by Zoe Wildau
“We can make that happen,” he said. “I spoke with Phillip today about getting you some help on the set.”
Lilly squelched her instinct to protest. As much as she hated to admit it, the job was too much for just her. It was only going to get worse when they headed to Italy, where extreme preparation was going to be essential for success.
“I don’t know what to say,” she said, truthfully.
“Don’t say anything. I should have realized how much pressure you were under. I’m sorry it took me so long.”
“It hasn’t been that bad,” she lied.
“Can I pick you up for the airport in the morning?” Jake asked.
Their flight was at six-thirty a.m. The airport was close, but he’d still have to be there awfully early.
“It’s really early,” she said.
Jake looked around Mike’s small efficiency apartment, his eyes stopping on the bed in the corner.
“You could get your things now, and come stay with me. It would be easier.” Turning back to her, his expression was unreadable.
When she didn’t immediately respond, he said, “You’d have your own bedroom.”
If she went with Jake, not only would she not have to worry about depending on Mike to get her to her early flight on time, she could avoid any uncomfortableness alone with Mike later. His parting comment this afternoon had her worried he might make another pass at her tonight.
“Alright,” she finally said. “Let me just leave Mike a note.”
Feeling like she might be jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire, she hobbled to the Explorer.
True to his word, though, she had her own bedroom. Her own floor, actually. Jake was staying at Harrison Ford’s ski chalet. Jake helped her upstairs to her room, brought her a couple of bottles of water and then disappeared.
She was glad for the water. The pills the urgent care nurse gave her had left her feeling muddy and hung over. Although it was still light outside, she laid down on the bed and fell asleep.
She heard him overhead, over her father’s field, above thunderclouds so black she couldn’t see him. The sound of his slowly beating wings as he hovered, just out of sight, was like that of a helicopter recorded and then slowed way down. As the thunderclouds began to swirl in a whirlpool of wind signaling his descent, Lilly ran across the barnyard to the house. She leaped over the first three porch steps, tripping over the last. Her legs felt like they were dipped in molasses, sluggish, not doing anything she wanted them to do. Digging her nails into the splintered floorboards of the porch, she tried pulling herself forward. She refused to look back when she felt the ground shake with his landing, scrabbled forward and reached for the doorknob. It was too far. But then the door opened and there in the doorway stood eight year old Lilly, so tiny she looked like a toddler, peering beyond her into the barnyard. Little Lilly’s mouth fell open in terror that she could not voice, pointing to the barn. Lilly couldn’t help herself. She turned to look at the nightmare she knew was behind her. Dragon Jake crouched, twenty feet from the barn, whipping his tail like a lion stalking water buffalo. A man stood in the shadows of the barn, too far and too dark to make out. It could have been her father, but she was uncertain. The beast had seen the man. He rose to his full height, leaned back on his haunches, shot his head and neck forward and an incendiary fountain of flame engulfed the weathered wood structure. The man never had a chance as the wood and hay caught fire instantly, and flames roared toward the heavens. When Dragon Jake turned his fiery maw toward the house, both Lillies screamed. Little Lilly stepped on to the porch and reached for her, but when the shadow fell over the porch it was too much for her. She backed to the doorway, whirled and ran into the house, banging the door shut behind her. It won’t help, it won’t help, big Lilly thought, as the door rattled in the jam, its peeling paint already beginning to bubble, melt and run.
Lilly sat straight up in bed, completely disoriented. Someone was knocking on a door, rattling the knob.
“Lilly! What’s going on? Open the door!” It was Jake. She was in Wyoming. She was hurt. Her ankle was hurt.
“I’m coming, hold on. It’s dark in here,” she said as she scooted to the end of the bed and limped to where she thought the door must be, judging by his voice.
By chance, she placed her hand on the light switch, flipped it on and unlocked the door.
Jake pushed it open, looking her over quickly, then around the entire room.
