by K. M. Scott
Her mention of my public humiliation and being left brokenhearted as if it was something good makes me cringe. Looking down toward my lap, I say in a low voice, “Sorry my misery didn’t last long enough for you.”
“Well, whatever it was for you privately, it was a boon professionally. The public loves a tragic story, and that son of a bitch served us up one on a silver platter. You should thank him for that, dear.”
“I’ll make sure to do that the next time I see him with the woman he dumped me for,” I mumble.
“Cheer up! Men are a dime a dozen in this world. Just look at me. I’ve been married three times. Divorced three times too, but the possibility of number four is always right around the corner. As long as someone like you picks men who can help her when it ends, that’s all that matters.”
My publicist continues to talk about the sad ending of my relationship with John, but I tune her out, preferring to think about how happy I am with Ian. As different from that bastard as night from day, he’s thoughtful and sensual. John was just a good looking stud who never cared about anything but getting laid and moving up the ladder of success.
I wish I could tell her about Ian to prove to her I’m not some pathetic mess who needs to be torn apart to stay interesting to the movie-going public. My relationship with Ian makes me happy and proud, but I know the dangers of letting the world know about us. He can’t afford that, even if it would help me.
“So I want you to let me know the minute you hear anything about the part. I want to get the news out there and blanket the media with it. You’re on the verge of becoming a huge movie star, Kristina. We don’t want to lose a minute of the spotlight.”
“I will. Don’t worry.”
I get up to leave, exhausted and on the verge of feeling like shit after our meeting, but she stops me and almost as an afterthought says, “And if you get together with anyone, make sure he’s famous, would you? It would make a world of difference. Too many stars are hooking up with nobodies these days, and I can’t tell you how hard it is to spin gold out of something like that.”
“Thanks, Joanne. I’ll keep that in mind as I look for love,” I say, my words dripping with sarcasm she seems to miss entirely.
“Good, good, good. Tell Jennie I said hi and to take my calls every so often.”
“I will.”
Happy to be away from the emotional chaos of Joanne and her rapid fire talking, I head over to my agent’s office a few blocks away. A few years younger but in an entirely different league professionally than my publicist, Jennie’s never liked her, and I think I’m beginning to see why. I can totally understand why she’d not want to take her calls.
For Jennie, her place in my professional life is less one of orders and directions and more one of support. That she’s entirely worried I’m going to leave her at any moment for another agent doesn’t lessen how much I like her. And compared to my friends’ agents, she’s a gem.
Her office is only slightly bigger than my publicist’s, but the dimensions have been rendered meaningless because of the way she’s arranged it. The beige walls are practically bare, with just a sparse collection of framed nature photos hanging on them. At first glance, her wooden desk and workstation seem like they’re too big for such a small space, but they’re the only furniture someone sees as they sit there with her because she’s cleverly turned a closet at the back of the room into a walk-in bookcase. So while she works in very much the same size office as Joanne, the effect couldn’t be more different.
Jennie extends her well-manicured hand out to shake mine as I’m shown in to her office. “Kristina, how are you? You look wonderful and completely rested. Whatever you’re doing, it’s working.”
“Thank you. I feel good. I’m ready to go back to work, so I hope you have good news for me.”
Her plum colored lips hitch up at the corners into a gentle smile that goes all the way to her dark green eyes, letting me know she’s genuinely happy to tell me what she has to say. “I do. Your audition blew them away. I knew it would, but they made their decision this morning. They want you, Kristina. The part of Cherise is yours, if you want it.”
This is what I’ve been waiting to hear for weeks. I’d auditioned for the part of Cherise Johnson, a down-on-her-luck prostitute trying to change her life in spite of the man she loves doing everything in his power to keep her under his control and weak, but I’d considered myself a longshot for the part, at best. Bigger names than me had expressed interest in the role, and I worried I looked too Midwest, white bread for it. I’d shown up to the audition in costume, fully ready to show them I was Cherise Johnson, and even though I’d thought it had gone well, I still didn’t feel sure I’d convinced them I could do it.
I believed I could, though, and now that I’d get the chance, I’d show everyone I could do it.
“That’s wonderful, Jennie! I’m so happy,” I said, barely able to contain my giddiness at the news.
“Shooting begins in a few weeks in Vancouver, so get yourself packed and ready to go. They’re sending everything over by courier later today, so once it all gets here, you can sign on the dotted line and the deal with be made. You’re going to be incredible, Kristina. I just know it.”
“I think so too,” I say, not caring for once that I sound like I’m bragging.
“This could be it—the big break you’ve been looking for. This role has everything. You’re really going to get the chance to stretch your limits with this one. You beat out some big names.”
The way she says that makes me think she’s most impressed by that fact. Hilary Swank and Natalie Portman had been the frontrunners the last time I heard, and knowing I got the role instead of them thrills me more than I could say. It seems to thrill Jennie too.
“I know. I can’t believe it now that it’s sunken in.”
“Finally, a role to show them your chops. I’ve been waiting for a role like this for you since you came to me, you know that?”
