunch folks. I need you back here in an hour to start shooting the away-mission footage.”
Reese snatched up her phone from a nearby seat off-set, thumbing through a text message. Happy first day back! Hope it went well. You’re required to tell me everything that happened. Just so we’re clear. Reese’s world paused for a moment reading, and what felt like her first smile of the day broke across her lips. She typed back a message quickly.
In your dreams, Lu. You’ll have to wait until the premiere, just like everybody else. Reese waited for a second, hoping for a quick snarky reply, but when none came, she pocketed her phone, still chuckling to herself.
Out of the corner of her eye, Reese spotted her fellow costar, Tom Quach, scurrying off the stage. Outside of his apparent Vietnamese heritage—shaggy, glossy-black hair and warm, mellow-brown skin—there were traces of his New York roots embedded in the smooth tenor of his voice. Reese darted after him, hoping to avoid further conversation with her coworkers.
Once they’d reached the off-grey walls of the fluorescent lit break area, he deflated into a repulsive, tangerine orange chair, and Reese fell down beside him. Unbuttoning the top buttons of the costume uniform, feeling uncomfortable and suffocated. “Ugh, this costume is awful.”
“Damn, Simmons,” Tom said, smiling widely and nudging her shoulder. He grabbed a mini-water bottle from the snack bar beside him, twisted it open, and took a sip before continuing. “That was kind of hot.”
Reese rolled her eyes. Stretched her arms in front of her. “Justine kisses like a blowfish.” Blowfish was an understatement. The image of their lips crashing together again and again made Reese’s neck and shoulders tighten.
Tom, who had taken another sip of water, spewed it across the room with a laugh. “Jesus. You waste no time bringing out the insults.”
“You try pretending t
o be in love with the worst person in the universe.” The reply shut Tom up, who simply shrugged. “I swear to God, they better get rid of her next season. I don’t know how anyone likes her.” Reese needed the world’s longest shower, just to be rid of the overly floral perfumed smell that lingered every time she was around Justine.
Tom pulled out his phone. “I know what’ll cheer you up. Pretty sure we can catch a bit of the second half of the game.”
“I don’t know if that’ll make it any better—” The scarlet and gold uniforms flashed into view, silencing her protests. “Hey, they’re up by seven.”
“Shut it,” Tom said, nudging her again. “The Hawks will catch up. I’m sure Carroll has some plays up his sleeve.”
In her peripheral vision she spotted a flash of green. A mound of soft blonde hair piled on a tall woman’s head. The click of stilettos across the floor. Reese braced herself, hands pressing into her thighs, shoulders tensing at the thought of her.
“Reese, darling,” Regina McNally’s nasally alto voice echoed off the walls and flooring. For being five feet even and barely as round as a pencil, she had a commanding tone that demanded attention. Today, she wore an emerald green button-down Liz Claiborne blazer and slacks, both of which matched her eyes. Gold hoop earrings—so large just looking at them made Reese’s ears hurt—dangled from her lobes. “You were supposed to call me first thing this morning.”
“Slipped my mind,” Reese admitted, though she preferred to deal with her high-strung agent as infrequently as humanly possible. She took a sharp breath, inhaling Regina’s pungent Gucci perfume. Reese wouldn’t have been able to identify it if she hadn’t seen her spritz it on every five minutes. Now it nearly marked her trail. “You’re here now.”
Regina flashed her a dazzling white smile, coming to sit opposite of her and Tom. She pulled out her smartphone, thumbing through an extensive calendar schedule.
“You have a break next week, yes? Jack said you did.” Reese didn’t bother answering. Regina would continue on her tangent without her reply. She probably wouldn’t like Reese’s response, anyway. “I scheduled you for a quick commercial shoot. Nothing fancy. Should just take two days.”
“I specifically asked for those off,” Reese argued. “The 49ers are playing a home game. Tom and I were going to go.”
“You can rest when you’re dead,” Regina said flatly and Reese smothered a fiery retort. She rubbed her brow furiously, looking down at her feet. “It’s about time you picked up a few extra projects.”
“It’s not like I’ve had an abundance of time,” Reese reminded her. “Shooting all of this,” she motioned toward the set in the distance, “I barely have a life.”
“I’m aware.” Regina nodded. “But the agency requires you to put in a certain number of hours in a year. And with more than one project, I might add.” Reese buried her face in her hands. She and Tom had been looking forward to going to the game for months.
“Besides. It’s more money in your pocket.”
“Because life is all about money,” Reese grumbled.
“What was that?”
“I said I’ll be there,” Reese sighed, looking up at her. “Text me where I need to go.”
“Good, good.” Regina looked pleased, getting to her feet. “I need you to be prompt too, Reese. No dilly dallying like you have a tendency to do.”
“Be on time.” Reese nodded, shoving down her aggravation and faced Tom. “You can go without me,” Reese said in a hushed voice. “I don’t mind.”
A loud commotion rang out. Reese watched as the production crew adjusted the set for the away-mission footage. Regina cleared her throat. Reese’s eyes snapped back to the high-strung blonde. “Reese. Walk with me a minute.” As much as Reese didn’t want to, she got up, following Regina across the room toward the far exit. “One more thing.”
