by Holly Rayner
“A few days, perhaps.”
Her stomach rolled. She’d been casually researching Sharraini customs, but the time had come to step up her game. Making a fool of herself or seeming disrespectful in front of her long-lost family wouldn’t do.
“Don’t worry. You’ll do great.” Kane reached down to put his hand on top of the two of hers.
The touch made her tingle. “You sure about that? What if I’m so nervous I can’t say a thing?”
“Then we’ll work our way through it. You won’t be doing this alone.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He probably had no idea what that promise meant to her.
With a squeeze of her fingers, Kane withdrew his hand to pick up his coffee. Heat bloomed across Leyla’s face, and she hid her cheeks behind her own coffee cup.
Blushing was something that tended to happen a lot when Kane was around.
A couple of women passed by, on their way out the door. They threw looks Kane’s way, then one of them giggled.
“How do you stand it?” Leyla whispered.
Since it seemed he hadn’t even noticed the women, she started to explain further, but his answer cut her off.
“If you want to be a certain way, you have to act like you are that way. Eventually, not only will you fool everyone else, you’ll have yourself fooled as well.” A glint entered his eye. “Fake it till you make it.”
“Right.” She tapped the bar. “Of course.”
How had she not guessed that already? It was how she’d taught herself confidence as an adult, and how she’d gotten through bullying as a kid. When other children were mean or made fun of her, she’d simply acted like she couldn’t care less. Without fail, they’d always ended up leaving her alone—but not before she’d stopped caring about their actions, anyway.
“But you already know about that,” Kane said.
“Why? Because I’m an actress?”
He leveled his gaze with hers. “You strike me as the kind of person who believes they can do anything they set their mind to.”
“On my best days.”
“Aren’t those the ones that count?” He leaned back and studied her.
Leyla started to answer, but an alarm went off on Kane’s phone. Wearing a frown, he pulled it from his breast pocket.
“I’m sorry. I have a meeting in ten minutes.”
“That’s okay.” She waved her hand. “I have things to get to, as well. You know, my own corporation to run.”
“Thanks, babe,” he said, right as a small group of people passed by.
Sliding off the stool, Kane wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. Leyla couldn’t help it. Her face instinctively turned toward him, as if her lips were seeking a match.
“Want to walk out with me?” he asked.
She nodded at the computer bag at her feet. “Actually, I think I’ll stay here and get some things done.”
It had been a few weeks since she’d looked at her script, and she had a couple ideas for tightening it up.
“Great. See you later.”
With one last lingering look, he left. A woman sitting by the door craned her neck watching him go, then cast a jealous glance Leyla’s way.
If only she knew…
Sitting back down, she pulled her laptop from the bag and powered it on. No sooner had she opened her screenwriting software, though, than her phone rang.
At the sight of the unfamiliar number, she almost rejected the call, but something in her whispered to do the opposite.
“Hello? This is Leyla.”
“Leyla, hello,” a woman said. “This is Georgia Teeter with DeHaan Pictures. Your agent gave me your number.”
Leyla had to take a minute to process that. Had she heard correctly? DeHaan Pictures was a film distribution company. Not the biggest in America, but they had a streaming service and many of their films screened in theaters.
“Hello,” Leyla said again, unsure of where else to start.
“I know this call is completely out of the blue. First of all, let me say congratulations on your engagement.”
“Thank you.”
The pictures had only been released that morning. Talk about a ripple effect.
“So, here’s why I’m getting in touch,” Georgia Teeter said. “One of our execs is in Austin for today only. He’d love to meet with you and talk about your script. Are you interested?”
Leyla nearly tripped over her own tongue. “Oh my gosh. Yes. Of course. But how did you know about my script?”
“Your agent has a copy.”
“Right.” She knew that.
What didn’t make sense was that a distribution company, after seeing the engagement photos, had gotten in touch with her agent. Then again, the engagement announcement had said that Leyla was an “actress and aspiring filmmaker.”
She’d hoped an engagement to Kane would give her career some kind of boost, but had never imagined it could happen this fast.
After giving Georgia the address of the coffee shop, Leyla hung up and stared out the window in a daze. Things weren’t supposed to happen this fast.
She could almost hear London’s voice chastising her. You deserve this! Things can happen this fast for you!
Drawing a bucket from the self-confidence well, she shook off the doubting thoughts.
Though she didn’t know who she was looking for, Leyla watched the door anyway. After about fifteen minutes, a middle-aged man in a button-up and carrying a briefcase came into the coffee shop and cast his gaze around, clearly searching for someone.
As his eyes landed on Leyla, he brightened. Her heart pounding, she sat up straighter and smiled.
“Ms. Al-Adain?” After crossing the floor, he offered his hand.
She shook it, hoping her palm wasn’t too clammy from nerves.
“Dean Tate.” He took the stool next to her that Kane had used. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You, too, though I have to admit I’m a little in shock. How did you find out about me so quickly?”
