Beautiful Secret

By Claire Raye

Voted a Reader’s Favorite Five Star Read!

Hollywood is dirty and no one knows that better than Julia Harris. Sitting atop the ever-changing throne, she’s currently Tinseltown’s golden girl. And she’s just signed on to play the biggest role of her life.

Meeting celebrities is par for the course in Aiden Morrissey’s job. As a production assistant he’s met his fair share, but it’s this latest encounter that steals his heart. And he’s not ready for what’s to come.

But fame has a price tag and anonymity no longer exists. Outed by her co-star, Julia and Aiden’s relationship is thrust into the spotlight long before they’re ready, and what was once a secret is now Hollywood’s biggest tabloid story.

Beautiful Secret is the first book in the Dirty Hollywood contemporary romance series. While each book can be read as a standalone, it offers so much more if read as a series. Happily ever after guaranteed with each book!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Claire Raye
• Release date: Dec 5, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463009635

Claire Raye

Not only is Claire Raye a really sweet pen name, it’s actually a pen name for two sarcastic best friends who met through their mutual love of reading. After bonding over books (and wine and cheese), they decided to take the plunge and see if they could write a book together and The Rockport Beach Series was born! In addition to their shared love of food, the writing duo that is Claire Raye like to write about strong, sassy females who aren’t afraid to say what’s on their mind and the overprotective men who fall in love with them. Both halves of Claire Raye are married and both of their husbands have a cheeky side that gets plenty of airtime in their books. From their smart mouths to their witty one-liners, there’s plenty of material to use for all those alpha males they love to write about.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Aiden

THREE MONTHS AGO

Julia Harris.

What? I ask, looking up as my assistant, Luke walks into my office. It’s laughable I even have an assistant to be honest, considering how far down the food chain I am. It’s laughable I have an office either.

Julia Harris, Luke repeats, smiling at me.

What about her?

She’s signed on, jesus, Aiden, keep up.

I roll my eyes before turning them back to the production notes I’m supposed to review before filming starts in three months. So? I say, not taking my eyes off the page.

Luke exhales, flopping onto the couch that clutters my office in the basement of the film studio. So, she’s fucking gorgeous, he says, as though that explains everything. And rumor has it she’s broken up with her latest fling.

I flip the page, underlining a note about the catering I need to follow up on. Again, so? I add, pen between my teeth as I continue to read over the notes.

So, he says, exaggerating the word. It means she’s available and like I said, fucking gorgeous.

I lower my file, giving Luke my full attention now, which essentially translates to a what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about look. And what, she’s going to be interested in a lowly second production assistant like me now, is she?

Luke shrugs. Maybe? he says, a sly smile on his face. Or maybe she’ll be interested in the lowly second production assistant’s runner.

I roll my eyes, a sarcastic laugh falling from my mouth. Right, in some kind of weird parallel universe where people like us are even on the radar of people like her.

Now it’s Luke rolling his eyes at me. Always with the sci-fi reference, he says, half teasing me. No wonder women think you’re a total nerd.

I stand, ignoring his comment and walking over to my desk where I throw the notes onto the pile of other notes I need to work through before filming starts. This is going to be a long few weeks. I have so much to do and all of that is only going to get a million times harder now that our superstar has finally signed on. I’m dreading the day her rider arrives outlining all of her demands for her time on set.

The only good thing about this particular job is we start filming in London, meaning I get a free trip back home for a couple of months. Not that I’m gonna have much time off, but whatever.

Wanna grab a drink? I say, figuring all of this shit can wait as I decide to call it a day.

Luke’s eyes light up. Hell yes! he immediately replies, standing. Let’s hit up the Moonshine. Word is, it’s the latest place the celebs are hanging out at when they’re in town.

You’re hopeless, you know that right? I say as I grab my jacket.

Luke just grins at me. No, you just don’t take advantage of what this job offers you, he says, slapping me on the back as we walk out of my office. I mean lighten up, Aiden, he adds. Enjoy the perks for once in your life.

---

The bar is pumping by the time we get there, the light rain doing nothing to deter the hordes of L.A. wannabes from getting smashed and hoping for their fifteen minutes of fame. It shits me, hanging out in places like this, all of it a far cry from the pubs I’m used to going to back home.

But at the same time, I get it. This is the scene here and if you’re serious about movies, either making them or starring in them, then these are the places you need to be seen in.

Get us some drinks, Luke yells as he gestures toward a table. I’ll get us a spot.

I nod and make my way over to the bar, the thumping music echoing off the walls, despite the crowd.

