by Ella Brooke
Despite an initial effort to follow the scene, Louis soon grew bored and spent the rest of the time talking to the craft services people and other stray crew members. It was a treat to be able to meet other people and find out what made them tick. Finally, the director called the scene, and Sugar returned from the set looking like she’d been dragged through the street (though her character indeed had).
“We’re going to lunch. You can come with, if you really need to talk.”
Louis sighed. “It would be a pity if I’d made plans, wouldn’t it?”
“You could just leave,” Sugar suggested.
“You know what I need to hear to do that,” Louis replied irritably. Why couldn’t she just officially call things off? Call her parents, refuse the engagement? It couldn’t come from him without causing a huge scandal.
Louis followed them to her trailer and took one of the sandwiches that had been brought there. Sugar did her best to ignore him, which in turn gave Louis plenty of time to watch her chatting flirtatiously with Karre, the stunt woman.
When Karre had gotten up to go get a drink, Louis leaned over to Sugar and whispered, not very quietly, “I have no interest in being your beard, but if I must, I would consider it my favor to you.”
Sugar’s cheeks immediately went scarlet and she trained a sharp scowl on him.
“What are you talking about?” she said in a calm, even tone.
“You’re actually a pretty good actress, but not that good.” Louis wiped his hands. “If you want to work something out, you’ll need to come to me. But a split a few years after our engagement would be considered the fault of no one, if you left for a woman. Just putting that out there.”
Sugar sat there, looking like she had just bitten into a lemon. Louis grinned and gave Karre a cheerful goodbye as he climbed out of the trailer. What a productive day.
Louis stopped off at the fitness center of the Four Seasons before heading back up to his suite. He hadn’t spent much time in his room since he’d checked in, but he had to say it was a very comfortable space, if he’d been so inclined to sit around there relaxing. Louis’s time in L.A. had been dedicated to gathering intel on his reluctant bride-to-be, and if he were honest, having a last hurrah among the city’s nightlife. He’d spent last night at an after-hours party at the Los Angeles Museum drinking some excellent champagne. The night before, he’d followed a group of top chefs in the city as they did a bit of a crawl between their establishments. He didn’t know what he’d do with himself if he could get Sugar to say yes. He’d been hoping this would end with a call from his mother saying Sugar had spoken to her parents and refused the arrangement.
If only he were so lucky.
After an hour on the treadmill, he came back to his room, and as soon as he shut the door, he began stripping off his clothes. They littered the floor in a trail to the bathroom, where he turned on the water as hot as he could stand and stood under it, closing his eyes. He just let the water pelt him for several minutes as his mind went blank, and then, finally, he pushed his hands over his face, clearing the water from his eyes. Ruffling his hair, he turned toward the spray of water, sighed heavily, and stretched his arms over his head.
As he began to soap up, Louis considered, ever-so-briefly, what it would be like to have Sugar and Karre in here with him, but his mind drifted almost immediately to a heart-shaped face and perky breasts. May had pulled him up before and called him out. At first, he’d felt indignant, but that feeling had faded quickly and been replaced by the strangest fondness. He didn’t mind the thought of her teasing or taking aim at his pride. He was tempted to go by Astra’s again, just to watch that little spitfire go.
He must have missed the knock. When he finished with his shower, he stepped out, dried himself a bit, and then walked straight out into the suite. There was the maid, collecting his discarded clothes. She glanced up at him, and then away again, lightning quick, and she raised a hand to cover her eyes. The noise she made was more exasperation than scandal, but either way, Louis felt the need to apologize.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize you were here,” he said.
“You might be an exhibitionist as well as a snob. I know I left you enough towels.”
Louis blinked slowly as he recognized the voice. “Stay here,” he instructed. He did indeed fetch his towel and tuck it around his waist before returning to see May, still facing the wall. “It’s safe now. Not that there’s anything here you haven’t seen before.”
“I don’t know about you, but at the time, I was a little busy to just be staring you in the groin.” May turned around and crossed her arms.
Louis tried to suppress a grin. He was failing. May looked so ridiculously adorable in her uniform. Her long, dark hair was pinned back into a bun on the top of her head, which made her eyes, even without the winged-eyeliner, more prominent and vulnerable. The gray uniform with the white smock was so plain it washed her out, but he still wanted to come up to her and kiss her. It was like she’d gone to a costume party half-dressed.
“Shut up,” she admonished.
“You can’t say that to me. I’m a prince,” he teased.
May rolled her eyes. “Shut up, your highness.”
Louis chuckled. “I thought you were a bartender!”
“I’m a maid, and some nights, I bartend.” May sighed. “It’s L.A., man. Everyone has two or three jobs.”
“I don’t know that much about SoCal, quite honestly. I’ve only come down here twice before, and the second time, I wasn’t much in the mood to get a feel for the area.” Louis strolled over to the minibar and got himself a bottle of water. “Would you like something? Water? Vodka?”
“I’m working.” May glared at him.
“Well, you have guest holding you up. Take a load off.” Louis gestured toward the sofa.
