by Holly Rayner
***
My already-heinous travel time was exacerbated by the detour Jack had forced me on with his surprise flight to Canada. I had to grab the last seat on a puddle-jumper to get me to the nearest city with an airport that serviced the Middle East, and then had to wait for a flight to Al-Dali holed up in the Diamond Club Lounge. I got a few stares as I made my way through the airport, but nobody stopped to ask me for an autograph. Maybe it was the fury still rolling through my body from Jack’s stunt; no-one wanted to approach a fuming woman.
I was able to get a seat in first class, and though it was nothing compared to the luxury of a private jet, I was just glad to have gotten a flight so quickly. I believed Jack when he said he had already sent the evidence to Zane. Every second that passed was another second he could be getting more hurt and angry due to Jack's lies. There was nothing I could do right now; I just had to pray I got to Al-Dali before the future I’d imagined for Zane and I was crushed forever.
I hailed a taxi outside the terminal after landing and asked the driver to take me to the palace. He turned in his seat and gave me a funny look, until he recognized my face and saw the stack of money I was waving in front of it. We got to the palace in less than fifteen minutes, expertly winding through city traffic. When we reached the gate and found it closed, the driver indicated he couldn’t go any further, and asked me what he wanted me to do.
It wasn’t a dignified solution, but it was the only one I had. I paid the driver and thanked him, then got my luggage out of the car and walked up to the security panel installed on one of the massive stone pillars. The taxi driver hadn’t yet pulled away; he stood there next to his car, leaning on the open door, watching me curiously. He must have thought this was some kind of joke.
“Great, like I need an audience for everything,” I muttered to myself.
I couldn’t waste any more time. Unable to read the language on the security panel door, I pushed the button that looked well worn. After a few moments, a curt male voice came over the speaker, addressing me in what sounded like Arabic.
“Please, can I speak to the Sheikh?” I begged into the mic. “This is Julianne Wood. It’s urgent that I speak with him.”
A few moments went by, and I was worried I’d been blown off, but then a different voice returned, speaking English. “Who is this? State your business. This is government property and our agents are authorized to use force if necessary.”
Judging by his calm reaction, I guessed the taxi driver didn’t speak much English, or he would have turned and sped out of there. As it was, he just stared at me like he was watching a movie, chin perched on his door.
“This is Julianne Wood, the actress. I was a guest of the Sheikh a few days ago. I need to speak with him, and I didn’t have any other way to contact him.”
“Yes, Miss Wood, I remember you. This is highly unusual.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. But this is really important. Please, let me in. I need to speak with him.”
The line went dead again, and I waited with my nerves on fire. Even though his presence was annoying, I found myself grateful the taxi driver hadn’t run off yet. His services could be useful if things didn’t go my way.
But the voice came back on with a huff. “You may enter. The driver can bring you up to the entrance.”
With that, the gilded gate creaked and began to swing open. The taxi driver’s eyes widened, his jaw dropping; this was probably the most exciting day of his career.
“Take me up there,” I said to him.
He laughed and clapped his hands, gesturing for me to get back into the car. This must have been his first visit to the palace, because he stared at the landscape exactly as I had a few days earlier. Maybe it would become some great story he could tell his driver buddies, one of those fares they would never believe. He probably thought I was a crazy American who was going to embarrass myself in front of his Sheikh. He hadn't expected the gate to open.
Secretly, I had feared the same thing.
He slowly took the winding driveway, paved along the path of an ancient road, until we arrived at the front stairs. The guards let me out of the car and spoke to the driver in his tongue, offering him even more money than I had as soon as he had unloaded my luggage. The driver said something and gave a polite wave before climbing in his car and driving off.
I looked up the stairs. From the ornate wooden double doors, Zane appeared wearing a beautiful white suit with a vibrant orange flower tucked in his breast pocket. I braced myself to deal with his anger, or worse, disappointment, before I looked at his face.
SEVENTEEN
There was no trace of negativity on his gorgeous face when I looked at him. Instead, he only smiled, thoroughly happy to see me.
“Julianne!” he said warmly. “What an unexpected surprise. I thought for sure the security boys were pulling my leg when they told me you were out front with your suitcase.”
Nervous, I had to laugh at how silly I must have looked. I ascended the steps and faced him with a confused expression. “I’m sorry for the unexpected drop-in, Zane. I’m glad to be back, too. Frankly, I was worried you wouldn’t want to see me.”
“Not want to see you? Nonsense.” He wrapped me in his strong arms and held me tightly. He smelled amazing, like jasmine and the soft heat of a desert night. Instantly my fear and dread melted out of my muscles, replaced by the warmth of his loving embrace.
