Both Andrea and I stared at him, mouths agape. He lifted an eyebrow and directed the next question at me. “You think I can’t apologize?”
I gulped. “I think you’re a powerful man. And in my experience, powerful men tend to see apologies as a weakness.” I lifted my chin just a touch higher.
“That’s probably true of a lot of men,” Ash said in a surprising twist. “But not me. I think there’s power in someone knowing when they’ve fucked up.” He looked once more to Andrea. “I’m sorry. A lot of the regulars here tend to be very private about this place.” Andrea was still standing behind the bar, frozen, her mouth hanging open. There wasn’t much that left that girl speechless. Then, turning back to me, Ash said, “We have a lot of systems in place to keep the private section of LnS hush-hush. Few people know it exists and even fewer know the details inside.” He smiled playfully and rocked back on his heels. “Guess we didn’t account for someone with your deductive reasoning waltzing in.”
God, his eyes. Every time he looked at me, it felt like he was seeing into my soul. Slicing me open like a surgeon, only instead of seeing muscles and organs, he was looking inside at my innermost thoughts and freaking desires. Right now? Tonight? I didn’t care he was my boss. I didn’t care that Uncle Richard was his boss. All I wanted was to rip open that shirt, scatter the buttons across this bar’s floor and run my tongue along that tanned throat.
“My eyes are up here, you know,” Ash said, and I snapped out of it. Oh God. I’d been staring at his neck. Like I was a freaking sparkly vampire or some shit. I dove for my drink, wrapping my lips around the straw and drinking hard. Anything to give myself something else to do—something else to look at. Other than Ash and his bright blue eyes and sexy smile and muscled throat… shit, I was doing it again.
His laugh echoed through the bar, over the thrum of the music. Then, leaning in, I could feel his hot breath against my ear. Blowing my hair back— my stupid frizzy, mousy hair. And for the first time in a year, I found myself wishing I had done more than just run a brush through it this morning. For the first time in a year, I wished I looked prettier. More like the girl I used to be.
And that was terrifying.
I had vowed to never dress for anyone but myself again. No man should ever be able to bring back that girl. The girl who was so eager to please her mother, her boyfriend, her sorority sisters, that she didn’t even know what she really wanted in life. And the man who brought back that side of me? He was the one to stay away from.
“It’s okay,” Ash whispered. “I’ve been staring at your neck too. I’m just a lot better at hiding it.”
He was like a spider. And now that he knew how to trap me, he could spin a web that I was sure to fly right into.
“This is not good,” I whispered, feeling my face go hot.
Ash chuckled and took a sip as he nodded. “You’re telling me. I just came out tonight to have a drink, get away from the crew, blow off some steam… and try to get my mind off of you.” I snapped my gaze back to him.
No. No, I did not hear him correctly. Was it possible that the tingly connection I felt with him not once, but twice today on set, he actually felt, too? He spoke into his glass, like he was talking to it, not me. “Had no idea I’d find you here. It’s like a damn blessing and a curse rolled into one.”
I swallowed hard. The consistent beat of the music pulsed, matching the rhythm of my heart. The ice inside my glass was melting and the outside was sweating, creating cold droplets of water gliding over my fingertips. The dim lights somehow gave the bar an appearance of being smoky even though smoking wasn’t allowed. “So, what do we do now?” I asked.
Ash sighed. “We finish our drinks. And each go on our way. Deal?” He held his glass out to mine. Tentatively, I lifted it and clinked the lip of my glass to the edge of his bourbon.
“Deal.”
“You have got to be kidding me!” I cried, leaning forward on my bar stool. “There is no way that Liza Minelli is more talented than Judy Garland!”
Ash gave me a doubtful look and shrugged. “You have your opinion and I have mine.”
“But your opinion is wrong and stupid and—and—and how can you call yourself a director and make that claim?” I knew my voice was shrieking, and yet I couldn’t help it. Not with that asinine statement he just made.
He laughed, dropping his head. “Look. From what I’ve seen, Judy was a one-trick pony. She had a beautiful voice, but she almost always played the ingénue. Liza can do it all… sing, dance, she could play a serious role and also do comedy like a motherfucker.”