“Thank you, Jennie. You always believed in me. That means so much to me.”
“You promise when they announce your name for the Oscar you won’t drop me for a flashier agent out there in LA?” she asks, her expression suddenly far more serious than it was a minute ago.
I know this is one of her biggest fears. Since I signed with her, she’s worried almost constantly about me leaving her for another agent. Not that I would. I like her in my professional life. Compared to virtually everyone else who surrounds me, she feels like the calm in the middle of a storm. That’s too important to me to lose.
“I’m not going anywhere, Jen. You’ve stuck with me through minor roles and critics saying I wasn’t living up to the hype and my looks. If this role means doors begin to open for me, I’m going to be going through them with you. I don’t want another agent. They’re all too much like Joanne.”
Jennie makes a noise that sounds like pure disgust at the mention of my publicist. “I know she’s been with you nearly as long as I have, but her vision for you troubles me. She loved the media circus that came from your breakup with John. I can’t tell you how many times she called me to discuss how we could use this to further your career.”
I shrug and try to act nonchalant about the one topic I’d rather not discuss. “Joanne sees things from a different perspective, I guess.”
My agent screws her face into an expression of disgust. “She’s like an ambulance chaser.” Quickly, she holds up her hands and shakes her head. “I’m sorry. That’s not appropriate for me to say. I just didn’t like the glee she seemed to feel at your heartbreak.”
“It’s over now, so it’s all in the past. I’m onto bigger and better things,” I say with a smile, genuinely feeling good.
Jennie levels her gaze on me. “Are we still talking about your career or something else here?”
I want to share how happy I am with Ian, but my promise to him to keep our relationship private echoes in my ears. So I tell a lie, more a sin of omission really. “My career, of
course, but I’m feeling really good about my personal life too. I’m over that John mess and ready for a new love.”
“That’s what I love to hear! Just keep that positive attitude and I know things will work out. Now get yourself home and start packing. I’ll give you a call when I get the papers.”
“Okay.” Extending my hand, I shake hers and say, “Thanks so much again, Jennie. I couldn’t have gotten this without your help.”
She takes me into her arms for a hug. “Nonsense. I’m just the messenger. You’re the one they’re dying to work with, so go show them what you got, kid.”
I leave her office feeling like I’m walking on air. This film is my big chance. After years of working hard at my craft and taking roles other actresses saw as beneath them, I finally had the opportunity to break out and show the world what I could do with my talent.
But what about Ian and me? The idea of leaving him for months to go shoot a movie in Vancouver makes me break out in a cold sweat. One week we were apart and he slept with another woman. But that was because I left him, I remind myself.
But I’ll be leaving him now too. He’s become so much a part of my life that imagining it without him scares the hell out of me. What if he doesn’t want to wait for me?
I hurry to his apartment to see him, debating all the way there whether I should tell him my good news or not. I know he’ll be happy for me because he loves me, but it’s so early in the relationship to be apart for so long. He answers his door and I throw my arms around him, already missing the feel of his body next to mine.
“Kristina, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” he asks, not knowing how much my good news is torturing me at that moment.
“I missed you. That’s all.”
Closing the door, he takes me by the hand to the couch and practically beaming says, “I have wonderful news. My publisher agreed to the Marc Antony book, so I need to travel to Rome to research before I begin writing. What do you say to a month in the Eternal City?”
His eyes are wide with excitement as he tells me his good news, and I can’t bring myself to say no, even though I know there’s no way I can take this trip with him and begin work on the film at the same time. As he waits for my answer, I see how much this means to him, so I nod and smile as I tell him I can’t wait for our trip together.
“As soon as I knew I’d be going there again, I looked into making reservations for us. Oh, Kristina, you’re going to love it there. We’ll see the sights and it will be the best trip I’ve ever had to Rome.”
He describes all the plans he’s making, and all I can think is how he included me in them without any prodding from me. No man has ever put me first like this. How am I going to ever tell him I can’t go because of my work?
“And I have another surprise for you. Silk is ready. I’m going to self-publish it tonight or tomorrow. Our story isn’t going to be just ours anymore.”
“What does that mean? Aren’t you going to use a pseudonym?”
“Yes, but as a writer, I know once a story is published, it no longer really stays mine. I have no idea if anyone will want to read it or even be able to find it, but it’s ready.”
I kiss him and swipe a dark stray lock of hair from his forehead. “I know people are going to love it. How couldn’t they? You wrote it.”
“Maybe I’m not a very good writer if it’s not historical fiction,” he says in a voice that makes me think he truly isn’t sure about readers loving our story.
I trace the outline of his lower lip and lean in to gently suck it into my mouth. Giving it a tiny nip, I see the desire in his eyes and let go. “You’re a great writer all the time, Ian, and the story you’ve told in Silk is sensual and erotic. I just know people will love it.”
Sliding his hands down to cup my ass, he pulls me to him and I feel his already hard cock. “I’d planned on telling you all about the plans I’m making for our trip, but that can wait. Right now, I’d rather be balls deep inside you than talk about anything else.”
“More research for your writing?”