“You okay?” She clearly was physically okay, apart from the ankle. Abashed, he said, “I thought I heard you calling out. I wouldn’t have bothered you otherwise. I’m sorry if I woke you.”
“No, no. It’s okay. You did, but I’m glad you did,” she said, then bit her lip, not wanting to admit her nightmare. “What time is it?”
“It’s a little after three in the morning,” he said. “You’ve got plenty of time. Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you in time.”
“I’ve been sleeping for nine hours. I might as well go ahead and get ready to leave for the airport.”
“We don’t have to be there until six-fifteen,” he said.
“We need to be there before that, Jake. The plane leaves at six-thirty. We need to be there at least by five to get through security.”
“We’re flying back on the studio’s jet. We won’t have to go through general security,” he said.
Lilly’s stomach lurched. She’d planned on being able to sit quietly back in coach, knowing Jake would fly first class. She needed a mental break from him. She needed to prepare for the next day. In coach, she wouldn’t have to struggle to make small talk for three hours.
“I already have a ticket, and your company paid for it. It was non-refundable.” She searched for more excuses not to give up her peaceful commercial airline seat.
“At this point, it doesn’t cost anything more for you to fly back with me on the studio jet. And it’s faster and more comfortable. You can stretch out your ankle.”
When she still didn’t seem enthused by the idea, he added, “Don’t worry about the ticket. It was transferrable. Wil’s using it.”
He clearly saw nothing wrong with what he’d done. It was like the camping trip all over again. Who did he think he was, changing her flight without telling her, making Wil forego the comfy jet?
At her narrow-eyed expression, he asked, “Are you sure you’re okay? Were you having a nightmare when I came up here?”
“No,” she said, tight-lipped, wishing she hadn’t told him about the nightmares.
“I’m going to get in the shower, so you need to leave.”
Jake immediately shut down his concerned expression and walked out of the room. At least he didn’t have to be told twice.
Down the hall, he said in a neutral tone, “Be careful not to fall in the bathroom on that ankle, and call if you need help.”
“I won’t,” she grumbled, not caring if he heard.
The entire cabin on the blasted jet was empty. There were over twenty seats from which to choose, arranged in face-to-face foursomes. Jake sat opposite her and gently lifted her ankle to rest, elevated on a pillow on the seat next to him.
When the jet reached cruising altitude, the flight attendant offered them tea and coffee and a selection of juices, fruits and pastries. Lilly accepted the tea and a cheese danish. Jake skipped the breakfast goodies, opting for water and the Wall Street Journal.
After the attendant cleared away her tray, Jake lowered the newspaper to look at her.
“You want to tell me why you are so mad at me? You’ve got about two hours,” he said.
For an hour and a half, Lilly just looked out the window. She meant to tell him exactly why she was so mad at him. After she marshaled her thoughts.
He was just so high-handed. She felt like she was in a constant tug of war. She didn’t like him taking care of things for her. Organizing her life how it suited him.
Her father had done that. Refusing to let her get a job in town, making her a slave to t
he farm. He didn’t think there was anything wrong with it either.
Maybe Jake thought he was helping her. But it felt a lot like he just wanted to keep her under his thumb.
She knew some women, and men, liked that kind of dependency on another person. She was not one of them. What do they do when the person they depend on is gone? How do you pick up the pieces after that? She couldn’t help thinking about her father again. He was okay now. Content, even. But there had been some dark years after her mother’s death.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the pilot’s announcement that they would be beginning the descent into Los Angeles. She still had not uttered a word in response to Jake’s question. She turned to find Jake staring at her. Maybe he had been the whole time.
Not taking his eyes off her, Jake got up and moved to the seat next to her. Ever so slowly he took her chin in his hand and raised her face to look at him. He searched her face for such a long time that she started to think he was going to kiss her like he had in the tent. Her cheeks started to flame red, and she found her gaze shifting to his mouth.
Letting out an exasperated puff of breath, she pulled her chin out of his fingers and looked away back out the window.