“You have clearly never seen A Star is Born.”
“And you have clearly never seen Arrested Development.” Ash tapped the tip of my nose with his index finger. Sometime during the silly, heated discussion, we had inched closer and closer together until we were merely a few inches apart.
My breath deepened, and I could feel the intense tightness in my chest. I was so close that I could count his eyelashes; could see the way his eyes weren’t just blue, but more of a cerulean color with the outer edges, deep cobalt rings.
We said we would finish our drinks together—but the one turned into two. And now, we were nearly nose to nose staring at each other in a way that left me feeling achingly vulnerable and also ready to strip down to nothing right here at the bar for him.
I cleared my throat and pushed away my empty glass. “I should probably go.”
Ash tilted his head, asking why without even uttering a word.
“It’s been a long day and I have a feeling tomorrow will be even longer.” Then, in a veiled attempt at changing the subject, I gestured to Andrea who was at the other end of the bar, fixing a martini. “And just so you don’t get blindsided by us twice… on Monday, Andrea will be meeting with you and Kelly. She’s the designer I was telling you about.”
He blinked and leaned back, noticeably surprised. And giving me just enough space that my breath returned to normal. “Well, you two are just full of surprises.”
I shrugged and grabbed my purse from the hook below the bar. “Right. So, you see why this was probably a bad idea. Besides, I doubt Kelly would be very happy if she found out about this.”
“This?” He lifted a brow.
He had asked the question, yet there was a knowingness in his tone. He knew what. He just wanted to hear me say it. “About you and I having a drink together. Just the two of us… outside of the studio.”
Jutting his bottom lip out in thought, he answered, “Well then, let’s go back to the studio. Have a drink there.”
I huffed a sigh. “You think you’re being cute, but it’s actually annoying.” Annoying and cute.
“We’re just two people who work together who happened to run into each other at the bar.”
I shifted on the stool and fidgeted with the empty tumbler. “So you said.”
“You don’t agree?”
When I didn’t answer him, he continued staring at me in that same intense way. The man had to be blind not to notice the way Kelly was constantly coming on to him. Not that I could blame her… If I had any game at all, I would be coming on to him, too. Sadly, “having game” in my world meant that I was the reigning champion of Clue. And I was, too. Seriously… break that bad boy out and see. I’d know that it was Colonel Mustard with the lead pipe in the Conservatory in four turns.
After an intense game of chicken to see who would talk first, Ash sighed. “Well, just so you know, this annoying guy feels bad for getting you into trouble after the meeting today.”
I snorted and stabbed my straw into the now melting ice. “Nah, it wasn’t so bad—wait, how did you know I got in trouble?”
He took a sip, taking his time to roll the amber liquid over his tongue and desire pulsed between my legs at the sight of his tongue working the drink. Stupid, lucky scotch. “She was yelling in the hallway. I heard her as I left.”
Heat stained my cheeks. Shit, that was embarrassing. I knew that some people on the c
rew heard me getting my ass handed to me, but I had desperately hoped Ash hadn’t.
“See?” Ash said, pointing at me. “That right there… that look. I feel bad. I’m sorry for getting you in trouble.”
I shrugged. “You didn’t do anything wrong in that meeting. All you asked for was my opinion.”
“I know. And you didn’t do anything wrong by answering my question. Really, the person who should be apologizing to you is Kelly. But I think we both know she won’t be doing that any time soon.”
“She’s not so bad to work for. She seems really excited for this movie and she’s just trying to do her best for you. I don’t know anyone who would react well to their boss looking to an assistant for input on a project they were having trouble with. Anyone would feel threatened by that.”
Ash snorted. “She comes from streaming programming where her dad was the executive producer of the show. And to be honest, she’s not acting threatened. She’s acting like a spoiled brat. That’s what happens, I guess, when Daddy gets you into an industry where you don’t belong.”
Even though his words weren’t about me, they still stung. I shrugged and looked up at Ash once more to find his gaze intensely steeled onto me. “Nepotism or not, she’s here to stay. So give her a chance. I bet she’ll make it work.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Why are you defending someone who has it out for you?”
