Passionate Premiere

by Deborah Fletcher Mello

  “Really?”

  “Well, we would have talked about it more, at least.”

  “We didn’t need a whole lot of conversation, Guy.”

  “But we should have—” He stopped in midsentence as Dahlia pressed an index finger to his lips.

  “We did exactly what we were supposed to do, Guy,” she whispered.

  He shook his head as he curled himself against her. “Yes,” he said, his voice a loud whisper against the curve of her arm. “But I wouldn’t have waited for the chance to tell you I love you, Dahlia. I would have told you that first.”

  Dahlia felt her tears rising again. “You can still tell me that now,” she said, savoring the heat from his body.

  Guy drew his fingers against her cheek. He pressed a tight kiss to her closed lips. “I do, you know. I love you, Dahlia Morrow.”

  Dahlia giggled softly as she met his gaze. “I love you, too, Guy Boudreaux, very much. Now, can we do it again?”

  Chapter 15

  Leslie eyed Dahlia curiously as the woman rushed into the office, her face flushed. She glanced up at the clock over her desk and shook her head.

  “I know. I know,” Dahlia said. “I’m late.”

  “What’s up with you today? You are never late for anything.”

  Dahlia shrugged as she quickly flipped through a stack of papers, searching for the previous night’s call sheets.

  Leslie studied her intently. “And you’re glowing! Really, what’s up with you?”

  Dahlia giggled. “Nothing. I just overslept is all.”

  Leslie nodded her head slowly. “You got some, didn’t you?”

  “What are you talking about?” Dahlia said, refusing to meet her friend’s gaze. “I didn’t get anything.”

  “Uh-huh, yes, you did. You got you some. Who kept you from getting out of bed this morning, Dahlia?”

  Dahlia shook her head. “You’re crazy, Leslie.”

  Leslie laughed. “And you’re a bad liar.”

  Dahlia laughed with her, ignoring her admonishment. “I’ve got to get to the studio. I’ll barely have time to go through yesterday’s dailies before we have to start shooting.”

  Leslies glanced at the clock a second time. “You’re fine. The crew had a five-thirty call time. Your cast has to report to wardrobe and makeup at ten. It’s just seven. You have plenty of time. So, why don’t you enjoy your coffee and tell me about your weekend.”

  Dahlia shook her head. “I don’t have anything to tell,” she said, reaching for the morning beverage Leslie held out to her.

  “Sure you don’t!” Her friend rolled her eyes. “Well, this might be of interest to you,” she said, passing Dahlia a copy of the New York Post, the morning newspaper opened to the celebrity gossip on page six.

  “What’s this?” Dahlia asked, scanning the paper’s byline. Her name jumped out at her as she read the few short lines of celebrity news. She shook her head repeatedly, unable to fathom how quickly gossip traveled from point A to point B. “And I wonder who the unnamed source could be?” she said, annoyance floating over her face.

  “Well,” Leslie said, interjecting her two cents, “I imagine that if it wasn’t you and it wasn’t Mr. Boudreaux, then maybe, just maybe, Zahara Ginolfi might have had something to do with it.”

  Dahlia’s head still waved from side to side. “Unbelievable,” she exclaimed.

  “But I’m willing to put my money on Guy having been in your bed last night, and not Zahara’s, despite the assertions that there is tension on the set because you’re trying to steal her new man.”

  Dahlia blew out a deep sigh. “What is it they say?” Her eyebrows lifted. “Bad press is better than no press?”

  “Girl, I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is some good press.”

  “You’re stupid!” Dahlia laughed. “I’ve got to run. I’ve got a movie to make.”

  When she got to the door, Leslie called her name.

  “What?”

  “Was he good?”

  Dahlia grinned. “Leave me alone, Leslie,” she said as she moved out the door.

  She could hear Leslie’s laugh ringing behind her. “That’s what I’m talking about. You go, girl!”

