by M. S. Parker
Now I just had to focus on not looking like the wide-eyed newcomer, completely mesmerized by the glam and glitter. When we pulled up in front of a pair of massive iron gates, it was more difficult than I'd expected not to gawk. I'd grown up with money, but there was a huge difference between the elegant old money of Chicago high society and Hollywood money. I mean, my family had a couple maids and groundskeepers, and we had a driver because my mom hated driving herself, but the way high society showed their wealth was in art and with charity. This was definitely flashier. First of all, there was a valet waiting.
Taylor grinned. “It's typical for parties in the Hills to have valet service, especially the ones on these windy, narrow roads.”
I nodded. That actually made sense. It didn't make it less impressive, but at least I knew it wasn't just some sort of pretentious thing. Taylor and I walked up to the large, muscular man who stood in front of the gates. Bar or mansion, there was no mistaking a bouncer. Taylor gave the man his name and introduced me as his plus one. I bristled, but didn't contradict him. Now that I was here, I wanted to go inside.
The bouncer nodded and the lock on the gates clicked. He pushed them open and we started up the driveway. It wasn't a long one, but it had a curve that kept the house from sight until we went around it. As soon as I saw it, I corrected my mental labeling of the place as a house. This was a mansion.
In New York, the rich lived in expensive lofts and had homes in the Hamptons. In Chicago, it was very similar. My family owned a house in the city and three vacation homes that included a cottage in Maine, a beach house in North Carolina and a villa in Italy. Our main house was one of the bigger ones in our affluent neighborhood, but it couldn't truly be called a mansion. In fact, it was half the size of this one. All columns and arches, some impressive architecture that I had no name for, and landscaping that had to cost more than my entire firm made in a year. As Taylor and I stepped inside the mansion, we were treated to a breathtaking view of the city lights through a panoramic glass wall, and waiters carrying finger food weaving between all of the beautiful people.
I was so busy staring at everything that I didn't see the waitress heading my way until her arm hit mine. I side-stepped, narrowly avoiding getting something that looked like caviar all over my dress. The tray crashed to the ground, spraying food across the floor.
“I am so sorry!” The waitress was a cute little blonde who looked a little younger than me. Her face was red and her eyes were wide, one of those 'deer-in-headlights' expressions on her face. “Damnit! So stupid!”
“It's okay,” I tried saying.
“No, no it's not.” She was shaking her head and I could see tears forming in her dark eyes. She looked up at me. “Please don't tell my boss. I'm so sorry. Please don't tell him. He'll fire me.”
“Hey, it's okay.” I put my hand on her shoulder, hoping the contact would break through. “No harm done.”
A look of relief washed over her face and I started to smile.
“Elise!”
Her face fell and I turned towards the voice. A man was striding towards us, his face red with anger. He got in the girl's face, his eyes narrowed.
“Go get your things, you're done!” He didn't even bother trying to keep his voice down.
“It was my fault.” The words popped out of my mouth and I went with it. “I wasn't watching where I was going and I bumped into her.” I gave the man what I hoped was a sheepish-looking smile. “Sorry.”
The man looked at me for a moment, as if trying to decide if he wanted to believe me, then he shook his head and turned back to Elise. He scowled at her, but his voice was back at a normal level when he spoke again. “Clean up the mess and get back to work. There are plenty more trays to be handed out.”
Elise waited until the man was out of earshot, then said, “Thank you for covering for me.”
I shrugged. “Anytime.” I shot a glance at the man's back as he disappeared back through the door he'd come through. “What an asshole.”
Elise gave me a brief smile. “Good luck.”
Before I could ask what she meant, she hurried away, presumably to find something to clean up with. Did she think the guy was going to come back and call me a liar?
I didn't have time to think about it anymore, though, because the music had changed and Taylor grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the dance floor. If there was one place I felt comfortable around a bunch of gorgeous strangers, it was on the dance floor. Some of the women here might've been prettier than me, but I knew I could dance, and not just well, but good enough to have all of the straight men and more than a few women thinking about what it would be like to get me in bed.
For an hour, I forgot about everything else but the club music pounding around me. I danced with Taylor, but let myself move around as well, turning around to move with one stranger, then another. Never touching, always just out of reach. The air was electric and I'd never felt so alive.
“I need some air,” Taylor practically shouted in my ear.
I nodded and let him lead me outside. For people who lived in rural areas, the one-acre backyard might not have seemed that big, but for someone who'd lived in Chicago and then New York, it was huge, and absolutely gorgeous.
Taylor started down the stairs and I fell in step next to him. We walked along a stone path that curved through the grass, heading for the fence at the far end.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“It's beautiful,” I answered, craning my neck to see the stars. It was too bright to see them all, but I could still see them better than I could back home.