Two beers, thanks, I tell the bartender, pointing to the first tap I see. He nods, not interested in making conversation with me.

I pull some money from my pocket, knowing this is likely going to cost me a fortune because of where we are. The guy returns with our drinks, taking my cash without so much as a word before he walks off and finds someone younger and with a bigger chest than me to serve.

I make my way back to the table, groaning a little when I see Luke courting a bunch of girls who now surround him.

Hey, Aiden, he says, waving at me. Let me introduce you, he adds, ignoring the beer I hold out to him.

I roll my eyes, putting it on the table as he tells me the names of the three girls, none of which I catch. I nod to each of them, grateful when they all focus their attention back on Luke.

Leaning against the table, I take a long sip of beer as my eyes wander over the room, searching for anyone who might actually be worth talking to.

You looking for someone? a voice says, lips brushing against my ear.

I turn, find myself face to face with a woman who’s vaguely familiar. Nope, I say, shaking my head as I take another sip.

She smiles up at me. Your accent, she says. British?

English, I say.

There’s a difference? she asks, looking genuinely interested.

I nod. There is.

Huh, she replies, eyebrow arched. You’ll have to explain it to me, she adds.

I stare down at her, wondering whether she truly cares or she’s just hedging her bets, hoping I’m someone famous or connected who’s worth her time. It’s how it always feels, living in this city, as though you’re nobody unless you’re famous, and you’re most definitely not worth knowing if you aren’t.

I’m Lila by the way, she says, hand out toward me.

Aiden, I reply, my hand sliding into hers. What is it you do, Lila? I ask, taking a risk, because I know she’ll be mortally offended if she’s someone I should already know.

She smiles now. I’m an actress, she replies.

Of course you are, I can’t help but think, even as the voice inside my head says RUN!

And what do you do, Aiden? she asks, sidling a little closer.

Production assistant, I reply, taking another sip of beer.

Oh, she says, eyes widening. Are you working on anything I’d know?

I exhale, glancing over at Luke who is fully engrossed in conversation with the other two and barely aware I’m even here. It’s the same old story, the two of us go out, he hooks up with whatever semi-famous girl he can, leaving me to her friend. I usually wind up going home alone, unable to go through the effort it takes just to talk to these women who are clearly only using me for my connections to the movie industry.

Yeah, maybe, I say, turning back to Lila. "I’m about to start on that new movie, Darkness Falling, I say. With Julia Harris?"

Oh my god, she squeals, her voice reaching decibels only dogs can hear. I love her! She’s exactly the kind of actress I want to be, she adds, grabbing my arm. Tell me all about her!

Fuck, I can’t help but think. Is getting laid really worth all of this bullshit?

CHAPTER 2

Julia

Julia!

A hand cracks my ass and I shoot straight up to find my assistant staring at me with a glare that could kill a mountain lion.

You should have been up hours ago! she cries, her voice shrill and ear piercing, and after last night, my head is already pounding.

So many wines, I mutter. My eyes are having trouble adjusting to the ridiculously bright light that is now blazing into the room. My amazingly beautiful room darkening curtains have now been expertly flung open by Ava, disrupter of sleep and bringer of headaches.

Well, I guess the headache is my own fault, but she’s here and she’s loud, and I’m really crabby.

Your flight leaves in two hours and your driver has been sitting downstairs waiting for you for the last hour.

God, she’s relentless.

I roll over, crushing a pillow over my head as I listen to her rustling around my bedroom, then her designer stilettos are clomping like an angry Clydesdale on the tile floor in my ensuite bathroom. She’s yanking clothes from my closet with expert precision and within the next five minutes she’ll have me up and dressed. I know there’s no sense in fighting her, but I do it anyway.

You won’t have time to shower, she calls, her voice bouncing around in the echoic bathroom. And no offense, but you smell like a hobo so at least try to freshen yourself up a bit.

Freshen myself up? Who even says shit like this? My assistant, that’s who, and while I really do adore her, there are times that I want to tell her to get her own life.

I never would have hired an assistant. I know my life is a hot mess, but I like it that way. Sometimes I drink too much, my hair is generally caked with dry shampoo, and if you believe everything you read in the tabloids, I get around.

But right now, I’m Hollywood’s golden girl, fresh off an Oscar win that should’ve never happened. The real actress had a scheduling conflict and I was thrust into the role as choice B. I could have even been choice D; I don’t know. But I do know fame is fleeting. In a year I could be a nobody, hell in a week I could be. So why bother changing who I really am because I could be back there before I know it?

