Fast Glamour

by Maggie Marr

  He clasped his hand on my shoulder and his eyes held a hint of love and softness and then they closed over again into anger. “Son, I love you. I truly do. But you need to know that I am going to use every bit of influence I can muster to make certain you never, ever make this film.”

  I remained stoic, but inside my nerves were on edge. Dad was a Legend. Truly. His box office was in the billions, and he’d survived Hollywood for decades. He had a lot of friends with a lot of pull, and if he put his full weight behind something he could make anything happen Right now, I hated him. He was a selfish bastard who did whatever he wanted, thinking only of himself with complete and utter disregard for anyone else, including his family.

  “You know what, Dad? For the first time in my life, I don’t care what you think. Go try to scare someone else.” With that, I shifted the box in my arms and walked out the door

  *

  I was now unemployed or, perhaps self-employed was a more accurate description. My heart was still pounding as I gripped the steering wheel, but I felt good. I put my car in reverse and hit the accelerator.

  On my way to Venice, my phone rang and I pressed the hands-free button and accepted the call. “Hello?”

  “I have Mike Fox for Sterling Legend,” the cheery voice said on the end of the line.

  “This is Sterling, put him through.”

  I waited. I still felt unsettled after what had just happened between me and Dad and I had a good guess as to why Worldwide’s President of Production was calling me. I wasn’t the President of Legend Pictures anymore, or the producer of their biggest franchise. I had one small piece of business with Worldwide, and it was a piece of business that Worldwide’s biggest star didn’t want anyone to have.

  “Hey, Sterling,” Mike said. Regret tinged his voice. The moment of regret before the kill shot.

  “What’s up, Mike?” I kept my voice light. I wouldn’t make this easy for him. I wouldn’t let him out simply because Dad was being a bully.

  “I need to let you know that we can’t take foreign on The Lady’s Regret.”

  “Why not?”

  There was a distinct pause. Not many people actually questioned the president of a studio when they told you how things were going to be, but I needed to hear it. I wanted to hear whatever excuse Mike had prepared—if he’d readied any excuse at all. Besides, I was not going to make this easy for him.

  “Because your father is too valuable to piss off,” Mike said.

  “Wow, I’m impressed. I definitely didn’t expect the truth.” My project was being killed but at least it was being killed honestly.

  “Why bullshit you? You know your dad, you know The Lady’s Regret is aces, you know I love it and I want to help you make it but, quite simply, money talks.”

  “And when it’s Steve Legend it talks even louder.”

  Mike laughed. “Man, you know about Jennifer, too? Right?”

  “Not yet, but I’m guessing she’s being offered an amazing role with a giant payday.”

  “We went out to Jennifer for the lead in a big film.”

  “Come on Mike? Really? No fucking way, you’re offering her The Legend Kills?”

  “I did not say that.”

  “You don’t have to. You’ve already approached my director and getting Jennifer is the obvious way to completely destroy The Lady’s Regret. Jennifer will say yes because she wants to work with Cami, and Cami will say yes because she has to say yes to a hundred million dollar budget and a huge franchise film. I mean she’s a woman; they don’t get offered action films. Nice fucking play.”

  “Your dad plays the game to win, Sterling, he always has.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Winning.” Losing, for a Legend, was nearly unbearable. I was a Legend. I wasn’t going to sit around and let Dad get the best of me.

  “He is very astute, your dad.”

  “You say astute, I say …” I stopped myself. It wasn't the Legend way to air our dirty laundry to the world. “Right. Okay. Thanks.”

  “Good luck, Sterling. Steve mentioned that he hoped you’d come back and produce The Legend Kills now that The Lady’s Regret is on hold. I can’t imagine anyone managing those films, the set, and your father better than you.”

  “Yeah, thanks, Mike. I’ve had a lifetime to learn how to manage Dad.”

  The line went dead as I turned onto my street. I pulled into my drive. The call from Mike hadn’t been a big surprise because, well, it was Dad, and he was used to winning, no matter what it took. But the woman standing on my front step with the long blonde hair wearing a white sundress and sandals, now that was a surprise. Seeing Rhiannon standing on my front steps was something I had not expected.