I threw my arms around his body and got lost in the sensation of his muscled body against me. I felt like he was the only thing in the world holding me together.
“Might your showing up here have something to do with a certain video I received this morning?” he said gently.
“Oh my God, you won’t believe what happened,” I said, my face still pressed against his chest. “I didn’t plan on showing up on your doorstep like this, but I got tricked into heading to a set in Canada and it’s all tied up with why you were sent that stupid video. I knew I had to come here and fix this. I didn’t want you to believe his lies,” I babbled.
“Who did this?” he asked, his voice suddenly stern.
“Jack Lister,” I growled. “He was waiting for me at my house when I got back from my trip here, and tried to offer me some huge part if I was willing to fake a reconciliation with him to promote the movie. I refused, and apparently he didn’t like that very much.”
“What do you mean?” Zane brushed a piece of hair from my face as he listened, staring at me intently.
“He texted me from a foreign number and tricked me into thinking he was you, inviting me to take another private plane ride over. I thought I would be going back to Al-Dali to meet with you, but it turned out I was being taken to Canada for my first day working on a movie I had refused to be involved in. And then…”
Here was the painful part, and I took a deep breath before I could proceed. “Then he told me he knew all about you, and about us… He sent you that video to make you think that we were back together. He’s trying to chase you off so that I won’t have anyone or anything but him to lean on. I had to come here and set things straight.”
Zane listened carefully, his dark eyes full of emotion. “Jack Lister is playing a dangerous game,” he replied darkly. “Impersonating a foreign dignitary is a crime your country takes very seriously.”
“It’s par for the course for him; he thinks he’s untouchable. I need you to know the truth about that tape, Zane,” I said. “It’s not real, I would never reconcile with Jack. I haven’t gone near him since we broke up. Being around him makes me sick.”
“I know you wouldn’t, Julianne,” Zane assured me with a smile. “As I said, Lister is playing a dangerous game, and like most fools who play games they don’t understand, he has underestimated his enemy.”
“How do you mean?” I asked, unable to quite believe that Zane wasn’t even a little bothered by the footage he had been sent. “You mean you knew it was fake all along?”
Zane nodded.
“Jack assumes that everyone thinks like him. He doesn’t value you or your work, and he thinks I don’t, either. He didn’t for a moment consider that I might have seen every one of your films—including all the deleted scenes, like the one he sent me.”
A sly smile appeared on the corners of his full lips as he continued. “He’s a very foolish man. I recognized the scene the moment I saw it. My security staff and I had a good laugh over it. Is this how the higher tiers of Hollywood really do their business, through terrible blackmail attempts?”
I laughed in abject relief, my hand over my heart. “Oh my God, you don’t know how glad I am to hear you say that. I’ve spent the last fourteen hours convinced you would never want to see me again.” I paused for a moment before continuing. “Okay, admittedly I also spent some of that time planning my elaborate revenge scheme.”
Zane chuckled and put his hand under my chin. “Don’t worry, my dear. I may have inherited my position as ruler, but my country would never accept a stupid leader. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t a little smarter than self-interested cowards like Jack Lister. I don’t blame you for what has happened, and I’m sorry that his childish behavior has upset you so much. What can I do to make you feel better? Anything—just name it, and it’s yours.”
“Anything?” I said in a teasing voice. “What if I want to eat an entire chocolate cake while we watch movies all night?”
“I would say let’s give the palace chef a call and get him started on the richest, most decadent chocolate cake that’s ever been created by man.”
I giggled and nuzzled against Zane. He lowered his face to mine, then, and gave me a deep kiss, his tongue dancing with mine. We stayed that way for long enough that some of the security guards started to shift uncomfortably, trying not to watch.
“I think a restful evening is in order,” Zane whispered, rubbing his nose against mine. “You’ve been through a lot these last few days.”
“I agree, but that won’t be enough,” I told him.
“What do you mean?”
“I was only half-kidding when I said I want revenge on Jack. I’m tired of him having power over my life. I was a stupid kid when I got with him, I admit that, and I’ve suffered for it—more than I think I deserved. I want to do something to make sure he never tries to mess with me or anyone else again.”
Zane listened to my admission and didn’t admonish me for my feelings. He seemed to understand implicitly what I was saying.
“Your instincts are not wrong, Julianne. A man like Jack doesn’t understand or care about boundaries, and he will keep taking until you stop him. I’ve seen men like him working in the halls of politics all too often, and they must be approached like wild animals.”
“So help me,” I begged. “If you know how to deal with guys like him, help me think of some way to get back at him.”
“Well, I do have access to a few royal assassins…”
My eyes went wide. “Are you serious?”