Ian shakes his head as he sensually drags his lips down my neck. “Not exactly.”
I don’t stop him, and for a few moments I’m able to push the reality of what I have to tell him out of my mind. His love for me comes through in every touch of his hand and every kiss. Gently, he pulls my skirt down my body and kneeling in front of me, Ian looks up with his dark eyes and gives me one of his sexy smiles I love so much.
“I can’t tell you how happy I am that I get to spend time in one of my favorite places in the world with the woman I love.”
As he slides his hands up my thigh and presses his lips to my sex, my body begins to soar. I want to be able to lose myself in him like always, but I can’t forget that at some point I’m going to have to tell him the truth and ruin all his plans.
When I told Kristina I wasn’t even sure anyone would find Silk, I wasn’t kidding. Forget about the needle in the haystack. Selling a book online seems akin to the task of finding one particular tiny piece of hay in a haystack. How anyone sells any real number of books baffles me, but Sheila had said that some authors were doing it, so I figure I’ll jump in with both feet and upload Silk to all the major sales outlets that sell my historical fiction books and will take my self-published one.
It’s almost too easy. I know nothing about formatting a book to be published, but with a little reading about it online, I’m ready to go. I agree to read a friend’s book in exchange for a simple very sexy cover and then it’s time to upload.
For two days I watch our book just sit there as nobody finds it. I’m not really surprised given the nature of the major sites. Again, Silk is just one tiny piece of hay in their big haystacks. Then on the third day, there’s one sale. One. As I check the sales totals each day, I have to wonder how anyone makes any kind of living this way.
It’s definitely not something that grows organically, but for my first foray into erotica, I’m happy. A few more people buy it, and slowly reviews trickle in that show readers loving Kate and Sean as much as I loved writing them. It’s no bestseller, but I’m pleased.
Then just about five days after it’s published, I happen to be surfing through the channels as I wait for Kristina one night and see a reporter on one of the entertainment news shows say that actress Kristina Richards mentioned the book she’s reading now is Silk. Stunned to hear that, I ask her about it when she arrives.
“They were asking me bunches of questions. Did you see the whole thing? What part did you see?” she asks in an excited voice as I pour her a glass of wine.
“Not much. Just the part about the book. Was there anything else they asked you that I should know about?”
Taking the glass from my hand, she shakes her head and asks in a shaky voice, “Like what? What else would they ask me?”
She’s nervous. It’s clear in the way she’s acting, but I don’t know why. “You didn’t say anything about us, did you?”
Kristina sighs, visibly relieved by my question. “No, no. Is that what you were worried about? I told you I won’t say anything.”
“Did you say you knew the author of Silk?” I press further, still wondering why she was so nervous a minute ago.
“No. I just mentioned it in the hopes that maybe if they included that on their program that it could help it get seen. Has it?”
“Not in any appreciable way yet,” I say with a smile, still incredulous about how anyone makes a living as an author this way.
Kristina gives me a tiny kiss and smiles up at me. “I’m not a huge name, so maybe nobody cares what I read in my spare time. The interviewer did ask me what it was about, so I told her. Did they include that in the show?”
“No, not that I saw. It might have helped. You know what they say. Sex sells.”
My joke makes her giggle and she nuzzles my neck. “Mmmm…yes it does.”
Taking her in my arms, I kiss the tender skin just below her ear and ask, “Have you been thinking about
our trip? Are you excited about it?”
Her neck and shoulders tense up, and I lift my head to see her beautiful blue eyes clouded over. She forces a smile, but something’s wrong. I can see it. Nodding, she answers, “I haven’t thought much about it yet, but I’m very excited. I’ve never been to Rome.”
I want to break the tension that’s settled in between us, although I have no idea why it has, so I ask, “Not even for a film? I thought movie stars travelled around the world.”
Scrunching up her face, she says, “Some might, but I haven’t yet.”
There’s a pregnant pause as I watch her silently struggle to decide whether or not she wants to continue talking. She’s hiding something from me, but what? Backing away from her, I lean against the counter and fold my arms across my chest.
“Is something wrong, Kristina?”
“No. Why would something be wrong?”
Every person in the world who has something they’re hiding has asked that question in response to being asked if something is wrong. I don’t know what it is, but if she won’t tell me, my gut says it’s bad. I walk past her into the living room, hoping that when she follows me she’ll tell me what’s wrong.
I watch her as she comes toward me on the couch. If any poker player ever had a tell like she does, they’d lose their shirt every hand. My girl is a terrible liar.
“Why did you walk away like that?” she asks as she sits down next to me, cuddling up to my side.
“Just seemed like the thing to do so we don’t get into a fight tonight.”
I turn to see her blue eyes wide with surprise. “What would we fight about? I don’t understand.”
Studying her body language, I believe her, strangely enough. The worried tone in her voice says she doesn’t understand what we’d fight about because I suspect she doesn’t realize how clearly guilty she looks and whatever she’s not telling me is much worse than the sin of omission she’s committing.
“We promised to be truthful always, Kristina. Something in the way you’re acting tells me you’re not being truthful.”