---

I’m dressed and out the door in less than ten minutes with Ava next to me huffing and puffing as she scrolls through her phone. She’s about to mutter that we’re late and then proceed to make a few calls asking someone to hold a plane for me.

It’s embarrassing, honestly. Let the damn plane leave without me. That’s what would happen if I weren’t Julia Harris, and sometimes I miss my quiet life where no one cared about me. The one where I could talk movie roles and dream of finding something that fit.

I went into this whole thing to make an impact, to be taken seriously, but slowly I’m finding myself being typecast into a role, a role very similar to the one I just signed on to do.

My agent keeps telling me it’s the role I was born to play: an unstable wife, a socialite or a wealthy heiress with a fucked up past and a fragile mental state. You play enough crazy people and people start to label you difficult to work with, demanding, and dare I say it, crazy too.

I am none of these things, but I’m about to play that role once again. Don’t get me wrong, I’m eternally grateful for everything I have been given, but I just want the opportunity to showcase that I can be more than this.

The media sees me as the girl who drinks too much, avoids fans and is awkward in interviews. If I wasn’t currently sitting pretty on the top of Hollywood’s ever-so-fickle throne; no would give me the time of day.

I drink because crowds make me nervous, I avoid fans because I don’t know what to say, and I am absolutely awkward in interviews because I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to talking about myself. I’d rather talk about the writers, the directors, the production crew because I love the idea of bringing their vision to life, hearing their inspiration. I’m only here because of them.

The driver merges onto the freeway, his car barreling down the road toward LAX at what feels like breakneck speed and I give my seatbelt a little tug. But as I do Ava lets out a small and obviously annoyed chuckle.

He wouldn’t have to drive like this if someone had been on time, she scoffs and it’s hard to hold in the smile that tugs at my lips. She’s chronically fifteen minutes early to everything and being on time is to be late.

I wouldn’t have been late if someone wouldn’t have scheduled an event for the night before, I shoot back, still feeling the wrath of the red wine as I swallow back a bit of nausea.

I scheduled the event because it’s part of someone’s career.

You’re lovely, you know that, right? I say, giving her a smile to let her know I am grateful for the constant nagging.

---

The plane lands in London and if I thought I felt like shit when I woke up this morning, I was mistaken. I’m exhausted, barely sleeping more than two hours and I’ve now lost an entire day to the time change.

Of course Ava looks like she just stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine and my only hope is that by walking next to her people will ignore me. I smell of recycled air and airplane bathroom hand soap, and I’m in desperate need of a shower.

This girl has hauled through LAX, JFK and now Heathrow in stilettos without missing a beat. And here I am still nursing a hangover and shuffling next to her with my matted plane hair.

"You have to be in hair and makeup in three hours because you have a photoshoot for Darkness Falling, she says as she scrolls through her phone. Promo and test shots, she adds, and then continues. After that you have a dinner with the director and then it’s on to a table read of the script with the cast."

Okay, I reply, feeling suddenly overwhelmed despite being ready for the role. Can I at least take a shower?

Take a shower, Ava mumbles, as her fingers move furiously over the keys on her phone. Yep, it’s on the calendar for 10:30 now.

What time is it? I ask, digging through my purse for my phone, but Ava responds before I can locate it.

Quarter after eight, but it’ll take a bit to get to your apartment.

Apartment? I question, even though I know she sent me the information on where I’ll be staying months ago.

Yes, Julia, a house. The production company thought it would be a better fit since it looks like you’ll be here for at least three months. I had some of your clothes and things shipped over a few weeks ago so everything should be there and ready.

Thank you, I say, again grateful for her organization. Did you decide if you’re staying the whole time?

As of last week, Ava wasn’t certain she wanted to stay and I get it. She has a boyfriend and the strain of being gone for three months can really take its toll.

Yes, I’ll be here, she says, but there’s a resignation in her tone.

Everything okay? I ask, truly interested.

Tom and I broke up. For good this time. He was the only reason I considered going back home, so no point now.

I’m sorry, I say, running a hand down her arm. He didn’t deserve you anyway. You’re amazing.

Thanks, she mutters, her head hanging a little as we approach the baggage carousel. Ava indicates that she can grab my bag for me and I flit my hand in her direction letting her know that’s completely ridiculous.

I’m good. I’ll grab my bag and then we can head through customs.

I’m happy to get your bag, Julia, she replies, but I shake my head even though Ava is giving me an eye that says everyone around us is staring.

I got it, I reply just as the alarm sounds indicating the arrival of luggage.

It only takes a few more seconds before the whispers start and Ava gives me a little nudge with her elbow as the couple standing next to us begins the usual argument.