He smiled in a way that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We have our sensors out constantly. Quality content is hard to find.”
“Oh. I see.”
Not really, but she was hoping that all would be revealed in time.
“I read your script,” Dean said. “And it’s just the kind of project DeHaan is needing right now. Where are you at, production-wise?”
“Still in pre-production, but I have all of the funding. I’m applying for a SAG Modified Low Budget Agreement.”
Saying the words filled her with a sense of accomplishment. Thanks to the check Kane had delivered to her apartment via his assistant the night before, she was now a millionaire.
Just… not for long, since all of that money would soon be used for making a movie. Not that there was anything to do but celebrate that fact.
“Excellent.” He nodded. “And production companies? Who are you working with?”
“I don’t know yet.” She hesitated, wishing she had all the answers. “I’m about to take a trip with my fiancé. After we get back, I’ll look into Austin production companies. I really want to keep the whole project local.”
Another nod from Dean. “That’s admirable.” He scooted his stool a little closer. “We believe in your story. We’re open to talking distribution with you, now.”
“Before the movie is made?” Her voice went up in surprise.
“Yes. We saw the video on your crowdfunding page. You might be a first-time director, but you know what you’re doing.”
“Thank you.”
When she’d been hoping to raise the needed money, Leyla had made a teaser for the movie. It had been a couple scenes stitched together with her playing the lead and a few Austin actors in the supporting roles.
“If that video,” Dean said, “is any indication of the upcoming film’s quality, we’re more than interested. We want to close a deal.”
“Wow. Thank you,” she said. It was t
he only response she could come up with.
Everything had changed in the last week. Not only did she have money to make her movie, but now a company was interested in distributing it!
“Actually,” Dane said, “we’re interested in more than one film. What we’d really like is two from you. Your narrative feature and a documentary.”
“A documentary?” Leyla frowned.
She could probably count on one hand the documentaries she’d watched in the last year. When it came to making one, she knew next to nothing. Also, she had zero desire to do so.
“I know. It sounds out of the blue. But hear me out. The subject matter we’re wanting is something you’re very familiar with. We want an inside look at your relationship with the powerhouse CEO of one of the biggest oil companies in the world. An intimate look at what you and Kane Clay are like behind closed doors.”
“Um…”
Was this a joke?
“We could do it without Kane,” he said, “but it would be better with him.”
Finally, Leyla found her voice. “He really prefers to stay out of the public eye.”
It was one of few truthful tidbits. After spending a small handful of outings with Kane, she’d learned that much.
“Regardless of that fact, he’s in the public eye,” Dane answered. “There are assumptions made about him. A documentary could be his chance to control his image.”
That was undoubtedly true, but Leyla couldn’t speak for Kane.
“We could all meet sometime,” Dane said. “Discuss this in whole.”
“I can mention it to him. What if neither one of us is interested in the documentary, though?” She held her breath, afraid of the answer.
Dan cringed. “At this point, what we’re offering is a two-project deal. We have to look ahead and protect our interests. It’s a lot of work that we put into one filmmaker, and it really pays off if they have other projects queued up.”
Leyla exhaled. It was the answer she’d been afraid of.
“I have other ideas. Narrative ones. I appreciate your interest in our personal lives, Mr. Tate, but we’re really not intriguing in the slightest.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. With the right angle—”
“Really.” Leyla smiled tightly. “I don’t think it’s for us.”
There was a pregnant pause, the coffee shop’s chatter playing in the background.
Finally, Dane Tate sighed. “I wish I could tell you that we’re willing to budge on the two-project deal and just take your movie, but that’s not something I can promise.”
Leyla’s mouth went dry. She didn’t have the business experience to be able to tell whether or not he was playing hardball. It would have been great to have Kane there to hear his opinion on the matter.
Or not.
What if she said yes to the documentary? As Dean had already clarified, Kane didn’t have to be filmed for it. Obviously, Leyla would be talking about him, but would he really care?
Heck, it could be good for his image. She wouldn’t say anything harmful.
“How long do I have to think about it?” she asked.
“You said you’re about to go on a trip with Mr. Clay? For how long?”
“I’m not sure.” She cleared her throat. “We want to take some time to ourselves. We’ve both been so busy with, uh, work.”
The growing pit in her stomach made it hard to talk. She didn’t want to be the subject of a documentary. Especially when the camera crew would be capturing a completely fabricated “life.”
But it was an amazing opportunity. Just because she now had the money to make a film didn’t mean anyone would ever see it.
From his briefcase, Dean pulled some papers stapled together. “This is a rough contract.” He set it on the bar between the two of them.
Leyla picked it up. It felt like next to nothing in her hands, and yet its meaning weighed so much.
“Look it over,” Dean said. “Whenever you return from your vacation, give me a call and we can chat.”
He handed her a business card, which she slipped into her purse.
“It was nice meeting you.” Taking his briefcase, he stood. “Have a good trip.”
“Thank you. Nice to meet you, as well.”
