by Lisa Daniels
“She’s not going to handle the news well. I told you that she threatened me yesterday.”
“You did and I’m telling you that there’s nothing to worry about. She talks a lot of shit but she wouldn’t hurt you. She’s too busy hurting herself.”
Graciela wished she shared his confidence, but Rowan’s words still reverberated almost hauntingly in her head.
“I recommend that if you value your life, Graciela, you’ll stay the hell away from Cypress Landry.”
“Okay,” Graciela said without conviction.
“Graciela, if she says anything to you again, you tell me,” Cypress insisted. “I’ll have a word with her when we get to the studio. Honestly, I can’t reconcile why she’s acting like this. It really doesn’t make any sense.”
“Obviously she’s in love with you, Cy.”
He grunted.
“Even if she’s acting that way, I guarantee you that she’s not. I think the drugs have finally fried her brain.”
I need to get on the phone with her agent today. That’s the first thing I’m doing. I’ll see if I can’t nullify her contract somehow. I can’t stomach three months of this—even with Cypress on my side.
“If we’re going to do this, we really should move,” Cypress whispered, his breath tickling her ear deliciously. “We don’t want to show up too late, do we?”
Graciela turned her head and stared at him beguilingly.
“No?” she asked innocently. Her hands reached up to cup his face, drawing him closer for a kiss.
“Okay,” he relented. “Maybe just a little late.”
Chapter Seven
What Are They Up Against?
Her hand was clammy when he took it as they entered the studio, but Cypress held fast to it.
“It’s going to be fine,” he assured Graciela. “You’re just nervous about this because you haven’t done it in a while.”
She didn’t respond, but Cypress knew it was more than that. She was afraid of the backlash they might get from the others. He had only been half joking about the others complaining about favoritism, even though Graciela had no say in the outcome of the competition.
“I’m not going with you to production today,” she told him, slipping her hand out of his. “I have some calls to make.”
Disappointment touched him but Cypress willed himself to be rational. After all, it was a lot to process. He couldn’t push her if she wasn’t ready. That would only drive her further away and that was the last thing he wanted to do.
“Come and pop your head in at some point,” he called after her. “I’m ready to dance my ass off today.”
She flashed him a grin over her shoulder but disappeared into the offices without a word, leaving him to stare after her with silent admiration. Somehow, she seemed even more beautiful that day, more radiant.
“How was your date?”
The snide question could only belong to one person and without turning his head to look, Cypress answered.
“Amazing. She’s amazing. I love her.”
There was a strangled gasp of shock out of Rowan’s mouth and Cypress glanced at her in exasperation.
“You love her?” the singer echoed. “You don’t even know her!”
Cypress eyed Rowan warily.
“What is going on with you?” he demanded. “Seriously. You and I haven’t even been friends since we had those handful of dates and suddenly you’re on me like white on rice. What’s the deal, Rowan?”
She seemed taken aback by the bluntness of his query and for a moment, didn’t speak.
“I-you and I have always had a connection!” she protested and Cypress rolled his eyes.
“No,” he countered. “We didn’t. Not then and certainly not now.”
He pivoted to face her fully, his eyes beginning to glow with malice.
“And if you threaten Graciela again, I will make sure you don’t connect again. Am I clear?”
“Are you threatening me?” Rowan’s eyes widened in fury. “How dare you!”
“How dare I?” Cypress snickered. “That’s rich.”
Rowan’s mouth parted but Val’s voice rang through a bullhorn, calling them forward for the shot.
“Come on, people. We’re three days in and we’re already behind in production. You’re killing me.”
Cypress sauntered toward the director but not before he heard Rowan mutter something almost inaudibly under her breath.
“You’re mine, Cypress.”
He whirled back around, his eyes narrowing into slits.
“What did you just say?”
But she didn’t repeat herself and instead sailed past him, her dark red head held high.
“You’ll see,” she intoned as she breezed past, causing a wave of apprehension to shoot through him.
She’s out of her mind.
~ ~ ~
Carlie flopped onto the ground and brushed her damp hair out of her face.
“We’re going to win this,” the soap star told him confidently. “Have you seen those other bozos out there?”
“They’re trying their best,” Cypress replied, reaching for a towel to mop his face.
“She’s right,” their choreographer chuckled. “This bunch is a lost cause. They may as well just hand you the million bucks right now.”
“We haven’t even really started yet!” Cypress protested, feeling bad for his co-stars. He idly wondered if the choreographer didn’t say the same thing about them to the other couples, but deep down, he knew he and Carlie were killing it.
“Next week we start the actual competition,” Drake explained, sinking back against the barre. “I hope, for the sake of the show, that they shape up. I’ve lost count of the missteps.”
“You guys are terrible,” Cypress laughed. “It’s all for a good cause. You shouldn’t want any of them to fail.”
“Wanting them to fail and knowing they’re going to fail are two completely different animals,” Drake insisted. “I’ve been dancing since before I could walk. Some people were not meant to dance. I’m so glad I got you two and not that stoned singer or that homophobic redneck comedian.”
