Dazed (14 page)

I lean back slightly and sensations sweep through my body everywhere.

“Fuck,” he groans.

And in unison, the two of us become one and small ripples of pleasure race through me over and over, one after the other in continuous waves.

For the rest of the night, we didn’t say we loved each other again . . . we didn’t have to. We took the time to learn each other’s body. What we liked, where we liked it. I let go and let him in—and he showed me how.

Chapter 8

Everything Changes

Jagger had promised to get me to work on time, but I took the morning off anyway. I had tons of personal hours saved up that I hadn’t used in years. He dropped me off at my house with plenty of time for me to shower and get to work by noon.

The sight of two huge white envelopes, at least six inches thick, sitting on my desk greets me the moment I walk in my office. I approach it with curiosity.

Kay looks at me. “I hope that’s not your severance package,” she jokes.

I raised a brow. “At least it would be a big one.”

Laughing, she taps her pencil on her desk. “Well, what is it?” she asks.

Pride rushes through me as I see Warner Bros. stamped across the thick packages.

“It must be the script changes for my uncle’s movie,” I beam.

She purses her lips. “What movie? I didn’t know your uncle made movies.”

I sit down and roll my chair to open the side drawer. “He doesn’t. My uncle was a musician and Warner Bros. is making a movie about his life.”

“Don’t tell me your uncle is Ian Daniels,” she remarks in shock.

Slitting the envelopes open with the letter opener, I pull the contents out of the first one. “None other.”

She stares at me, seemingly unable to speak.

“What?” I ask, glancing down at the two-page memorandum from the director addressed to me.

“My sister is doing her first screen test today for the role of Madeline in that movie.”

“In the movie,
No Led Zeppelin
?” I ask.

“Yes.” She beams.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” she answers.

My eyes scan the words before me.

Ms. Daniels,

As you know screenplays are instruments that transform words on a page and bring stories to life. They should snap, crackle, and pop from page one. And although I find your uncle’s life fascinating, I believe the integral element of romance is needed to make this movie all it can be. I want to grab the audience’s attention from page 1, from the very first scene. And when it ends, I want to leave the audience grieving with the most profound emotional impact I possibly can.

So with that being said, attached are the changes I’ve made to the script. The biographers stumbled across your uncle’s on again off again romance and I have taken a few liberties to expand upon it. The romance your uncle shared with Madeline Grayson through the years and even up until the two years before his death is inspiring . . .

My heart sinks and I lift my eyes from the paper. Madeline Grayson? That’s Levi’s mother. I had no idea my uncle ever dated her. She was married to Levi’s father for years. But they divorced that last summer I spent at the beach with my uncle. The summer before Levi broke my heart and I couldn’t bring myself to go back until it was too late. Until my uncle was dying.

I glance over at Kay. “When did you say your sister was doing the screen test?”

“She got a call about an hour ago and was told to be there at two.”

“Who’s your sister?” I ask as I try to glance at the script changes that will take days to go through.

“Jules Atwood. We’re half-sisters, actually.”

The name rings in my head, but I can’t place it. I know I’ve heard of her.

“Aerie?” she asks.

I look up. “I’m sorry. What?”

“My sister. Do you think she’d be good for the role of your uncle’s girlfriend?”

I click my computer keyboard and Google
Jules Atwood
. “I’m not really sure, to be honest with you.”

My mouth drops as I stare at the face of the woman I saw in the elevator that morning. The one with the raspberry leather jacket, the one with the haunting face, the one Jagger spoke to by his car, and—Kay’s sister. Zooming in on one of the pictures on the screen, she’s dressed in a long tight skirt, showing off her narrow hips and tall, slender figure—and that’s all she’s wearing. She’s topless with her hair in front of her breasts and her heavy-looking earrings sparkle in the reflection of the water she’s standing in. She’s absolutely stunning and the thought of her cast against Jagger makes my stomach turn.

I quickly close the computer window and take a deep calming breath. “Excuse me a minute.” I grab my phone and head out to the lobby. Dialing my attorney, he comes on the line and reminds me that I declined my rights to review script changes. He says we can fight them but they’d probably win. However, it would tie up production for a long time and maybe long enough that the execs would just shelve the project.

