by M. S. Parker
How could I say no to that? “All right,” I agreed. “One hour, and if it’s a dud, I’m leaving.”
“Agreed,” DeVon said.
I waited for the guys to cash in their chips and then we headed outside to get a cab. To my surprise, I ended up in the middle between Landon and DeVon. I gave Landon a dirty look as he shifted in his seat, forcing me closer to DeVon. His expression was innocent, but he was an actor. I knew what he was doing and it wasn’t going to work. No matter how great DeVon smelled and how my skin was heating up just from being this close to him.
The moment I saw the line outside The Ion, I knew DeVon had gotten good information. I’d never seen this many people waiting outside Club Privé, even on its busiest night back in New York, and it was one of the most popular clubs in its market. Inside, The Ion was even better and I knew whatever DeVon had done to get us in had been worth it. The place was packed, but not so much that it was suffocating, and the music was perfect. We snagged a private table, but before I could sit down, Landon grabbed my hand and dragged me out to the dance floor.
People say that a good judge of how a person was in bed was to see them dancing. I’d always found that to be a valid comparison, and that meant Landon had to be an amazing lay. Too bad he didn’t play for my team, because the way I was feeling, I’d have been all over him. I pushed aside the part of my brain that wanted to argue with that statement and say that I was too hung up on DeVon to want to sleep with someone else.
I closed my eyes and focused on the music, letting it fill my body. When I opened my eyes again, Landon was watching me with an appreciative look. Behind him, I saw that he wasn’t the only one whose eyes were on me. At least half of the other men behind him were staring at me. I smiled and moved closer to Landon, pressing my body against his. He laughed and moved with me. It was nice, being able to dance sexily with a guy and not have to worry about him getting the wrong idea.
We stayed out for the next three songs, not talking, not thinking, just dancing. It felt good to move without thought or consideration, no pre-planning, no worrying about how each step would effect whatever came next. A few times as we turned, I saw DeVon watching us, but I didn’t look long. I didn’t want to know what I would see on his face if I lingered.
Finally, Landon took my hand and we headed back towards our table, out of breath and laughing. When we got there, we found that DeVon had ordered a magnum bottle of champagne. Without a word, he poured us each a glass.
“What are the chances of me getting you out on the dance floor?” Landon asked after downing half of his glass.
DeVon grinned. “Not even for you on our anniversary, Sweetie.”
Landon laughed. “Seriously, though, at all the events I’ve seen you at over the years, I’ve never once seen you dance. How come?”
“I don’t dance.” He said it simply and without any defensiveness.
“Why not?” Landon pressed.
DeVon seemed to be intently studying the glass as he answered. “Never found the right partner, I guess.”
I saw Landon shoot me a glance and I gulped the rest of my champagne.
“Maybe you just haven’t met the right man yet.” Landon lightened the mood.
Landon and DeVon kept up the teasing banter through the next couple songs, but when a slow one I loved began to play, I knew I couldn’t just sit here. I could hold my liquor, but the couple glasses of champagne I’d drunk had given me a pleasant buzz, enough to quiet my doubts about whether or not this was a good idea.
I stood up, reached over and grabbed DeVon’s tie. I had a moment to see surprise flash across his face before I was turning away and walking towards the dance floor, pulling him after me, his tie over my shoulder. He could’ve pulled away at any time, but he didn’t. He also didn’t protest as I stopped partway into the crowd and turned to face him.
His hands went to my waist, hovering at that respectful place between too high and too low. I slid my arms around his neck and we began to sway to the music. I was surprised at how easily we moved together, as if all of the animosity between us melted away the moment we began to dance. Even if my brain didn’t want to remember how he’d felt moving against me, with me, my body remembered and it wanted me to close the distance between us. I refused. I needed those few inches if I was going to maintain my self-control and self-respect.
For several minutes, neither one of us spoke, but as the song neared its end, DeVon broke the silence with the last thing I ever thought he’d say.
“I’m sorry for how I acted about Carter. You have every right to be pissed at me.” His dark eyes were sincere. “Can you forgive me?”
I was torn. On one hand, I wanted to tell him to go to hell. On the other, I wanted to throw my arms around him and kiss him. I settled for halfway between.
“Maybe.”
Before I got to see more than a flash of relief cross DeVon’s face, Landon was tapping me on the shoulder.
“May I cut it?”
I gave him an impish grin and stepped aside, using my body to turn DeVon towards him. “Of course.”
Landon held out his hand to DeVon and gave a bow with flourish. The three of us laughed and Landon linked arms with both me and DeVon, putting himself between the two of us. He stayed between us at the table, correctly reading my mind that I wasn’t entirely sure if I wanted to be next to DeVon. With Landon as our buffer, we were able to laugh and joke without too much tension between us. The time passed quickly, and before I knew it, we’d gone through another bottle of champagne and it was only an hour or two before sunrise. We all headed back to the hotel together, Landon in the middle again, though this was more due to the fact that he was a bit wobbly on his feet than his own initiative.