That was a damn good question. Maybe because in some ways, defending Kelly was like defending myself. Maybe because she was my boss and I felt a loyalty to her. “Because… I don’t believe Kelly is bad. I think she’s hardened by this industry. And being catty in response to her isn’t going to help—it’s just going to make her retaliate. All I can do is live and work with kindness and honesty. Be the good I want to see in the world… and all that Kumbaya shit.”
Ash studied me and gave a small “hm,” sound—sharp and short, almost like he was laughing. But he wasn’t. Not even close. A simmering heat swirled in my stomach. Then, breaking my gaze, he shook his head, taking another sip of scotch.
Andrea slid me another drink and gave me a glint-eyed smirk. I had already had one too many, and with only the handful of almonds I ate on the way here, it was going to my head. Fast.
“Kumbaya shit,” Ash repeated. “That’s very… mature of you.”
“I have my moments.”
A woman with short, blonde hair in a pixie cut slid into the bar next to Ash, interrupting us. Her gaze remained down, focused on the edge of the bar.
“Eve,” Ash said. “Oh, shit… I totally forgot about our meeting.”
“I see that,” she said, her eyes sliding briefly to me. Her eyeliner winged out at the edges and bright red lipstick filled in an already plump pout.
My cheeks felt hot, and I was sure that if I glanced in the mirror behind the bar, my face would be bright red. Ash had a date tonight. Or at least, it seemed like he did. A date he’d forgotten about because of me. That fact shouldn’t make me giddy… but it did.
“I actually won’t be needing you tonight after all,” Ash said.
Her eyes narrowed and the corners of her bright red lips tightened. “I have a cancellation policy—”
“I know,” Ash said, his voice calm and controlled despite how upset she looked. “Have Chloe add it to my bill and I’ll pay you for the time regardless.”
Ash had a date… with a prostitute? I glanced at her again. She didn’t look like a prostitute. Maybe it was something else… another sort of meeting. But my gut told me otherwise. There was something in the way her hand rested on his arm, her thumb brushing in slow, methodical strokes. They had an intimacy between them that made my stomach turn.
Her shoulders relaxed with that and she even gave him a small smile as she bowed her head. “Thank you, Sir.”
“Eve, I want to introduce you to Lucy. My… friend.” I swallowed. Friend. Not co-worker. Not colleague. Was that what we were becoming?
“It’s nice to meet you,” Eve said. Her smile was warm, but her eyes were a totally different story; cold as they traveled up from my ballet flats, across my frayed jeans and worn-out, still-damp t-shirt to my glasses. Like two peacocks sizing each other up, except one of the peacocks had gorgeous, exotic feathers; and the other was more like a pheasant. Plain. Brown. Boring. That was me. An intentionally boring bird so that the other peacocks attracted the mates, not me.
Andrea delivered Eve’s drink in record time. Even as a bartender, that girl was the best wing-woman ever.
“It was nice seeing you Eve,” Ash said, handing her the freshly poured drink. “Sorry again for the confusion.”
Her smile flickered like a dying flame, and she nodded, grabbing the drink and disappeared into the thick crowd of people.
Ash turned his attention back to me, smiling. “Where were we?”
Sir. She’d called him Sir. He had come here for her. To be with that woman, it seemed. My stomach dropped, and I hated the swell of emotion that clogged my chest. I swallowed, pushing the half-empty vodka-Diet-Coke aside. “I was leaving. You and Eve could still…” My voice faded, and I wasn’t sure exactly what to say. “You could still catch her. Keep your date.”
“I’d rather sit here with you, sip my drink and talk more about how awesome Liza Minelli is.”
I snorted, shaking my head.
“You don’t believe me?”
“No. I don’t.”
“Why?”
I sighed. “Well, for starters, you didn’t know I was at this bar—as you pointed out earlier. And since you’ve made it clear you’re not afraid of people knowing your ‘kink,’ I would guess you came here tonight to, um, hang out with Eve.” To pay to hang out with Eve, though I kept that part to myself.
A flicker of a smile curved his lips. “Hang out?” he repeated.
I tossed my hands up, defeated, and they landed in my lap with a satisfying snap. “Fuck. Tie up. Spank. Whatever.”
