Their chatter quieted down by the time she reached four.
At the count of six, Drew cleared his throat.
“Bambi, do you have it from here?” Drew didn’t make it to eight. Good boy.
She didn’t even flinch as she waited for her cue.
“Yes, I’ll finish up and get you the final schedule for the trip.” The little doe gathered up her items. “Let me go find that aspirin for you too.”
Inside her mind, Erin shook her head. It was a road trip not a wedding and the woman needed to take an acting class and learn to enunciate.
“Thank you.” Again, Drew cleared his throat.
By the time Bambi scampered out of the office, Erin had decided the laboratory had a truly ugly ceiling.
“Erin, you wanted something?”
She let Drew wait. After taking her time to inhale and exhale, she tilted her head at him. “If this morning is any indication, I can see why you haven’t been in a serious relationship all these years.”
“I’ve never been in a serious relationship.” He countered with a bit of venom lacing his voice.
Fine, she deserved that, but she needed to continue. “Then let me tell you that leaving before a woman gets up, after you spend the night making love to her, is considered poor form.”
“I didn’t know there were rules.”
At last, she looked at him. Though it always appeared as if he were a little disheveled in a cute, scientist sort of way, at the moment he looked like the Santa Ana wind attacked him and left him with yesterday’s razor stubble. And people said appearances didn’t matter. His told her everything she needed to know.
“Well, let me explain then.” She stood and let the coat drip off her as she made her way over to him. Pushing his papers aside, she sat right down on his desk. “Normally when a man wakes up he has quite an incredible erection, and the naked woman in his bed is usually preferred over his own hand to alleviate the situation.”
“Is that what you wanted?” He stared into her eyes.
“Of course that’s what I wanted. Maybe I would have settled for a kiss and some kind words, but I’m not known for settling.”
“Didn’t you get what you had been after last night?”
“What does that mean?” Her jaw clenched, but she remained still as to not show too much emotion.
He answered with a lift of his eyebrows.
She leaned forward. “I don’t need your pity screw.”
“It wasn’t me who gave the pity screw.”
She took a second to absorb his words and once sure she had them right, she needed to say them aloud. “You think I gave you a pity screw?”
“Call it what you will. Don't worry, I won't say a word, no one would believe we were together anyway." He glared at her.
His words slammed into her. "That was twenty years ago."
"We landed on the moon over forty years ago, but it doesn't make it less true."
Her eyes heated, tears wanted to fall. He would never let her forget. No matter what they wanted, those words would haunt her forever. "Can you explain if I am so repulsed by you why I would even bother with a pity screw?"
He shrugged. "Who knows with you? Part pity, part conquest, part trying to pay your way?"
“Are you calling me a whore?” She ground her teeth together. How did the most important and special night of her entire life turn into an argument about her being a prostitute?
“Erin.” He used the same condescending tone everyone did when they thought she didn’t understand something perfectly simple.
“Do I have to pay you since I came?” She slid off his desk, knocking some papers to the ground in the process. “I mean if it is a job, I shouldn’t have enjoyed it.”
“Did you?” He sat back.
“Did I what?” Without taking her eyes off him, she swooped up the papers.
He pursed his lips.
“Oh, I get it, since it was my pity, conquest, pay for my keep screw, I must have faked it. I mean I’m an actress, right?” She walked across the room to retrieve her items. “Is that what you think?”
“I’m not going to go through the motions so you can feel better Erin.”
"No, I agree. Apparently the words of an eighteen-year-old saying something stupid will drown out everything else." She crumpled his papers in her fist. "That same eighteen–year-old also has a scar on her hand from where she pounded on your car, begging for you to listen to me. Then, she was the twenty-two-year-old who lost a role because it was a comedy audition and she couldn't stop crying because it was your birthday. Forget the thirty-something-year-old who now has the reputation for being a lunatic because she’s always searching for the one person who was missing from her life."
Without any reaction, he simply sat there staring at her performance. She practically expected him to clap. Logan thought he was typecast. Apparently he never auditioned for Drew then he would have no doubt. Willing him to say anything, she went to pick up her coat, but first glanced at the papers. A quick scan told her everything else she needed to know, and she dropped the documents to the floor. They were garbage anyway.
“You know, I’ll give you one thing. Maybe you were a conquest. I waited for twenty years to be with you. I missed everything, I missed you earning your degree, I missed your success…” Once more, the tears threatened and she looked up. “I missed picking out the ceiling tiles in here.”
At last, he stood.
Refusing to cry real tears in front of him, she exhaled. “A conquest only means you won, it doesn’t mean you don’t want to keep what you fought so hard for. I only wish you told me I wasn't in the running.”