  Chapter 12

  Rhiannon

  The wide-open space of Sterling’s home attracted my eyes. Deep lush dark woods combined with grey slate floors and glass windows created an open floor plan that was minimalist, yet cozy. Sterling’s new home would feel cold and hard if not for the art on the walls. I walked toward the fireplace.

  “Is that the Picasso?”

  “It is. Dad gave to Mom and she left it to me.”

  The urge to caress the master’s brushstrokes flew through me. My fingertips tingled. I kept my hands at my sides and turned away from the priceless piece of art. An air of defeat hovered around Sterling. Was it my unannounced presence in his home? What had I expected? I’d not called or texted or contacted him at all after our night together.

  “You seem … upset,” I said.

  “Ha!” Sterling said. He turned away from me and walked through the open living room to the kitchen. He took out two beers and opened both. “That is an understatement.” He handed me one of the beers and looked out through the windows toward the ocean. He placed one hand on his hip. “Dad just torpedoed my movie.”

  “The Lady’s Regret?”

  “That very one,” Sterling said. He tilted the beer to his lips. Irritation and anger were coming off him in waves. “Your dad and my dad are determined that the film never get made.”

  “I think there are a number of people who would be pleased if the film never got made.”

  Sterling turned to me, his eyes hot with anger. “Why is that?”

  “Because the script was born out of pain.”

  “And what about us, Rhiannon? Our relationship was born at the same time. Is that why you ran from me and continue to run from us? Is that why you can’t answer my questions?”

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

  “But you did.” His gaze held me still. I couldn’t leave because I didn’t want to leave. My insides were torn between my desire to be with Sterling and my fear at committing to him.

  “I have something to show you.” Sterling turned from the window and I wordlessly followed him up the open stairs to the second floor. We walked down the hallway and he opened a door.

  Air burst from my lips. This was Sterling’s bedroom.

  Confusion, desire, ache rushed through me as I gazed at his giant bed. A bed that caused fear and want to collide within me. He closed the door and my heart beat faster.

  I twirled around to face him. “Sterling, I—”

  My gaze darted from his face to just past where he stood. My giant painting of the view from the Malibu plateau hung on his bedroom wall.

  “Oh, my God, you did buy it.”

  “At your suggestion.” I walked closer to the painting and nearer to Sterling. “Does it make you happy that I look at your work when I wake up and then again before my day ends?”

  His words felt like a caress and were a bold intimation that I was always with him in his bedroom. Heat shimmered through me. Sterling stood so close to me. My want for him, like a living thing, wound around us both and made it impossible for me to move. My body was all betrayal, and the heat coiled through me and caused the familiar ache between my legs. Sterling stepped closer to me and his body skimmed mine. His breath stroked my skin. A breeze that further inflamed the fire within me.

>   “You are always with me,” Sterling said. His hand grasped the back of my neck. “Even when I’m alone.”

  He pulled me forward and his lips claimed mine. This kiss seared. Not a tentative kiss. No soft desire inhabited this kiss. This kiss was all heat and need. He pressed forward, his lips greedy upon mine, and my body surrendered. I pressed myself against him. His hard maleness reminded me of what I wanted, what I’d yet to have. His tongue pressed into my mouth. He gripped my bare shoulder and his other hand pulled the skirt of my dress up and over my head. My maxi dress fell to the floor.

  “Don’t you ever wear a bra?” His voice was rough with want and his hand grasped my breast. He bent his head and licked the edge of my nipple. Fire swept through me. Wet pooled between my legs. He pulled me deep into his mouth, the heat of his tongue rolling my nipple. My knees weakened and I threw my head back with pleasure.

  “Sterling, oh my God, Sterling.”

  In response to my words and the slow grinding of my hips against his hard sex, his hands slid down my belly and traced the lace of my panties. My hips hitched forward and pressed against him. His fingers slipped down the front of my panties.

  “You feel this, Rhiannon, you can’t ignore this. You can pretend that you don’t want us, but you can’t ignore your body.”