  * * *

  Guy reached for his cell phone, pulling it to his ear. “Hello?”

  “Where are you?” his sister demanded through the receiver. “I’m here at your apartment and you aren’t here. And I called and they said you haven’t made it to set yet.”

  “Good morning to you, Maitlyn.” He yawned as he stretched his body out across the bed. “I have another two hours before I have to be on set.”

  “Where are you, Guy?”

  “In bed.”

  “Whose bed?”

  “What’s the matter, Maitlyn?”

  “The Morning Show wants to interview you about your new film and your new relationship.”

  “What relationship?” he asked, his eyes opening wide.

  “Well, if I believe any of the gossip, your new relationship with your costar Zahara. To hear her tell it you two are quite the item.”

  “Well, we’re not.”

  “And that’s why she’s on The Morning Show telling the world that you are the lover in her life.”

  Guy rolled his eyes. “No, she’s not.”

  “Yes, she is,” Maitlyn screamed into the receiver. “Turn on your television!”

  Guy sighed. “I can’t. Dahlia doesn’t have a television in her bedroom.”

  His sister laughed. “I am so telling Mommy!”

  “Leave me alone, Mattie!”

  Guy listened as his sister sighed over the receiver. As his agent and manager Maitlyn was responsible for every aspect of her brother’s career. As his big sister she felt overwhelmingly responsible for his personal life, especially if he could learn a life lesson from her mistakes. If tossing two cents into his personal affairs gave him something to think about then it was well worth the expenditure, she had once told him.

  “I’m getting questions from the media, Guy. What do you want me to say?”

  “Say that I’m in a very good place in my life and that I’m very happy.”

  “And you’re in this good place with Zahara?”

  “Hell, no!” Guy said emphatically.

  “With Dahlia?”

  “Of course with Dahlia. Who else would it be?”

  “You say that like it’s something I should know.”

  “You should.”

  “And you’ve been keeping me up-to-date with your love life for how long now?”

  “All of two minutes, so you should have no problems getting it right.”

  “You are going to drive me crazy, baby brother.”

  “I’m keeping you on your toes.”

  “A word of advice, little brother.”

  Guy shook his head. “Is this going to be a lecture? Because I don’t have time for a lecture. I’m making time this morning.”

  “No, just something for you to think about. You obviously like Dahlia and she seems to like you, so you need to remember that because of your professions, your personal lives are bound to play out in the media for public scrutiny. And though most of it might be a fabrication, what they say about there being fire where there’s smoke does have some truth to it. Zahara’s clearly fanning flames about you and her for a reason. And true or not, I’m sure Dahlia, being a woman, can’t help but wonder why. I know I would.”

  “So what are you trying to say, Mattie?”

  “I’m saying that you need to be mindful that you aren’t giving Zahara firewood to work with. I’m saying you need to get her in check and do whatever you have to do to douse those flames fast. Do it for Dahlia.”

  There was a
brief moment of silence before Guy spoke again. “I’m going to take Dahlia with me to New Orleans this weekend to meet the old people. Are you going to be around?”

  “I’m sure we will all be there for that,” she answered.

  Guy laughed. “Don’t scare her, Mattie. She loves me.”

  His sister laughed with him. “And do you want me to tell the press that, too?”

  “Yeah,” he said softly. “And don’t forget to tell them that I love her more.”

  * * *

  Zahara’s morning interviews made the front page of the evening tabloids. Despite Guy’s assertions that nothing was going on between him and Zahara, and Dahlia knowing how the press loved to run with a good lie, she couldn’t help but wonder if there might have been an inkling of truth to the story.

  Zahara and Guy were amazing on-screen together. Rarely had Dahlia seen that kind of chemistry between actors who didn’t have some kind of history between them. It was obvious that Zahara liked Guy. In fact, it was clear that she liked him a lot. And Guy did have a reputation for being quite the ladies’ man. But then, so did she, Dahlia thought suddenly. To hear the media tell it, Dahlia had gone through men like some people changed their undergarments. And knowing the truth of her own situation, Dahlia knew Guy’s, as well. And she knew that she had no reason whatsoever to doubt what was growing between them.

