by Lisa Daniels
Cypress had dated her briefly when he had started out and while they hadn’t exactly connected on a spiritual level, she nowhere resembled the melodramatic shrew she had become in the aftermath of her fame. She hadn’t put out a hit in over three years and her fanbase had all but forgotten about her.
Cypress wondered if seeing her was simply a reminder of his own mortality in the business, but he couldn’t accept that.
I’m not that far gone, am I?
The problem was, it was hard not to see himself as anything but when everyone else around him were B-list at best.
When did it all go so wrong?
He was loath to consider that he was clinging to threads of a great past. Maybe Sam was right. Maybe it was time to move onto another calling before he was a laughingstock.
If I’m not already.
The taping had wrapped for the day, but Cypress barely remembered any of it. He’d gone through the choregraphed moves without any pride or excitement. The only time he’d put real effort into the show was when he was paired with Rowan. Then, he had made sure to misstep and screw up the routine. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than being coupled with her for the entire season.
If I don’t get cut before that.
And then there was that. For the most part, the show was scripted—despite the “reality” aspect of the marketing. While he couldn’t be sure he’d last all the way through, he knew that the less-popular celebrities would undoubtedly be shown the door before him. He had a look that made people want to turn on the TV.
But then again, so did Rowan, even in the throes of her addiction. Moreover, she was guaranteed to cause drama, which was what the audience demanded.
Why did I agree to this? I can’t believe I’m doing this.
He grabbed his duffle bag from his dressing room and spun to leave. He couldn’t get out of the studio fast enough.
And I’ve only got three more months of this shit to go.
It didn’t suit him, being in such a sullen mood, but no matter how he tried to shake it off, the darkness only grew inside him. All he wanted to do was go home and play Red Dead Redemption for six hours, thereby forgetting he was failing in life.
“Mr. Landry?”
He looked up, his eyes falling on the Director of Television for the studio. A twinge of energy shot through him as he took in her face, her loveliness striking him for the second time that day.
“Ms. Kinrade.”
She smiled tersely, the expression not quite reaching her golden-brown eyes as she ran a hand through her shoulder-length chestnut waves quickly. Cypress was once again drawn to the interesting lines of her face, the detail of her upturned nose, the glimmer of bemusement in her eyes. Earlier, he had been delighted by the way she’d put Rowan in her place, but the day had been too hectic for him to think about it again until that moment. Yet as he stared at her intently, he wondered how he’d managed to forget her for even a moment.
“I just wanted to thank you for showing today. I realize you must have a busy schedule and you truly are the star of this show.”
The words hit Cypress with much greater force than he expected and he was temporarily lost for words as he stared at her.
“What?” he managed to say dumbly. Graciela blinked and looked at him in confusion.
“What what?”
“You think I’m the star of the show?” he asked dubiously. She snorted and flashed a set of pearly white teeth at him.
“Who did you think the draw was? Rowan Woods?”
There was a contempt in her voice which surprised Cypress somehow although he didn’t know why.
“I hadn’t given it much thought,” he lied. “I guess everyone here is a star in their own right.”
Her dark, perfect eyebrow shot up and Cypress saw that if she was wearing makeup, it was minimal.
She’s a natural beauty in this completely unnatural world. The idea was foreign and somehow enticing.
“On the topic of Rowan Woods,” she continued, “she won’t be partnered with you.”
Relief caused Cypress’ shoulders to sag.
“Oh no?” he asked innocently. “We didn’t work well together?”
“I think you know full well that you had no interest in partnering with her,” Graciela replied confidently.
“What makes you say that?” He was genuinely curious how she could have known. Although he hadn’t put in any great effort, he was sure he hadn’t been overt about sabotaging their pairing.
The exec laughed and Cypress felt his skin prickle with pleasure at the sound. In fact, the more he stared at her, the more intrigued the dragon felt by the woman.
“I was watching you closely,” she replied without shame. “I find it interesting that you only faltered when you danced with her and no one else. In fact, you were flawless in every other combination. Either she was messing you up or you were deliberately throwing your routine. In any case, it doesn’t look good on camera.”
A beam curved over his lips before he could stop it.
“You were watching me closely, were you?” he said instead of admitting or denying anything. Graciela didn’t waver.
“Of course. That’s my job.”
“Oh.”
“You sound disappointed.”
There was was a mocking lilt in her voice, but Cypress couldn’t decide if she was flirting with him or attacking him.
“Not in the least. How could I be disappointed to know that a beautiful woman is watching me?”
Graciela guffawed aloud and Cypress’ smile faded slightly.
“Forgive me for laughing, Mr. Landry, but you don’t need to flatter me. I’m not going to help advance your career in any way.”
Embarrassment and anger flooded Cypress, his mouth falling into a scowl.
“I don’t need help with my career,” he snapped. “What a bitchy thing to say.”
He readjusted the duffle bag on his shoulder and narrowed his eyes. She seemed perplexed by his reaction.
“I just meant…” she trailed off as she considered her words. Suddenly her face hardened and she shook her head. “Never mind. See you tomorrow.”