  His hand slid up my skin to my hip. He pulled my panties over my hips and they dropped to the floor. He turned my body so that my bare back faced him. He pushed my hair over my shoulder. His kiss on the back of my neck sent tendrils of heat cascading down my spine. His hands stroked the side of my body.

  “I remember your body. I remember your body in my dreams, as though we’ve been together every day since you ran away. Do you know how many women I’ve fucked to try and get that memory out of my mind?”

  I closed my eyes. His hands skimmed over my belly and his fingers teased the edge of my sex. His lips worked the back of my neck and his fingers slid to the edge of my cleft. My hips rocked forward and back for the pleasure his fingers and hard cock provided.

  “How many, Sterling?” I asked. “How many women have you been with to try and forget me?”

  “Hundreds,” Sterling said. His lips now moved down the vertebrae of my back. His hand slid over my bare ass. “What about you, my darling little Rhiannon, how many men have you been with since you left me?”

  A hint of anger clung to his words.

  “Not many,” I whispered out on heated breath. God, I wanted him. I wanted him to enter me, and take me.

  His hand reached around to my front and his fingertips pulled at my nipple while he kissed my back.

  “How many?” His tone was more insistent. One finger squeezed my nipple. I opened my eyes. We now stood beside his bed and on the far wall was a mirror. I caught his gaze in the reflection. He wanted to know, he needed to know. His hand slipped over my belly and he slipped one finger into the cleft of my sex. My breath shortened. His finger skimmed the top of my engorged clit. Heat exploded through me.

  He pulled his finger from me.

  “Please, don’t stop, please.”

  “Tell me,” he said.

  My pleasure was contingent upon my answer. My hips rolled back against him and ground against his cock.

  “None,” I said. Heat bloomed in my chest. I’d had lovers, but none that I’d allowed to fully take me. Not as Sterling had. No man had been inside my body since him.

  He gaze locked with mine in the mirror. Surprise spread across his face. Surprise and something that was reverence.

  “Rhiannon.”

  He turned me toward him. The heat was there still but something else, something deeper, something more sincere. “What do you mean? How is that possible? You’ve been in Europe for years.”

  “I’ve dated. I’ve even had lovers, I’ve simply never …” I couldn’t meet his eyes. Embarrassed by my choices, by what seemed to be my lack of experience. “I simply haven’t had sex with anyone else.”

  I’d wanted other men; physically my body had longed to be taken by others, but I refused. Each time I got close, each time I neared the moment of being with a man, it was Sterling’s face I saw. Sterling’s touch I craved. Instead of forcing my eyes closed and moving forward, I’d simply pulled away. For years. As I’d grown close to experiencing the most intimate of moments with another man I would pull away. For me, the physical pleasure of sex was forever linked to Sterling Legend.

  Sterling looked as if my words had slapped him. He stood frozen in front of me. Solid, like stone. It was as though he had no idea how to respond, what to say to my admission, to the knowledge that I’d taken no other lovers. In all the time, all the travel, all the men, I’d not allowed anyone else to enter my most intimate of spaces. And Sterling Legend was now realizing what that meant.

  Sterling

  What the fuck? My belly pitted and my throat was tight. What could I say? How could I say it? She’d been with no other man in seven years? She’d had lovers, but no man had fucked her in all that time? I released her. I grasped at my hair, confused by Rhiannon’s statement. I stepped back from Rhiannon and looked at her exquisite nakedness. My hands fell to my sides. The anger that I’d felt toward Dad and then directed at Rhiannon was extinguished. Anger at her being here, and anger at her refusal to give me the answers I needed vaporized. But what was her intention?

  But with her admission I needed to consider what was mine. Our teenage affair, our love, had meant as much to her as it had to me. And when it had ended I’d try to fuck away the memory of her, while she’d been unable to fuck at all.