His smile tilted higher, yet he remained cool and collected. Totally unfazed by the accusations I was tossing his direction. “First of all, I don’t ‘hang out’ with anyone. I fuck them. Hard. I make their ass welt and their toes curl. Women I have scenes with leave my playroom the next morning begging me for more.” I swallowed, my throat suddenly parched. “Second, Eve is a professional submissive and I had booked an appointment with her to interview about how she entered the community. For research for the movie.” He paused, licking his lips before continuing. “Then I ran into you here at the bar and I’m finding this chat extremely enlightening. And way more fun.”
I cleared my throat. “I can’t imagine why. I’m not a sub. And I’m not interested,” I said, then cleared my throat. “Interesting. I meant to say I’m not interesting.” Holy Freudian slip.
His smile widened. “I beg to differ. I think you are interesting.” Then, he leaned in, his gaze tracing down my body. “And I think you are interested.”
When I opened my mouth, words knotted up at the back of my tonsils. I couldn’t exactly say Uncle Richard, your boss, warned me that you sleep with women you work with. “Well, I’m not. Interested, that is.”
“Why not?”
To be fair, Uncle Rich had actually warned me about every man on the crew. There was literally a list he put together of each crew member and why I needed to stay away from them. But at the top of that list? Was Ash. I cleared my throat. “Let’s just say you’ve developed a reputation around set.”
Ash sighed, and for the first time since I met him—no, since I caught my first glimpse of him on set—there was a crack in his assured demeanor. A tiny fissure that broke the solid ground he stood on. Small, but enough to shake loose his strong stance. “Shit…” He pinched fingers around his nose and squeezed his eyes tightly closed. “Kelly told you about us, didn’t she?”
Wait… What? Kelly told me… Oh my God. Kelly. And Ash. That explained so much. The way she was so neurotic about Ash. And why she got so bent out of shape when he showed me attention. Closing my
eyes briefly, I forced myself to not look shocked. I forced my jaw to stay tightly closed and my eyes to remain impassive.
Ash took a large swallow of his drink, and as he set it down, his fingers brushed over the ring he wore on his pinky, twirling it nervously. It was an oddly delicate, feminine looking ring for a man of his size, and I couldn’t help but think it was meant for someone else… meant for a woman. “Look, it was months ago. Before we even went into pre-production for this. I had no idea they were going to choose her as the costume designer. I didn’t even know she was interviewing for the job. We met at a party, had a few too many, and ended up at her place.”
I put on a cold, tight-lipped smile. “That seems to be a pattern with you.”
“Tell me about it,” he muttered.
“So, Kelly’s a submissive?”
Ash shook his head. “She’s not. It wasn’t a scene… it was just sex.”
“A… scene?”
He gave a self-indulgent chuckle that I couldn’t quite dissect. Was he laughing at me? In spite of himself? “It’s a BDSM term. Like... a pre-planned night or weekend of games. We set the beginning, middle, and end; and call them scenes.”
“Oh, right,” I nodded, pretending like I knew exactly what he was talking about. Because really… I should. We were filming a movie about BDSM and I felt kind of stupid not knowing what was apparently a basic term of the lifestyle.
“Anyway,” Ash said, “as you know, there’s that stupid studio policy. It’s not a fireable offense, fraternizing, but it’s definitely frowned on. And once Kelly was hired, she and I both signed a contract stating that the one time we were together was consensual. But it’s over. Nothing has happened since.”
His words hit me in the chest like dry ice. Cold. Damaging. “It’s not stupid,” I said quietly.
His brows scrunched between his eyes. “What?”
“The studio policy. It’s not stupid. It’s an important rule to have in place so that people in powerful positions can’t wield that power to get employees to sleep with them. It’s hard enough in this industry.” The reality of our situation was slamming into me. Ash was my boss. My boss on my first ever professional movie gig. I couldn’t screw this up, even if I did have Uncle Rich to fall back on. Tonight had been fun. Too fun. But this girl? This flirty girl who drinks vodka-Diet-Cokes and touches his arm and notices the deep cerulean shade of eyes wasn’t who I was. Not anymore. And pursuing this? Staying here with him was going to get us both in trouble.
Role Play (Silhouette Studios) Page 6