“You're beautiful.”
I looked over at him, opening my mouth to tell him that he couldn't say things like that.
“I can't explain it,” he said before I could speak. “I'm drawn to you.”
He reached out and grabbed my hand, his fingers warm as they curled around mine. I knew I should pull away, but I was frozen to the spot. Then he was leaning towards me and, for a brief moment, I was tempted. He was so hot and his lips looked so soft. I wanted to know if he was as good a kisser as I thought he would be. What harm would there be in one kiss?
I sighed and took a step back, taking my hand from his. “You promised,” I said. I had to look away so he couldn't see how close I'd been to letting him kiss me.
“Come on, Krissy,” he coaxed. “Why are you doing this? I know you want it, too.”
Apparently I hadn't looked away fast enough. I turned back towards him. “Maybe I do,” I admitted. “But I can't. You're Mirage's client and there's a strict policy about not dating clients. You know that.”
I didn't add that if I didn't get the job, I just might call him up and take him for a ride or two. At least then I'd get something good out of this trip. I looked over towards the pool just as a couple guests stripped off their tops and jumped in.
“I should get back,” I said. “I have a final interview tomorrow and I don't want to screw anything up.”
Taylor sighed and I could hear the disappointment. “Come on, I'll take you back.”
The ride back to my hotel was quiet and a little awkward, but at least Taylor didn't try anything. If I got the job, I'd be able to get past the flirtations and the almost-kiss, but if he tried again, we might have a problem if I had to work with him in the future.
He pulled up in front of the hotel and put the car in park so he could turn to face me. I really hoped he wasn't going to make a pass after having come all this way without one. I wasn't sure how many rejections he could take before he'd get mad.
“I hope you get the job,” he said sincerely.
“Thank you,” I replied, startled. That had been nice of him. I got out of the car.
As I moved to shut the door, he spoke again, “I'd like it if you stuck around.”
He waited until I reached the hotel doors before he drove away. Maybe he was more than a gentleman than I'd given him credit for. I smiled as I rode the elevator up to my room. After my encount
er with Mr. Ricci, I hadn't been sure those existed anymore.
Chapter 11
You'd think that the third time I found myself sitting in the lobby of Mirage Talent, I'd be less nervous, but that wasn't the case. My plane was leaving in an hour and I'd gotten a call from one of the receptionists saying that I needed to come in for a third interview, at which time a decision would be made. I wasn't just nervous, though; I was pissed. After all the shit DeVon Ricci had pulled and all his talk about honesty, he was jerking me around, asking me to come in again rather than just telling me what he and Mr. Duncan had decided.
“Mr. Ricci will see you now.” The receptionist's tone told me that she'd had to repeat herself. She waited for me to stand and then followed me to the elevator. “He said to go ahead in without knocking.” She gave me a polite smile. “Good luck.”
I scrubbed my palms against my hips as I waited for the elevator to reach the next floor. I didn't like the idea of walking into Mr. Ricci's office without knocking, especially not after what I'd found in my hotel room. For all I knew, he'd be in there with one or both of those women again, maybe doing more than he'd been doing before. Snapshots flipped through my brain of DeVon fucking those two women in a variety of positions. Then they disappeared and it was just him, waiting for me.
“Damnit,” I swore softly. I didn't want to think about Mr. Ricci that way, even if I didn't get the job. My friends often told me that I had shit taste in men, but even I wasn't dumb enough to fall for someone like that.
When the doors opened, I lifted my chin and walked out, exuding my usual confidence. If I couldn't get rid of the nerves, I could at least pretend I didn't feel them. I didn't even hesitate as I opened the door. Hesitation would've made me think twice, and I didn't want that. I had to pretend I was even more confident than I felt.
The room was fairly dark, thanks to the curtains being drawn, but this time, the chair behind the desk was empty. The whole room was empty. I didn't let it stop me. I walked over to the chair where I'd sat before and took a seat, crossing my ankles and waiting.
After a few seconds, I heard a toilet flush and a door to my right opened. Mr. Ricci appeared, his face impossible to read.
“Ms. Jensen, so glad you could come again.”
Like I'd really had a choice if I wanted the job.
“I would tell you to sit down, but I can see you already helped yourself.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to retort that if he'd really been that concerned about me sitting on my own, he should've been here when I came in, or waited until he really was ready for me to have the receptionist send me up. I didn't say either of those things, however. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd pushed my buttons.
We sat in silence for a few minutes and I wondered if he was waiting for me to break. I thought I'd proven before that I was patient.
“Congratulations,” he said suddenly. “You're hired.”
I stared at him for a second, confused. “Excuse me? I'm hired? What about that third interview your receptionist mentioned?”