  I bent to the floor and my fingertips brushed the soft linen of her dress. I turned it right side out. I stepped to Rhiannon and pulled the dress down over her head. Her beauty, God, her beauty still stunned me. The questions in her eyes made confusion burst through me. But what could I say to her? How could I explain? I couldn’t just fuck her now, out of anger, and loss, and simple desire and need. She was an exquisite porcelain creature that I cared for and she cared for me. I pressed my lips to the top of Rhiannon’s head and wrapped my arms around her. I drew her close. I had to think. I had to be still.

  “Sterling? Are you angry? I don’t understand.”

  “No,” I said. Reverence permeated through me. Desire combined with the knowledge that this woman was still my precious gift. A gift that I’d unwrapped much too soon, but a gift that was still mine. I pulled back and looked into her eyes. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you. I’ve spent my lifetime wanting you. But here, now, like this? This isn't how I want us to be together. I need us to be an us.”

  Her bottom lip trembled. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers, if only to stop the sadness and pain and confusion in her eyes.

  “Can I show you my Venice?” I asked. I pressed my forehead to hers.

  She nodded. It was a slow and tentative nod, but it was a yes.

  My phone rang and I pulled it from my pocket. “Cami” flashed across the screen. I took a long deep breath, knowing what was coming based on my phone conversation with Mike Fox.

  “Excuse me, I’m sorry,” I said. “I have to take this.”

  Rhiannon wrapped her arms around herself and nodded. She turned away from me and back to her mural. The giant piece of art that she’d created. The art that I liked to believe she had created just for me, for us. I pressed the on button.

  “Hey, Cami,” I said.

  “Sterling, you heard?”

  “Yeah, I heard,” I said. “Congratulations. It’s a big deal. You may be the first female director to ever be offered a project with that big a budget.”

  “Those assholes!” Cami said. “I’m not taking that fucking job! Are you kidding me? No fucking way. And Jennifer? She can kiss my ass,” Cami said. “In fact, she has kissed my ass and I might just leak that to TMZ because she is being such a damned starfucker!”

  “Whoa, wait? You’re not taking The Legend Kills gig?”

  “Hell, no,” Cami said.

  “Cami, as much as I
appreciate your loyalty, are you sure this is a good idea? The Legend Kills is a huge film, a part of a billion-dollar franchise. That film could cement your career. To turn your back on a Steve Legend film with a hundred million budget for a tiny indie that sports five million? I mean, no agent in town would advise that. No one in town would advise that.”

  “Fuck ’em,” Cami said. “I didn’t get into this business for the money. I got into it because I want to tell awesome stories with awesome people. Besides, in ten years will anybody remember who directed The Legend Kills? They will remember who won the Oscar for best director for a feature film called The Lady’s Regret.”

  “Cami Montgomery,” I said. “I like the way you think. You are awesome.”

  “Worldwide bailed right? On foreign distribution and financing?”

  “Yes,” I said. “We need a financier who will cash flow the whole thing.”

  “Already done,” Cami said. “I’m going to Montecito for dinner tomorrow. Mom already said she’d consider it, and with these strong-arm tactics from Worldwide, I’m sure she’ll say yes. We still have to find a lead. Jennifer is starry-eyed over working with your dad and that huge payday.”

  “Just wait until she finds him in her Starwagon with his dick out of his drawers.”

  “She won’t care,” Cami said. “Pussy or dick, she simply likes to screw. How do you think she got this far this fast?”

  Chapter 13

  Sterling

  After showing Rhiannon around Venice, I’d taken her home to Gayle’s ranch. Days later my body still ached for her. Was this an ache I’d experience for the rest of my life? I wanted Rhiannon with a fierce hunger and a need that eclipsed just the physical and went much deeper to the emotional core. I wanted her. I didn’t want her to return to Paris. I wanted her to travel with me and be mine.

  I ripped the car from Venice toward the Palisades and Amanda’s house. I wanted to sit down with Amanda and discuss The Lady’s Regret and how things were coming along getting the film into production. To be honest, my sit-down with my sister wasn’t all about work. She spoke to Rhiannon almost every day. They’d fallen back into their fast friendship. Perhaps my sister could give me some guidance on what to do and how to proceed.