by MK Meredith
But what he did have time for was a mutual burning off of some steam. Jimmy was right; he needed to get laid. And for some goddamn reason, he only had eyes for Addi.
But even more, he needed to get his head back in the game.
As a Gallagher, he’d already spent his whole life with a perception of ease forced upon him. He didn’t have to work hard because his family and his own good looks would take care of everything. No worries about becoming a world-renowned producer; being the son and nephew of two well-known, sought-after directors meant he was “in” on name alone.
Well, he didn’t want to be handed anything, and he abhorred the thought of finding success on his family name or his good looks. Success would be his on the grounds of his efforts and abilities or not at all.
First thing Monday morning he’d double his efforts. There were investors out there; it was all a matter of timing. Getting through all the noes until he found his yes. He had a few buddies from college he’d yet to try, and with the meetings he’d set up for early in the week, something had to give.
If all else failed, he’d be back at his financial advisor’s door demanding he find him more money and laughed at all the way out of the building, too. To get the kind of money he needed, he’d have to sell some of his investments, and on such short notice, he’d be losing a lot.
“Are you going to be okay?”
He shot a look her way. “Of course.”
She looked pointedly at his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. “You’re going to find the money. I know you will. I’ve seen you work your magic getting what you want.” Shifting in her seat, she said, sotto voce, “Just find it before you have to fire me.”
“What was that?”
She jerked up her chin, and her eyes darted about while she bit her lip before she said, “You always get what you want.”
“You’re one to talk.”
“I’d simply call it great minds and all.” She laughed, and the sound eased down his back like a cool breeze.
“Thanks for all your help. You’re doing a really great job. Organized. Great with the crew.”
Genuine pleasure shone from her eyes. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
“We have a lot more to pull off before this is through, so don’t stop.”
“You’ve got my word, boss.” She winked.
He pulled up in front of the valet with a laugh, feeling lighter than he had in days. “Let me hand over my car, and I’ll walk you to your room.”
Addi shot her hand out, her eyes round with intensity. “No.”
He raised a brow and stilled.
“I mean…it’s late, and we have an early morning.”
Distraction or not, the rejection stung. Raising his hands, he pulled back. “Yeah. You’re right, it’s late. But just to be clear, I was only going to walk you up. Not ravish you outside your door.”
A look of regret washed over her face.
Now wasn’t that interesting?
Too interesting. His body surged in protest at her retreating form.
As she slid across the seat, he called her name. “Addi.”
Pausing, she leaned back toward him, her dress hanging just enough to allow the swell of her breasts to torture him with their glow of creamy skin. He swallowed past the lump in his throat.
Fuck it.
He shot his hand out and wrapped it around the back of her neck. She grabbed the center console as he pressed his mouth firmly and hotly to hers. As soon as the sensation of her lips registered, desire streaked straight to his groin in a grip so tight he groaned into her mouth. But it was only half from the sensation of her mouth beneath his, the rest was how he felt when he was with her. The energy she brought to a space was like a catalyst. Like he could actually find his way out of this mess. She believed he could. He angled his head for one swift taste of midnight Cabernet, then released her.
She blinked twice, pushed errant strands of hair from her face with a shaky hand and blew out a breath.
Good.
Using the will of the gods, he remained still. “Good night, Addison.”
She slid from the car. “Good night.”
Not until she disappeared into the front revolving doors of Huntington Place did Roque release his breath. Sinking back into his seat, he closed his eyes and demanded his heart to slow down.
The woman would be the end of him if the film didn’t get him first.
A tap on his window yanked him from his recovery, and he snapped his eyes open, his heart jolting in the adrenaline of fight or flight. A valet motioned for him to roll the window down.
Roque lowered the glass.
Shifting from one foot to the next, the young valet asked, “Is there a problem, sir?”
Understatement of the century. Roque wanted to laugh.
“Yes, I believe there is.”
“You kissed him?”
Addi pulled out the last pin and shook her hair. With a dejected harrumph, she dropped to Chase’s sofa. “He kissed me, and then I kind of kissed him back.”
Chase rounded her stone coffee table and handed a glass of wine to Addi. “You bitch. He is sooooooo hot.”
Addi sighed with a whimper. “He is.” She sipped from her glass, then set it on the table. “Which is a problem.”
Standing, she curled her arms behind her back and tugged at the zipper.
Chase stepped around the table. “For Pete’s sake, I’m right here. No reason to strain a shoulder, love.”
Addi dropped her arms to her sides and gave the zipper over to her friend. “I paid the bank, by the way. And the money I’m saving from working and the extra I’m pocketing with the hotel will cover next year’s taxes and part of my living expenses. That should give me some time to figure out what to do next. “
A disapproving grunt was all she got in return.
“Can I borrow a T-shirt and sweat pants?” Addi asked as Chase finished with the zipper.
“Do you promise not to get chocolate all over them?”
Addi laughed. “Shut up. I have real problems.”
“There you go.” Chase stepped back and turned toward her room. “Only problems you’ve created.”
Addi stuck out her tongue at her friend’s retreating back. “Not nice.”