May stayed where she was. “Could you possibly put on some pants?”
“I already put on a towel!” He laughed when she scowled harder and went to the dresser to pull out a pair of soft jersey pants. “Are these good enough? Don’t sigh at me. You’re the one giving the orders, here.”
“Am I? I’m pretty sure you could make one call and get me fired from both my jobs.” May’s shoulders were held so tightly a muscle was jumping in her neck.
“You’re wrong about that, actually.” Louis circled his finger around so she’d turn away again while he pulled the pants on. “Astra made it very clear she’s on her employees’ side. As for your bosses here, I have nothing to complain about. I didn’t put up the Do Not Disturb sign, so it’s my fault you walked in on me. And I enjoyed the nice little chocolates you left me. You’ve been an excellent employee, from my perspective. You can turn around now.”
May did so, slowly. Her brow was still creased, but she seemed less uncomfortable.
“Is this why you were cross with me?” Louis took a long sip of his water and enjoyed the way her eyes moved over him. “Because I didn’t recognize you? You barely look at me when you’re in that outfit. How am I supposed to remember the side of your head?”
“You saw me straight on the first day that you checked in. When you helped me out of the tub?”
Louis hesitated and looked more closely at her. He nodded. “Well, then I am an ass, aren’t I?”
May clicked her tongue. “No.”
“No, I am.” Louis rubbed his hands together and hung his head a little. “But to be fair, I was pretty wrapped up in this family drama of mine. Things with Sugar—Well, that will resolve itself at some point. I do apologize, though.”
“It’s okay.” May smoothed her hands over her uniform. “I should go . . .”
“Will you come back later?” Louis stepped toward her. “Or do I need to risk Astra’s wrath and start hanging out at her club again?”
“I . . .” May twisted her fingers. “Yeah, um, I could come back at the end of my shift. I gotta change first, though.”
“Aw, I think you look cute in your uniform.”
&nb
sp; “You’re really the worst.”
Louis shrugged and closed the distance between them. “I wouldn’t mind being superlative in some regard.”
“Maybe more than one,” May said softly. Her fingers came up and trailed along his exposed abs.
“You make me glad I’ve kept things up at the gym.”
He touched her hair gently. Her eyes lifted, and he met them, feeling warmth blossom in his chest in a way that had nothing to do with her touch. It was just having her near. Just looking into those large, empathetic, hopeful eyes.
His arm slipped around her waist. She was so delicate, yet so strong. He could see that in her. Seconds sped past as neither of them found what they should say. May’s cheeks were burning, and then . . .
She slipped away from him, looked back, and parted her lips hesitantly.
“I’ll come back,” she promised.
Louis sat on the edge of the bed and folded his hands. His heart was pounding. This was getting complicated.
Chapter Six
May
Butterflies seemed to multiply in May’s stomach as she slipped out of her uniform. Louis was so far out of her league socially, and had so much going on. She’d be an idiot to get involved with a guy with so much baggage, both the parts he’d disclosed to her and what he still had to say. And yet, she felt drawn to him. She wanted to see him again, and not through veiled glances across a long hotel hallway. She wanted to sit next to him, to have him pour her a drink. She wanted to feel like more than a diversion from his complicated life.
May pulled on the candy-red top with the spaghetti straps that she’d planned to wear to Astra’s that night. Life was just simpler with fewer costume changes, but now she was wishing she had something a bit more classy to wear up to Louis’s suite. She pulled her hair out of the bun and tousled it a bit. Why couldn’t her hair fall in perfect waves after being pinned back like it did in the movies?
After a bit more fussing, May exited the restroom and headed to the private elevator that led to the presidential suite. Nervousness prickled along her skin and up her spine. She half-expected a staff-member to spot and stop her, but she had her key card that opened every room, and the other guests didn’t notice her any more than Louis had—a fact she was very grateful for at the moment. May had no desire to be another one of Louis’s mystery girls. And definitely not dressed like this.
The elevator opened, and May stepped back into the suite tentatively. A delicious aroma filled the air, and the lights were dimmed. May crossed one arm over herself. Soft music—the thready sound of violins---rose around her.
“Hullo, May,” Louis said as he appeared.
For the first time since May had met him, he wasn’t clad in a fancy suit or nothing at all. Instead, he strolled forward in the same slinky jersey pants as before and a dusky purple V-necked shirt that clung around his biceps and chest. Somehow, dressed down like this, his hair hanging slightly in his rich, brown eyes, Louis was more attractive than ever. Stripped down to his parts, without even trying, he was an impossibly alluring man. His limbs moved fluidly. His smile was effortless. Without the accumulated trappings of his wealth and status, somehow, his natural inner strength and warmth were impossible not to see.
Her nerves fading, May swung her hips a bit as she came up to him. “Hello, prince.”
“You look nice.” He brushed his fingers over her hair lightly.
May shook her head. “I don’t, either. I just got done with an eight-hour shift, and I only got four hours of sleep last night.”
“All the more impressive, then.” Louis touched her chin with a finger and curved his lips to the side. “I ordered us a nice dinner. Come sit with me.”
