by Stacy-Deanne
“Jesus is gossip all you assistants do because you sure as hell don’t work.”
“Anyway.” Ashleigh rolled her eyes. “Hugh still doesn’t have a lead actress for Fatal Honor.”
“So?”
“If you ask me it’s a great opportunity for someone whose career is floundering.” Ashleigh winced. “I mean, who might need to get things back on track.”
“Are you suggesting I try out for Hugh’s film?”
“Why not?”
“I got a few reasons.” Gabrielle moved her mouth back and forth. “I’ve never acted a day in my life, and I hate Hugh’s guts. I’m trying to keep Hugh away from me not get closer to him.”
“All I’m saying is you gotta look at the big opportunity here. It could be fate that brought you and Hugh together last night.”
“God, you’re talking like him.”
“Fatal Honor is produced by the biggest action producer, Ian Delfino, directed by one of the most successful directors in the world, Hugh, and is starring the hottest actor on the planet, Dash “Too Fine” Phillips.” She hit her laptop. “How many bricks have to fall on your head for you to get
the picture? This is the biggest opportunity for you since Futero offered a contract.”
“Hugh wants me in his bed, Ashleigh. Not his movie.”
“That’s why he’d want you in his movie.” She laughed. “Try out for the part, but something’s telling me you won’t even have to try out.”
“No.” Gabrielle walked from the two seater. “I’ve worked my ass off so people could take me seriously. You know how many men tried to use their power to get me into bed? If I can’t get something because of my mind or talent then I don’t want it at all. I won’t be Hugh’s whore just because things aren’t going right.”
“Course, I didn’t mean be his whore. I admire your principles Gabby, but you need something happening.”
“Something might be happening.” She held back a smile.
“You got news?”
“Lessie told me that a representative from Iris International wants to meet with us.” Gabrielle grabbed the corner pillow from the two seater and held it. “Sounds like they might wanna make an offer for me to be their spokesmodel.”
“Ah!” Ashleigh kicked, knocking over her laptop. “Gabby, that’s great. I’m happy for you.”
“It’s not a deal yet but from what they tell Lessie it’s possible.” She sat on the two seater, giddy. “What do you think?”
“It’s wonderful. You’re too great not to get offers.”
“Iris International isn’t half as big as Futero’s brand, but I’m flattered they’re interested in some old, has been like me.”
“Stop it. Iris should be lucky you’d meet with them. Sure, they aren’t a huge brand now, but they’ve only been around five years. If you get on board, they’ll be bigger than Maybelline in about six months.”
“Thanks.” Gabrielle chuckled, sticking her chin out. “See? I don’t need Hugh and his little movie.”
Ashleigh sipped cappuccino. “You go, girl.”
Gabrielle’s cell buzzed on the coffee table. “It better not be Hugh.” She snatched the phone. “Gotta remember to change my number.” She checked the caller. “It’s Warner.” She answered, “Warner—”
“Hey, Beautiful. How’s your day going?”
“Like hell.” She stood. “You owe me, Warner.”
“Wait, what did I do?”
“You made me go out with Hugh and now my apartment is full of every flower in California.”
He chuckled. “What are you talking about?”
“I don’t care how you do it or what you do but you get Hugh Macintosh off my ass or our friendship is over.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“You made this mess, Warner.” She trekked to the kitchen in tube socks. “You clean it up.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Say what?” Jamal Brown, Hugh’s assistant director, yanked the pencil out of his bushy afro. “You want Gabrielle Montane to star in your film?”
“Did I stutter?” Hugh sat behind his desk at his own Brannix Studios, eating a Red Delicious apple. “It’s my movie, right? I want Gabrielle Montane as the lead actress.”
“Hold up, son.” Jamal parked his massive, deep-chocolate body on Hugh’s desk. “This is Ian Delfino’s film, remember?”
“I’m the director. Without my vision Ian has nothing.”
