For the Love of You

by Donna Hill

  More than once he’d questioned the feasibility of casting Milan. But artistry won out over his personal hesitation. However, he had no qualms about replacing her if things turned a wrong corner. Anthony had suggested several other actresses that could step into the role. They didn’t have the name and face recognition that Milan had, and he was banking on those things to create hype for the film. With Milan and Hamilton in the lead roles, the film was guaranteed to garner the attention and box office success he knew it deserved. But he wasn’t above casting an up-and-coming actress and making a star if Milan made life difficult.

  He emptied his pockets on the top of the dresser then decided to send Jewel a text message before getting in the shower. He pulled up her number from his contacts.

  I heard that things went well today. Great shots. We can talk about next steps later tonight. Looking forward to seeing you. C.

  He hit send. Within moments the phone chirped with her response.

  Looking forward to seeing you, too.

  Craig grinned, pulled off his clothes and headed into the shower.

  Chapter 8

  Jewel changed her outfit three times, and she was still unsatisfied. Where were they going, exactly? She should have asked him, she worried while she took off the third dress and tossed it on the bed with the other two. He would be there in a half hour and she was still running around in her underwear. Panic set in. The room suddenly grew hot. She darted across the carpeted floor and adjusted the temp on the air conditioner. She then went to stare at the garments hanging in her closet. Again.

  She couldn’t recall the last time she’d gone out on a dinner date. How sad was that? After several more moments of indecision, she finally settled on a simple black dress, sleeveless, in a fabric that hinted at curves rather than defined them, with a hem that came just to her knees. Silver studs in her ears and a chunky silver-and-black rope chain for her neck.

  Jewel took a step back and examined her full length in the mirror, turning right and left and of course trying to get an over-the-shoulder view. Pleased she fluffed her curls, added one more swipe of her bronzy lip gloss and a fingertip dab of her favorite body oil behind her ears and inside her wrists.

  She studied her reflection. What would Craig think? Funny that it should matter. For the past few years two of the last things she thought much about were her appearance and her artistic penchant for needing approval, which had contributed to her downfall. The resurfacing of those emotions left her shaky inside, vulnerable—a place that she didn’t want to ever return.

  She gave a shake of her head as if to toss off the swirling thoughts and then reminded herself that it was one day, one night at a time. She truly had nothing to prove, and Craig Lawson could take her or leave her. Her gaze explored her reflection, settled on her expression, then the body encased in that dress. She smiled. Who was she kidding? For the time being, she preferred if he took her.

  * * *

  Craig pulled into the Fontaines’ winding driveway at exactly five minutes to seven. He would have been there earlier but he didn’t want to appear as eager as he felt. He put the car in Park, peeked up at the house through the driver’s side window then got out while he slid one hand into his pants pocket and strode forward. He hesitated for a moment before ringing the bell and wondered for the thousandth time why he was overthinking a simple dinner.

  In concert with the bell echoing in the house, the door opened. His stomach coiled, and his heart beat just a bit faster. Damn. His eyes ran over her from top to bottom, taking in every delicious inch.

  “Hey. Hope I’m not early.”

  “No. Right on time. Come in for a minute.” Jewel stepped aside to let him pass.

  He stealthily inhaled the soft scent of her and relished that she smelled that good all over.

  “So, where did you decide for dinner?” she asked and turned toward him.

  “You look incredible,” he said with hunger in his voice. He stepped up to her, slid an arm around her waist and dipped his head until his mouth met hers. Jewel sighed softly. “I’ve been waiting for that all day,” he said against her lips.

  “Worth it?”

  “Absolutely.” His gaze rose and landed on Minerva, who was standing at the top of the stairs.

  Jewel followed his line of sight. Her face heated. She stood a step back. “Everything okay?”

  “Yes, fine,” she said and descended the stairs. “Good evening, Mr. Lawson.”

  “Good evening.”

  “I was coming down to fix a snack,” she said to Jewel. She gave her a quick once-over. “You two have a nice time.” She walked away and into the kitchen.

  Jewel wished the floor would open. She slowly shook her head.

  Craig turned to Jewel with a twinkle in his eye. “Ready?”

  “Very.” She picked up her silver-toned shawl and her purse from the table in the foyer and led the way out.

  * * *

  “I don’t think I realized that your housekeeper lived in,” Craig said as they pulled out of the driveway and onto the street.

  “For about two years now.”

  Craig took a quick look at her profile that was set and fixed on the road ahead. He got the impression that she didn’t want to talk about it. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to know what caused that look on her face.

  “What happened two years ago?”

  Jewel’s expression tightened. She tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth. “I’d really rather not. It’s a long story and not very pleasant.”

  “I’m a storyteller. I examine life for a living. There isn’t much that you could tell me that would surprise or repulse me,” he added with a smile.

  “I needed help with my dad,” she said and offered nothing further.

  When silence hung between them for a beat too long he said, “I get it. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

  Her expression visibly relaxed. “Thank you. But what we can talk about is your film.”