When we arrived on our floor, Landon insisted he could walk on his own, following me to my door as DeVon went to his own.
“Good night,” DeVon said softly. I thought I saw a trace of wistfulness in his eyes as he went into his room, but he was gone too quickly for me to confirm it.
“You know,” Landon said as he leaned on the doorframe. “I think this was the most fun I’ve had in months.”
I smiled up at him and pointed to the door one room over. “You do know that’s your room, right?”
Landon gave me a cocky grin and leaned down, his intent clear. I laughed and turned my face so that his lips brushed my cheek. “Wow, you’re more drunk than I thought.” I took a step back. “You do remember you’re gay, right?”
The pouting face that came next had me laughing even harder. “Dammit, Krissy. Why’d you have to remind me?”
I put my hand on his cheek. “Because when I fuck a guy, I generally like him to be thinking about me and not a sweaty MMA fighter.”
Landon laughed and I knew we’d be okay. I dropped my hand, but didn’t move back when he took a step towards me. The expression on his face was somber, and not at all lustful.
“Stay strong, babe,” he said with all the seriousness a drunk could muster. “You deserve the best straight guy out there and if DeVon can’t see that, then he doesn’t deserve you.”
My chest tightened. “Has … has he said anything about me?” I tried to make the question sound casual, but even tipsy, Landon saw right through it.
“Maybe.” He caged his answer. “And remember that if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here for you.” He walked over to his door and, after two tries, got his keycard to work. He opened the door, but looked over at me before he went inside. “Just be careful, Krissy. I don’t like seeing my friends hurt.”
I was about to ask him which friend he thought was going to get hurt, me or DeVon, but Landon was already inside his room and the door was closed behind him. I waited for a moment to see if he’d come back out, but when he didn’t, I went into my own room, Landon’s warning loud in my head.
Chapter 16
KRISSY
I was at the office no more than twenty minutes before Derrick called.
“What’ve you heard about the merger?”
Well, hello to you, too, I thought. I bit back my snarky thought and gave him a polite greeting he didn’t deserve. “Good morning, Derrick.” I paused for a moment to give him a chance to realize how rude he’d been, but when he didn’t say anything after a few seconds, I continued. “I was gone all weekend–”
“Do you have anything new?” he interrupted.
I scowled. I was getting tired of men in Hollywood treating me like I was less than them. “I was going to call you later today,” I lied smoothly. “I heard it’s going to go through next week, but I don’t have any other details.”
Derrick swore. “That’s right after my pilot screening.”
I didn’t know what that had to do with anything, but I didn’t care, either. I’d had enough of Derrick. I wasn’t sure yet where I was going with these lies, but I knew I just wanted it to end. I didn’t want to deal with him anymore.
“I have to go,” I said. “Lots to do.” I hung up before he could say anything else.
As soon as the phone was back in its cradle, I blew out a breath of air. Men.
I was still trying to figure out what I was going to do when another call came through on my direct line. Two personal calls in just a few minutes. That was weird.
“Hello?”
“Krissy! Sweetheart!”
My stomach dropped even lower and I closed my eyes. If Derrick was the last person I’d wanted to talk to, my mother was pretty high on the list, too. I loved her, I just didn’t like her most of the time.
“I’m coming out to visit in three days.”
I bit my lip to keep from cursing. The kind of family I came from, women didn’t swear. They also didn’t work real jobs and they certainly didn’t fuck. To say I was something of a disappointment to my wealthy, socialite mother was a bit of an understatement.
“I can’t wait to see your new place!”
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell her that I was excited to see her or that I even wanted her to come. Every moment of that visit would be inevitable. The critique of my apartment, my wardrobe, my job. The fact that I wasn’t searching for a ‘suitable’ boyfriend. At my age, I wasn’t quite an old maid, but in the circles my mother moved in, I should’ve at least had a serious boyfriend who would be popping the question any day, and that was even pushing the boundaries of acceptability.
“Oh, Mom, I wish you would’ve called before you made your plans.” I pushed aside the guilt I felt for what I was about to do. “I’m leaving in two days on a business trip and won’t be back until next Wednesday. I won’t even be in LA.”
There was silence for a moment and I fought against the small voice in my head that said I was being cruel. The last thing I needed was my mom questioning every decision I’d made in the recent past, especially not when there were things that I was still questioning myself.
“All right,” she said finally. “Another time, then. Esther is having a silent auction this weekend anyway, and I hated to miss it.”
Now I knew she was trying to make me feel bad. She hated Esther Ryan, and she definitely hated silent auctions, even the ones for charities she liked supporting. She preferred the kind of auction where people got to hear just how generous she was. I did feel a sharper twinge of guilt, but the fact that she was trying to manipulate me gave me the ability to stay strong.