“We’re the worst Hollywood has to offer,” Cypress quipped and Carlie scowled. She didn’t like the reminder that they were the misfits of society. She had been a one-hit wonder in the late nineties but had put out a series of unmemorable singles thereafter. Still, it seemed that the reminder was a sore spot with her.
“It’s easy for you to joke like that,” Drake sighed. “You’re the only person worth a salt on the island of the forsaken.”
“Uh, I’m sitting right here,” Carlie snapped, jumping to her feet. “And now I’m going for a smoke.”
“NO SMOKING!” Drake howled, the distress on his face plaintive. He threw up his hands when Carlie ignored him and he stomped after her.
Cypress turned to study his huge, gleaming frame in the mirror, perplexity coloring his thoughts.
If he didn’t know any better, he would have believed that maybe he’d been misinformed about his declining career. First Graciela had been convinced he was delusional, now Drake.
Maybe I need to have a heart-to-heart with Sam and see what’s really going on.
He glanced at the clock over the full mirrors and noted that it was well after three. He hadn’t seen Graciela since that morning when they had parted ways and he wondered what she was doing.
She’s working, that’s what. Don’t bother her. If she has time, she’ll come to see you.
But he was a man who had just found his mate. Even as he had practiced their routine, he had been unable to get Graciela out of his mind. Silently, he had willed her to come, but she had not, fuelling his desire to see her even more.
The door to the recital spot opened.
“Sam! What are you doing here?” Cypress asked in amazement. He wondered if he’d somehow managed to summon his agent instead of his lover.
“Can’t I come and check in on my favorite client once in a while?
” Sam asked sweetly. There was something off about his tone.
“Can’t say you’ve done that since I was a newbie and you were afraid I’d throw up on Ron Howard’s shoes,” Cypress replied evenly. There was not a circumstance where he could envision his intensely busy agent taking the time to pop in on anyone, let alone a dying star.
“Maybe I’m afraid you’re going to puke on Val Wessler’s shoes,” Sam countered lightly. “How’s it going?”
“Fine…”
Sam offered him a brief smile, his beady eyes darting about as if he expected pixies to spring from the walls.
“I hear you’ve got a really good chance at winning this thing,” Sam said conversationally. “That will do wonders for your image, donating a million bucks to the Children’s Cancer Hospital.”
Cypress wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Again, he thought about how dubious Graciela had seemed that his image suffered a problem at all.
“It’s too early to tell. The audience is fickle, you know that,” Cypress replied. “It’s going to be a matter of public opinion.”
“You’re a shoo-in,” Sam assured him, seeming uncomfortable. Cypress’ eyes narrowed slightly.
“Sam, why do I feel like you’ve come here to break up with me?”
The little man laughed.
“Break up with you?” he chortled. “You’re my favorite, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember,” Cypress grumbled, not believing a word he spoke. “Seriously, what are you doing here?”
Sam lost the phony geniality and sighed.
“I heard you had a little tryst last night,” he said, dropping the act. “With one of the executives.”
Cypress’ back tensed to the point of breaking.
“Who the hell did you hear that from?” he barked defensively.
“Well, you weren’t exactly secretive about it, Cy,” Sam reminded him. “And I make it a point to know what my clients are up to.”
“First of all, it’s not a tryst,” Cypress growled. “It’s more than that. And secondly, it’s no one’s damned business.”
“It’s everyone’s damned business,” Sam retorted. “Your career is on a downward spiral, Cy. Every move you make is going to affect whether you climb back up or nosedive into oblivion for good. You claim you don’t want to end your acting career but then you do stupid shit like this.”
Cypress bristled.
“I’m sorry but how do you see this as ‘stupid shit’ exactly?” The entire conversation was taking on a surreal quality. Never in a decade had his agent ever questioned his dating choices and suddenly Sam was doing it twice in one day.
“Well, it wouldn’t really be so bad if she was only a one-night stand,” Sam sighed. “But since you seem to think there’s something more to it…”
Cypress waited, unsure of where his trusted agent and friend was going with it.
“Cy, she’s married—to a top exec at Disney.”
Time seemed to pause as he stared at Sam in disbelief.
“What?”
Sam sighed and shrugged apologetically.
“Normally I wouldn’t say anything because it’s not my business, but in this case, I don’t really have a choice in the matter. This isn’t just an affair with a married woman. This is an affair with a married woman who will put a nail in your career coffin. I won’t be able to help you out of this when her husband finds out.”
None of it made sense to Cypress, who tried to think of one moment, one second when Graciela had given him the impression that she was married. He couldn’t recall any such indication.
“No,” Cypress said flatly. “You’re wrong.”
“I wish I were,” Sam sighed. “But you can Google it yourself. In fact, I would have thought you would have Googled her before jumping into bed with her, but whatever. What’s done is done.”
Cypress’ stomach churned with disgust at both himself and Graciela.
Why would she agree to walk inside with me so publicly if she was married? Is she trying to ruin me? Or does she not care about me at all?