I hold back my tears as I sit down and lean against the cool glass. Why did I never know my uncle had an affair with his neighbor? She was at all his summer parties with her husband. Did he have a love affair with a married woman? But I loved him, and who he loved would never have made a difference to me—married woman or not, I wouldn’t have cared. But I would have liked to have known—to have seen him happy with her. I would have liked someone who loved him to talk to about him once he was gone.

Colored vases adorn the shiny granite topped reception area and soft music beats through the speakers. It’s quiet in the lobby and I stay out here for a long while with my head in my hands, just trying to think about nothing.

“Aerie, there you are,” Kay says, rushing my way. “My friend over at the Warner Bros. lot told me to come by on the pretense of an interview for the first issue of
Sound Entertainment Magazine
and I could grab a peak at the casting table. Come with me. I want you to meet my sister,” she implores.

I’m reluctant, but my curiosity wins out. “Sure, I’ll come. Let me just check in with Shelly and make sure the layouts I gave her on Friday have been accepted.”

***

“Judging by the nine-story-high billboards, I guess they tape Conan there.” Kay snorts as she pulls up to the Warner Bros. gate.

The guard directs her to a large parking structure across the street. I’m pretty sure if I had called Brett, we would have given me a drive-on. When she parks her Mercedes SLS, I notice we are the only car in this lot with California plates.

We cross the street and go through an airport-like security check where we have to show our IDs. Once we walk onto the lot, it’s clear we’re in Hollywood. Each soundstage has a sign indicating what movies are being filmed in them.

“We’re looking for Soundstage 5. My friend told me to look for
Casablanca
on the plaque.” Kay’s New York accent is more prominent than Jagger’s and it’s hard to miss the more excited she gets.

The building is a charming old structure with a tile roof. We pull open the door and there are two more doors to follow. We turn to the right where we can hear voices and stop in the open doorway. Peeking in the room, I make out Styrofoam lunch containers littering the surrounding area and a number of people sitting around a table. Cameramen are spread throughout the space and they move around cues I don’t understand.

“They’re doing a read through with my sister,” Kay gushes.

My eyes are drawn to the raspberry leather jacket, but cut to the blue quilted vest on the guy sitting beside her. I didn’t even know he was going to be here—did he? Chewing my thumbnail, I try to hear what they’re discussing.

“What are they doing?” I ask Kay.

“A read-through of sorts. No blocking though. My friend told me this morning that they’re going to take a number of couple pair ups and team them in different scenes to see who they want to invite back.”

Whoever her friend is, she’s well informed. The air blower overhead dies down and I can hear much better now.

Jagger as Ian: Look, for the last time I don’t give a fuck what you do anymore. I’m done.

Jules as Madeline: Don’t say that. I told you I’m going to leave him. Just give me some time.

His accent is completely gone. He has the part down. He even says “fuck” the way I told him my uncle used to say it. I remember my uncle saying it so clearly. It always sounded more like fck, than fuck. My parents never swore and my uncle stayed on his best behavior around them. But he’d slip every now and then around me. I never swore—I went to an all-girls school where the nuns would have crucified us if we said “heck.” I still don’t.

“Considering the baggage between them, I have to say their chemistry is amazing.”

My head snaps toward Kay. “What do you mean ‘baggage’?”

“They dated for almost two years and then one day he just broke up with her and moved away.”

My heart seems to fail, my breathing stalls, and my mind wanders. I can’t see Jagger’s expression, but I really wish I could. Between the lines being recited and the thought of him with another woman—the gorgeous girl who has turned out to be his old girlfriend—everything around me fades away. Flashes of that morning in the rain come to mind. He saw her and never told me anything about it. He spoke to her. What else has he been doing with her? Red creeps up my face and spreads like fire through my body.

Jules as Madeline: I love you. Don’t say that.

Jagger as Ian: Madeline, I love you. You know that, but this is over.

His first words ring in my ears. The same three words he said to me yesterday, and it doesn’t seem like he’s acting. Oh my God, I really am the rebound girl.