May let him take her hand, and together, the two of them went over to a small table by the window where two places were laid out with an orchid sitting in a white vase in the middle. Beside it, a room service cart waited with several covered dishes.
“Looks like you ordered us quite the spread.” May bit her lip as he pulled out a chair for her.
“I know how hard you work. It was likely you hadn’t had a chance to eat yet.” Louis took two plates off the cart and looked up at her, his eyes sparkling. “Besides, it gives us an opportunity to sit and talk.”
“That’s really thoughtful, actually.” May scooted in. “What’s on the menu?”
“I didn’t know what you would like. I thought about ordering the caviar with potato blintzes— Don’t make that face!”
“Sorry!” May laughed. “It’s just . . . fish eggs.”
Louis shook his head. “They’re quite good. I suppose you eat chicken eggs without so much squeamishness?”
“I’m allergic,” May deadpanned.
“Oh.”
“No, I’m kidding. And I know it’s super-hypocritical. Otherwise, I’m really into seafood.” May leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table as she blushed. “I’ll try caviar sometime if you really want me to. Just don’t try to get me to eat snails.”
Louis chuckled. “I’m actually with you on that one. I don’t tend to eat escargot, at least with the French preparation. I think there are better delivery systems for butter and garlic.”
May laughed. “Agreed. Like bread.”
“Ah, so I should have gone with Italian food.”
“Italian, Mexican, Filipino . . .”
“Good to know, my dear. Maybe I’ll have you try Moroccan sometime. Minus the snails.”
May leaned her chin on her hand. “So what’s for dinner?”
Louis uncovered the plates. “A choice of filet mignon or grilled salmon.”
“Ohhh.” May looked over the two dishes. She had never ordered from the kitchen before, although the sous chef, Franz, grilled her a cheese sandwich from time to time between shifts. “They both look great.”
“The choice is yours, as always.”
May winked broadly, and after a moment of consideration, took the filet mignon.
“She does have good taste,” Louis teased. He poured them both a dark red wine. “So tell me about yourself, May. You told Sugar you were a creator. How are you finding L.A. for helping your dreams?”
“L.A. is difficult for everyone. If I’m honest, I expected it to be this hard, but I hadn’t planned to be here so soon. I came out here after my little brother ghosted on me.” May paused and held up a hand. “He’s not supposed to leave the state—long story—and he came out here, and I came after him. Anyway. He got back home before he got into trouble. I know a bounty hunter, and she tracked him down for me.”
“Where’s home?”
“Austin, Texas.”
“And you know bounty hunters?” Louis cut off a bit of salmon, paired it with the roasted Brussels sprouts, and took a bite. “You live an interesting life.”
“I know one bounty hunter. She’s a friend of a friend, and I had to pay her.” May smiled and took a sip of her wine. It was a red, but not a bold one. It was light on her tongue and went down smoothly. Louis had been very careful in his choices, hedging his bets on what she might or might not like.
“So your brother got you out here. You stayed to make movies?”
“I’m giving it a shot.”
“You don’t think you can do it?” Louis asked with surprise. “You seem like a clever, diligent woman to me. I’m sure you can find your way here.”
“It’s hard to get into directing or writing, especially for a woman.” May cut into her filet as she haltingly chose her words. “I mean, you heard about how the woman behind one of last summer’s blockbuster romcoms left the franchise because they wouldn’t pay her as much as her male co-writer, right? Not even a tenth as much. If you can’t make the same when your movie is the highest-grossing romcom in a decade, which even beat out a bunch of other genres on opening weekend . . .” May shrugged. “It is what it is, man. You just do the work and fight the fight, and hope you eventually get there.”
“Well, that’s disappointing. In Europe, I hear a lot about ho
w much Americans value everyone for what they can do, not for who they are.”
“I mean, that’s what we’re striving for. Nothing’s perfect in practice. Especially Hollywood.” May touched the bit of filet to the mushroom sauce. “Individuals always try, though. It’s not that people are inherently bad. In the case I mentioned, the co-writer offered to just give her a portion of his fee. He tried to make it right, but sometimes you can’t get the people up top not to shoot themselves in the foot.”
Their dinner continued with lighter conversation and the best food that May had eaten since she’d been back home being served by her grandma. Louis pressed her less about her family specifically and just let her expound on her ideas about directing and how best to coax a performance out of an actor without crossing ethical lines. They talked about her time in film school, and her web series projects with her friends, and that time she’d created a promotional spot for a local charity organization to get one of their events enough attention. And eventually, she found herself talking about her strictly conservative family, how they weren’t particularly thrilled with the work she did, and how they had hoped she’d be married by twenty-five. As a consequence, she and Alice had dressed in black on her birthday a month ago and draped her apartment in black and grim reaper themes for her party.
Louis suggested that since she liked fish, she try a bite of the salmon with the sauce, and then offered it to her, so likewise, she fed him a bit of the filet mignon. He leaned forward and smirked as he took the bite off the end of her fork. He made an obscene noise and sat back in his seat, rolling his eyes back.