Looking around Chase’s apartment, she couldn’t help the tinge of jealousy at how put-together her friend was. Chase had graduated top of her class in graduate school, held a prestigious position—especially for someone her age—with the Huntington Place chain, she was always jet-setting from one exotic location to the next, and had her own home—which happened to be one of the top floors of her family’s hotel.
And thank God, or Addi would have been SOL for a place to spend the night. Roque would notice the time stamp on the security system if she took a cab back and let herself in now.
Chase strolled back into the living room with a decidedly wicked grin, tossed the clothes to Addi, and lowered into an oversized cream leather chair. “Spill it.”
Addi wiggled out of her dress and donned the borrowed clothing. Laying Chase’s dress over the back of the sofa, Addi sunk in and pulled a decorative pillow to her chest with one hand and her wine glass to her lips with the other.
“Don’t spill wine on that.”
“Shut up.”
“Seriously though.”
Holding her glass just right, Addi slid her middle finger up and down the bridge of her nose, and Chase laughed. The joke about who was the tidy one and who was the sloppy one—or at least accident-prone—was as old as their friendship.
“We went to Raquel Gallagher and Liv Karsten’s jewelry event, which was amazing, by the way. Nothing I could afford, but wow, Liv has talent.” She sipped her wine, picturing the gorgeous abalone necklace she’d fallen in love with.
“I so wanted to make the event, but my flight just got in a bit ago.”
Addi shook her head in awe. “Yet you are freshly showered, and I bet all of your travel luggage is put away.�
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Chase turned her nose up in the air. “I don’t procrastinate.”
Rolling her eyes, Addi continued. “So anyway, Roque and Raquel had a conversation about his mom.”
“She died a couple years ago, didn’t she? Breast cancer or something?”
Addi nodded. “Yeah, and he’s having a hard time with it. Not anything obvious, but we ended up out on the beach with two bottles of wine. Then he kissed me.”
Chase inched forward to the edge of her seat, cradling her wine glass in her palms. “Like a peck on the cheek or a tongue down your throat?”
A grin stretched Addi’s lips wide, and heat suffused her chest with the memory. “Chase—my mind went blank. For a brief moment, he wasn’t my boss, and I forgot my little scheme— Stopping the kiss was the freakin’ hardest thing I’ve done in a long time except I didn’t want us to start things that way. I don’t think one kiss has ever made me lose myself like that.”
Chase leaned back on a breath. “Gaaaaaaaaawd.”
Placing her empty glass on the side table, Addi frowned. “And it can’t happen again…not like that.”
“Why not?” Incredulity colored Chase’s voice.
Addi pulled in a deep breath and blew it out with the tension that kept weighing her down. She stretched her neck to the right and the left with two resounding cracks and tallied the reasons on her fingers. “Because. It was too serious, you know? Emotionally charged. I can’t screw this up, I don’t need a man in my life, especially one like him. He’s all take charge, be responsible, make financially wise decisions—and those guys never get me. Been there, done that, don’t appreciate reruns.”
“And you’re stealing from him.”
Addi dropped her jaw. “I am not—”
Maybe a little, but not him technically. Hollywood. Which was completely different.
She’d just ignore that remark. Oh hell. “I’m taking what Hollywood is offering, and yes, that is another very good reason things with him can never be serious.”
Addi looked around Chase’s apartment, trying to find the right words to make her friend understand. “You’ve got all of this. Stability. Success.” She confessed. “I want that…before I try my hand at love again. God knows I tried it once and nearly married someone who thought less of me than my parents do.”
“Addi.”
The immediate censure in Chase’s voice gave her pause. “Sorry. I know they love me. But for so long, I’ve felt like they worried if I even tried crossing the street on my own. I want to create my own stability, to be capable in people’s eyes, and not be the youngest Dekker who needs to be taken care of all the time.” She shook her head. “I can’t do that if I screw this up. I don’t want to get into a relationship if I can’t offer all of myself as the very best version of me.” She set the pillow beside her and stretched out her legs. “Does that make sense?”
Chase studied her, then set her own glass down. Scooting to the edge of her seat again, she put her palms up. “Love, who said anything about a relationship? I’m not asking you to marry the man, but for an all-day pass to that amusement park? I’d sell my well-educated soul.”
Addi laughed. A deep, satisfying belly laugh. “Phew. I do have to say I would enjoy a ride on his water slide.”
Chase’s eyebrows arched in a very clear question. The instant blush stinging Addi’s cheeks totally gave away her thoughts. She grabbed the pillow and squeezed it to her midsection, laughing.
“In those situations, love, you have to take the opportunity. Never waste a gift that big.”
Addi collapsed into giggles as her friend positioned herself to pop the cork of a celebratory bottle of champagne.
Sobering, she waved her hand. “No, no. I can’t. Seriously, Roque is going to be here at six a.m. since my car’s at my house. I’ve got to get to bed.”
Chase’s shoulders sagged, and she frowned. “Fine. Be responsible. However, my flight doesn’t leave until two. I’ll do the generous thing and celebrate for the both of us. You, for potentially getting laid by the most delectable man in existence, and me, for getting all the dirty details.” She popped the cork.