“You’re not the boss of me,” she said to the clouds, echoing her niece Anna’s belligerent bedtime refrain. She said nothing more until they landed.
When they deplaned, Jake pulled her backpack out of the closet in the front of the plane but made no move to hand it to her. They walked through the terminal. Before they reached the exit, Jake turned toward an area where several drivers stood with signs to collect their privileged clients. Jake started toward a woman holding a “Thornhill” sign – one of several aliases he used while travelling. Wil, having taken Lilly’s flight, wouldn’t be arriving for another hour.
Lilly grasped the shoulder strap of her pack and gave a gentle yank.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, giving another meaningful pull on the backpack.
“Come on, Lilly, at least let me take you home.” People—fans—were starting to gather, some holding up cell phones to snap pictures.
“I’m not going home, Jake. Please let go,” she said, pulling the pack. Jake let go, and she saw the shutter come down on his face.
“Tomorrow, then,” he said, by way of goodbye, and turned toward his driver. Lilly headed out to the taxi stand.
Chapter 16
Lilly went straight to the Lab to check that all of her equipment had been unloaded from the Wyoming bus. It took her four hours to sort through everything and remix the compound for the next few days’ studio shoots.
When she got home, she had just drawn a bath when her cell phone rang. It was Phillip.
“Good evening, Lilly,” he said, “How are you feeling?
Lilly started to answer with the usual platitudes, until Phillip said, “I understand there was a mishap in the mountains.” Of course, he had talked to Jake.
Not exactly sure which “mishap” he was referring to, she said, vaguely, “You could say that.”
“Is there anything I should know? Jake seemed to have his knickers in a bit of twist.” Jake with his knickers in a twist must not have told Phillip much about the trip. That at least was a relief.
“I take it that it wasn’t the relaxing break you planned?” said Phillip, fishing for details.
Going for light-hearted, she said, “Oh, I don’t know. If you call almost being eaten by a bear relaxing, I think it was just fine.”
“WHAT?!”
Recounting the story for Phillip, she didn’t need to embellish for Jake to come off as a mountain man hero. By the end of the story, Phillip was threatening to write a press release.
“Please don’t. It’d have the rangers out shooting bears,” she said.
“Okay, no press release, but I won’t promise to keep silent about it. That’s epic material. Carl will be happy to know there’s more to the story than a sprained ankle to justify the studio’s jet. I knew something serious must have happened when Jake called for it. I did not realize it would be quite so dramatic.”
Jake had called the jet for her? For a sprained ankle? She’d assumed that had already been arranged for him. She thought about all the leg room in the private jet. How Jake had put her ankle up on the seat next to him.
In her cramped coach seat on the long commercial flight, she would not have been able to stretch her ankle, much less elevate it. It probably would have swelled horribly. She thought miserably of how ungrateful and rude she’d been.
Swallowing a lump in her throat, she registered that Phillip was still speaking.
“… she’s top notch. She just came off James’ project, where she was extremely well regarded for her visual effects work. I’ll tell her to start this week. Unless you would like to meet her first?”
“I’m sorry, Phillip, who are we talking about?” she asked, trying to catch up.
“Clara Gentry. Your new assistant.”
“Phillip, I trust your judgment, and I could use any help I can get, good or bad. If she’s good, that will just be icing on the cake.”
“That’s settled, then. I don’t think she can start tomorrow, but maybe the day after tomorrow. What time and where?”
“Tell her to come to studio G at four-thirty a.m. I’ll have her sit through the first few days so she gets the concepts. Has she signed the confidentiality agreement?”
When Phillip said yes, she told him to send her Clara Gentry’s contact information, including her email, so that she could send her the story outline.
She’d barely hung up from Phillip when Mike called.
“You make it back okay, Tiny?” he asked.
Shoot, she should have at least texted. “Yes,” she assured him. “Sorry about the drama.”
“Yeah, well, it’s what you do.”