“Call first next time and I’ll make sure my schedule’s clear.” I kept my voice even. “I look forward to showing you around.”
“Of course, dear,” she said. Her tone was tight. “Well, I do have to be going.”
I knew that was her way of letting me know that my behavior had been unacceptable, but I didn’t cave. I’d spent too many years fighting against what my mother thought I should be and how I should behave. I said my good-bye and hung up.
I began to rub small circles on my temples. My head had started to pound. Just one of those phone calls had been enough to give me a headache. Back-to-back, I’d be lucky if I got away without a migraine.
“Are you okay?”
I hadn’t heard Tracy come in, but I didn’t even bother to look up. “I’m fine,” I lied again. The partial truth followed. “It’s just family, you know? My mom wants to come visit and I don’t have the time. You know how demanding this job is. I barely have enough time to go get a drink once in a while. I average sixty hours a week and that doesn’t count the parties and events I end up having to go to.” I looked up now. “Don’t get me wrong. I love it, but I can’t handle my mom on top of that.”
Tracy nodded. “I understand.”
“I’d probably come home after a long day and find that she cleaned and re-arranged my apartment because I hadn’t done it ‘right.’“ I pressed my lips together. I hadn’t meant to say that. I gave the subject a bit of a push in a different direction. “You know, Tracy, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about your family. Do they live around here?”
She gave me one of those smiles that said she wasn’t going to lie, but she wasn’t going to give the whole truth, either. That was fine with me. After all, what was I doing?
“My mother and I haven’t seen each other in two years, so I totally get what you’re saying.”
Somehow, that made me feel a bit better, but it didn’t completely take away the knot in my stomach. After all, my mom wasn’t the only person I had to deal with at the moment.
*****
To my immense relief, the next few days were quiet and uneventful. The only part of that I didn’t like was that I hadn’t seen DeVon since we’d gotten off the plane on Sunday night. I didn’t get any additional calls from Derrick or my mom. There were no crises I had to fix, no problems that needed my immediate attention. I was able to focus solely on my job. Still, when I hadn’t seen DeVon by Thursday morning, I’d been unable to resist trying to find out where he’d been.
“Tracy?” I called her into my office. I fixed my best professional expression on my face. “Do you know where Mr. Ricci has been all week?”
I saw her eyebrow twitch when I called him by his last name. Pretty much all of his employees called him DeVon. I felt a moment of panic that my attempt to make it seem like my inquiry was nothing more than an employee asking after their employer for a work-related reason had made it seem just the opposite.
Tracy’s tone didn’t betray anything of what she was thinking. “He’s been on set in Toronto for a couple of days and just got back in last night. Apparently, there was some issue between one of our actors and the movie’s director. He flew out first thing Monday morning to fix it.”
I nodded. “Thank you,” I said. “That’s good to know.” I picked up my phone as much for something to do as any real need to use it. Tracy headed back to her desk without asking any questions.
Since I already had the phone, I decided to check my calls. Most of the time, if I missed one that had come through Tracy, she would give me the message, but some people preferred to leave a voicemail themselves. The first one was from some actor who was friends with Cami. He wanted me to consider representing him. I made a note of it and then moved on to the next one.
“Ms. Jensen, this is Dale Laramie.”
The man’s voice sounded vaguely familiar, though I couldn’t quite place it.
“We met at the Steven Morrison premiere.”
Right. Now I knew who he was: one of the many reporters who’d been on the red carpet, though not one of the ones on the outside shouting questions and snapping pictures. He’d actually had press credentials that allowed him access to the stars. Well, the stars and people like DeVon and me. I’d never been a big fan of reporters, but in this business, I knew I needed to play nice. People like Dale could be a huge help for people like me, or they could make my life a living hell. I kept listening to the message.
“I just wanted to touch base and ask you if you thought the firing of Derrick Johnson from Dreamtime yesterday would affect your client’s role in their new show. Please call me back when convenient.”
My jaw dr
opped and I was thankful I hadn’t gotten this question face-to-face. What the hell had happened? I put down the phone, grateful that I hadn’t been here to take the call. I could’ve answered honestly that I hadn’t known Derrick had been fired, but I wasn’t sure I could keep a reporter from figuring out that I knew more than I was saying.
My intercom buzzed, breaking into my thoughts, and Tracy’s voice came over the system. “DeVon wants to see you in his office.”
Chapter 17
DEVON
I’d been staring out the window for the past fifteen minutes but I couldn’t have said if the sky was cloudy or sunny, though in LA, sunshine was probably a good bet. I’d been doing this a lot in the past week. Ever since Las Vegas, I’d found myself staring off into space, thinking about Krissy. The past few days, I’d been in Toronto baby-sitting one of my prime actresses, and work should’ve kept me focused, but it hadn’t. More than once, I’d been caught not paying attention. I’d been able to blow it off as Mirage being busy, but it hadn’t been work a single time. It was all Krissy.