  He tugged in a breath and resigned himself to the idea that Jewel wasn’t going to spill her guts—at least not yet—and for that matter neither was he. But what she didn’t say was almost as important as what she did say. Clearly, there were problems with her father. Serious enough that she needed help to take care of him, which might explain a lot of things.

  “Right now we’re doing the table reads with the actors. The technical folks are working out logistics and scheduling, costumes and permits. This is all the behind-the-scenes stuff before the next phase kicks in.”

  “Which is?”

  “First day of shooting.”

  She nodded slowly. “How much of the film will take place on the property?”

  “On film it will seem like mostly all of it. But the way we have it worked out in terms of shot selection and scheduling, we should be finished shooting on your property in about a week, week and a half, tops. Unfortunately, in order to do that we start early and leave late.”

  “I see. What about what’s not shot on the property?”

  “There are street scenes and some historic sites, both of which require permits, and the rest we can finish up on the lot in LA, if necessary. I’m hoping that we can do everything here. Cuts down on time and wear and tear on the actors and won’t incur extra expenses for the budget.”

  Craig slowed the car, peered up at the sign on the corner indicating Tchoupitoulas Street then turned. “That’s the place up there,” he said with a lift of his chin.

  “Emeril’s?” she asked, clearly delighted. The lighted logo of the world-famous restaurant promised mouthwatering delights.

  He glanced at her with a self-satisfied smile. “Hope you like it.”

  Jewel laughed. “What is there not to like? In all the years that I’ve lived in Louisiana, I may have be
en here once—and that was ages ago. All I can remember was that the food was to die for. Since then he’s opened other locations, had his own television show...”

  “I have another surprise for you.”

  She snapped her head in his direction. “What?”

  Craig winked. “You’ll see.”

  He parked the car in the lot behind the restaurant, and they walked around to the front. The hostess greeted them.

  “Mr. Lawson, welcome to Emeril’s. Your table is ready. Please follow me.”

  Craig placed his hand at the low dip of Jewel’s back and guided her across the restaurant to their reserved table. He helped Jewel into her seat.

  “Chef Lagasse will be right out.” The hostess smiled and walked away.

  Jewel leaned across the table. “Wait, what did she just say?”

  Craig leaned forward as well. The light of mischief sparkled in his eyes. “She said Chef Lagasse will be right out,” he responded and tried to maintain a level of utter seriousness.

  “Very funny,” she tossed back. “You know him?”

  “A little,” he hedged, enjoying the delight that he saw on her face. He would do anything to see that kind of happiness radiate from her, and to know that he was a part of it made the watching that much sweeter.

  “Fine. Play coy. It doesn’t become you.” She lifted her chin in a semblance of huff.

  Craig chuckled. “How ’bout I tell you the whole story over breakfast?”

  Her eyes widened. Her lips parted ever so slightly. “Very presumptuous.”

  “I’m a risk taker, in every aspect of my life.” His gaze held hers steadily.

  “Do you consider this—you and me—a risk?” she asked in a near whisper.

  “Definitely. But it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

  Rather than respond she lifted her glass of water and took a sip, as much to have something to do as to extinguish the fire in her belly.

  * * *

  Dinner wasn’t simply dinner—it was an event, from meeting Chef Lagasse himself with his larger-than-life personality to being taken into the kitchen to watch the preparation of their meal to the food itself, which defied explanation.

  When they left the restaurant three hours later, they were still laughing and attempting to one-up each other with the numerous delights of the evening.

  “So you met him through your cousin Rafe?” Jewel said while she strapped herself in.

  “Yep. Actually, Emeril’s head chef is a good friend of Rafe’s. He made the original introductions, and the rest, as they say, is history.” He put the car in gear. “So...breakfast?” He snatched a look at her.

  Jewel turned to him and smiled. “I like my eggs scrambled.”

  “I’ll see what I can do about that.”

  Chapter 9

  They pulled up in front of the hotel, and the valet hurried over to take the car.

  “Nightcap? I’m sure the hotel bar is still open, or I can have them send something up,” Craig said while he helped Jewel from the car.

  Now that she was here, the reality that she would spend the night with him in his hotel room hit home. “A nightcap sounds good...and your room is fine.”

  He led her inside and across the wide reception area to the bank of elevators. He took out his card key from his inside jacket pocket.

  The doors swished open and they stepped into his penthouse suite—a setup straight out of a movie, from the pale plush carpeting, conversation seating, low-slung tables and enormous television mounted on the wall to a full bar and working kitchen.

  “Make yourself comfortable, and I’ll order room service,” he said. He slipped out of his jacket and tossed it on a vacant chair.

  Jewel set down her purse on the glass table and rested her shawl across the thickly padded couch. She crossed the wide expanse of space to the floor-to-ceiling windows that opened onto the terrace. She opened the doors and stepped out into the warm night. The lights of the city spread out before her.