She wasn’t sure if that was supposed to refer to her work or her personal life. She had to admit that around Mike, things did seem to get weird. In college, one of his female friends, who’d had a long unrequited crush on Mike, took Lilly and Mike’s close relationship as a threat, and after a night of drinking, showed up at Mike and Lionel’s apartment half singing, half screaming invectives about her. Her tirade had given rise to Mike’s pet name for her, Tiny Hiney.
After signing off with Mike, Lilly reran her bath, which had gone cold, and sighed as she sank in, careful not to knock her ankle. She thought about how to approach Jake in the morning.
She would not be able to dictate his behavior, which would largely influence her own, but she decided to try to adopt a casual attitude and see if she couldn’t start their relationship in a different direction. Right after she thanked him and apologized for being so rude about the jet, that is.
She wished Kyle was home. He’d taken to spending most nights with Marco, his new boyfriend. Lilly turned on the news to try to distract her thoughts from Jake, then switched to a new ebook and finally gave up when the steamy scenes between the protagonist and heroine only brought to mind how it had felt to press herself against Jake in the tent, how his mouth tasted, how smooth and hard he was as she stroked his now all too familiar body.
Tucking herself into bed and closing her eyes, she was immediately assaulted with images of Jake in the moonlit tent. She felt the same burning desire. She flipped over and pounded her pillow. Madcap, who’d hopped up preparing to settle in for the night, jumped with a hiss and abandoned her, heading for the studio chair.
Counting her breaths, in and out, she finally drifted into sleep at number five hundred and twenty-two.
She awoke feeling blissful, warm and comfortable in a huge bed. The comforter was so downy soft, she felt like she had been sleeping on a cloud. A soft white light filled the room, filtered by filmy white sheers that hung everywhere. Everything was soft and white, but not bright. Warm. She stretched and an exquisite white silk nightgown slipped and slid around her waist, assisted by warm gentle hands under the comforter that pushed the silk higher, over her waist
, over her stomach, over her breasts. Pushing down the comforter, she smiled down at his dark head as he moved over her, brushing his lips against her skin. He moved so slowly. Dreamy slow. Not scary, but oh, so wicked. His lips lingered on her breasts, taking in first one, then the other nipple in an open-mouthed kiss, swirling his tongue and sucking each rosy bud. Lilly arched into him, and wrapped her legs around his back. When he slid higher, she opened her mouth for a slow burning, swirling kiss. As he slid his tongue into her mouth, she pushed her hips up to meet his hot, rigid erection. Please, yes, oh, please, she whimpered, as he slid ever so slowly inside her.
Panting with pleasure, on the verge of an orgasm, Lilly woke. No, no, no, no. That is so unfair! She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will herself back into the dream, but it was gone.
When the alarm went off at three, Lilly had barely slept. Every time she’d closed her eyes, her thoughts had gone in wildly suggestive directions, imagining every possible ending to the sexy white dream.
Looking at her exhausted face in the bathroom mirror, she dug out some concealer and tried to cover up the dark circles under her eyes. She rarely wore more than a few swashes of mascara, blush and pink lip-gloss. The concealer washed her out, so she decided to add eyeliner. The effect made her already too large eyes stand out like an anime character. Oh well, too late to change it.
Binding her ankle tightly in the Ace, she opted to bike to the set. She had to get over the residual effects of the sex dream, or her day with Jake was going to be extremely uncomfortable. At just the thought of touching him, her heart would race and her hands would start shaking. She hoped the exercise would calm her nerves and get her mind to stop reeling with all the possible permutations of naked Jake. Taking deep breaths helped, but also made her lightheaded and dangerous on the bike. Get a grip, Rose! She chanted in time to the pedals all the way to Warner.
By the time she reached the Lab, she was calmer and focused. The applications she’d set the afternoon before looked perfect, and she was pleased that she had gone straight to work, particularly since she had been useless and distracted once at home. Lilly was just laying out the palette when she heard the door open behind her, and she felt the shadow of Jake’s imposing form fall over her.
