Her First Game

by Suzanne Hart

  She sat up, nodding, her lips pursed in thought. “I’m sure a lot of people did. How did you feel?”

  “Connected.”

  She nodded again. What she didn’t know is that it wasn’t the piece I felt connected to. It was David. The entire time I was in that hotel room, all I was aware of was him, gazing at me, egging me on, supporting me with his captivating presence.

  Soon, the session began and I went through the motions, breathing, stretching, pushing myself and thinking about David. I imagined him right in front of me, his eyes fixated on me, boring a hole right through my face, his stiff body pressed up against me. His lips, the smell of cigarettes, brushing across my face. I imagined placing a hand on his jaw, thought of the way his hands might look without the wedding ring, thought about his fingers on my body, in my body…

  By the time the yoga session was over, I was in desperate need of a cold shower. We rolled up our mats, put our donations in the box and headed outside. I glanced around the Valley street, my eyes squinting in the sunlight. I felt something vibrate in my pocket. “Oh shit.” I dropped everything. When you’re living in a hostel in Los Angeles trying to get a film, you drop everything when your phone rings. “Hello?” My voice sounded shaky and breathless.

  “Laila.”

  Oh my God. It was Clara Mason. “This is she.”

  “We would like to offer you the part.”

  My heart stopped. My stomach churned. Goosebumps littered my skin. The world spun around me as her words bounced around in my head. I could not believe what I was hearing. And yet, it all seemed right. Of course I got the part. I had done my best, and my best is amazing.

  “We will be sending you an official offer via email with all of the details including filming and audition schedules as well as the contract. Please read it carefully and get back to us within the week regarding the terms of the contract.”

  “Thank, you. Thank you.” It was unnecessary, but I had to put my energy somewhere.

  “We would also like to invite you to a cast party at my home tonight. Those details will be sent to you as well.”

  “Thank you so much!” This was so unreal. My mind struggled to wrap itself around the reality of what was happening.

  ***

  After thinking it over in my head, I had convinced myself that the cast party was something I had to participate in. I had to get my name out there and network, even if it was after hours and John was at home. I knew Dawn would take good care of him. I would get her back one day; for all of this.

  It was hard to get to Clara’s house because no buses went there. I had to take a chance on my bank account and use another uber, promising myself I would skip lunch the next day to make up for it and purposefully not thinking about the fact that I would also have to take one to get home, which meant another day of skipping lunch. But that wasn’t my problem anymore anyway. By the end of the week, I was about to sign a contract that would pay the bills at least for the next several months. And this contract would get me another and another and another.

  By the time the driver had turned on Clara’s street, I had worked myself into the kind of confidence that would ensure that I nailed this event.

  But as soon as her house came into view, with all of those flashy, luxury cars rolling in and out of view, a rock dropped in my stomach. What the fuck was I doing there? All these people knew each other, had probably been working together for a decade, belonged together. I stepped out of the car and straightened my dress. No one even noticed me. It was so haunting. Why was I even there?

  I adjusted my dress, but that only made me hyper-aware of the fact that it barely cost me forty bucks while I was walking amongst people who were wearing next year’s fashion. I got by the bouncer easily enough because my name was right there on the list, but as soon as I was inside, I was bombarded with noise. The foyer was massive, the voices bouncing off the walls, the perfect faces bathed in ambient, blue light. Three people came by with trays filled with glasses of champagne, but I couldn’t bring myself to grab one. The irony was not lost on me that in another world, I would be one of those people walking around, offering up alcohol to those luckier than me.

  After wandering through the sprawling first floor, feeling victimized that I didn’t at least get to bring a guest so I didn’t feel so inconsequential, I made my way to what looked like a guest bathroom. I waited outside for about five minutes, my head darting around. At this point, I couldn’t decide whether I would have rather been invisible, or the center of everyone’s attention. I felt like I should have been. I was the star of the whole fucking movie. And yet, somehow, that didn’t matter. I thought it would.

  Finally, I got my time in the bathroom. I shut the door behind me, reveling in the silence. I stared at myself in the mirror, relieved that my makeup hadn’t smudged. I stared at my body. I was beautiful and I knew it, even if this cheap, black dress wasn’t doing me any good. And anyway, what was I doing being a scared crybaby, wasting the opportunity of a lifetime? I needed to get the fuck out there and meet my new team… and network. This was not a time for babies. I shouldn’t need a possy to be effective.

  With that, I stepped out of the bathroom, feeling energized and renewed. I picked up the first champagne glass that came my way and chugged the contents down, grabbing another. The clouds that rolled in on my mind, softening the sharp, unforgiving thoughts that threatened to scare me out of the whole building, helped me relax even more.

  I was about to make another round on the first floor when I heard a voice behind me. I stopped in my tracks, knowing exactly who it was. “Well, well well if it isn’t my star.”

  I turned to find David staring right at me, his perfect body draped in a button down and dark sweater combination, dress pants and flashy dress shoes. He somehow made eyeglasses look chic. He held that champagne glass with so much comfort, he was probably born with it.

  In the next moment, he was standing right in front of me, the scent of his cologne, the only thing my nose could process.

