by Dylann Crush
“Not all of them.” She holds up her left hand, her engagement ring to Charles reflecting the reds and greens of the lighting in here.
“Fine. You got the only good one. Spare me from the rest of the lot.”
“Well, there are plenty of other men to choose from.”
My stomach curls at the thought of even touching another member of the opposite sex for a long time. “I think this will be my celibate year.”
Her laugh tinkles into my ear. “Don’t worry, Sophia. You’ll meet him when you’re least expecting it, like I did.”
Lawrence catches my eye as he slinks nearer the punch bowl off to my right. “Ugh. Cameramen are off limits, too.”
Melody’s eyebrows form a frown. “What’s his deal?”
“He’s pissed I got the promotion he feels he was entitled to.”
“Happens. Remember Helene? I’m going to give you the same advice you gave me, missy. Don’t you dare doubt for one second you got the job due to anything other than your mad skills.” She wraps her arm around my shoulders and kisses my cheek.
The words I once spoke to her sound trite, but when I said them to her, they were the truth. Her belief in me revives my own flagging self-confidence. I can do this. After all, I was the one Noble promoted. Hunte changes to another, more recent hit, and I bop out of time next to my rhythmic bestie.
My soaring mood nosedives when a tall dude with muscular shoulders and dark, wavy hair appears next to Lawrence. Could this night get any worse? Why couldn’t he stay in his suite?
“Is that?”
“Yeah, Mark’s here.” And talking with the unhappy 1st AC. “So now it’s a party.” I hang my head.
Melody shakes my shoulders. “Don’t you slink away! You have every right to be here. Hell, it’s your birthday, too. My dad even sang you a song.”
I tip my lips at her attempt to make me feel better, but my body is in full revolt. No way do I want to stay here. I thought I could handle the aftermath of my disastrous encounter with Mark, but I was wrong. I shake my head. “Listen, Mel, I know you mean well and all, but I can’t stay.”
Before I can move, heated words from the two despised men reach my ears. And those of the people around us. Mark yells, “Anyone want to dispute me?” His fingers beckon to those around him. “I’m here.”
What the hell is going on? I, like everyone around me, turn to watch the spectacle being caused by Lawrence and Mark.
The 1st AC yells, “You’re a real douchebag, you know that? We both know who the better cameraman is.”
I don’t want to hear any more of this drivel. I can’t. Despite being caught up in the crowd surrounding the two jerks, I push through the group. Since they’re more interested in the argument than my escape, I’m able to put a little distance between me and the assholes.
Mark’s voice rings loud and clear. “Only a true low-life wants to kill a movie before it starts. Ever hear of a rising tide lifts all boats? Sophia’s a consummate professional and freaking good at her job.”
I’m rendered still like a pose held in front of a green screen. Was Mark actually defending me? Am I being punked? I look around, but no one jumps out from behind a hidden camera.
And he called me a professional, who is good at my job. Amend—freaking good. He didn’t say I’m a charity case. And, as an actor, he only wants the best to be on the team that lays his character down on film.
Mel reappears at my side. “See. I agree with Mark there. Even he said you got your promotion because you deserved it.” She leans toward me. “You’ve worked hard for years earning it, Sophia.”
For once, her words sink into my soul. Since high school, I’ve focused on honing my craft, taking every class I could afford. I worked my way up through the ranks—albeit at a faster pace than some, but I still paid my dues. I stand taller. And I am freaking good at what I do. Noble never would’ve promoted me if I wasn’t ready.
Plus, I’ve forged a good working relationship with the director of photography—my ultimate dream job—for the upcoming movie. I am good enough. I’ve taken advantage of the opportunities the scholarships provided and expanded my future. On my own two feet.
I do belong. I’ve made it so.
While all this has been going on inside my head, Kane approached the two men and said something I couldn’t hear. Just now, Mark flails and stomps away from Lawrence. Right into me.
We bounce back from the impact and, for the second time tonight, the rest of the people around us disappear. “Sophia,” he breathes.
I blink. He did just stand up for me against my co-worker. But back in his suite, he hinted he wanted me as his “shoot ho.” One part of him deserves praise, while the other needs to be put into its place. Hard. I step back. “Mark.”
Anger rolls off him in waves. He can shove it. I’m about to tell him to do that when Melody intervenes, “That was quite the show back there. Did you mean what you said about my girl?”
I hold my breath, waiting for his response.
He visibly shrinks in front of me.
Guess I have my answer.
5
Mark
My eyes bounce from Chase’s girl to the woman I want to be mine. Who’s standing in front of me like a fierce Amazon, ready to do battle. With me. With the world. And I don’t blame her.
Rigidity flows out of my body. First Sophia ditched me and accepted Kane’s date, then Lawrence put down her skills. While I was able to put the cameraperson in his place, she chose my nemesis over me.
Man up, Ivanoff. Fight for her! Show her what she really means to you. And to the movie industry as a whole. Fuck Lawrence. Double fuck Kane.
I re-starch my backbone. “I do.”