“I wonder if she’ll pull a Carey Mulligan.”

All I can do is stare at her. The lump in my throat grows larger as I try to hold back my tears.

“Carey Mulligan as Daisy. They say she got that coveted role in
The Great Gatsby
because during her audition she just up and kissed Leonardo.”

My hand flies to my mouth. “Oh God.” My voice comes out almost unrecognizable to myself.

“Aerie, what’s the matter? I thought you’d be excited to see your uncle’s movie in the works. Who knows, those two,” she points to the table where raspberry jacket and blue vest are turned to us, “just might be the stars of
No Led Zeppelin
.”

“You know what, we should get back. Lunch is long over and we have work to do,” I say in a no-nonsense tone.

“I just want to see if they kiss.”

I can’t watch anymore. I don’t want to listen. I’m not even able to breathe. This morning’s revelations have been too much for me. I just found out that my uncle had a secret relationship that is being sensationalized for a movie, and now I find out Jagger and his ex-girlfriend are auditioning for those parts. “I’ll wait outside. I’m not sure we should be in here.”

Opening the door to the beautiful blue sky, I can finally breathe normally. Avon Street, the water tower, all the familiar landmarks are here, but I suddenly feel so incredibly lost. Sitting on the curb, I put my head between my legs and can’t stop the memory from pushing itself forward.

I was sixteen. Levi James was seventeen. I’d spent every summer with him for as long as I could remember—he lived next door to my uncle. His father was the co-host for
Entertainment Today
and was never home. His mother came from old money; she kept her maiden name, and occupied herself with charity work. We all spent a lot of time together. But the summer before, Levi had a girlfriend, and I didn’t care for her so I avoided him.

That last summer I was there, he had just broken up with her and I saw him in a way I never had. He seemed taller, more filled out. And when we spent time together, we both flirted, we gawked at each other—seeing him both thrilled me and terrified me.

He asked me to a concert, just the two of us. It was nothing unusual; we’d done things together many times. But this time he wanted to pick me up—it was a real date. My parents would have forbidden it, but Uncle Ian always said yes to anything I asked.

Levi and I shared a passion for music and that brought us closer. His band had just cut their first demo. That night he let me listen to it. He even gave me a copy of it before he leaned in to kiss me. He was my first kiss and I was on top of the world.

The next day Levi asked if I’d listened to his CD again. I told him I had. I told him I’d even let my uncle listen. He liked that. I told him my uncle was impressed. He liked that, too. Over the next week, we’d sneak out and our kissing turned into full-blown make out sessions. I even let him put his hands on my breasts and eventually inside my bathing suit top. Before I knew it, his hands wandered inside my pants. He would whisper words to me I hadn’t ever heard or used—
make me horny, hot pussy, suckable tits.
I have to admit—I liked it.

Then one night his parents were out and we skipped the movie we told my uncle we were going to. I hadn’t touched him ever, but that night he begged me to. I didn’t know how and I didn’t want to tell him that. We were on his couch watching MTV and our cuddling had turned into him groping me. For the first time, I let him take my clothes off. When he pressed my hand against the hardness sticking out of his shorts, it scared me. But then he guided my hand the way he wanted me to move it and my fears eased. When he told me how good it felt, I kept doing it.

Then he took his jeans off. It was dark and I couldn’t see him. We were both naked under a blanket and his fingers entered me. I wasn’t sure I liked it. He moved them and I wasn’t sure what to do. He was breathing hard and telling me how much he loved me. And when he asked me if I loved him, I nodded. I guessed I did. Then he asked me if I trusted him. I said I did. Before I knew it he was supporting himself with his left arm, kissing me softly, and his right hand was down at my pussy with his cock in it. He guided himself in without asking, but I’d have let him if he had. I liked the sounds he was making and knew my virginity would have to be taken eventually anyway. His thrusts felt awkward. The whole thing hurt and was uncomfortable. But I lay there and let him move in and out of me for what seemed like forever. He didn’t say a word. I wished he would reassure me. He didn’t wear a condom and I wasn’t on birth control—thank God I didn’t get pregnant.