  “How are you?” I felt myself smiling, warmed at the attention. All the memories of my time in his house drowning me; all the desire I had suppressed.

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On if I can get some time alone with you.”

  My eyes widened, ever so slightly, as I considered the proposition. I had heard the stories; oh so many stories. But it didn’t have to be like that with me. I wouldn’t let it be like that. Here he was, the man of my fantasies, asking to be alone with me. What kind of crazy person would I be if I didn’t just let it happen?

  “Well then, I think you’ll be glad to hear that you can.”

  He held his arm out for me.

  Even as I grabbed it, I could feel the nervous sweat dripping down my back.

  Chapter Three

  I signed the divorce papers on the first day of rehearsals for the film. I couldn’t think of anything but Laila; her thick, black hair, full lips, hips. My ears rang with the sound of her laughter. I squirmed with the thought of holding her. It was hard to think about anything else. It was with these desires swirling around in my head when I caught a whiff of her fiery, cinnamon scent as I entered the play pin on set.

  I turned to find her standing behind me, looking like a sexy milkmaid with her overalls. She had a tattered looking shoulder bag hanging on one arm and our hulking screenplay in the other. “Here to catch a glimpse of your old best friend?”

  She blinked, her mouth hanging slightly ajar, her skin turning red as if I had caught her doing something. She shook her head. “I’m actually here to pick up my son.”

  I couldn’t stop myself from ducking my head in surprise. “What?”

  She shrugged. “A lot has happened.”

  “Mr. Franke? Ms. Rhodes? They are just finishing up their afternoon activities. It’ll be another twenty minutes.”

  I hadn’t even noticed the receptionist in the small front office until then. “Sure,” I said without even
looking at her. “Let me buy you a coffee.”

  She stood there, frozen for long enough to make me question my decision. But then said, “Fine. I’m sure that’s allowed.”

  I chuckled at her sarcasm.

  ***

  “So, tell me more about yourself,” I said as soon as we were seated at my go-to spot down the street, cappuccinos in our hands.

  A warm smile stretched across her face. “Is this an interview?”

  I chuckled, the dark sound ringing through the air. “You can call it that.”

  She furrowed her brow. “But I thought I already had the job.”

  I let my fingers fall on hers. I couldn’t help myself. “You do.”

  She seemed guarded, but I could see the red-hot desire right behind her eyes. “So then what’s the interrogation.”

  “Well, if I’m going to work with you, I need to see everything inside of you.” I scanned her body, the curve at the nape of her neck, the bracelet on her delicate wrist, the mischievous look in her eye, driving me into a frenzy.

  “That’s a little invasive.”

  I took her hand. That was it, no turning back. “You wouldn’t want to have it any other way.” I knew I had her wrapped around my finger.

  “And what makes you so sure of that?” She tried to make a show of nonchalance.

  I rested my elbow on the table. “I’ve been doing this a long time.”

  She chuckled. “I’m aware.”

  I leaned back, folding my hands in my lap. “So, tell me who you are.”

  She sat up straight, her lips pursed with this funny sense of importance. “I started acting when I was twelve.”

  I glowered at her. Was this the best she could do after four years? “Tell me something I won’t find on your imdb.”

  She smiled then, as if she had just found out a secret about me.“My favorite color is purple.”

  I nodded slowly. “Dark, regal.”

  She bit those sexy lips. “I hate pizza.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Now you get to ask me something.”

  “Uhm.”

  “Don’t stutter.”

  She blinked. “What’s your favorite color?”

  I shook my head. “No repeats.”

  She let out a nervous giggle, “Okay?”

  I slid my chair closer to her.

  “What’s your favorite movie?”

  I raised my eyebrows. “In recent time, or ever?”

  “Only a director would say that.”

  I shrugged. “It’s a way of life.” How could we have never had conversations like this when she worked with us?

  “I like a guy who’s passionate.”

  “Do you?”

  She stroked her empty coffee with her fingertips, the seductive move making me wonder what her touch felt like. “Yes,”

  “What else do you like?”

  “Someone who can make decisions,”

  I nodded. “Mhmm.” “Someone who knows what they want. Someone I can learn from.”

  “Are you looking for a boyfriend or a mentor?” I was so close, all I had to do was reach out and take what I wanted. But I had to control myself, somehow.

  She kept a curiously straight face. “I’m not looking for anything at all.”

  Interesting. “So, you want to know my favorite movie.”

  “It seems like you really want to tell me.”

  I smiled. “Nosferatu.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Should I be scared?”

  “Of what?”

  “You.”

  I paused, then let out a dark chuckle. “Don’t worry. I can protect you from everything, even myself.”

  She leaned in closer to me. “Are you sure?”

  I nodded, but something occurred to me as I started to glance around. Anyone could be watching. The last thing I wanted was bad press.

  “We should go somewhere else.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “Is there anywhere else?”

  I winked at me and stood up, holding out my hand to her. “Come with me.”

  I led her out of the coffee shop and back onto the streets of the studio. We walked down the sidewalk for a few moments, both of us putting on a show of looking like we were about to go off to do something very professional. Then, I turned us off of the sidewalk and down a poorly trodden path. I had used this lot several times for projects. This was my place to think. I had no problems with sharing it with her.

