by Emma Quinn
“I don't know,” he said. “I like them all. They're all cool. Like t-rex's are awesome because they can, like, kill everything. But stegosauruses are awesome too because they've got spiky stuff on their back.”
He picked up his dinosaurs one by one and looked at them intently as though he was studying the merits of each one.
“Which is your favorite?” he asked.
“Oh, that's easy. The pterodactyl.”
“Really? Why?”
“Because they can fly,” I reasoned. “That's pretty cool, right?”
“I suppose so.”
“I think my favorite is the brontosaurus!” yelled Sebastian from across the room. “Because they eat leaves and my favorite food is spinach.”
“Eeeew! Spinach is gross,” replied Luca, wrinkling up his face.
The kid was sure able to pull the funniest faces. I'd noticed the first time I'd met him that he was strangely expressive for a kid so young. He'd be a good actor, I thought. The boy's naturally dramatic and confident.
Looking down at the coffee table, I saw a pile of his drawings scattered beneath some crayons. I picked one up and looked at the carefully drawn lines.
“This is really good,” I told him. “You're such a talented little artist for a six year old.”
“I'm not six!” Lucas yelled back. “I'm seven!”
“You are? I swear your mom said you were-”
“Swear his mom said what?” Sophia said as she exited the bedroom.
We all looked up to see her framed by the doorway. Dressed in a yellow sundress that barely grazed her knees and wedged heels that emphasized the curve of her calves, she looked like a ray of sunshine beaming through the apartment.
I felt the words dry up in my mouth as I looked up to her face. With minimal makeup and her hair smoothed down perfectly around her high cheekbones, she looked naturally sophisticated. Like an off-duty princess on her way to a secret lunch date.
“Wow,” I said, before I could stop myself. “You look great!”
“Thanks... I just threw on any old thing.”
Looking down at Luca, I saw he was watching us intently.
He's a smart kid, I thought. He knows more than he's letting on.
The party was in full swing, and what started as a picnic had turned into casual drinks then complicated cocktails the drunker Jules got.
As soon as he got a few Martinis in him he suddenly thought of himself as a superstar mixologist. He was over at the makeshift bar now with a few of the studio chiefs shaking a cocktail maker like a maraca.
“And this is what I call a motherfucking slippery nipple.”
“Darling there are children around,” Helena said in his ear.
I could tell she was sick of him and was dying to get home. But it didn't look as though his antics were coming to an end any time soon.
And the kids definitely didn't look as though they were going to calm down. They were still running rampant up and down the beach with a football with little Luca leading his rag tag team.
“He's a great ball player,” I said to Sophia.
She had a slice of watermelon in her hands and was nibbling delicately along the top.
“Yeah, he's great at everything he turns his hand to,” she said.
“I suppose his dad must be the sporty type,” I thought out loud as I watched him run.
“He used to be,” she replied. “Not anymore, though.”
“So you're still in touch with him?”
“Not really. I mean... Kinda. It's complicated,” she said, her voice straining as she spoke about him. “Anyway,” she continued, clearing her throat. “I don't wanna talk about him. He left and... Well, that was the end of that. Another drink?”
“Sure. What you having?”
“I was thinking of having one of Jules' slippery nipples. He's been talking about them for forty five minutes now,” she laughed, biting down into her watermelon.
A jet of pink juice squirted out as her teeth sank into the fruity flesh and landed on her cleavage. My mouth fell open as I watched it run down between her breasts.
“Ah, shit,” she exclaimed, grabbing a napkin off the table to wipe herself off. “I'm so clumsy.”
Looking up, she saw the expression on my face and she blushed, but not before a tiny smile twitched at the corners of her mouth.
“I better go get that drink,” she said and shimmied away.
Did she just... Did she just do that on purpose? That was the hottest thing I've ever seen in my whole life!
Beneath my pants, I could feel the threat of an erection stirring.
I watched as she approached the bar and got Jules to drunkenly pour her two drinks. She chatted easily with everyone around her, and I could tell they were all charmed by her presence.
One of the studio chiefs, Ronald, one of the big wigs was sidling up to her. He was the kind of man who had been to every country you could think of. Who had dated dozens of movie stars and was even rumored to have bedded a royal. But even he was taken in my her, hanging off her every word as he stared at her doe eyed like he'd never seen a woman before.
I found myself feeling strangely jealous as I watched her attract all the male attention. Then I reined myself in as she picked up her drinks and returned to me.
“Wow,” she said, handing me my drink. “Those guys could talk the ear off a Leprechaun. They wouldn't shut up.”
“Maybe we could go somewhere a little quieter,” I suggested, nodding my head toward a nearby abandoned sand dune.
“Sounds like a good idea.”
Slipping off her heels, she dangled them from her delicate fingers as she climbed the dune. At the top, the wind caught her hair, and with the golden sky darkening behind her, she looked as though she was in a perfume commercial.