She brushed past him to walk toward the neighboring dressing room, presumably to continue doing her rounds, leaving Cypress to stare after her. He wondered if he was being over-sensitive and had misunderstood the exchange somehow. Why would she have said that he was the star of the show and then told him he needed help boosting his career by befriending her? It didn’t make sense and he was beginning to feel like an ass for having overreacted.
This is only day one and I’m already doubting everything about this. I’ll wait for Graciela and apologize for snapping at her, he decided, but he wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to do either. His gut told him to just get home to his Park Avenue penthouse and start fresh again tomorrow. He didn’t have a chance to move an inch when Rowan’s voice called out in annoyance.
“Oh my God! Can you believe that we’re not being paired together? We have to let them re-audition us tomorrow. I know you were having an off day but we can do better. Remember when we went to Olé and danced until sunrise? People couldn’t stop staring at us! We are amazing together. How stupid do these producers have to be not to see that?”
“That was almost ten years ago, Row,” Cypress reminded her, eyeing her through his peripheral vision.
And you weren’t high off your face.
“Was it really? It feels like it was just last year!”
Cypress would have bet good money that she didn’t remember a good chunk of the past decade. It was probably better for her that way.
“I have to go, Row. I have some things to take care of tonight.”
“Oh, I’ll come!” she squealed and Cypress saw the glazing in her eyes. She was definitely stoned. He knew the look well and he found it disheartening that she had fallen to such depths.
And shamelessly. She’s not apologetic in the least.
“Sorry—I’m meeting my lawyer
,” Cypress lied. “You know how it is—privilege crap.”
“Ooh, sounds juicy. Suing someone?” Rowan asked. Cypress’ brow furrowed slightly.
“No. I really have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow, all right?”
“Hey, we’ll order a redo!” Rowan called after him but he didn’t hear her. Reluctantly, he looked over his shoulder, more because he was hoping to catch a glimpse of Graciela Kinrade before he left than to see Rowan. The singer was still smiling after him but the executive was nowhere to be found.
I’ll catch up with her tomorrow, he vowed.
~ ~ ~
The penthouse had always been a safe haven for Cypress with its elegant décor and handpicked furniture. Of the three properties he owned, the New York apartment was his favorite, only because it enabled him to feel removed from the rest of civilization. It suited him seeing as he was very much alone in the world.
Once, the Landrys had reigned over a decent plot in Europe, spreading their wings and flying over the landscape freely and without worry, but times had changed a great deal, the dragons falling into the comforts of the modern age and forgetting their origins. Gone were the days of battle and pillage of dragons versus mortals. Now, the few dragons who remained lived in among the commoners as though their bloodlines were the same. Soon, there would be no dragons left and their legacy would only be legend.
Cypress longed for those days sometimes as he stood on the balcony overlooking Central Park, staring down at the tiny figures scurrying about, each consumed in their own worlds and oblivious to anything or anyone else.
Not that Cypress could claim any differently. He had wrapped himself up in his career, mostly to forget his own past. Why should he remember it? There was nothing to go back to, after all. His family, his weyr, all gone.
Is that why I’m clinging to this idea of remaining an actor? Because it consumes me entirely?
Truthfully, he was surprised he hadn’t thought to try his hand in Hollywood before. Maybe if he’d started at the birth of the golden age, he would have gone further.
He knew of some dragons who had carried on the same career for centuries, pretending to be their own children and grandchildren as time passed. He could have been a star for years.
Or I would have failed miserably then, too.
He sank onto his suede sofa and flipped on the television, aimlessly scrolling through channels, looking for something to watch. There was no energy nor desire to set up the PS3. He just wanted to zone out for the day. He debated going out that night, but dawn would come too early and he really didn’t want to be in another mood in the morning when he saw Graciela.
At least I’m not stuck dancing with Rowan, he mused and the knowledge made him feel better, but not enough to lift the heaviness in his chest.
If there was one thing that the day had taught him was that he wasn’t cut out for this kind of thing. He might be an actor, but pretending to be someone he wasn’t was not something that Cypress did with ease.
His cell rang and Cypress reached for it, inhaling when he saw Sam’s number pop up.
“Hello, handsome,” the agent purred in his ear. “I’m just making sure you got to filming all right.”
“Have I ever not?” Cypress asked dryly, mildly surprised by the check-in.
“Of course not, baby. That’s why you’re my favorite client.”
Instantly, Cypress thought of Graciela.
“How could I be disappointed to know that a beautiful woman is watching me?”
That’s what he had said to her and she had instantly gotten defensive. She had a discerning eye for BS and had seen right through his cheesy line.
Just like Sam is BSing me now.
“Cy? You still there?”
“I’m here.”
“Did everything go all right?”
“Rowan Woods is on the show.”
“Oh dear. Is that going to be a problem?” Sam asked, but Cypress knew even if he said yes, there was nothing his agent could or would do about it. The contract was signed and Sam didn’t care about interpersonal relationships.
“Probably not. She seems convinced that we’re supposed to dance together.”
“You two did make a pretty couple back before she started shooting all her money into her veins,” Sam offered.