Sophia’s pinky flicks off her thumb over and over, in her non-rhythmic way. Unsure what that means, I zero in on her. “I’ve seen your camerawork. It’s fantastic. That, in combination with what you did on the last movie set prove the promotion was yours long before Noble announced it. Anyone with eyes can see that.” At that moment, Lawrence huffs away from Kane, toward the opposite side of the room. “Except for those with small ability and a big sense of entitlement.”
Sophia swallows.
Melody agrees. “At least you appreciate her talent.” She crosses her arms.
What did Sophia tell her about what went on in my suite? I extend my hands toward the woman occupying a large part of my mind, but she backs away. “You’re different.”
Sophia imitates her friend by crossing her arms, adding a head tilt. She drawls, “Really?”
I tug my ear. Yes, she’s a whiz with the camera. But she’s so much more. And I want her to be more with me. No one else. “You see everybody as equals, always smiling and upbeat. You bring out the best in people. In me. You make me want to do better. To be worthy of your”—I search for the word—“esteem.”
The flicking of her fingers continues. “Glad to help your craft.” She turns on her heel.
“No, wait!” My hand lands on her shoulder, which tenses under my grip. “Sophia, you mean more to me than my work as an actor. With you, everything’s different. In a good way. You make me want to do better. To be a better person. I want—no, need you in my life.”
Melody’s face goes from disbelief to understanding in a flash, and she disappears into the crowd. For her part, Sophia extricates her shoulder and turns to face me. “You’re rich.”
I cock my head. “You’re not a pauper either.” She can’t be, not with her promotion in the movie. Still, she blanches.
In a low voice, she replies, “I used to be.”
“And I used to be a fat, acne-covered teen who didn’t know English.”
Her brown eyes study me. “But you’ve changed.”
“And so have you.” I take a tentative step toward her. No matter that I want to close the gap, this moment feels too important to rush. “Despite where you started, you’re coming into your own. After this trilogy with Noble, my bet is you’ll advance to becoming a director of
photography. You have so much ahead of you, exactly because of where you’ve come from. All your experiences have made you who you are.”
My words must’ve struck a chord, because her face transforms with the first genuine smile I’ve seen from her since we entered my hotel suite. Still, her voice is shaky. “I made it happen.”
“You did.” Wanting to lighten the mood, I add, “And you put me in my place, to boot.”
Her hand covers her face, but the shaking of her shoulders betray her. She’s laughing. “I didn’t want to be treated like your shoot ho.”
I rear back. “My what?”
She drops her hand. “You always choose one woman per set to wine and dine. Then, you drop her as soon as the shoot’s over. We never really hooked up during Doctor Manipul8, so I figure I was sort of your unfinished business.”
Wow. Her description isn’t wrong at all, but hearing her say it like that does make me seem to be a shallow ass. For some reason, I don’t want to be that ass any longer. Not with her. “Maybe I’ve changed. Maybe you’ve changed me.”
Her eyes widen in disbelief. “My mama told me leopards don’t change their spots.”
“Maybe the big cats don’t, but I’m ready to try. With you.”
She sucks in her breath. “Do you mean that?”
“I do.” A calmness descends on me, assuring me this is the right decision. I clarify, “With you. Only you.” I hold my breath, waiting for her response.
“Mark, you’ve overcome so much to reach the top of your profession.”
I shake my head. “Not there yet, boss. No awards here.”
“Me neither. Yet.” Her face shows her determination to get them. “We’ve both come so far, though. By working hard.”
“Yes. Due to our own grit.”
Her eyes open like saucers. “We’re the same.”
One last part of the evening lingers. “Different from Kane.”
“Him.” Sophia rolls her eyes.
A grin tugs at my lips as I realize I was wrong. She turned him down. With ice cold fingers, I grab her hand and direct it to my chest. “I think we can go far.” I suck in my breath.
Her reciprocating smile jumpstarts my shut down heart. “I like the sound of that.” She pauses. “Yes, we are similar. Although one of us has excess bumps.”
I close the gap between us, keeping her hand on my chest. My heartrate picks up, pumping faster than the tempo of Hunte’s song. “Bet I can put my bumps to good use.”
Don’t roll your hips.
Dude, don’t roll your hips.
My hips roll.
Shit.
Instead of running away, Sophia slides both arms up mine, ending with her hands behind my neck. Never one to miss out on a promised hug, I encircle her waist and pull gently. We’re now touching from head to toe. And I like it.
Focusing on her ear, I bite down on her lobe. She shivers, and my body short-circuits. Like she did before, she entangles her fingers in the hair at the nape of my neck. “I think you can, too.”
“Just think, huh?”
Her head bumps against my cheek. “Are you for real now? Or was the man back in your suite your true self?”
It’s as if she punched me in the gut. “Guess I deserved that.” Hunte starts playing “Love Rules,” and I maneuver us onto the dance floor.
Her question lingers between us while my whole universe rearranges itself. Expressive chocolate brown eyes lay bare my meaningless string of hookups. Her belief in me and my talents explodes inside my chest, making me want to worship at her feet. I need to make this special woman understand what she’s done to me. “I don’t want to be that guy anymore.”
“Then don’t.”