  Oh, how she remembered nights like this, living like this, whatever she wanted only a phone call away, traveling, seeing the world. She sighed heavily. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

  Warm hands cradled her shoulders. A soft kiss dotted the back of her neck. “I almost forgot how beautiful this city can be,” Craig said into her hair.

  Jewel drew in a breath and slowly turned around, finding herself surrounded by him. Her gaze rose. “It’s had its share of problems. Still struggling and rebuilding, but the history will always remain.”

  He angled his head to the side. “Sounds like my life.”

  “Mine, too,” she admitted with an uneasy smile.

  The pad of his thumb brushed across her cheek. “What parts—the struggle, the rebuilding, the history?”

  “All of it. The choices that I made...”

  “Do you regret them?”

  She lowered her head. A frown knitted her brow. She looked right at him. “Sometimes. And when I do, I feel so...guilty.” She spat out the last word.

  “But once the decision is made, we have to find a way to live with the aftermath.”

  “How do you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  She shook her head. “Never mind. It’s not my business.” She started to move away.

  The doorbell chimed. “Room service,” the voice called out.

  “Be right back.”

  * * *

  Jewel wandered back into the main living space as the waiter set up the cart.

  “Will there be anything else, Mr. Lawson?”

  “No. Thanks.” He walked over to where he’d tossed his jacket, took out his wallet and handed over a sizable tip.

  “Thank you, Mr. Lawson. Thank you very much. Enjoy your evening. Ma’am.” He nodded at Jewel then quietly let himself out.

  Craig lifted the covers on the plates. Fresh fruit was on one platter and an assortment of exotic cheeses and dips and paper-thin crackers on the other.

  “Wow, I’m hungry all over again, if that’s possible,” she said eyeing the fare.

  He took the bottle of white wine from the bucket, poured two flutes and handed one to Jewel.

  “To making choices we can live with,” he said, raising his glass to hers.

  Jewel lightly tapped his glass. “To choices.” She took a sip. “Hmm,” she hummed. “Good stuff.”

  Craig walked over to the couch and sat down. He extended a hand to Jewel. She came and sat close beside him.

  “You asked me how I do it,” he said.

  “You don’t have to—”

  “I want to.” He looked in her eyes. “I want you to know.” He took a swallow of wine, paused reflectively and said, “It’s never gotten easier. I thought it would. I thought I’d get to a point where I really didn’t give a damn, instead of acting like I didn’t.” The corner of his mouth flickered. He looked away. “I miss my sister and brother, my cousins. I haven’t been to a family gathering in years, simply because I don’t want to be in the same room with my father. So I’ve stayed away. I’ve kept busy. I’ve done everything that I can to show him how wrong he was about me and the choices that I made by being successful in everything I’ve undertaken.” He snorted a laugh. “None of that matters. Not once even after receiving a Golden Globe, or being on the front page of the papers, even getting my first Oscar, have I heard a word of congratulations from my father. Never.”

  She reached out and covered her hand with his. Jewel saw the sadness in his eyes and the pain that threaded through his words. Her heart ached for him. She could never imagine her father not being a part of her life and rejoicing in her success. “Have you ever tried to reach out to him?” she asked tentatively.

  He looked away, pushed up from the couch and stood. He went to re
trieve the bottle of wine and refilled his glass. “I’d been gone and out of touch with him for about three years,” he began slowly, reeling in the memories. “I was in Paris when I got the call that I’d been nominated for my first Golden Globe. I just knew that if I told him, he would finally see that I’d made it, ya know.”

  He heaved a sigh. “So, stupid me, I called. The housekeeper answered the phone, and I told her who I was. She came back to the phone a couple of minutes later only to tell me, ‘Mr. Lawson is busy. Do you care to leave a message?’ I told her to tell him he could go straight to hell.” He snorted a nasty laugh. “That was the last time I called.”

  “I’m...so sorry.”

  He waved off her condolence. “Don’t be. I’m used to it.”

  “Are you?”

  “More wine?” he replied instead.

  She extended her glass. “Sure.”

  Craig pushed the cart closer to them, loaded a cracker with two kinds of cheeses and popped it in his mouth. He refilled her glass.

  Jewel reached for the seedless grapes. “You didn’t answer my question. Are you used to it?”

  “I’m used to the life I’ve chosen. I stopped asking myself if I should have done something different or stayed here and followed my father’s dream for me. I know that if I’d listened to my father, I would have grown to resent him. I would’ve been miserable. So...our relationship or lack of one is the price I chose to pay for my decision.”

  “It’s so ironic that both of us made life-altering decisions with our fathers at the center of it,” Jewel said.

  “But we’re on opposite sides of the equation. You’ve never told me in so many words, but I put the pieces together. You gave up a career for your father, didn’t you?”

  She hesitated then nodded.

  “Maybe you’ll tell me the full story...when you’re ready.” He squeezed her hand. “Me on the other hand, I pursued a career in spite of my father.”

  She lowered her gaze. “What a pair, huh?”

  “Yeah, what a pair...that for all of the crazy seem to fit very well together,” Craig said.