DAISY

Living in a mansion in Malibu? Not bad. I could get used to that.

Just on my way to the nearest bakery, I almost ran into that singer that cheated on his girlfriend a couple days ago. When I went to buy my coffee, I had to ask a Victoria Secrets model for a dollar. She gave me a dirty look.

Now, I was sitting in Guy's huge kitchen with a cup of coffee and my laptop. My fingers tremble with the ideas bubbling in my head. Here, in Malibu, with the sea at my side and all those famous people up close a new flow of ideas rushed in my head.

I started to write.

LADY EVERLYE

by Daisy Lynton

INT. - LADY HARRISONE'S PALACE - AFTERNOON

LADY LYNTON walks down the halls of her friend's house and bumps into the Duke of Sheffield. She's surprised. She didn't expect to see him here. But also she's stunned by how his eyes looked so much bluer than the description people gave him. It was almost like looking at the bottom of the ocean on a sunny day.

LYNTON: Oh, my apologies, your grace

CARVER: It was nothing.

LYNTON smiled weakly.

CARVER: We haven't been introduced

LYNTON: Lady Daisy Lynton, I'm the second daughter of the Viscount of Oakland. Forgive me for the inconvenience, but what is your grace doing here? I thought you would be in London for the season.

CARVER: Please, you can call me Guy. I don't fit into these societal rules.

CARVER smiles in a ravishing way. DAISY kept staring at him, because she asked a question and it wasn't answered.

CARVER: Oh yes, my coming to Somerset was not planned...

There is a pause as CARVER circles LYNTON to the nearest window. He stares at the horizon under DAISY's piercing gaze (Do I have a piercing gaze?).

CARVER: I believe you heard about the death of a peasant woman who lived near my house? I'm here to investigate what happened.

DAISY looks at him with a new interest on her face (Please change that. Daisy "looks" too much and does too little).

LYNTON: Lady Brandi Mann. I happen to know the Manns. A very humble family that worked for my father.

LYNTON: I can offer my help. Glad to.

CARVER accepts, but not because he needs her help. Just as Daisy's help is not motivated by her pure soul.

Oh my God. What the hell am I doing? I'm writing a fanfic with Guy Carver?! I covered my mouth in horror.

This was insanity.

But to be honest, I felt the story flowed a lot better that way and I was finally able to put a face on my characters, so it wasn't a big deal, right?

In fact, Guy would make a great Duke of Lancashire. And even though I wasn't an actress, I kind of inspired Lady Everlye in me — minus the homicides and everything.

As long as I changed the names back to what I had previously chosen, I think it would be okay for Duke Guy Carver of Sheffield to stay a little longer.

Speaking of the devil. I hadn't seen him since yesterday when he showed me the upstairs guest room. The room looked like it had never been used.

He locked himself in his own room and hasn't shown up since. I was sure he was hungover and needed to rest since we were going back to work tomorrow—if only he kept his promise and spoke to Stacker.

I've managed to eat what I found in the fridge — an old frozen pizza and a beer. I left ten dollars on the counter so he wouldn't think I was a parasite or something.

I was still writing when my phone rang on the table. I figured it was Cole. He and I agreed to look at some apartments in the area next week.

Cliff: Can we talk?

I held my breath and looked at the phone for a long time, undecided whether to tell him to go to hell or respond. But what? Yes, we could talk? I wasn't that stupid. I had nothing to talk with Cliff.

"Ah, bloody hell, I forgot you were here" Guy appeared in the kitchen with his curly hair dripping wet. He wore a gray t-shirt from some English soccer team.

"Sorry, but doesn't your residence here in America depend exclusively on me?" I dropped the cell phone on the table and looked at him.

Guy let out a smile and walked over to the coffee pot in the sink. He smelled the contents, but ended up dropping the bottle there. Then he opened a refrigerator and took out a beer.

"It's nine in the morning" I observed, removing my glasses from my face to clean it.

"Yes, but I need to cure my hangover and this is the best way to do that." he explained with a sideways smile. "It's one of the few things my father taught me."

I always forgot that Guy was the son of a famous actor. I didn't know much about his films, as my taste was more the 18th century romances and Jeremy Carver was famous for his mafia films.

But overall, everyone knew him. He won many awards and made his name in the industry. Everyone expected great things from his son when he decided to enter this world too. I wondered if Guy felt pressured at any point.

"I can't believe Jeremy Carver is an alcoholic."

Guy made a dismissive gesture with his hand and quickly changed the subject:

"Anyway, I talked to Stacker and he accepted you back."

"Really?" I widened my eyes. "How? Stacker is not a second-chance guy."

"I said you would work overtime without prior notice."

"I don't work overtime without prior notice."

"You do now"

I shook my head. It's not like I had control over it anyway.

"Good, thank you. Now, let's go back to talking about your family. We've got to know each other better if we're going to go through that whole process at City Hall" I suggested, closing the laptop to get a full view of his body leaning against the sink.

