“Quit being a baby. I’m sleepy. My feet feel like they weigh a hundred pounds. Carry me, bitch.” Her face curved into the cutest pucker as she ordered me about. I kind of liked this bossy side of her.
“Your wish is my command.”
Sweeping a girl off her feet was a lot less graceful than I’d imagined, but with a little help from the driver, we got Cam’s house unlocked. I sent him back to the car as I followed Adley’s murmured directions to her bedroom. It was all going splendidly until I took a turn to quickly and rammed her head on the doorframe of her room.
“Son of a bitch!”
Yep, she was definitely awake. She clutched her injured head as she howled curses.
“I think you all are trying to kill me,” she told me as I laid her on the bed. The room was bland, giving absolutely nothing away about its inhabitant. There were no personal touches or knick-knacks strewn about or clues about her past.
Above the covers, her body curled into a tight ball around the nearest pillow.
“I haven’t exactly decided what I want to do with you yet,” I admitted with a sigh, taking a heavy seat beside her. Her eyes were closed and, even if she was still semiconscious, I highly doubted she’d be able to remember this tomorrow. “I find you far more interesting than I’d initially planned.”
“I want to have sex with you a lot more than I’d originally planned.” Her mouth was mashed into a pillow, obscuring the words, but I heard them loud and clear.
My ego swelled, blooming right across my smirking lips. She might have been fucked out of her mind, but at least I knew I was getting under her skin just as much as she was getting under mine. And it seemed we were both more interested in getting under each others’ clothes.
I didn’t even realize I’d leaned over until my lips grazed her forehead in the lightest kiss. At first I was stunned by my gentle actions, but then my own laughter caught me off guard.
“You smell horrible,” I told her, still chuckling. I leaned over to brush my lips over her forehead again.
And then I abruptly stopped laughing at all, slowly backing away from the bed like it held explosives. It practically did…
Being intrigued by someone by itself was one thing, and when you add in the physical attraction, we were already moving into dangerous territory, but if I was willing to hang out with her while smelled like a bar and wasn’t even conscious we were at Threat Level Orange: danger, danger Will Robinson.
No way in hell was I getting seriously involved with Adley Adair. She was a mess – a disaster really. Emotionally repressed didn’t even begin to describe it. This girl needed a therapist. I couldn’t possibly like her. It wasn’t even option.
No bloody way.
Chapter Nine
Adley
And the hits just kept on coming. I’d made a fool out of myself twice in front of Declan. As if he already didn’t have enough ammunition to torture me, I had gone and served up even more embarrassment on a silver platter.
Gaping, empty black spots blotted out random memories of the night, but I hadn’t yet ascertained whether the development was a good or bad thing. On one hand, it could have been completely innocent. Maybe I’d dozed off harmlessly. But honestly, considering one of the things I wished I could have forgotten was formulating a plan to molest him in the car, I had little to no faith that one of those missing holes didn’t hide something that would leave me chagrined. Even without knowing the whole story, the offensive aftertaste of shame hadn’t left me since I woke up Friday, wearing only Declan’s shirt and minus one very expensive, borrowed dress.
As a result of my indiscretion, I’d resorted back to an age-old solution I liked to call ‘rich people coping.’ Not that my family had been considered in any way ‘rich’ by Los Angeles standards. We were comfortable. But ‘comfortable people coping’ just didn’t have the same ring to it.
There are things about having money that they don’t tell you. Like how it might be nice to be able to throw money at a problem, but once it becomes the go-to solution, it can really come back to bite you in the ass. Eventually you are going to come across a problem that money can’t fix, and when that happens, rich people do what they do best; they ignore it. They pretend it doesn’t exist.
Thankfully, I’d had a whole weekend to perfect my ignorant act. Unfortunately, as soon as the limo’s midnight exterior slipped through the tree line Monday morning, and my heart galloped like a cowardly horse spooked by a snake, I realized that there wasn’t enough time in the world to prepare me for Declan Davies.
“We’ve got to quit meeting like this.” Right off the bat, Declan deviated from our regularly scheduled program, cracking his window enough to peek at me.
“What?” my reply was deadpanned, inflectionless. It was a good start, but I had no illusions that Declan would simply roll over and accept my cool attitude towards him.
“You, hung over, shamed, and wearing sunglasses that are too big for your face.” A shimmer of a grin passed like a breeze. “You look like an insect.”
I had no answer for that, so I resumed our routine, whether he was a willing a participant or not, walking to my side of the car. I’d long ago shrugged off any door opening privileges from the driver. I was a twenty-first century woman!
“What? No muffin this morning?” His forced nonchalance didn’t even put a dent in the tension simmering between us.
I shrugged.
I shrugged a lot during the following days. It became my go-to response to his continued attempts to weasel past my indifferent exterior. On the inside, though, I was stewing. No one had ever gotten under my skin like he did over that next week.
At first, I almost believed he was going to accept it. My muteness stretched out over days unnoted, although his lack of interest could have had something to do with the bully impersonating our previously sweet and laidback southern director.