Zane laughed out loud. “No, of course not, I was just kidding.” He chuckled and kissed the top of my head. “Besides, we can take out the teeth and claws of a wild animal without killing it. We can make it so he has no choice but to stop hurting people if he wants to survive.”
“How would we do that?”
He put his arm around my shoulder and led me into the cool air of the palace as he hummed in thought. “Well, what do we know about Jack right now? Is he taking on the Canada project for certain?”
“Yeah, there’s no way he would resist,” I replied. “It sounds like he may have called in a few favors to land it, too. He won’t leave unless he’s fired.”
“So we know where he’s working,” said Zane. “Which is insider information, since the movie hasn’t been announced yet. That means the production might still be in its initial stages and accepting investors.”
“Sure,” I agreed. “That’s likely.”
“What if we called the studio heads and offered to finance the movie?” suggested Zane.
I frowned, confused. “Finance his movie? But wouldn’t that be helping Jack? You know, like the opposite of what we’re trying to do?”
“Not if we attach conditions that end up being not so helpful to him,” Zane finished in a mischievous voice. “I’m no expert, but I understand the movie industry to be like most other industries—the more zeroes you offer to finance something, the more control you get to have over it. And I just so happen to have a lot of zeroes available for such a worthy cause.”
I liked the sound of that. I wrapped my arms around his waist and smiled up at him. “Ooh, tell me more, Your Highness.”
He bent down and gave my nose a delicate little kiss. “I think I will—over chocolate cake in the cinema room. Would you care to join me?”
“Revenge and cake? How could I resist?”
EIGHTEEN
We didn’t implement the plan right away. It was Zane’s idea to be patient and wait, and I didn’t want to rush and ruin his plan. He said it was win-win: I got the chance to rest after all my stress, he got the chance to spend more uninterrupted time with me, and the break gave Jack time to forget about what he had done, so he would be even more unprepared when the time came. We took a few days off to cuddle and talk and watch movie after movie, from both Hollywood and Al-Dali cinema, feeding our passion for each other’s culture.
Once we had gotten our rest, Zane had Shara make the necessary calls to the Roland Brothers, whose studio Jack had said was in charge of the blockbuster. The Rolands ran one of the largest and most successful studios in Hollywood, and had been in the industry for decades. I’d met them in passing once or twice at events, and they had a reputation for being strict businessmen who were only interested in the bottom line. If anyone could be bought, it was them. Once Shara had established the Sheikh’s reputation, his passion for Hollywood cinema, and his interest in financing, she was connected straight to one of the brothers. She insisted on Zane meeting with the Rolands on set in Canada, so that he could inspect all elements of the production himself.
It was a big gambit; men as powerful as the Rolands did not take kindly to being ordered around by others, especially those outside the industry. But Zane’s money was just too tempting for them; they were a lot like Jack in that way. They agreed to reorganize their busy schedules and meet with Zane in Canada, along with the film’s director, and, of course, its lead actor, Jack Lister.
We boarded Zane’s jet for the flight to Canada, and I was happy to see that Raj and Nareem were with us this time. They buzzed like excited children when they realized Zane and I were romantically involved. People being excited about my personal life would always feel weird to me, no matter how famous I got, but Zane took it in his stride and gushed proudly about me. It was sweet and refreshing, and being with him on the flight made the ten-hour journey fly by.
When we landed, we were picked up by a black town car with tinted windows—a much more menacing-looking vehicle than those Zane usually rode around in.
“I did that on purpose,” he said when I pointed it out. “I’m trying to cultivate a character here: the mysterious sheikh with a dark past.”
“Dark past?” I laughed. “You make yourself sound like some kind of mob boss.”
“That’s kind of what I want them to think,” he replied, opening the door for me. “This place isn’t very big, and I bet the movie industry is the biggest player in town. People talk, rumors will trickle back to the set and give Jack a false impression that he will plan to deal with in our meeting. We will make him shoot himself in the foot; it’s much more efficient.”
“You’re pretty sexy when you do this spy stuff, you know that?” I said, nuzzling against his stubble and kissing him.
“Bond. Zane Bond,” he said, his voice dark and silky, giving me chills.
We got in the car to head for the small but bustling town where the studio was filming. The meeting was planned for later that day, but Zane planned on arrivin
g late, making them wait on him to offset the balance of power in the room.
So we made a date of the day, and had some fun on a little mini-vacation. We wasted time in the tiny lakeside tourist town, browsing local shops and eating ice cream, touring art galleries and enjoying the beautiful scenery. It was pretty satisfying, letting people speculate about who we were and why we were being followed by tough men in dark suits. No one seemed to recognize us, or at least didn’t care enough to take a picture, but Zane was right about rumors brewing that might get back to Jack.