“It’s Ian’s money though.” Jamal’s top lip rose, displaying his black gums. “As usual, you’re not thinking with your big head but your little one. Now I admit, Gabrielle Montane is finer than shit. But, you can’t use this film to get close to some model.”
“How long have we worked together, J?”
He tapped the pencil in his wide palm. “Ten years.”
“You’re my number one man.” Hugh gripped Jamal’s shoulder. “You’re my assistant director, and I cherish your opinion.”
“But?”
“You know me better than anyone.” Hugh propped his feet on the desk and took another chomp of the juicy apple. “I always do what I want.”
“And, get what you want?” Jamal got off the desk with his head low. “It’s sleazy, man. You’re not offering her a role based on her ability but to get her in bed and I’m not down with that.”
Hugh glared at him. “Am I the only director to offer a woman a role because he was interested in her? What difference does it make?”
“This is different.” Jamal’s cellphone rang, but he ignored it. “You’re usually so serious with work, but you’re treating this like a game. The woman hasn’t ever acted in her life. You gonna trust her in a big movie like this one?”
“Everyone and their momma is acting these days. Reality stars, rappers, singers, and most of them suck. We’ll get her a coach, and she’ll be fine. Besides, with a woman as beautiful as Gabrielle people won’t give a shit about her acting.” He laughed. “She and Dash Phillips will make this a hit with their fame alone.”
“What about the big cheese?” Jamal stood wide-legged, glaring at Hugh. “Ian will never go for this. He’s putting a lot of money in this film. Come on, man.” He leaned on the desk. “Let’s get a real actress and do the best for the film we can.”
“Get a real actress?” Sierra stood in the doorway with her hair in a double ponytail.
Shit.
She twisted inside on white stiletto sandals.
“Babe.” Hugh leapt out the chair and threw the apple in the wastebasket by his desk. “What are you doing here?”
“Do I need an excuse to come see my man?” The red, off-the-shoulder summer dress glided off her small hips. “Hey, Jamal.”
“Sierra.” He smiled.
She sat on Hugh’s desk and crossed her legs. “Something wrong?”
“No.” Hugh’s voice cracked. “What would be wrong?”
“You act like something’s up.” She gripped a button on his black shirt. “What were you saying about an actress?”
“Nothing, hon.” He kissed her cheek, rubbing her back. “You smell good.”
She displayed a constricted smile. “What’s going on?”
“Might as well tell her, Hugh.”
Hugh sat, huffing. “I don’t wanna bother her with this.”
“What?” she asked. “Is something wrong concerning the film?” She looked back and forth at them.
“We don’t have an actress for Fatal Honor,” Jamal said.
Hugh’s jaws filled with air.
“What?” Sierra’s eyes widened. “What happened to Olympia Wood?”
“She pulled out.” Hugh rocked. “Conflicting obligations.”
“I thought she’d signed the contract.”
Hugh shook his head. “We hadn’t gotten that far yet.”
“My god.” Sierra covered her mouth, a smile peeking underneath her hand. “You have anyone else?”
“We’re in talks to try out people but the part was written with Olympi
a in mind,” Hugh said. “With her and Dash Phillips, no telling what this movie would’ve done.”
“It’ll still be a huge hit,” Sierra said. “Why didn’t you tell me this? You’re taking auditions?”
Hugh nodded.
“Where do I sign up?” Sierra clasped her hands, beaming.
“Uh...” Hugh glanced at Jamal who shook his head behind Sierra’s back. “You want to audition?”
“I know it’s a step down for me.” She smiled. “But, I realize if I want my career back on track I need to start over from scratch so I’m ready.”
“Sierra.” Hugh exhaled into his hand. “You can’t try out for the movie.”
She held her purse by the strap. “Why not?”
“It wouldn’t be right for you.”
“You need an actress, right? I’m an actress, Hugh. I’m a damn good actress.”
“You’re talented, but this part’s not for you.”
“I see.” She blushed.
“Honey, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“How do you expect me to feel? My boyfriend doesn’t want me in his film.”