Georgia had been transformed. It was clear she was on a mission to get the performances of a lifetime from Madeline and Declan, and she wasn’t accepting anything less, even if she had to forcefully drag it from the depths of their souls.
The lead actors’ distraction allowed me to really study the filmmaking process for the first time since I’d arrived. It was much more intricate than I’d ever given them credit for. A huge amount of thought, money, effort, and time went into even the smallest of details. I once witnessed two crew members almost come to blows over how the books should be arranged on Cam’s bookshelf in the loft set.
It still hadn’t gotten any less strange watching The Girl in the Yellow Dress’s twisted, sometimes backwards, reenactment of the things I’d sworn to never think of again. Seeing the actors that were chosen to play an off-brand version of my parents was weird, but nothing surpassed watching Madeline and Declan pretend to be Cam and I in the surreal department.
I often found myself mesmerized by their scenes together. They had a sizzling chemistry that was impossible to describe when you’d seen them interact off camera. I couldn’t understand how a nearly sibling-like bond transformed into something so raw and honest that it was impossible to turn away from with a snap of the clapper and a shout of “Action!”
***
“Just think, in a few hours you won’t be a virgin anymore.”
Fran and I were camped out in the wardrobe department, waiting for Madeline to finish. The stylists had managed to wrangle her behind a privacy screen for once, an impressive feat.
I cleared my throat, embarrassed, and felt the prickle of blood gathering at the surface of my cheeks.
“You’re a couple of years and one childbirth too late.”
Fran laughed at the rare joke. I knew better than to be offended by the two cellphones that never left the personal assistance’s eye sight. From our mutual time spent trailing after America’s favorite starlet, I’d learned that losing focus, even to blink, could cost you millions of dollars in their business.
“I’m talking about you witnessing your very first live se
x scene today.”
“But isn’t it supposed to be a closed set?” I looked to the far end of the room, where I could make out Madeline’s slender shadow behind the partition. They were doing a lot of work just to have her get naked, if you asked me.
“Only because the tabloids would call her a hussy if she didn’t have it written into all her contracts…Honestly, it was easier to keep my daughter Maria dressed when she was a toddler than it is Madeline in present day,” she scoffed, shaking her head in bewilderment. “And you should know by now that as long as you’re around, she’s going to take full advantage. But look on the bright side. She’s granting you access beyond the velvet rope with a front row seat to see all our resident Aussie national treasure has to offer.”
I choked on air, and there was no doubt my face was scarlet. “It’s just acting though, right? People don’t actually have to have sex to make it look realistic.”
“You’d be surprised,” she said knowingly. “Another assistant on our last project told me her boss went all in for the indie film they’d just wrapped, if you know what I mean. Thankfully Madeline’s never gone to that level of extreme…though sometimes I wouldn’t put it past her.”
I wouldn’t have either.
Fran smirked at my obvious disgust, but let the subject die at that.
By the time we arrived at the closed set, I was a nervous wreck. It didn’t help that Soundstage Three was always kept at the average winter temperature of freaking Minnesota! I was a shivering, jittery mess.
Madeline strolled confidentially in ahead of me. Dressed in nothing but a floral sundress that would soon be on the floor, and flesh colored underwear that I’d caught a glimpse of earlier, she could have been headed to a local coffee shop with as much anxiety as she showed.
A closed set was even more intimate than I’d expected. Declan was already there, talking with Georgia, and I was relieved to see that he, at least, had the good sense to be a little nervous. He kept shifting his weight back and forth.
Other than the director and male lead, only the cinematographer and boom operator were present. Fran and Alfred had been stopped outside with a collected group of hair, make-up, wardrobe, and lighting people, where they were waiting to be called inside when their services were required.
At that moment, I was more than happy to let Madeline be Adley Adair. Declan was an ass, but he was still one of the most intimidatingly attractive people I’d ever seen. Maybe if I looked like Madeline I wouldn’t be worried about it either, though I doubted it. The slim girl was sticking close to my side.
Georgia called her over for a quick, private powwow between just the three of them to go over some blocking notes before they got started, and Madeline made sure I understood her very pointed stare in my direction as she walked away. It was a look that visibly stated, ‘don’t even think about it.’
The time we’d spent together definitely hadn’t been in vain. It was clear she had a pretty solid grasp on what was going through my head at that moment. All I wanted to do was bolt.
Heeding her warning, I tore my wistful gaze from the exit and turned to the set. I’d already seen several sequences shot in the backdrop of Cam’s apartment. It was far from accurate, but the art director had done a really nice job of capturing an urban vibe that implied struggle while remaining stylish.
With the lack of cast and crew milling about, I had my pick of chairs, and I took the opportunity to be strategic about the spot I would potentially be spending the next six hours in.
“Quiet on set!” Georgia announced, but I assumed it was purely out of habit, since the three of us hadn’t uttered a word since arriving. “Everyone to your marks.”
Having been dragged line-by-line through the script, I knew the scene well. It was supposed to be the day I’d shown up on Cam’s doorstep in North Carolina after leaving home with no explanation.