Once we were running half an hour late, we climbed back in the car and headed for the set, which was set up on the outskirts of town with easy access to a neighborhood street set, a boat dock, and a beautiful waterfall tucked in the forest.
I’d heard about this place before, but never visited it myself. Lots of filming, both TV and movies, went on here, thanks to Canada’s tax incentives for filming in its borders, and I instantly recognized the set pieces of at least three shows and two movies as we waited for the driver to let us out of the car. It seemed like an idyllic place to be stuck while shooting.
“Are you ready?” Zane asked me one last time as the car pulled up to the offices.
“Absolutely,” I replied. “This has been a long time coming for Jack. I’m glad I could be here for it.”
He nodded and took my hand. With the other, he cupped my face and leaned down to kiss me, deeply and gently.
With a soft voice, he said, “He’s going to try and upset you. He wants to make you feel weak and unstable in front of the powerful men in the room. Don’t let him. Remember, we’ve already won this battle. All we have to do is go inside and claim our victory according to plan.”
The strength in Zane’s voice and eyes was intoxicating, and made me feel powerful just by being near him. Zane’s power was real and came from inside; it was the natural charisma Jack would always wish for but never achieve.
I nodded firmly and looked Zane in the eyes. “Jack has gotten under my skin for the very last time. Today, it’s him that loses, and he’s going to lose big.”
He smiled. “That’s my girl. Now, let’s not keep these gentlemen waiting any longer.”
NINETEEN
Zane had been right about how off-balance the room would feel when powerful men were kept waiting. There was anger and tension in the air that immediately dissipated when Zane walked in, tall and strong, with no explanation and no apologies for his tardiness. His bodyguards had entered a few minutes ahead of us and already checked everyone for weapons; now they flanked us on either side of the doorway, stoic and intimidating.
In the modest satellite office of the large studio, both of the Roland brothers were leaning against the mahogany desk. They jumped up straight when we entered. The director of the movie stood with his arms folded, looking somehow both nervous and inconvenienced. Hunched down in one of the chairs was Jack, who didn’t even bother standing up to greet us, as was his indignant nature. I imagined he was very bothered by the wait, and by the security guards treating him like a normal person. I wished I had been in the room to see him huffing about it.
“I am Sheikh Zane bin Alaman,” announced Zane, without further explanation.
The men exchanged glanced with each other, unsure, off-kilter. Then the director took a few paces forward and stretched out his hand. “I’m Evan Yates, I’m the director of—”
“Who is in charge here?” Zane interrupted in a deep, commanding voice. “I’m here to meet the Roland brothers.”
The director recoiled, insulted. Zane was good at playing this part.
“That would be us,” said one of the men in the expensive suits. “I’m Steven Roland, and this is my brother Thomas. I spoke to you on the phone.”
“Excellent,” said Zane, shaking Steven’s hand.
“Is that Julianne Wood?” asked Thomas, pointing at me like I was a ghost. “What the hell is she doing here?”
“That’s none of your concern,” replied Zane.
But Jack couldn’t help himself, making some mumbled comment about me being Zane’s sugar baby. Everyone in the room turned to look at him; the Rolands looked like they were ready to kill him.
Despite my anger at his predictable childishness, I did what Zane had suggested and kept my cool, not giving in to Jack’s bait. I stood tall and didn’t give him the dignity of a response. All he ever wanted was attention, and it was deeply satisfying to deny him it.
“And who is this?” Zane said, gesturing to Jack.
Jack snorted and stood up. He was a good half-head shorter than Zane, and much less imposing, but he still stood in front of him trying to size him up. It was pathetic to watch, and made me embarrassed that I’d ever found Jack’s mannerisms attractive.
Jack scoffed again, trying to act blasé. “That’s okay, I’m sure they don’t get good movies in wherever it is that you’re from. Do they even have theaters, or do you just gather around the local storyteller?”
“Sit down and shut up, Lister,” commanded Thomas. “No one asked you to talk.”
Jack ignored both of them. He laid eyes on me and looked me up and down in an effort to make me uncomfortable. “I knew you’d be back, kitten,” he smiled.
Instead of giving him the angry, upset reaction he was clearly expecting, I just smiled at him. “You were so right, Jack. Here I am.”
It worked. I glimpsed a satisfying flash of fear in his eyes as he shut up, seemingly lost for words.
“As I said during our phone conversation, I would like to discuss contributing to the financing of your movie, gentlemen,” Zane began.
“And we are very interested in having this conversation,” replied Stephen. “If I may ask, how did you hear about this production?”