He left the coffee shop and crossed the street, Leyla’s gaze on him until he disappeared from sight.
Extracting the card from her purse, she read and reread the contact info, waiting for the conversation that had just occurred to sink in.
She could mention the documentary to Kane. Surely, bringing it up wouldn’t hurt.
And what if he didn’t want her to do the project, even if he wasn’t in it? Even though he would never be her real partner, he now had a lot of sway in her life.
Could she confidently move on, knowing that she’d passed up an opportunity for film distribution? Knowing that another offer might not arrive?
Pocketing the card, she gathered her computer and the contract and left the coffee shop. The days when she’d only dreamed of opportunities like the ones surrounding her now seemed long gone.
She should have been ecstatic about all of this. So, how come she wasn’t?
Chapter 12
Kane
The day was bright and warm. It seemed an omen of things to come.
Navigating around the edge of the airport, Kane’s driver stopped only briefly at the security point separating the airport’s tarmac from the side road. The Clays were regulars, with their private jet taking residence at the Austin-Bergstrom airport.
In the back seat, next to Kane, Leyla fidgeted. She’d wiggled nonstop since he’d picked her up at her apartment. Brushing hair from her face, her foot tapping, she looked at him with worry in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” He resisted the urge to touch her hand.
Half of the time, that’s all he did around her. Resist urges.
“Nothing, I guess.” Her smile was forced.
“Don’t worry. Mabrouk has invited us to visit his palace as business associates. He’ll love it once he discovers who you really are.”
You could say it was a cocky assumption, but Kane didn’t care. Mabrouk’s opinion had already swayed. Soon, he’d be eating out of Kane’s hand. That deal was as good as done.
“That’s yours?” Leyla asked.
She nodded at her window. The car was slowing down as they came up to the twelve-seat jet.
“It’s my family’s.”
“Huh.”
Most people were impressed by the private jet. Even if Leyla was only hiding being affected, he liked it. She could be so nonchalant. He imagined it would be fun to try to get a big reaction out of her.
Other than the reaction he’d gotten at the barbecue restaurant. That had been his mistake, and a night he only wanted to move on from.
The car stopped in front of the steps leading up to the open jet. Kane’s driver was out in a heartbeat, opening Leyla’s door.
Right away, she went to the back of the car to get her bags. Seeing a flight attendant was already on it, she took a step back.
Kane lightly touched his fiancée’s elbow. “Ready?”
“Mm-hmm.” She nodded and smiled. Though her face was relaxed, some tension remained in her eyes.
She was a fish out of water.
If she was uncomfortable, she didn’t have to be. He was there, ready and willing to do whatever it took to put her at ease.
“A drink?” was the first thing he said once they were settled in their white leather seats.
She hesitated. “Sure.” A little laugh followed. “I’m not used to being able to relax this early in the day.”
“Relax as much as you want. There’s nothing to do but exactly that for hours.”
She nodded at the briefcase and laptop at his feet. “Doesn’t look like you have relaxing on your mind.”
Kane grimaced at the bags. Taking off from ClayFuel was causing him a lot of anxiety. Nick had assured him everything would be okay, that he could
hold the fort worth billions down for a few days, but leaving still didn’t feel right. Even if it was for work.
But at least he could keep his correspondence going. There were a couple of important meetings scheduled over the next two days, and he planned on dropping into those via video.
Still… wouldn’t it be nice if this were a real vacation? One where he could power off his phone and kick back with a beautiful, interesting woman?
“I’ll get to the work later.” He stuffed the bags under his seat. “For now, let’s have a drink and celebrate all the good we have going for us.”
Fifteen minutes later, after a smooth takeoff, the flight attendant mixed them cocktails. Raising his Old Fashioned, Kane locked eyes with Leyla.
“To us.”
Her red lips lifted. “This feels oddly familiar.”
“I like making toasts.”
“You have a lot to toast over.” She giggled, clinking her glass against his.
Settling into their seats, they watched the fluffy clouds pass by the window. Though Kane took the jet often, the last time he remembered going this far was when he’d taken a trip to Japan with friends.
That had been several years ago, and had had nothing to do with work.
Across from him, Leyla fiddled with her necklace. Her eyes, though trained on the window, were out of focus.
“Still nervous?” he asked.
“I’m trying to talk myself out of it, but I don’t know how I can’t be.” Her throat rolled with a swallow.
“If you could see yourself the way I see you, you’d realize there’s nothing to be worried about.”
Her gaze snapped to Kane’s. His breath froze in his chest. Had that been too much?
But she smiled. “Thank you. That’s sweet of you. I can’t help but worry that I’m unprepared, though. Maybe I missed something when it comes to customs. I would hate to be rude without even knowing it.”
“You’re an outsider. A misstep here and there can be forgiven.”
She raised a brow. “Easy for you to say.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
In response, she waved her hand up and down, gesturing at his body. Kane dipped his head, his gaze landing on the tips of his cowboy boots.
“Right.” He laughed.