  Dahlia knew that she was being foolish to doubt Guy’s feelings because she’d finally decided to take their relationship to the next level.

  Always one to make an entrance, Zahara showed up an hour after her call time. Anticipating her late arrival, Dahlia was already filming another scene, oblivious to the woman’s bad behavior.

  As Dahlia directed the actors, in deep conversation with the cast about what she wanted, Guy sat on set watching her. He bristled as Zahara moved to his side, sliding her arm through his as she leaned in to kiss his cheek.

  “Did you see my interview?” she whispered.

  “What interview?” Guy whispered back.

  “The Morning Show. I made sure we got some good press.”

  Guy shrugged, his gaze still focused on Dahlia. “Sorry, I missed it.”

  “I think we should do dinner tonight. We need to be seen out in public.”

  Guy sighed, cutting his eye in the woman’s direction. “That’s not going to happen, Zahara. Sorry.”

  “Why not?”

  “I told you before. I’m in a relationship with someone. And I’m not interested in people thinking that you and I are in a relationship together.”

  “Dahlia’s been around the block a few times. If I were you I wouldn’t want my name linked romantically with hers. With her reputation you’re just another notch on her very long belt.”

  Guy tensed, shaking the woman’s grip from his arm. “Zahara, if I were a betting man, I’ve venture to say that you’ve probably been around the block a lot more than Dahlia has. And since she’s going to be my wife, I think my name linked romantically to hers won’t be a problem.”

  Zahara’s eyes enlarged. “You’re going to marry her?”

  The man smiled. “They’re waiting for you in wardrobe, Zahara. We’ve got a big scene to do. You should go get ready.”

  Zahara pressed herself against him a second time. “Yes, we do have a scene together,” she said. “And isn’t this the scene where we make love to each other?”

  Guy shook his head. “No, this is the scene where we break up.”

  Gripping him by the front of his shirt she leaned in to kiss his mouth, eagerly gliding her lips over his lips. From the outside looking in, someone would have thought the two were sharing an intimate moment until Guy gripped her by the shoulders and pushed her from him. He shook his head vehemently.

  “It’s not going to happen, Zahara. Sorry!”

  Zahara bristled. “It could be good between us.”

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I don’t think so.”

  The woman stood staring at him for a brief moment before doing an about-face and stomping off. As a door slammed loudly behind her, Dahlia moved to Guy’s side. After swiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, he wrapped his arms around her torso and hugged her tightly, planting a blatant kiss on her lips.

  “What was that about?” Dahlia asked, her gaze shifting toward Zahara’s exit.

  Guy shook his head. “Nothing important. Just Zahara being Zahara.”

  Dahlia nodded slowly. “And was Guy being Guy?”

  “Aren’t I always?”

  “For a second there it looked like you two were having a moment together.”

  “Looks can be deceiving.”

  “So you weren’t making nice with that woman?”

  “Nope!”

  “And you were kissing her because...?”

  “She kissed me. I had nothing to do with it. That’s why she stormed off angry.”

  Dahlia shook her head. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing that your last scene together is a fight.”

  Guy laughed. “I was just thinking the very same thing ’cause I have no doubt that she is going to be a beast!”

  * * *

  Dahlia had forgotten how much she enjoyed the energy of Venice Beach. And after the day she’d had with Zahara and her tantrums, the free-spirited atmosphere was just what she needed to help her unwind. As she walked the beachfront district on the west side of Los Angeles, she was grateful that all of the scenes Zahara shared with Guy were done, finished and in the can. It had been a long fourteen weeks and had she needed any more time to capture the two of them together she knew that it would have been next to impossible to accomplish.