Madeline looked appropriately troubled as a surprised Declan urged her inside the three dimensional set.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, in character. “You’re supposed to be at school…Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s in bad taste to start skipping class before the syllabus has even been handed out?”
She returned a watery smile that I objected to. Sure, I’d been in a bad place in my life. I’d just flown across the country, knowing I’d probably never see my family again, and I was five months pregnant with a child I’d been in denial of for the better part of a month. But that didn’t mean I had cried about it! I wasn’t some weak heroine who broke down the second I had a shoulder to cry on.
“I just…” she struggled for words as the screenplay instructed. “I don’t…I just needed to see you.”
Declan pulled her into him, not pushing her for the explanation she fought to put into words. She buried her head into his chest, and for a moment, it seemed like she really might just dissolve into a mess of tears and snot.
I really would have had to object on that character choice, probably loudly and without care of the rolling camera I was interrupting. My name had been tarnished enough without these girly dramatics. But at the last minute, she tilted her head up and captured his lips in a pleading kiss.
Earlier when we’d discussed it, she’d asked, “Why did you kiss him?”
I’d paused, not because I hadn’t known the answer, but because I hadn’t wanted to say it. “To distract him.”
Just as they had in reality four years ago, things spiraled from there, as Madeline and Declan acted out the carnal pleasure Cam and I had written with our own bodies.
I knew that the reality of a sex scene wasn’t supposed to be sexy, and for the most part, it wasn’t. There was something clinical, uninspired, knowing every action the actors took in front of the camera came from the direction of the fifty year old woman standing just a few feet away. Georgia jumped in often, instructing them between takes to, “Keep doing that,” or “Tilt your head just a little more to the right.” My personal favorite was when she told Madeline to do something with her legs because it, “looked like Declan was trying to seduce a starfish.”
I was just starting to relax about the whole thing when clothes started flying. Say what you will about the mechanics of the act, but there was something undeniably erotic about flesh on flesh, no matter how it came to occur.
And Declan had some of the finest skin I’d ever seen. The slow loss of clothes ended with his pants, and my yammering heart almost wept with disappointment when his boxers stayed in place. They were hoping for a PG13 rating, after all. Thankfully though, Georgia was known for exhausting as many takes as possible before moving on, which meant I was treated to the show again and again.
I finally understood the appeal of strippers.
“Okay, let’s take five and refresh!” Georgia clapped her hands, startling me from my enraptured state with a squeak.
Snapped back into reality, you could have roasted marshmallows off the heat my face was producing.
Declan stood up, waiting for Fran to bring him and Madeline their robes, and like drizzling honey, my eyes sank down his tanned, defined abdomen. Jesus Christ, how did you even go about getting a body like that?
My mouth was dry, hands clammy, and I had no doubt, if he tried to talk to me while I was in that state, I’d end up acting like a teeny-bopper at a Justin Bieber concert. I may have been acting with all the decorum of a fifth grader with a crush, but my dignity wasn’t going to just let me sit there and face certain mortification.
I jumped to my feet with every intention of going to hide in the bathroom until I was sure the brief intermission was over.
Unfortunately, my haste landed me face planted into the chest I’d just been admiring from afar. Declan stiffened, taking the brunt of my assault before I could halt the forward progress of my body. Oh God, no. I prayed I hadn’t been drooling, because with my mouth landed about an inch from his nipple, he definitely would have felt it.
“Bathroom,” I choked out, peeling my body off his.
> “Must be something in the water,” he joked with a nervous chortle, and I thought it might have been the most un-suave I’d ever seen him. Not that I was in a position to appreciate his rare, abashed moment. “I was headed that way myself.”
Neither of us moved, and awkwardness soaked through our silence.
I blinked my eyes rapidly, trying to clear away images of the Greek God that was clouding my judgment, and turn him back into the contemptuous movie star I was familiar with. I knew how to deal with Declan. I just didn’t know how to deal with my attraction for him.
“Alright then,” he said finally, before heading to the bathroom.
I was about to let out a relieved sigh when he stopped a few feet away and turned back to me. “Didn’t you say you had to go too?”
“Changed my mind.”
He left me with one last odd look.
“What’s going on with you two?” Madeline asked, stealing my relief.
“You’re his friend. You would know better than me,” I countered, needing desperately to push the attention elsewhere.
“Friend?” she rolled the word off her tongue like it was as foreign as the concept itself was to her.
I seethed. Declan really cared about her in his own, twisted way. He’d sure shamed me like I’d offered a sixth grader a cigarette when he’d thought she’d gotten drunk with me.
I’d never disliked her as much as I did in that moment. She was just standing there in her stupid little silk robe completely oblivious to anything and everyone that didn’t forward her goals. Declan deserved better than that…at least from her he did.
“Yes, Madeline, as crazy as it seems that someone could actually care about something other than themselves, Declan considers you his friend.”
She frowned at my outburst, like I’d disappointed her in some way, and I got the distinct feeling it wasn’t because I’d basically called her selfish.
Someone I Used to Know Page 12