“Sierra.” He held her. “It’s not like that.”
“Bullshit.” She blubbered in her hands. “No one wants me anymore.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is.” She pushed him. “I used to have producers and directors falling out my ass. People used to pay money just to score meetings with me. Now I can’t take out anyone’s trash. How am I going to get my career back if no one gives me a chance?”
“If it were up to me, I’d let you read for the part.” He put his hands in his pockets. “But, your dad doesn’t want you anywhere near this film. He told me he’d want anyone but you.”
“Did he?” Tears skated down her face. “I guess that’s it then, huh?”
“Sierra.”
“Good luck finding your actress.” She turned to leave.
“Wait.” Hugh grabbed her arm. “You gonna be okay?”
“Hey, people treat you like a disease long enough you get used to it.” She walked to the door. “See you.”
“Sierra?”
She walked out, dress hugging her backside.
“Shit.” Hugh closed the door. “Thanks, J.”
“She was going to find out sooner or later.”
“I didn’t want her to find out like that.” Hugh sat behind his desk. “Just one more thing for me to deal with.”
“You think she’s upset now?” Jamal pointed to the door. “Wait if Gabrielle winds up being in the movie.”
Hugh pushed his hands in his palms. “Fuck.”
CHAPTER NINE
Someone knocked on Hugh’s office door.
“Come in,” Hugh said.
Warner walked in, checking out Hugh and Jamal. “Hey.”
“Warner.” Hugh smiled. “What can I do for you, buddy? You remember Jamal?”
“Course I remember Jamal.” Warner took Jamal’s hand into a hearty shake. “Nice to see you again.”
“You too.”
“I need to talk to you, Hugh,” Warner pulled up his pants. “It’s about Gabrielle.”
“Mm.” He licked his lips. “That’s a subject I’m always interested in. Will you excuse us, J?”
He left.
Hugh reclined in his chair with his hands behind his head. “What’s up?”
“I saw Sierra crying in the parking lot just now. Is everything okay?”
“It’s nothing. What’s this about Gabrielle?”
“Leave her alone.” The muscles in Warner’s face constricted. “We clear?”
Hugh yanked his feet off the desk and sat erect. “Say what now?”
“Gabrielle’s my friend, and I told you last night I’m not letting you hurt her.”
“Since when is Gabrielle’s love life your business?”
“It sure as hell isn’t yours.”
“We’ve known each other a long time.” Hugh rose from the desk. “I’d expect you to be straight with me. Is there something going on here?”
The veins in Warner’s neck throbbed. “Like what?”
“You tell me.”
“I swore I’d always be there for her, and I meant it.” He stepped back. “Don’t make me prove it.”
Hugh leaned back with his hands in his pockets. “Correct me if I’m wrong but I thought you were my friend too.”
“You got a woman,” Warner muttered. “Gabrielle doesn’t belong to you.”
“Yet.” Hugh walked from behind the desk. “She will.”
“Not as long as I’m around.”
“I knew it.” Hugh pressed his lips together. “You want her for yourself.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not stupid.” Hugh charged him. “Course you want her. What man wouldn’t? But, at least you can be honest and save me this bullshit about you looking out for a friend when you want to get Gabrielle into bed as much as I do.”
“You’re wrong.” Warner swung toward him. “Unlike you I see Gabrielle as more than some sex object or a victim to add to my list.”
“I care about her too.” Hugh pounded his chest. “You were right last night. I am in love with her.”
“If that’s true then you’d respect her wishes and leave her alone.”
“I can’t do that.” Hugh shook off the suggestion. “I don’t control this attraction. It’s bigger than Gabrielle and I.”
“Enough, Hugh.” Warner balled fists. “It stops today. Don’t call her. Don’t send her any more gifts. Don’t go near her. You hear me?”
“If I do then what?”
Warner tensed up as if fighting to regain his composure. “Then not only will we no longer be friends, but I’ll become your biggest nightmare.”