It’s not her, the guy says, his voice as hushed as it can be in a busy airport baggage claim.

Yes it is, the woman hisses, visibly annoyed that she is being doubted, and before the guy can respond back, I turn and say, Yes, it is her.

Oh my god, see I told you! the woman practically shrieks giving the guy a shove, and as much I don’t enjoy being recognized, I know I’ve made this woman’s day. That makes these moments worth it.

Would you mind if we took a picture with you? she politely asks and of course I comply, telling the woman to hand her phone to Ava.

We take a few shots and she also asks if I mind if she shares it on Instagram, which again, I agree to. She’s been polite and kind, and we strike up a conversation while we all wait for our luggage. They’re here on their honeymoon after getting married last weekend and I wish them a wonderful trip as I watch my suitcase move down the line.

I reach for my bag just as someone standing near me does the same, offering to graciously help the celebrity. Sometimes it gets a little creepy.

I’ve got it, I tell the man heaving the bag off the belt, dragging it behind me. I only make it about thirty feet before a swarm of photographers are snapping pictures of me toting my own luggage and looking like I haven’t bathed in a week.

This can be spun one of two ways after the pictures are sold to the highest tabloid bidder… Julia Harris: She’s just like us! Or Julia Harris: Hot fucking mess!

After a long wait in customs and more of the whispering, we find our driver waiting for us, and he’s holding a sign that announces he’s waiting for Ava McDonald. We use Ava’s name for almost all our travel. Once the paparazzi get wind of where I might be filming my next movie, they convene in droves. They haven’t figured out who Ava is yet, but it’s only a matter of time before someone sells her name to a tabloid and our cover is blown.

Ava McDonald? the man asks as we stop in front of him and we both reply together making him give us a strange look.

Yes, I’m Ava McDonald, she says, smirking at me, like this guy doesn’t immediately recognize me. But he doesn’t acknowledge it, just makes his way over to the doors to where his car is parked.

I have a car waiting for you… the driver starts, and I nod my head gratefully.

---

It takes over an hour in traffic for us to arrive at the apartment and if I thought I was tired before, I was mistaken.

Do I have time for a nap? I ask, and Ava shoots me a look that basically screams, Are you stupid?

I’d suggest you opt for the shower over the nap, she says giving me a once over as she punches a series of numbers into the keypad on the black iron gate of the apartment.

I thought you said we were staying at an apartment? I ask, walking through the gate to the front door, which is also outfitted with a keypad. This is a house, a big ass house.

I told them that you like your privacy, so here’s privacy for you, Ava says, her hand gesturing around to the quaint little neighborhood.

---

It’s well after ten p.m. when I finally arrive at the table read, but it’s Ava’s calendar that makes sure I’m the first to arrive. Exhaustion is an understatement and I’m on my third black coffee in the last two hours. It’s the only thing keeping me going at this point.

I’m looking down at my phone, texting Ava as I walk down a long hallway, attempting to figure out exactly where I’m supposed to be when I collide with something. My phone goes flying from my hand and skidding along the carpeted flooring.

Oh my god. I’m so sorry, I say, scrambling to grab my phone as the person leans down too, getting to it before I can.

I finally get a good look at the person I’ve nearly run down as he hands me my phone. His deep brown eyes are focused on my face and I look away quickly.

Are…are…you okay? I ask and he laughs a little. Of course he’s okay. He’s like six foot-two and all lean muscle. And while I might be in good shape, there’s no way my tiny five-foot five frame could have done any damage.

He doesn’t answer me immediately, so I apologize again, suddenly feeling awkward as we stand only a few inches apart. It’s then that I realize my hand is still covering his with my phone resting between us.

Thanks for picking up my phone, I say, my hand slipping away from his as my fingers accidently brush the inside of his wrist.

Sure, he finally says, his voice quiet and he gives a small nod of his head.

Are you working on the film? I ask, trying to ease the awkwardness of the situation, but again he doesn’t reply, just stares at me. I’m Julia Harris… I start, but he cuts me short.

Yeah, he says like he knows who I am and just as I’m about to ask his name I hear, Julia! There you are!

CHAPTER 3

Aiden

She’s shorter in real life. Not sure why I even notice that. Or think it. Or even care. But she is and for some reason, it’s all I can focus on as she sits at the head of the table, surrounded by the other main cast members, the director Stephen, his assistant director Dan, and my boss, Geoff, the executive producer.

They’re all fawning over her and on any other occasion, it would be completely ridiculous, but this time, it isn’t. Maybe it’s because she barely even notices, much less cares.

