THE EDGE ➶ JAMES FRANCO✔️

3. CRUSHING ON YOU

You Are In Love by Taylor Swift

"You keep his shirt, he keeps his word... You can hear it in the silence, silence... You can feel it on the way home, way home... You can see it with the lights out, lights out; you're in love, true love."

~~~

Allison wakes up late the next morning. Sure enough, he had kept his word; the door is still locked, she doesn't feel drugged or violated, and everything is as she left it last night. Thankful, she crawls out of spectacularly warm bed and fixes her frizzy blonde curls to the best of her ability. Heading downstairs, she smells burnt toast and smiles bitterly. It reminds her of when he was home. They would make breakfast together every Sunday, and burnt toast was the only casualty. Shaking those memories away, she continues down the steps into the main level of the house. She finds James, completely knocked out, lying on the white leather couch in his living room. That means Lana has to be the one making breakfast.

"Hi, babe! You ready for breakfast?" Lana questions, her bright eyes somehow looking already awake and ready for the day.

"No, thanks. I really have to get going," Allison answers.

James mumbles something and turns over. A red Solo cup clatters to the floor, empty.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Thank you, though."

"Okay. Hey, wait a minute. Come here." Lana motions her over with her unoccupied hand. "James really likes you, Abigail," she says with a smile. "He trusts you."

Allison doesn't bother telling that her name isn't Abigail. "He does?"

Lana nods. "Mhm. You know how drunk people tell the truth? He told me all about you. He kept saying, 'Lanie, I'm so in love; I think I got it right!' He was so childish. It was actually kind of cute." She smiles sweetly. "He'll probably ask you to move in sometime soon, if this goes any farther."

The blonde-haired Allison speaks slowly, trying to comprehend what she just said. "But if he asks me to move in, and I accept, won't that look a little funny to the media? He'll have two live-in 'friends'."

"But you'll be his girlfriend," she points out, an eyebrow raised. Allison can't detect an ounce of jealousy in her voice.

Suddenly, James arouses. He gets up and stumbles around, rubbing his head. He obviously had too much to drink the night before.

"I didn't tell her, Franc," Lana says, looking at the pitiful James.

"Tell her what?" He asks absentmindedly.

"That you have a crush on her." Lana winks at the blonde.

"Oh. Good." He reaches in the refrigerator for a glass of water.

Lana turns to Allison. "Better get going," she whispers.

Allison nods and starts for the door. She doesn't bother saying goodbye to James; he isn't listening.

~~~

"I want a new album by 2019," Tom states matter-of-factly.

"2019? I think I can do that," Allison says, nodding and looking anywhere but at her producer.

"I must admit, Ms. Bradshaw, I can't wait to hear what you're going to do with your first album. By the way, what's your style?"

"Every now and then, I'll come up with a country-like ballad, but mostly I write pop songs."

"Perfect. That's just what I'm looking for. I want to advertise someone who's not dedicated to just one thing. I want someone who can overrule, say, Madonna, Katy Perry, or maybe even Taylor Swift or Nicki Minaj. But can you make the deadline?"

"Yes. My team and I are already working on some song ideas I had."

Truth is, she doesn't have a team, nor had she been brainstorming ideas for stunts. But this was getting her out of a bind. If Tom found out that she went to a party last night, much less slept in his brother's bed, he would've fired her, whether she shagged James or not. Sure, she could've taken him to court for violation of contract, but she knows she's no match for Tom Franco.

"Good. I'll call you in for 'check-ups' every three months or so."

"Sounds great. See you then."

~~~

Allison's phone rings just as she pulls into her apartment complex's parking lot. It's a number she doesn't know, but it could be someone important, so she answers it anyways.

"Hello?"

"Hey, this is Allison, right?"

That voice sounds strangely familiar.

"Uh, yeah, it is. With whom am I speaking with?"

"You speak like some kind of professional," the stranger laughs.

"James?"

"Yeah, this is me." He laughs some more. "Listen, I wanted to invite you to lunch tomorrow."

Stepping out of your car, she smiles and grabs her handbag out of the backseat. "Sure. Where at?"

"I dunno. How about that café in downtown L.A.?"

"Le Brumé?"

"Yeah, whatever it's called. You like that place?"

"I've only been in L.A. for two days, dumbass," she laughs lightly and waits as he laughs too.

"It's good. I think you'll like it. So I'll see you there, right? Two-thirty?"

"Definitely. I'll be there."

"Awesome. See you then."

~~~

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