Refusing to hear anything he had to say, she clutched her purse to her chest and headed for the escape route. “Just so you know, I’m not that good of an actress. Maybe I was a bit over the top, but I was really turned on. You turned me on.” She opened the door, but before leaving, turned to him. “If you were the gentleman you always pretend to be, maybe this morning you could have found out for yourself if my orgasms were real or not.”
There would be no more relying on anyone else to save her. No one wanted her and no one cared. As always, she would rely on herself. She spun back around to find the drones standing there gawking, including little, sweet Bambi. Well, that was an unexpected conquest.
HOLLYWOOD STARBURST
FADE IN:
INT. INDIANAPOLIS– STEVEN’S FAMILY’S RESTAURANT IN THE BACK BOOTH - DAY
CHARLES
If Roxy comes back within the next two weeks, she can still graduate with summer school. Anything after that and she will have to repeat the year.
STEVEN
(sarcastic)
She can always drop out.
STEVEN glances around the restaurant, nods at one of the younger waitresses.
THE WAITRESS smiles and brushes his shoulder as she walks by.
WILLIAM pounds his fist into the table.
WILLIAM
What the hell are you doing?
STEVEN furrows his brow.
STEVEN
As if it’s any business of yours, I’m appreciating the scenery.
WILLIAM
What about Roxy?
STEVEN makes over exaggerated movements as he looks around.
STEVEN
Last time I checked she wasn’t here. What do you care what I do? I would think you would welcome me stepping back. Or is it that you admit defeat?
WILLIAM leans over the table.
WILLIAM
I just don’t want you messing with her. Maybe I care so much that I want her to be with the person she wants to be with no matter what, even if it isn’t me.
STEVEN
Maybe you want to pawn her off.
(Tilts head.)
Actually, why do you want her anyway? What makes her so special that you are even willing to let me win so she is happy?
WILLIAM sits back and takes a sip of a drink.
WILLIAM
I don’t
know. Something is missing from her and it needs to be filled.
STEVEN
(Teasing tone)
Did you discover that right about the time you got in touch with your inner feelings?
WILLIAM
Well, for someone admiring the view of others, word on the street says you haven’t been delving into the scenery lately. What’s your reason?
STEVEN turns away
WILLIAM balls up a straw wrapper and tosses it at Steven.
WILLIAM
Come on, let’s bare it all, get it out there. Did you just want another lay or is it something more?
STEVEN faces William once more.
STEVEN
I just know I want her.
STEVEN looks down and fiddles with the straw wrapper.
WILLIAM
That’s it?
STEVEN
Maybe there doesn’t need to be more.
WILLIAM
So that’s it?
STEVEN
Maybe there doesn’t have to be more.
Chapter Twelve
DREW STARED DOWN HIS FRONT door. Inside was his stuff, his dog, and his fish. Also, over the threshold, he would find the woman he would call his nemesis and his obsession. Most of the time he was convinced they were two different people trapped in one luscious body. And now the obsession was even stronger since he knew exactly what he missed out on for twenty years.
Plus, she said she was turned on, really turned on. In fact, she said he turned her on. He groaned. All day he worked, planned for his upcoming trip and did his research, but the only thing he thought about was she told him about what she missed, and the way she said he turned her on. The image of her getting stitches after their encounter at Brian’s office also haunted him.
With nowhere to go but inside, he lifted the box containing the various peace offerings he brought home and entered.
The aroma of spice and comfort greeted him, as did a bit of soft rock music playing lightly in the background. Only with Beaker’s appearance did Drew overcome the urge to step outside and double-check he was in the right home. He greeted his dog then forged ahead to what appeared to be the source of the smells and the sounds and in the kitchen got the sights.
Erin stood at the stove, her back to him, and he took his opportunity to study his surroundings. Several different pots were lined up on the burners, she already set the small breakfast nook table with dishes and candles, and the entire place was completely pin perfect neat.
“Good evening, Mr. Fulton.” She turned and smiled.
His breath caught. She changed from the plunging red dress with her slicked back hair into a sweet little black dress with her hair down soft and long. Either way, the woman was ravishing.
“Good evening. Something smells incredible.” He prayed it wasn't the broth she wanted to boil his body parts in after she eviscerated him.
“I made dinner.” One of her award-winning smiles graced her face. “I called Logan, and he walked me through a few things. I’ll have you know, he and Ivy are having the same meal.”
Well, at least she used her resources. He could tell she was trying, really trying, and he needed to make sure to do the same, be a gentleman, acknowledge her and make sure he noticed everything. With Erin, the details held the key. “You look lovely.” Lovely?
The word must have worked because she struck a bit of a pose. “I thought you could open the wine and sit down, everything is out on the table, and I was just finishing the gravy.” Like a good housewife, she spun back toward the stove.