“So how have you been enjoying your time in Hollywood?” I asked her as I sipped my drink. “Urgh... What did Jules put in this? Diesel? My eyes are literally watering.”
She winced as she sank her lip into her drink and grimaced.
“Aw, Christ. This is vile,” she laughed, tossing her drink into the sand. “Anyway, my time in Hollywood has been... interesting.”
“In a good way I hope?”
“Yeah, you could say that. At least Luca is loving it here. He's already saying he prefers his school here.”
“So you'll settle here?”
“No... I don't think so.”
“Ah, you thought about it for a second there. Didn't you?”
“You got me. I did,” she smiled. “But I dunno. I don't think I could live with all the drama and the tantrums.”
“I get ya. I feel that way too sometimes. Living in LA's like living in an asylum sometimes.”
Relaxing back against the sand, she rested back on her elbows and looked up at the sky. The sun kissed her dewy cheeks and danced in the glossy strands of her hair. I felt as though I was in the presence of a goddess.
I had the strongest urge to roll over and lay a hand across her waist. To pull her close to me and hug her tight. As the wind whispered through her hair, it whipped the gossamer strands up around her neck.
What I would do to kiss that neck. To feel its softness against my lips again.
I had kissed it so many times and felt tiny goosebumps rise along her spine.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she said.
“I'm not looking at you like anything.”
She flung her head back and laughed. I could tell the drinks over the last few hours had loosened up her tongue and let her guard down.
“You're looking at me all sad like you're remembering our past. Like you're reliving all the times we had together.”
“Shit. You could really tell all that?” I said, slightly embarrassed. “Anyway, I can't stop myself. Aren't you thinking about all those times too?”
“No!” she replied with a touch too much force.
“Me think the lady doth protest too much.”
“Shut up,” she laughe
d and picked up a handful of sand which she hurled right at me.
“Hey! You got sand in my drink.”
“It'll probably taste better now.”
“That might be true, but you've got sand in my hair too!”
“Christ, you're so vain these days. I mean you were always worried about your looks but you're unbelievable now. Hollywood's turned you into such a prissy boy.”
She pushed me playfully and I pushed her back.
“Hey!”
Out the corner of my eye, something caught my attention. A piece of green nestled among the brown. It was a long, slimy length of seaweed, and it looked like the perfect thing to get my own back for her ruining my hair.
Grabbing it, I tossed it at her and it landed across her chest, the tip of the slimiest part falling inside her cleavage.
I didn't know it was possible for a woman to scream so loud. Not outside of the bedroom anyway. She jumped up shrieking, running around in circles as she pulled pieces of seaweed out from her dress.
“You bastard, Ethan!”
She picked up a piece of seaweed between her fingers and threw it at me. It landed square in the middle of my head with a wed, squishy thud.
“My hair!” I yelled, jumping up to throw it back at her.
She squealed and ran away. I chased after her, but she was faster than I'd anticipated. She took off at lightning speed, her dainty feet kicking up sand into little clouds as she ran.
“I'm gonna get you back!” I yelled.
“You have to catch me first!”
She circled around me, then quickly turned on her heel and ran counter clockwise around me so I was all turned around.
“Jesus, you should be a football player!”
“Get her, Ethan!” yelled a drunken Jules with a drink in his hand sloshing all over the place.
But she was slippery like an eel and whenever I got close, she was out of my grasp again. She laughed as the wind blew in her hair, amused that I couldn't get close.
Then the moment her confidence reached its peak, and she was sure I'd never get my hands on her, her foot caught in a wet patch on the sand and she stumbled.
In those precious few seconds where she lost her balance, I took my chance and lunged at her. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I scooped her up and started running toward the water.
“Wait, what are you doing!”
“You messed up my hair so I'm messing up yours!”
“Noooo!!!!!”
I took one step into the water, then another, then dropped her into the warm, foamy waves. She landed among the seaweed screaming, but she was laughing too.
Behind us, I could hear the sound of Luca laughing. I turned round to see him chuckling so hard there were tears in his eyes.
“Good one, Ethan!” he laughed and ran up to give me a high five.
Sophia dragged herself out the water. She was trying to look angry, an impossible task considering how gorgeous she looked. As she stepped onto the sand, her hair dripping over her toes, I saw how her dress had gone slightly see through. Not enough to see too much, but enough to catch a hint of pink skin through the fabric.
“I'm getting you back for this,” she fumed.
“Aw, Mom chill,” chortled Luca. “It's not the end of the world.”
But the look on her face told me she was planning the Apocalypse.
19
Sophia
I
looked around the packed room and thought there had to be at least five hundred people crammed into the rows of seats. Most of them being reporters, obviously. But despite the amount of bodies in the room, it was so quiet all I could hear was the sound of Ethan tapping his pen nervously against his teeth.
No matter how much I tried to reassure him, he was a nervous wreck.
“What if Vincent cleans me out?” he asked.
“He won't,” I promised him. “He hasn't got any proof you did anything. He won't get anything from you.”