  Guy’s blatant rejection had set Zahara right on edge; the woman did not take kindly to being ignored. For most of the day she’d been miserable with the rest of the cast and the crew, and it was only Dahlia’s threat to pursue legal action against her that kept her from walking off set before the last scenes were done. But like Guy had predicted, Zahara’s anger toward him played out wonderfully on film. And the moment Dahlia had shouted “cut” Zahara had disappeared without so much as a goodbye.

  Dahlia sighed. She just knew that it was going to require a call from her attorney to Zahara’s people to ensure Zahara showed up the following week to wrap up some voice-over work that Dahlia needed from her. The actress had made it perfectly clear that she was not going to make anything Dahlia needed from her easy.

  Dahlia paused along the two-and-a-half-mile pedestrian-only promenade to watch one of the performers, a man dubbed King Solomon the Snake Charmer. The black man was bare-chested, dressed only in a native breechcloth and African kufi. He performed an acrobatic dance of sorts with a number of large snakes, and Dahlia was entertained by the children who were watching him in complete awe.

  She then continued her stroll toward the basketball courts and the street ballers who were lost in competition. Guy saw her before she saw him, and his game face shifted into a wide grin. Letting his guard down for that brief moment enabled one of the other players to snatch the basketball from his hands and sail to the other end of the court to nail a basket. Guy’s team shook their heads in dismay as they heckled him off the court.

  “Put a sock in it,” Guy shouted as he skipped to her side. Unable to mask his excitement, he swept her up into his arms and spun her around.

  Dahlia laughed, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. “Hey, you!”

  “What took you so long, woman? I was just about to call out the troops to come look for you.”

  “It wasn’t nice of you to break up with Zahara on the same day she announces that you two are an item. She was absolutely impossible to deal with after you left.”

  “That’s what happens when you’re dealing with crazy. I don’t want any part of that woman’s craziness, thank you.”

 
Dahlia shook her head, still laughing. She pressed her lips to his and kissed him warmly. “I missed you,” she said, her voice dropping an octave.

  Guy grinned widely. “I missed you, too. Are you ready to eat? We can grab something now if you want.”

  She shook her head. “Not really. You can keep playing if you want. I don’t mind waiting.”

  “I’m done,” he said, moving to the bleachers to grab his belongings, a white hand towel and small gym bag. “They’re making me look bad!” he shouted loudly as he waved a hand toward his friends.

  One of the men pointed in his direction. “Yo, dude, you play like a girl!”

  “I bet a girl plays better than you,” another chimed in.

  Flipping his hand in their direction, Guy shouted goodbye and grabbed Dahlia’s hand, entwining his fingers between hers.

  Resuming the walk down the promenade, Dahlia completely lost herself in the moment. The weather was picture-perfect with the cool breeze blowing inland off the water and the sun just beginning to drop low in the bright blue sky. She and Guy were chatting easily about everything and about nothing, and for the first time, Dahlia couldn’t imagine herself needing or wanting anything more to sustain her.

  She was just about to say so when a young man with a large camera stepped out in front of them, the flash going off with each image he snapped. Dahlia was only taken by surprise for a brief moment, too used to being accosted by the paparazzi when she least expected it. She felt Guy tighten his grip on her hand.

  “Guy, Dahlia, can I get a picture?” the man asked, seeking permission well after the fact.

  Guy shook his head. “You want a picture?” he asked.

  “Yeah!”

  Dropping his bag, Guy slid his arm around Dahlia’s

  waist and pulled her close against him. Dropping his mouth to hers, he kissed her passionately, drawing the breath from her. In response, Dahlia wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. The young photographer snapped shot after shot, a wide smile blooming across his face. “Thanks! Thanks a lot,” he said eagerly.

  When Guy finally drew back, his own bright smile beaming down at her, Dahlia laughed, knowing that before the next morning’s sunrise, confirmation of their relationship was going to be splashed across every major newspaper and magazine.