Her hips sway out of time with the music, and I let her have her space. Uniquely her. After all, it’s what caught my eye during our last movie shoot. And what’s captured my heart now.
I should be petrified, but I’m not. This woman in my arms feels like happiness. She accepts me for who I used to be and what I want to achieve. She doesn’t push me for more than I’m willing to give, although she also doesn’t take my shit. I need her in my life. And, for the first time ever, I’m ready to make whatever changes necessary to keep her in it. Forever.
I break apart and tilt my head downward. “Not anymore, I promise. So long as you say you’ll be mine.”
Her mouth falls open for a second. “For the trilogy?”
“No, Sophia. I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I want someone stable—you—in my life for longer than it takes to lay down a film.”
She outlines my lips with her finger. “How much longer?”
“A long, long time.” I kiss her fingertip. Those little words would’ve struck fear in my entire being just hours ago. But now, with Sophia in my arms, they’re right.
“I think I can manage that time frame.” She rests her head between my neck and my shoulder.
Hunte sings of how love changes lives, and I breathe in the lyrics. Sophia has taken control of my heart and made me see everything in a different light. I want to be a better man, for her.
Of course, I want to return to my suite and finish what we started before as well. But that can wait. Right now, I need to give her the birthday of her dreams. And score the present of my lifetime.
“Happy birthday, boss.”
“Happy birthday, old man.”
Life with Sophia will never be dull, that’s for sure. She has a much different perspective than I do, which is good. I’m so ready to explore what the world has in store for us. Together.
The song ends and we break apart. “Care for some eggnog?”
“Only if it comes with a kiss.”
That I can do. In front of everyone—people working with us on the upcoming movie, her best friend, plus my archenemy and hers, I raise my hands to her cheeks and give her the only possible answer.
“With pleasure.”
Also By Arell Rivers
The Hunte Family Series ~ enemies-to-lovers romances about rock star Braxton Hunte and his kids
Out of the Red
Out of the Shadow
OUT OF THE GOLD: Imagine Being Braxton Hunte’s Daughter (releases September 17, 2020)
OUT OF THE BLUE (releases next!)
The Hold Series ~ second chance rock star romances
Hold On
No One to Hold
Hard to Hold
To Have and to Hold
Take Hold of Me
Hold Still
Hold Me ~ Box Set (Winter 2020)
Go to www.ArellRivers.com for information about all of Arell’s books.
About Arell Rivers
For as long as Arell Rivers can remember, she has been lost in a book. During her senior year in college, she picked up a romance novel . . . and instantly was hooked!
Arell started writing her first novel because the characters were screaming at her to do so. The story started coming out in her dreams and attacking her in the shower, so she took to the computer to shut them up. But they kept talking.
Born and raised in New Jersey, Arell has what some may call a “checkered past.” Prior to discovering her passion for writing romance, she practiced law, was a wedding and event planner and even dabbled in marketing. She lives with two adorable cats and a very supportive husband who doesn’t care that the bed isn’t made or dinner isn’t on the table. When not in her writing cave, Arell can be found making dinner in the slow cooker, working out with Shaun T, or hitting the beach.
Arell hopes you enjoy her stories about driven men, strong women and the passions that ignite!
Please subscribe to Arell’s e-newsletter: https://geni.us/HunteSubscribe
Come on in to Arell’s Angels, her Facebook group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/arellsangels
Part XVIII
Mistletoe Hearts
Brenda St John Brown
About… Mistletoe Hearts
Lucy Maclaren came to the Jingle Ball to talk up the Blue Dog. A li
ttle networking - and reminders about Christmas bookings - can only help her struggling village pub. She didn’t count on crashing into the (very sexy) man who’s about to turn her life into a TV blooper reel. And she sure as hell didn’t plan on snogging him.
1
Lucy
Lucy’s thumbs flew across the screen of her phone as she typed: If anyone asks how I twisted my ankle, I’m going to tell them I slipped on the wet floor in the loo having a quickie with Theo James. But don’t worry. It was so good I didn’t notice the pain until afterwards.
Lucy grinned at the text to her best friend Kimmy, who sent her back a crying laughing emoji followed by: Jingling a few balls in the toilet at the Jingle Ball, are you? Get it?
Lucy made a face at her phone: Oh, I get it. No comment, except I swear, this night is tragic enough already, and my ankle is the proverbial icing on the cake.
Kimmy: What’s tragic is that you didn’t shag Theo James. Did you really twist your ankle?
Sadly, yes. Lucy slipped on the wet floor of the toilet trying to yank the door open and now she was limping worse than a three-legged dog. Her dog, Blue, had three legs, so she knew what she was talking about. Blue limped along, but she also chased after pheasants like it was a competition, so...
Lucy wasn’t even sure she’d be able to hobble back to the bar for a much-needed gin and tonic.
Kimmy would tell her she was moaning if she said that, so Lucy just typed: I did, but it’s not that swollen, so I’m sure it will be fine. I should be skulking out the back door as we speak but I’m giving it a minute.
Kimmy: Skulking is not ball behavior, FYI. Where are you now?
Lucy: Awaiting Stefan Cane. He’s gone to fetch me something for my ankle because that’s the kind guy he is.