“I didn’t say I was getting laid by anyone.”
Chase stopped mid-pour and shot her gaze up to meet Addi’s. “I’ve never seen you deny yourself before. You always go after what you want.” She laughed. “Remember the time you used your textbook money to fly to New York because you wanted to see the disco ball drop on New Year’s Eve? That whole semester you had to borrow mine and make copies of each chapter. Pain in the ass, but you got to see your ball.”
Which was exactly the problem.
She had a habit of going after what she wanted without necessarily thinking everything through. Or considering how it would affect those around her.
And look where that had gotten her.
Chapter 11
Roque stood in the frame of the open French doors and rolled back on his heels, trying to wait patiently for a phone call that his gut told him wasn’t coming. The week was almost closing, and he was no closer to obtaining an investor than the day Fairmont pulled out. The future he was fighting so hard for was slowly slipping through his fingers, no matter how tightly he squeezed. Punching something would surely make him feel better, but it would solve nothing. Why the hell did he always have to be so damn reasonable? Just once he’d like to lose it. Just once.
This was the film that would break him out from the pack. It was both a story of sin and redemption. The kind where the consequences of saving a life was the loss of another. A lesson in clawing some sort of existence into the side of a mountain. And it all focused on a female lead. Risky and tough—especially from an indie film—and he was determined to make it happen.
The moment the script had come across his desk over two years ago, he’d recognized it as his moment. His mother had been around the business so long and had such an analytical mind that both he and his dad had run a lot of things by her. He’d shown it to his mother, and she’d seen in it what he did.
But there wouldn’t be a film if he didn’t find an investor soon.
The crew was taking a break, eating the meal Addi had catered in. She had them all seated around the back table, easing from the grueling day. Everyone had been on edge, yet she pulled them all together like a family. Even Kemper had a smile on his face. He should eat something himself, but the knot in his gut had grown so big he couldn’t swallow anything if he’d tried.
Kemper’s phone rang and he answered it. He nailed Roque with a look. Pulling his brows together, he pushed back his chair and threw his napkin on the table. Roque turned and walked into the kitchen, Kemper close on his heels. The last thing he needed was another screaming match around the crew.
“Gallagher.”
Roque moved farther into the front room and then turned around. The news had obviously found its way to his director’s inner circle. Fuck. He was surprised the man hadn’t heard sooner. It wasn’t a secret.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing? My time is valuable.”
“Of course it is.”
“Don’t play games with me. You lost your main investor.”
The words clawed in his chest, and he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Temporary setback, Kemper. The film is moving forward as scheduled.”
“Look, man, I know we play in the land of make-believe, but closing your eyes and clicking your heels won’t change a fucking thing. I’m not going down with your sinking ship. Sorry, Roque.”
Roque’s jaw dropped open. “You can’t quit on me.”
The director walked to the front door. “That’s exactly what I’m doing. This is a business first, and I’m not connecting my name to a film that’s tanked before it even started. I need to be working.”
Roque followed, close on his heels. “The film is just fine. Come on.” He gripped Doug’s arm. “This project will succeed. You’ll be sorry you walked away.”
Kemper looked down at Roque’s hand then back t
o his face. “I’ll take my chances.”
Roque dropped his hand and watched as his director—scratch that—as Kemper pulled out of the driveway, rear lights mocking him as they disappeared down the road.
Panic welled in his chest, keeping pace with his racing heart. Fuck! No investor, no director. He was losing before he had the chance to fucking begin. Pulling in a breath, he swung around. He needed everyone to get the hell out so he could figure out what the hell he was going to do.
“Addi.” His yell carried across the backyard.
She came through the French doors, and seeing his face, rushed up to him. “What happened?” Jimmy followed close behind.
“Send everyone home.”
She grabbed his hand. “Why? What’s going on?”
He shrugged her off and leaned back against the counter. “Kemper’s out. I need to find a new director, and if I don’t find an investor soon, it’s all over.”
“Fucking Kemper. He’s always been such an asshole,” Jimmy said, then, throwing a hand out toward Addi, added, “Sorry.”
She laughed. “For what?” Turning back to Roque, she gave him a reassuring smile. He wished he could believe it.
“I’ll send the crew home. Give me a list of people I can call. I can set up appointments for first thing tomorrow,” she said.
He nodded.
Everyone cleared out without having to be asked twice. Free Friday nights didn’t come often during filming. The quiet left behind roared with desperation in his ears.
Jimmy walked into the kitchen and dropped into the chair across from Roque. “What’s the plan?”
Shaking his head, Roque swore. “Fuck if I know. I’ll step into the director position for as long as it takes to find someone, but it isn’t ideal.”
Jimmy shrugged. “Maybe not, but it’s done all the time.”
“I know. But my skill is making the film happen, getting others excited about it, and pulling the strings—which is demanding enough right now. I don’t want to be bogged down with filling the director’s shoes. That almost doubles my current workload, and I’m already stretched thin. But I’ll do what needs to be done. It’ll buy me some time.”