“We were never a couple,” Cypress growled. “We went out a few times.”
In fact, they hadn’t even been intimate, despite Rowan’s endless pushing. She hadn’t understood it, but Cypress couldn’t bring himself to connect with her, despite her beauty and then-innocence. Sex for Cypress was something more than just a lustful attraction—he needed to feel something deeply for it to happen.
And I probably dodged a bullet there.
“Well, you’re single and so is she,” Sam cooed. “Unless you’ve decided to change teams.”
“I’m still not gay, Sam,” Cypress grunted. “But thanks for asking.”
“You should give her a chance. She could use a good influence in her life and let’s face it, Cy, as far as Hollywood goes, you’re as good as it gets.”
For the second time that day, Cypress found himself almost blushing at compliments.
First Graciela, then Sam. Maybe the Academy is going to come knocking and nominate me for an Oscar.
The thought was amusing—he hadn’t had a movie in the top five in over two years.
“I have no interest in dating anyone, Sam,” Cypress replied. “But thanks for thinking of me as a rehab center for lost souls.”
Sam was unusually quiet, almost as if he was disappointed by the response, but Cypress didn’t give it much thought. He realized he was exhausted. Dancing had taken a lot out of him.
“Thanks for checking in, Sam,” he said. “I’m going to call in for a massage and UberEATS, have a dip in the Jacuzzi, and go to bed.”
“Sounds like a good night,” Sam chuckled. “Wouldn’t it be better if you had someone there to share it with you?”
“Okay, I’m officially hanging up now. Have a good night, Sam.”
He disconnected the call before Sam could respond, but the agent’s words lingered in his mind long after he’d laid the cell at his side.
I wonder if Graciela Kinrade has someone to go home to tonight.
He hadn’t seen a ring on her finger, but that didn’t mean anything in their line of work or in this day and age.
Things have changed so much, become so complicated.
From somewhere in the back of his tired mind, he envisioned Graciela in a long gown of lace and satin, gloves on her long fingers as she twirled through the ballroom of a manor house.
It felt like a memory and a dream, and Cypress settled back against the cushions of the sofa. He closed his eyes, permitting the exhaustion to take full hold. Maybe he would forsake the food and massage and go right for his bed.
But even moving from his spot seemed insurmountable suddenly and just like that, he was asleep.
Chapter Four
Always on My Mind
High tempo salsa music rocked the studio and Graciela’s eyes were pinioned on the couple whirling over the floor, their bodies almost blurring as they stepped in perfect rhythm against one another.
“There it is!” Stan cried, clapping his hands with excitement. “Finally! Our first couple of the competition!”
Graciela had to admit the judge was right—Cypress and Carlie were perfect together.
He’s going to take them all the way with those moves. Jesus.
She couldn’t shake the feeling of jealousy growing in her, watching Carlie being bent this way and that against his strong arms.
I should have been an actress, she thought for the first time in her life. Then maybe I’d be the one on Dance Divas, being bent backward by Cypress Landry.
The truth was, Graciela had been unable to stop thinking about Cypress all night. She had tossed and turned, the memory of his enigmatic eyes boring into her every time she pressed her lids together.
He’s
just another handsome actor, she had tried to reason with herself, but no matter how she spun it, she couldn’t deny that she was unhealthily attracted to him.
Get him out of your head. He’s way out of your league.
“You can’t be serious!” Rowan screeched, thrusting Graciela back to reality. “We did a much better job together!”
No one paid her any mind and as the song ended, the entire cast and crew burst into applause while the couple parted.
“Wow!” Jennika breathed, rising from her seat. “That was amazing. I don’t even have to lie! You guys are going to the top with this. Now do it again. We need to get that on film.”
Cypress looked toward Graciela, their eyes locking as he wiped sweat from his gleaming brow.
“I need a minute,” he said, but no one but Graciela seemed to hear him as the area filled with grunts to deal with the lighting and sound.
“This is bullshit!” Rowan yelled, her face contorting in anger. “You need to give us another shot. Yesterday was too hectic for us to do anything properly.”
“Rowan, sit down. We’ll find you a partner,” Riley grumbled, apparently annoyed with her endless bitching.
“No! I want our redo that I was promised!” Rowan turned and looked at Graciela, her eyes narrowing. “You promised me a redo!”
The exec couldn’t smother a snort of derision.
“I did no such thing,” she replied shortly, turning her attention back toward Cypress, who remained eyeing her through his peripheral vision as he took a long sip of water from a Dasani bottle. She couldn’t take her eyes off his muscled frame and she wondered what he had done last night.
It’s none of your damned business what he did last night. Remember how rude he was to you?
Still, she couldn’t help but want to forgive him anyway. He was an actor, after all. They were nothing if not moody.
That’s no justification.
Suddenly, Cypress broke away from the group.
“Hey! Where are you going?” Val yelled. The director had finally managed to show his face for that day’s filming and Graciela knew she should be grateful for small favors. Most of the cast had shown that morning and the studio was filled with aimless celebrities, all looking to complain about something. It wasn’t even noon and her patience was already expiring.