“Mmm?” Reese crossed her arms over her chest. If it weren’t for the fact that the agency literally owned her for the next three years, she might have made a bitter retort. Instead, she chose to stay silent.
“Don’t forget the San Diego Comic Con is this weekend,” Regina said. “Let’s not have a repeat of the last convention, shall we?”
Reese did not like being reminded of the disaster. Every year since the show had aired, it seemed to get worse and worse. Which wasn’t a surprise, given the massive fan base Across the Universe attracted. Reese’s days were filled with girls dressed in costumes (although she didn’t complain about short skirts or tight corsets), discussing the latest Doctor, or their favorite Marvel character, or the most recent installment of Assassin’s Creed. Reese had heard it all in the world of nerd culture. She’d kept up with the latest trends. Did her best to appeal to the audience, even if it happened to be the “wrong ones” in her opinion.
And, occasionally, wound up in the wrong situation with the wrong girls at the wrong time. Like a few months prior at the convention in LA when a slew of them had invited her to a hotel room. A night Reese now barely remembered, but had enjoyed thoroughly. Until she’d been greeted with a brigade of paparazzi the following morning that had accused her of being a reckless party animal.
The network went nuts. Producers down her throat. It was a wonder Harper Reed hadn’t been killed off on the show. If she hadn’t been such a beloved character… If the writers of the show hadn’t been so adamant about defying the “bury the gay” trope, Reese probably would have been long-gone. Instead, by some miracle, she’d managed to keep her job.
“Nothing like that is going to happen this year,” Reese said, giving her empty assurances. She certainly wasn’t looking for trouble, but it was hard to resist beautiful women when they practically threw themselves at her… or Harper. It was next to impossible. She had no doubt Regina knew this by now. “I’ll behave.”
“You better, darling,” Regina raised a brow. “Your reputation is on the line.”
Reese, who lived and breathed her work most days, had grown up in the limelight. A director for a father, scriptwriter for a mother, it was obvious she was destined to continue her family legacy in some shape or form. And she had loved it. Loved every script, every adoring fan, and every new project to work on. Except for the last few years. Across the Universe had been something she’d chosen to muddle through. A “desperate times call for desperate measures” type of ordeal. Reese’s reputation amongst the crowd that adored the science fiction show wasn’t her highest concern. It was hardly a concern at all. This job was just a means to an end. After everything that had happened these past few years, she’d needed it. Whether she liked it or not. It was getting her through.
“You know, there’s always Justine, too.” Regina whispered.
Reese knew that had been coming. It had been a topic of conversation nearly every time she’d run into Regina over the past few months. Justine, Justine, Justine.
“Absolutely not,” Reese hissed. Her jaw clenched, raising her eyebrows to give her a glassy stare. “We’ve been over this, Regina. I despise that woman.”
“This isn’t about you,” Regina reminded her. “This is about your fans. Your publicity.”
Reese’s eyes diverted to the shuttle that was being prepped for the next round of shooting. The crew adjusted lighting and moved components around. While Across the Universe had certainly been a niche show, the network had spared no expense on set design. The inside of the shuttle was immaculate, down to the knobs and buttons at the helm. The bay backdrop outside the windows. To anyone watching, it looked like the real thing.
To Reese, it was just a reminder of the mess she’d gotten herself into. At least until her contract ran out at the end of this season. The prospect had Reese barely able to contain herself. A year stuck in a role she would have never imagined herself in, thrust her into a world that made her want to pull her hair out most days. Being able to finally be free. To pursue another job where people would actually take her seriously, and not just as some token character on a lame science fiction show.
&nb
sp; “The fans would eat it up, darling.” Regina raised a brow.
Truthfully, that wasn’t inaccurate. Across the Universe fans had been begging for Harper and Joelle to hook up for nearly two whole seasons now. On screen, there was clear chemistry.
Reese was extraordinarily good at what she did. Of course, they’d have chemistry. It was likely she could pull that off with most women. “It’s not happening. Not in a million years. You should know better by now and quit asking.”
“I’m afraid I won’t be asking much longer. Justine and her agent have both agreed. If you don’t concede sometime soon, I’ll have no choice but to force you. It’s for the good of the agency. For your publicity. You’ll fold eventually, darling. You can’t avoid this forever.”
“I can certainly as hell try,” Reese argued. “Clearly, none of you know me very well if you’d believe I’d sink that low just for the sake of publicity.”
While Reese loved the limelight, the gravity of the fame she had developed since Across the Universe’s inception years prior had been so intense it had become overwhelming. Most days she found herself wishing she was back in the smaller roles before the show. Where the job had been about the acting. The art. Not the money. Not the glitz and the glamour of Hollywood. Reese didn’t have anything against the show. Not really. Just the magnitude of insanity it brought with it. How it had transformed her career from something tolerable to something that felt as if it was rapidly spinning out of control.
Before Regina could reply, a shout rang out across the room.