Or maybe it’s because she looks like she’s struggling to stay awake and would rather be anywhere but here.

Apparently, she only flew in this morning and I know from my own schedule that her day was packed with promo and shit and then dinner with Stephen. I wasn’t a part of or invited to any of that and the first time I laid eyes on her was when she crashed into me in the corridor outside and tried to…

Julia? someone suddenly says.

She lifts her head, obviously startled. Sorry, she mumbles, blushing a little. This, ugh, this time change is brutal. Where were we?

I watch as she scans the pages of her script before glancing sideways to check she’s even on the right page. Her blush deepens as she realizes she’s not and with her bottom lip between her teeth, she shoots the director an apologetic look before turning the page.

Yeah okay, she’s much hotter in real life, too.

And that is something I definitely did not expect.

Maybe it’s time we called it a night, her co-star says, sliding a hand on to her shoulder.

She smiles at him gratefully before pulling away, the movement subtle but still an obvious enough fuck you.

I don’t blame her; the guy is a total cock. Arrogant as all hell and clearly keen to get in her pants.

The director wraps things up and everyone starts to pack up their things. I watch as Julia stands, her co-star, Brandon Madden, turning to face her, practically blocking her in against her chair as he suggests they go and get a drink so they can, and I quote discuss the direction of their characters.

Clearly that’s code for something along the lines of I need to get you naked and I can’t help but smile as I watch her turn him down, instead turning around as though she’s looking for someone else.

People shuffle out, most of them ignoring me because I’m considered a nobody, especially when Geoff’s around. He shoots me a wry smile as he walks out the door, clearly glad this read through is over.

Geoff’s actually one of the good guys. Someone who doesn’t talk down to me or treat me or anyone else like shit just because we’re lower on the food chain than him. He’s got a great rep in the industry, which is half the reason I tolerate living in L.A.

He’s also generous with his time and not a prick when it comes to work and what he expects me to achieve with zero notice and fuck all budget.

Julia? I hear a female voice call.

Turning, I find what I’m guessing is her assistant now back in the room, a hand on Julia’s arm as she explains that she has no idea where the driver is and she’s going to make a few calls and find out what the fuck is going on, not sparing the explicit language just because she’s talking to an Oscar winning movie star.

Fuck’s sake, Julia mutters, running a hand through her now messy hair. I may as well just sleep here.

I’ll take care of it, the assistant says as she immediately starts jabbing at the screen of her iPhone. I watch as she lifts it to her ear, a look of pure rage on her face as the phone rings.

Anything I can do to help? I hear myself ask.

What the fuck am I doing?

Julia turns to face me, a look of exhausted surprise on her face. Seems our driver hasn’t shown, she says, gesturing toward her assistant. She hates it when things don’t go according to schedule, she adds with a shrug. She’s kinda OCD.

The assistant finishes her curse-filled voicemail message and then shoves her phone in her bag. I’m very fucking OCD actually, and I have to be, to keep your ass in line, she says, nudging Julia to the door where I’m standing. We’ll just have to get a taxi, she says.

I watch as Julia’s shoulder sag, as though just the thought of waiting for a cab to show is too much to bear. I don’t blame her. Not only is it late, it’s also pouring with rain and she’s a movie star coming from the well-known Pinewood Studios.

This means whenever the cab shows, it’s going to be driven by some bored idiot who’ll spend the entire drive asking her a million questions about her career and movies, culminating in a selfie request and autograph as she attempts to stagger out when they finally reach her hotel.

I can give you a lift, I say, as once again I wonder what the fuck I am actually doing.

What? they both say at the same time.

I shrug. I’ve got a car, I add. A cab will take forever.

The assistant stares at me, a hard look on her face as her eyes bore into me, hunting for some sort of ulterior motive for my offer. Truth be told, I’m not sure what the hell possessed me just now, and maybe it really isn’t such a great idea.

Or not, I add, gathering up my notes and bag.

I turn and walk out the door just as Julia says, No, a lift would be great, thank you.

I glance over my shoulder and find Julia closer than I expected, a grateful look on her face as she stares up at me, her tired blue eyes bloodshot to hell.

I nod. Wait at the entrance to Lot 5, I’ll come and pick you up.

Julia shakes her head, glancing back at her assistant. We can walk to the parking garage, she says. It’s fine.

I nod again, before turning and heading toward the elevator down to the garage. Julia and her assistant spend the ride down discussing the logistics of the next few days, the assistant listing all the events and interviews she has to get through before filming actually starts.

I sneak a glance at