  She stopped just as we hit the thick brush. “What’s down here?”

  I shrugged, pulling her on. “You tell me.”

  We stopped in a small clearing; the leaves shielding us from the afternoon sun.“Do you come here a lot?” she asked.

  I nodded, thinking about all the movies I had spent standing in this very spot, contemplating, escaping. “Of course.”

  She smiled. “Well, I can’t believe Clara picked me.”

  “She’s my favorite casting director.”

  She nodded. “I get that.”

  “It’s like she’s an extension of myself. She knows exactly what I want.”As I said this, the most glorious look of fiery jealousy darkened her face.

  I raised an eyebrow at this permission. “Oh, so you’re jealous?”

  “I don’t get jealous.” I loved the way she set her jaw at this.

  I chuckled taking a couple of deliberate steps towards her, putting her between myself and a massive tree trunk. “That’s what I needed to hear. And anyway, there’s nothing to worry about. She knew I wanted you didn’t she? She brought you right to me.” I gazed down at her, strangely enough, all of the memories of our time together when I was her employer slipping away. I couldn’t imagine her in my nursery with Ally as much as I could imagine her in my bed. My heart swelled at the thought of sharing a hundred more moments like this with her. It was the strangest thing: After years of searching and searching for that one person to fill me up, I was standing here, having just lost my wife, staring at the only woman I’ve wanted in the last ten years that I never had. Could she have been what I had been looking for all this time? “Was I everything you thought I’d be?”

  I placed a hand on her hip, just trying out the movement.

  I could feel her desire as I leaned into her, pressing her back against the tree trunk. Her breasts pressed against my chest, her eyes gazing up at me like I was the only man in the world.

  “I think you look gorgeous.” I watched her melt.

  I tightened my grip on her hip. My skin crawled with desire. I leaned my face down to hers. I couldn’t deny how badly I wanted this, how much I could not let this go. I knew what the proper thing was, but I didn’t want to be proper. My breath came out ragged as our lips finally touched. I felt her freeze, but then melt in my arms. I moved with her, our lips dancing together as I pressed my hips into hers. My heart beat faster and faster, pumping, boiling, hungry blood through my body. I clutched the back of her head, her hips.

  I pulled away.

  We were panting, lost in what had just happened.

  Chapter Four

  I gazed up at David, my heart still racing, my mouth tingling for more. I searched his eyes for indecision, regret even, but he looked just as determined as he had in the seconds before our kiss. “What was that?” I asked. It was stupid, I knew, but I couldn’t stop myself from being lost in the improbability of it all.

  He shrugged, his fingertips trailing my face. “Me getting what we both want.”

  “You don’t care how this ends for us, for me, do you?” I had walked right into the lion’s den. We both knew it, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to walk back out of it.

  His lips stretched into a smile I could not resist, a gleam in his eye. “You said you weren’t looking for anything.” He trailed his fingers down my neck to my shoulder. “This is nothing.”

  I opened my mouth to respond, to buy myself more time to think, but then he pressed his lips against my neck, the tonguey kiss sending electric pulses up
my spine.

  “I still have that room at the Beverly Hills.”

  My heart flickered with anxiety. “But what about John?” I hated myself for forgetting him, even at this moment.

  He blinked, then pulled out his phone. “I’ll have Jennifer pick him up with Ally.”

  “Who’s Jennifer?”

  “The nanny.”

  I blinked. “Where is this going?”

  “You tell me.”

  “We haven’t even started filming.” I couldn’t find my voice with the distraction of his lips all over my neck and chest.

  “And yet, I can’t keep my hands off of you.”

  I forced myself away from him, stepping back. “I have to use the bathroom.”

  He let out a dark chuckle, resting his arm on the trunk above my head “Is this your trick for running away?”

  I smirked. “How could I run away from you?”

  He smiled at this, “I’ll take you back to that cafe and wait outside. Let’s see if you were telling the truth.”

  Once we got back to the café, I tried my best not to literally scurry out of his sight. I made it down to the back of the dining room and down a long hallway. I shut the door behind me and blocked out the noise of all the other people outside, staring at myself in the mirror. My lipstick was smudged, so I took a tissue to smooth out the edges and reapplied another layer. My heart pounding in my chest. Could I really do this? On the first day of having my best job, turn around and fuck the director? I thought of all the stories that people would tell if this got out, all the conclusions they could draw. But then, I also thought of myself. Whatever happened, this was going to be memorable. One day, when I was famous and retired, I would be sitting in my antique, Beverly Hills home, discussing this very night with my teenage granddaughter. I was going to be extraordinary, and this was just the beginning.

  I nodded at myself in the mirror, as if to confirm this, then went out to meet David outside.

  ***

  There was that familiar beeping sound as David slipped the key into the slip, followed by a click as the door opened. I followed him inside, taking in the legendary room. It was bare now, the bed fully dressed, the sheets looking as if they were ironed, the floors with vacuum lines on them, every surface gleaming in the low light. I put my small purse on the grandfather chair.