Bad idea.

Even with the loose shirt, I could see Guy's muscles flexing as he raised the drink to his lips.

He wasn't exactly strong like Henry Cavill or even Cliff. He was closer to Tom Holland in terms of muscle mass. However, his shoulders were very broad, so you got the impression that he was stronger than he looked.

"You're regretting rule number one" Guy said with a mischievous smile on his face.

"No, I'm not" I kept my gaze firmly on his face. "Tell me about your family."

"Father. Mother. Younger brother. England" he explained quickly. "There is no need to go into the details, because you will never meet them. You?"

I wanted to meet Jeremy Carver and Guy's mysterious brother who I've never heard of, but I imagine it would be too confusing to involve our family in this marriage thing.

"My parents are from Oakland. I have four brothers."

Guy put down his beer and looked at me.

"Yeah, well, they always wanted a big family" I shrugged.

"What's their name?"

"Cole is the first and we are closer than the others because of our age proximity. Elliot is the third oldest, then there is Briony, and now the youngest Dahlia."

"So, your parents have a flower shop?" He asked with a serious expression.

I smiled sideways.

"Mom's name is Margaret... My father liked the idea of naming all the girls in the house after flowers" I explained.

"At least your boyfriend knows what kind of flower to give you."

"I don't think Cliff knows what a daisy is" I muttered, resting my elbows on the counter and my head in my hands.

I didn't want to talk about Cliff now, when I was trying to forget his message on my cell phone waiting for an answer.

"Moving on. Birthday?"

"Are you one of those girls who believe in horoscopes?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Don't you think a husband and wife would know each other's birthdays?"

"June 2nd," he said reluctantly.

"Next month" I smile. "Mine is December tenth. My family used to go on a big trip for each of our birthdays. Mine was always Hollywood, but we ended up seeing a lot of illicit things, so we had to stop."

I don't know why I was telling him that.

I had a horrible habit of talking too much with people I knew too little.

A smile crossed Guy's face, not that seductive magazine cover smile, but a real one. That smile sent butterflies through my stomach... Or it was the stuffed baguette I ate this morning. Let it be the stuffed baguette, please.

I spent two years without falling for Guy's charms. It wouldn't be a conversation in his kitchen with him wearing a baggy t-shirt that would change that.

"Why Hollywood? It's decadent," he said, turning to throw the full can of beer in the trash.

"Since I was ten years old I wanted to be a film director" I began to explain, running my finger over the empty coffee cup. "Dad tried to encourage me by taking me to Hollywood or showing me the films of Orson Welles, his favorite director."

"Since I was a child, I lived in this world of mine of people who only existed for me and stories that only happened inside my mind. It became stronger in my teenage years as an escape valve, I suppose... Then, I decided to follow this path in the end" I said, catching my breath.

I don't know where that was coming from. I just looked at Guy's face, paying attention to every word that came out of my mouth as if I were important in some way, and I wanted to tell him.

He only nodded.

"Why did you become an actor? Was it because of Jeremy?" I asked.

"My mother..." he began, then stopped and looked at me, unsure if he should speak the next words.

I nodded, trying to encourage him, curious to know who was that guy who beat up a photographer and had all those nasty articles about him on the internet. There was a lot of gossip out there, but still, I didn't know the real Guy.

Damn it. The memory of the interview with the photographer sent a shiver down my back and reminded me that being here could be dangerous. Not that Guy had shown any signs of aggression since I arrived at his house, but I didn't really know him.

"It was my decision" he said finally "It was hard to detach me from my father. I was always getting called to act in these silly romantic comedies with the cute guy."

"Were you the cute guy?"

"Please, Daisy" he said "Until Mr. Darcy's paper appears. I was a little younger than the character in the books, but Lorelai said I was the best at the auditions."

"You did well," I admitted. I wouldn't say that just to inflate Guy Carver's already inflated ego, I meant it. "I'm sure girls all over the world wished they had a Mr. Darcy too."

"Were you one of them?" Guy smiled.

"No, I had a boyfriend."

"Obviously" he said dismissively. "Anyway, I just came down to tell you about Stacker and that Thatcher is having a party at his house next week. You're coming. We'll convince him that we are a real couple."

"There will be celebrities at this party?"

"I'm not going to introduce you to Henry Cavill." he said, raising a finger in my direction.

"That wouldn't hurt, you know" I said with a smile on my face. "Look, I don't think I have clothes for a party that fancy"

"We can provide a dress later." he said, unimportantly. "Well, I'm going back to sleep. Tomorrow, we're getting married."

Guy was leaving the kitchen, but I remembered something and shouted his name.

He turned around with his eyebrows raised and his lips down in a grimace.

"You didn't make me a formal proposal," I said.

"I'm not..."

He abruptly stopped talking when he saw my steady gaze.