He'd put on a brave face as we arrived at court, and replied to all the reporters' questions with the snappy witticisms that were expected of him. But I could see how nervous he was by the way he picked at his fingernails as we took a seat in front of the judge. And how he kept glancing over at Vincent as though if he stared at him long enough he could make him catch fire.
“I hate him,” he hissed beside me as he finally put his pen down. “I can't believe it came to this. He dragged my fucking name through mud. Made out I was a thief.”
“He's the one that looks stupid,” I assured him. “He's always bringing people to court and he's always losing. For him, as a has been, this is the only publicity he gets.”
“That's sad...”
We both looked over at him. I'd remembered him as a devastatingly handsome actor when I was kid. But now he looked like a haggard shadow of himself. There was no trace of the muscles he used to be so proud of or the smooth tan. And his signature jet black hair that had made him look so mysterious had grown sparse and gray.
In the moment, I actually felt sorry for him.
“Okay, I believe we have a verdict,” said the judge at last as he addressed the jury. “Please, rise.”
We all looked toward the jury where the presiding juror stood at the end of the bench.
“We find the defendant, Mr Ethan McBrayne...”
Beside me, Ethan tensed, and I instinctively reached out a hand to comfort him, like I would any client. His fingers closed around mine and he squeezed hard.
“It'll be okay,” I whispered to him. “Look at him... He knows he lost.”
We turned back to the juror who looked as though they were enjoying their moment of fame. Pausing for effect, they held their breath for an excruciatingly long minute then exhaled.
“Not guilty...” came his verdict.
I could feel the tension melt out of Ethan as he flopped back in his seat.
“Thank God!” he said. “And thank you, Sophia. You're the best.”
“Yeah you really made him look like a dick up there on the stand,” said Jules from behind me as he slapped me on the back.
“Just doing my job,” I told them both.
From across the court room, we could hear Vincent yelling at his own lawyers as he threw his case files across the table.
“What do I pay you fucking hacks for!”
“Enough!” shouted the judge as he banged his gavel. “Another word from you Mr. Roberts and I'll find you in contempt.”
Vincent shut up immediately and bowed down like a dog with its tail between his legs.
“Look at his face,” grinned Ethan. “He's a loser and he knows it. Such a shame, man. He used to be such a star.”
I looked back at Vincent who was now slumped over, drained from all the effort of another trial. And it was then that I realized I still felt the warmth of Ethan's hand in mine.
Gazing down, I saw his fingers still clenched around my own. Looking up, his eyes met mine, but he didn't pull away.
“Thank you so much, Sophia. I really mean it. You saved me today.”
Outside the court, we were pushed at speed through the crowds of reporters until we reached the waiting blacked out SUV. It felt as though we were being jostled on all sides as people yelled and shoved cameras in our faces.
“Ethan! Are you relieved to be found not guilty of copyright infringement?”
“Ethan has this put you off writing your own movies? Or will there be others?”
“Ethan.”
“Ethan?”
“Ethan!”
He jumped into the back of the SUV, pulling me in beside him. Jules was fast behind us, collapsing onto the seat beside me and slamming the door shut.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” groaned Ethan. “I hate reporters. They're fucking vultures. The lot of them.”
“Well they can report on this,” said Jules, gliding the window down and sticking up his middle finger as we drove away.
Ethan shook his head at him and said, “You're actually a
child.”
But Jules was ignoring us and enjoying the sensation he was causing outside.
“I swear he's like a ten year old sometimes,” said Ethan in my ear. “At least I had one grown up there with me today. You smashed it up there. It's like the court was your stage.”
“Are you inspired? Maybe your next movie could be a court room drama.”
“You know, that might not be such a bad idea,” he said, scratching his chin as the thought. “And do you know what else isn't a bad idea? Going out to celebrate.”
“That would be great. Jules can help us book a place and-”
“Actually I was thinking maybe just the two of us could celebrate...”
“Oh...”
I looked down at my lap. What was I to say? Part of me wanted to jump at the chance, but the other half of me was telling to leave him well alone.
The trial is over. You won and your job is done. It's time to get back to New York and forget all about Ethan.
But against my better judgment, I found myself saying, “That would be nice.”
“Awesome. Dinner tonight?”
“Pick me up at eight.”
20
Ethan
M
y heart beat a little faster as Sophia wiggled her fingers at me as she climbed out the car outside her apartment.
“See you later,” she smiled before walking up the path toward the main entrance to her building.
There was something so sensual and strong about the way she walked. The steady rhythm of her hips casting a hypnotic spell over me.
“Well, look at you,” laughed Jules. “By the look on your face I'd say you were in love.”
“I'm just happy the trial's over,” I said.
“And happy you've got a date tonight.”
I hadn't realized he'd even heard us.
“Yeah... I'm happy about that too. But it's not a date it's just a...”
What was it exactly? Was it just a friendly dinner? Just a celebration or was it more than that? I guessed only time would tell.
“It's just dinner and a few drinks,” I said to Jules. “That's all.”