“I have friends in important places, just as I’m sure you gentlemen do,” replied Zane. “Friends in in the industry who keep me abreast of the latest potential investments. I have a long-standing interest in cinema, and I’m looking to become more involved.”
“More involved in seducing its stars, perhaps,” Jack muttered under his breath. He was once again ignored by the other men in the room, and it seemed like the lack of attention was making him grow desperate, like a whiny toddler. It was amusing to watch. It was rare that Jack’s charm couldn’t get him out of a jam.
“Let’s cut to the chase, Sheikh bin Alaman. What would it take to get you to invest in our production? We’re willing to consider a broad range of options,” said Evan.
From his inner pocket, Zane produced a neatly folded contract and handed it to the studio heads. As they read it over, he paraphrased. “I’m happy to double the current budget for the production, so long as I am given the concessions I have listed in the contract in front of you. Those are my terms, and they are non-negotiable.”
They read it over slowly, muttering out loud from time to time. “Visits to the set, name listed in credits, a small extra role…all of these are perfectly do-able,” said Stephen.
“Wait, what’s this?” asked Thomas, pressing his finger down on one section. “Auditions? Why? We’ve already selected most of the cast—some of them are here already. Trust me, this part is best left to industry professionals; it’s very convoluted.”
This was the part I had warned Zane about—the “hands are tied” line I knew he would get when they ran into the conditions list. To prepare him, I had told Zane everything I knew about how our contracts worked, and how studios regularly got out of them without repercussions thanks to their financial power.
In reality, the studio heads could do almost whatever they wanted, including everything Zane was asking. But they had to haggle; they had to look strong. They couldn’t just lay down in front of a foreign investor and give him everything he asked for without a fight. Luckily, Zane was prepared for such a battle.
Zane shrugged as he helped himself to a bright green apple sitting in a fruit bowl on a table next to the desk. As planned, I retreated to the rear of the room and start
ed to mess around on my phone, doing my best to look bored. With the exception of Zane, everyone in the room was sexist enough to believe it.
“As I’m sure you understand, I don’t want to invest my money in a sub-par cast,” replied Zane. “So I would like them to audition once again, this time for me, so that I can ensure they are the best choice for the part. It shouldn’t take very long, assuming your casting directors are good at their jobs. Hopefully I won’t need to replace many roles.”
“Mr. bin Alaman, do you have any experience in the movie industry?” asked Evan, his arms folded again. He was clearly attempting to sound condescending.
“Why yes, I do,” smiled Zane. “And I would like to watch another audition process. My conditions are non-negotiable, gentleman. If they are unacceptable, I’m happy to take my investment elsewhere. I know there are studios producing rival projects to this that would be happy to fit me into their schedule in exchange for a doubled budget.”
“Now, now,” interrupted Stephen as he flipped the page on Zane’s contract. “Let’s not be hasty. We just have to be careful with our other investors. They don’t typically have the kind of power you’re asking for, but we didn’t say you couldn’t have it.”
“Are you serious?” Jack interrupted, anger and petulance in his voice. “You’re going to let this nobody come in here and try to recast the movie? We had a deal! I’m not auditioning for a part I’ve already won!”
“Shut up, Lister,” scolded Thomas, anger in his eyes. “You’re lucky you’re here in the first place, and now you want to stand in the way of doubling our funding? Do you care about the success of this project or not?”
Jack rolled his eyes. “Of course I do, this is my career on the line, too.”
“Yeah, you’re sure right it is. And that career isn’t going to be helped if you stand in the way of a revenue stream, do you understand me? You’re making me want to recast you just to get your incompetence out of my sight.”
Jack clamped his mouth shut, finally one-upped. His face reddened. He hated losing a fight.
The studio heads ignored the director and lead actor as they had a pow-wow together, making a decision on the offer in front of them. Zane bit into the apple patiently, letting the room fill with the sound. Jack glared at him, but Zane didn’t bother giving him a glance.
“Mr. bin Alaman, I think we have a deal,” said Stephen after the brothers turned around. “We are willing to meet your terms for the agreed-upon funding.”
“What?!” exclaimed Jack.
“Excellent,” smiled Zane. “Well, since we have the male lead right here waiting, let’s not waste any more time. He can perform his audition right here and now, so that we can move on with the process as quickly as possible.”
“That’s fine,” agreed Stephen. He and Thomas moved back from the desk and gestured to the open floor, a makeshift stage.
“Jack, you heard the man,” said Thomas.
“I can’t believe this,” growled Jack, shaking his head. “I’ve already got the part for this movie. I’m the goddam star.”
“Not until you convince him you should have it, you don’t,” said Thomas. “So get up there and prove it.”