****
“Miss Sierra?” Yuricema’s Cuban accent interrupted the sounds of the calm ocean breeze that caressed Sierra’s eardrums.
With her legs folded under her, she jerked the earphones from her ears and clicked off the iPad. “I’m off limits when I meditate, remember?”
“I’m sorry, Ma’am.” Yuricema took delicate steps onto the backyard patio of Sierra’s European-style mansion. “Forgive me but you have a guest.”
“I’m not expecting anyone.” She checked her watch. “Who shows up unannounced at someone’s home at six in the evening?”
Yuricema’s dark skin always made her hazel eyes pop. “Mr. Phillips.”
“Phillips?” Sierra uncrossed her legs. “Dash Phillips?”
“Yes.” Yuricema giggled. “Every time I see him, he gets more handsome. I was asking him about the new movie. Did you know Mr. Macintosh didn’t have a lead actress yet?”
“Yeah,” Sierra murmured. “Tell Dash he can go jump in the lake.” She got back into meditating position.
“He’s bearing gifts.” Yuricema moved in front of Sierra. “A raspberry white chocolate cheesecake.”
“Don’t just stand there.” Sierra snatched the earphones off again. “Let the man in.”
Yuricema grinned, rushing through the glass double doors.
A second later, Dash stood on the limestone deck with his shades perched on his head and a mischievous smile. “I knew the cheesecake would win you over.”
Sierra’s mouth eased into a cautious smile. “Bring it over here.”
Dash approached the white, tuxedo table and chairs, holding the box as if it were a bomb.
“Set the cheesecake down slowly.” Sierra held out her hands as she moved from the, 15-piece sectional. “And back away from the table.”
Dash smirked, set the box on the table and backed away.
Sierra yanked the lid off the box. “Oh.” She melted at the aroma of cream cheese, raspberry sauce, and chocolate.
“Wait, a minute.” Dash whipped plastic ware from his jean pocket. “Here you go.”
“You’re a god.” She snatched the utensils.
“You want Yuricema to bring a plate?”
“F
uck a plate.” Sierra dug her fork under the sliced cake and lay a piece right on the table.
“Um, that’s kinda gross.”
She plunged the dessert in her mouth, feeling that painful tingle in her jaw from the tartness that turned into heaven. “Am I supposed to believe you just happened to be in Beverly Hills with my favorite cheesecake?” She chomped, not giving a damn how unattractive she might look. “What are you up to, Dash?”
“People always have to have an angle with you, huh?” He walked to the unlit fire table in the center of the deck and glanced into it. “People don’t always have an angle, Sierra.”
“Men do.”
“I get your favorite dessert, and I get an inquisition?”
“What did you expect?” She licked raspberry sauce from her lips.
He leaned beside her, his mouth leveled with hers. “A kiss perhaps.”
“You must’ve hit your head on the way over here.” She chuckled with a mouthful of chocolate and graham cracker crumbs. “This could be made with diamonds and you wouldn’t get a kiss.” She pushed him away.
He held that mysterious, sexy smile. “Someone told me they saw you at the studio balling like someone had killed your favorite pet. Being the sensitive man I am I got you something to cheer you up.”
“Hm.” Sierra pushed crumbs from between her teeth with her tongue. “So this isn’t seduction?”
He rubbed his hands together. “That’s going to be up to you.” He sat in the chair beside her, his gaze sending electric shocks through her body.
She dropped eye contact, his eyes reminding her of the past she longed for, yet fought against for her own good.
He leaned forward, wrapping his long fingers around her trembling thigh.
“Don’t.” She moved her leg. “You don’t have permission to touch me anymore.”
“How do I get permission?” He watched her with a longing, hungry gaze. “Because, I want to so badly. What can I do?”
She moved her fork across the top of the cheesecake slice. “There’s nothing you can do. We can’t go back to before.”
He sat back, shaking his head. “Why were you crying at the studio?”
“The story of my life.” She propped her foot in her chair, looking into the dim sun. “Daddy Dearest hates me as usual.”