He met my eyes and I felt a little thrill go through me. “That was last night.” His lips curved into an enigmatic little smile.
Now I was really confused.
“At my house,” he explained without waiting for me to ask. “You passed all the tests.” He pressed his fingertips together in front of him. “I liked how you called that prick of a waiter an asshole. After all, he almost fired that poor actress wanna-be simply because she spilled some food.” He chuckled, as if the entire thing amused him.
“Your house?” I said, my voice sounding faint in my ears. He'd played me? “That whole thing was a set-up? You were behind it all? Made her bump into me?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I had to see what you would do in a situation like that.” He added, “You did well.”
I scowled. He'd embarrassed me, almost ruined my new dress, and all for what? What kind of interview was that? She was just applying for an associate position in the legal department, not trying to become CEO. Suddenly, what he'd said clicked. I tried not to sound as pissed as I was, and it wasn't easy. “You said I passed ALL the tests. What else was there?”
He looked pleased that I'd asked. “Taylor, of course. He's another wanna-be actor I hired to try to seduce you.”
My stomach dropped even as my temper flared. He'd hired Taylor to try to seduce me? How fucking humiliating! If a guy wasn't attracted to me, that was fine, but to have someone be hired to pretend to be into me...It was one thing too many.
I stood and turned towards the door, fully intending to storm out and slam the door behind me for good measure. I was almost close enough to reach the doorknob when he stepped between me and the door. I had too much momentum and ended up only a few inches away from DeVon when I stopped.
“If you leave this office, you go home,” he warned. I could feel the tension between us thicken, making it hard to breathe.
“Fine,” I snapped. I tried to reach around him, but he was blocking the doorknob.
“Let me explain.”
I looked up at him, only now realizing just how big he was. He had to be at least six three, if not taller, and I knew that under his expensive and well-tailored suit was a lean, but defined chest. He was way too close, but I wasn't going to back down. “There's nothing to explain. You're a narcissistic prick.” And there went the job offer, but I didn't care. I'd only said the truth.
His eyes hardened, turning cold. “We all look after ourselves first. Even you.”
My fingers curled into fists as I resisted the urge to slap him. How dare he tell me what I would and wouldn't do! “Not if it means hurting someone else.”
He laughed and the sound was bitter. “You can stop pretending. You already got the job.”
“I said I'd be honest, remember?” I snapped back. “And you can shove your job. I can find an associate's position somewhere else.”
One side of his mouth tipped up in a smile. “I'm not offering some little position in the legal department. Do you really think I'd go though all of this if you were just going to work for Duncan?”
I took a step back. Being too close to him was messing with me. I had no idea what he was talking about.
“You'll be working for me.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “As your assistant? No thanks.” I stepped to the side and reached for the doorknob again. He'd moved just enough so that I could reach it.
He grabbed my arm and it was like a jolt of electricity went through me. I'd never had my body react to a simple touch that way and I told myself it was just because tensions were running high.
“You wouldn't be my assistant, Krissy.”
I swallowed hard as he said my first name. I liked the way it sounded more than I wanted to.
He continued, “You'd be an associate, but one who was being groomed to become a partner in a few years. Your starting salary would be a hundred and twenty thousand dollars a year.”
He let go of my arm but I didn't move. I was too shocked to do anything but stand there. He walked back to his desk, nothing in his demeanor to hint at what had just happened.
“Be here tomorrow at nine a.m. We'll discuss closing your affairs in New York then.”
I opened the door and walked to the elevator without a word. What the hell had just happened?
Chapter 12
DEVON
I paced from one end of the room to the other, my entire body tense. I'd come back from my late lunch to find that I'd missed three calls from a director saying that one of Mirage's clients had shown up to set late, drunk or high. Now the movie was behind schedule and the director was pissed. The fact that it had gotten to me meant that one of my people wasn't doing his or her job right. Rather than call the director and try to smooth things over – which wasn't my fucking job – I was currently tearing the actor's manager a new one.
“I don't care if you have to clean up his vomit, shower and dress him to get him to the set read
y to go. You fix this, or you won't only be fired, you'll find yourself blackballed from every agency in town. You won't be able to book a porn star for Blow-job Betty 6, you understand me?”
I saw the door open and turned towards it. Duncan came in, giving me an impatient gesture that said he wanted to talk.
“Can you wait a fucking second?” I snapped at him.
“What?” The manager on the other end of my bluetooth now sounded confused as well as scared.
“Not you,” I said. “You do whatever you need to do to make sure your client does his fucking job or we're through with him, too. Pretty-boy actors are a dime a dozen in this city. You tell him that if he fucks up again, he'll be bottoming in gay porn again to pay his rent.”