It was clear that her marriage wasn’t one of trust and love, but that didn’t make cheating any less disgusting. Even if Graciela despised her husband, she should be divorcing him, not breaking her marriage vows.
In four thousand years, Cypress had never been a party to the dissolution of a marriage and he was not about to start then.
“I see you’re taking this seriously,” Sam said, seeming relieved. “Good. If we’re lucky, Harold Cane never needs to hear about this. I’m sure this isn’t the first time she’s strayed and it probably won’t be the last.”
Cypress raised his head and looked at Sam in shock.
“I-I swear, she’s my mate,” Cypress breathed and his agent sighed sadly.
“How could she be, Cy? She’s clearly not a dragon.”
Cypress was sure his knees were about to give out on him, but somehow, he managed to stay up as Sam shook his head.
“Do I have your word that you’ll stay away from her?” he asked and Cypress nodded dumbly. What choice did he have? Sam had always watched out for him, after all. Who was Cypress going to trust? The woman who cheated on her husband and then flaunted it shamelessly or the man who had helped him rise into stardom?
The choice was painfully, heartbreakingly clear.
“If you need to get the bad taste out of your mouth,” Sam chirped tastelessly, “there’s always Rowan Woods.”
But Cypress barely heard him.
All he could think was that he had another eleven weeks of production left where he would see Graciela every single day.
Chapter Eight
Guarding Her Heart
As she had told Cypress, Graciela’s day was consumed with phone calls, but they had less to do with work and more to do with finding out the truth about what was going on with her lover’s career.
First, however, Graciela had gotten on the phone with Charlie Henderson.
“Of course, Ms. Kinrade!” the agent purred in a mannerism not unlike Rowan’s and instantly grinding on her nerves. “How is Dance Divas going?”
“I’m afraid there are some issues with your client, Ms. Woods,” Graciela explained without preamble. There was no point in drawing out the conversation. She wanted Charlie to rein in her client before Rowan could do any more damage than she already had.
“Oh? What issues?”
“I suspect she’s been high ever since she got here and as you know, the network prohibits drug use on set and during filming.”
There was a long pause.
“Are you sure?” Charlie finally asked, her tone cooling considerably. “Rowan has been in an out-patient program for over a year and her counsellors tell us she’s doing very well.”
“Well, they lied,” Graciela snapped. “She has threatened my life and she’s clearly on something. I am giving you the opportunity to speak with her before cutting her from the show completely.”
Graciela was lying, of course. She had no real authority to get rid of the singer, but she was hoping her bluff would start some momentum anyway.
“No! No, don’t do that,” Charlie breathed. “I’ll have a chat with her, but I have to tell you, Ms. Kinrade, I’m really surprised to hear that about her.”
That’s agent double-speak for “I’m going to kill her for not hiding it better”, Graciela thought.
“I would appreciate that.”
“Thank you for bringing this to my attention,” Charlie continued. “We’ve all been rooting for Rowan here. I would be devastated to know she’s relapsed.”
I’m sure.
“Me, too,” Graciela replied crisply. “Have a good day.”
She disconnected the call, idly considering what Rowan would do when she found out that Graciela had ratted her out.
Her next call was to Sam Santos’ office.
“Sam, please,” Graciela said curtly to the receptionist who answered.
“Who’s calling please?”
&n
bsp; “Graciela Kinrade from Realm. It’s about one of his clients.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Kinrade, but Mr. Santos isn’t in the office. Shall I have him paged for you?”
“Yes. I’m at the studio right now. The number is—”
“Oh! What a coincidence,” the girl on the phone laughed, interrupting her. “Mr. Santos is on his way to your studio this afternoon. I can have him stop by, if you want.”
“That would be lovely!” Graciela sighed with relief, but just as quickly as she exhaled, she tensed again. “Which client is he coming to see?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am, I can’t discuss our client list with anyone.”
“Is it about Cypress Landry?”
There was a slight pause.
“That’s who I’m calling about,” Graciela went on, her exasperation growing.
“I-I’m not sure if I’m allowed to tell you,” she offered meekly and Graciela checked her annoyance. It wasn’t the girl’s fault she didn’t know everything. Graciela had once been a young intern, too.
“It’s fine. Just put a message through that I’ll be in my office all day.”
“I will, ma’am. Thank you.”
Graciela cringed at the word “Ma’am” and turned toward her computer. She did her due diligence on social media and the Cypress Landry fan pages, but they provided little in the way of proving her theory was correct, that Cypress was somehow blacklisted from the industry.
But if that were true, I would have heard rumors about it, tidbits of gossip or something, wouldn’t I?
She barely had time to do another Google search when there was a knock on the door.
Myrna appeared, her eyes wide and apologetic.
“Sorry, Graciela, but Sam Santos is here to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment.”
Surprise colored her face as she glanced up at the clock. It hadn’t even been half an hour since she’d spoken with his assistant.
Myrna could take some pointers from that woman, Graciela thought appreciatively.
“That’s fine. Send him right in.”
A moment later, Graciela was staring at a slight, small man with intense black eyes and a dashing smile.