Gravy. All he knew about gravy was it seemed difficult to make. Though he kept his eyes on her, watching for any sudden move, he put his box by his chair and did as she asked. He swore if the wine weren’t corked he would be checking it for poison.
After he poured the drink and took his seat, Erin joined him with the aforementioned gravy in a little pitcher.
“I made pot roast.” At her announcement she proceeded to lean over him and serve her meal.
Her breasts grazed his arm, her hair fell down, tickled his cheek, and the scent of her perfume melded with the food. By the time she put his plate together, including the grand finale of pouring the famous gravy over the meat, potatoes and vegetables, the last thing he was in the mood for was eating. Well, eating dinner.
“I thought we could talk,” he said.
She scooted her chair closer to his, put her elbow on the table and stared at him. “How about you take a bite first?”
He glanced over at her empty plate. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
“I made this for you. I'll eat later.” She pushed his plate toward him.
“All right.” He couldn’t ignore the cooking. She actually cooked, with pans and pots and ingredients and gravy. As fast as he could without appearing as if he were rushing, he scooped up a representative sample of the meat, potato and other root vegetables.
The flavor of home-cooked goodness traveled through his mouth. Something simmered and tended for hours while the tastes melded together. The tender meat complemented the rest of the ingredients, and he almost thought it was a shame to swallow, but if he didn’t he wouldn’t be able to take another bite. “Wow, Erin.”
“Do you like it?” With the back of her hand, she stroked his cheek.
“It’s delicious.” To prove his point, he took another bite and tried not to lean into her touch. The whole scenario pushed him into sensory overload.
“I’m glad. I always wanted to learn to cook. I had this vision about cooking for you the other day, so I wanted to live it out.” As she talked she continued to caress him, her fingertips traveling across his jaw, down his shoulder and back up again.
Shivers consumed him. “You’ve always had talent for anything you set your mind to.”
“That’s why I’ve always loved you.” Her voice came out more as a breath.
With his fork midair, he turned to her.
“I was really stupid. I am really stupid.”
“You’re not stupid, Erin. You were never stupid.” He repeated the same mantra he used to tell her on set when he would find her crying behind a set piece.
She took a sip of the wine. "I've always been weak. If I wasn't, I would have been with you. Maybe I wouldn't have spent all this time waiting for you, and maybe once I got you back I would have done more than just make sure we made love at least once."
"Erin."
“How was the rest of your day?” She straightened up and smiled.
Unsure if she really wanted to know or simply wanted to change the subject, he went with it and answered. “I did some research on some new fruits and vegetables they are growing at this experimental farm.”
“Wow, who knew they could make different fruits and vegetables?” Almost like she developed some sort of food radar she added a bit more gravy to his plate, but managed to keep her focus on him.
He nodded. “They make hybrids with certain properties. Maybe something would be good for Hollywood Glow. I’m going to take a road trip to visit a few accounts and then go to that farm. That’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about.”
A smile danced on her lips. “You’re going to do wonderful and Hollywood Glow is going to shine. I think I overstepped my boundaries enough in your work and personal life. When you have something for me to endorse, I’m only a phone call away.” Once more, she touched his cheek and then stood.
“Erin?” He pushed back from the table.
“I did a lot of thinking today. After I went by the lab, I came back here and gave into my inner need to be something more to you than a needy woman who doles out pity screws. No matter what, those words I said that horrible night will never go away.” She went to the sink and turned on the water. "Maybe some were true."
With his jaw clenched he went to her.
“Not the ones about no one believing we could ever be together, but when I told you I could never be the woman you wanted." She turned toward him. "I know Bambi is going on the trip.
I don't want a pity invitation. I know at one point you were with her, and she’s perfect for you."
"We are not together."
"Not now, but you should be." She shrugged. “So, I got to make love to you and I got to see you, and I even played house. I really thank you for giving me what I dreamed about, and though I wish it didn't end, I’m going to give you your home and your life back.”
“You’re going.” He turned off the water. “Where are you going?”
“It doesn't matter, I never tried to find anywhere else, I wanted to be here.” She wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “And you know I get what I want.”
Left without words, he stood looking at nothing, a hole forming in his chest. Again, she used him, got what she needed and was on to better pastures.
“I didn’t mean to make trouble for you. I don’t know Isaac Abrams. I only know Drew Fulton, and I really don’t know him all too well. I only have a memory.” In a rare case of her emotion getting the best of her, a tear fell down her cheek. A real tear, complete with pale skin and her nose and cheeks reddening, something she always hated because it betrayed her.
“Erin.” Damn everything, what was he doing?
“We both know me living here isn’t going to work. I’m going to leave before I’m asked to leave. You had to leave your own home in the middle of the night because you didn't want to see me this morning.” She threw the dishtowel across the counter and walked away.
Limelight (Hollywood Stardust) Page 14
