Authors: Stella Whitelaw
“When’s the meeting going to start, anyway?” asked Benny. “I’m ready.”
“So am I,” Olga agreed, adjusting the shawl over her tall, spare frame after setting the cat down.
Randi pulled up a high-backed Spanish chair, and the others turned their attention to the writer. Where was Dion? Did the ill-mannered actor think he could make his appearance whenever he felt like it, even if it meant everyone else had to wait for him? That had been his attitude when they worked on a feature film together three years ago, Randi the assistant director, Dion a rising star. Would the actor’s current status as a film idol make him even more demanding and impossible? She shuddered when she thought about asking him to redo a scene again and again.
Randi put Dion out of her mind as Olga began the meeting.
“The reason I wanted to meet with all of you—”
But a scuffling noise muffled her words. All heads turned toward the source. As the drawing room’s double-story central doors opened, their mirrored surfaces multiplied Dion Hayden’s golden image; three Dions smiled at the crowd. His sensuous lips, high cheekbones and dark golden hair set over a perfect body combined for a blatant display of masculine beauty. He looked the part of the “golden god”—the title Hollywood had given him— his lines so perfect, he could be a statue.
All he needs is a pedestal, Randi thought with disgust. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Dion said apologetically, his tone nonchalant. Running his eyes over his audience, he noisily pulled up a chair across from Randi and gazed at her intently.
Purposefully she turned her face away from him and back to Olga.
“I wanted to talk to you, the crew and actors of
Chrysalis,
personally before the shoot began.” Olga’s strong, unwavering voice drew the group’s attention back to her. “This miniseries will be based on one of my best-selling books, as were the movies
Beyond Eden
and
Faster Than the Queen of Light.
Unlike those films, however,
Chrysalis
will be the first adaptation to be subject to my creative control as well as the producers’.”
Randi felt Dion’s blue eyes boring into her as Olga spoke, but she tried to avoid giving him the satisfaction of knowing she noticed. She’d have to maintain control over him or the shoot could turn into a disaster. She still remembered how Dion had almost made her lose her job the last time she’d worked with him. Because of an argument with the arrogant young actor, she’d missed an important meeting, causing her to make a costly scheduling mistake. He was bad news, there was no doubt about it.
“There will be no gratuitous battle scenes or fantastic weaponry added to this project,” Olga continued. “I believe human experience can be an inner as well as an outer adventure, that our understanding of our own powers and emotions is more important than our invention of machinery.”
Randi glanced toward Dion in spite of herself and found the young actor engrossed in Olga’s speech. Maybe he’d learned to listen. Three years ago she’d prepped him for a fight scene in the western
Wrangler,
and he’d broken the jaw of another actor because he’d forgotten to pull his punch. More than once his childish tantrums had caused a lengthy shooting delay. He’d always been short on talent and long on ego. Could she hope for more now?
“These beliefs underlie the theme of
Chrysalis,
in which two contrasting cultures, one with developed psychic abilities and the other with incredible scientific technology, albeit useless on an unknown planet, are united through the love of a man and a woman.” Olga paused, her black eyes flicking over the assemblage.
“I have the network’s agreement on final say and have approved the script and casting. With everyone’s cooperation, I think we can complete a successful production that will remain true to my book’s original ideas. There is certainly enough talent in this room to make
Chrysalis
unique and outstanding!”
“I, for one, am looking forward to working on it!” exclaimed Dion. “I’ve read your book several times.”
“And I’ve seen your performances several times.” Olga smiled at him.
She sounded like a fan of Dion Hayden’s! Randi still wondered why Olga had forced Dion on her, knowing how Randi felt. Her godmother couldn’t have forgotten the confidences Randi had shared with her concerning the actor. When questioned, Olga had insisted that Dion was perfect for the part and, since Randi was a professional, she was sure her godchild could deal with the situation.
“Now I’ll turn the rest of this meeting over to your very talented director, Randi St. Martin,” Olga announced.
Starting slightly, Randi managed to say, “I’d like to take this opportunity to have each of the department heads tell you how his or her work is coming along. Why don’t we start with costume design.”
As the head designer reported to the gathering, Randi found her mind wandering and her eyes straying directly to Dion. His profile to her, his finely chiseled features formed a golden mask. Amazing how his smooth tan looked like it contained particles of the precious metal.
As if he knew she was studying him, Dion turned directly toward her. Startled, her eyes met his brilliant gaze, which enmeshed her in blue depths as alluring as Mediterranean waters. Dion’s faultless lips split into a slow grin. Warmth spreading throughout her body, Randi quickly looked away.
And so it went. Those in charge of various phases of production reported on each department’s progress as Randi introduced them one by one. She made suggestions several times but tried to keep the meeting moving. While Randi was able to keep track of the proceedings on one level, on another she grew more and more aware of Dion. She resented this unwanted intrusion into her thoughts. As the director, she had to stay on top of everything that went on in this meeting.
“It sounds like the special effects are coming along well,” Randi finally concluded. “If any of you would like to come to the studio to see the spaceship models before you go on location, you’re certainly welcome to do so. Now that’s it for business. Thank you all for coming. Olga?”
“Please feel free to stay for drinks,” Olga said. “And if there’s anything else I can do for you, let me know.”
“How about a tour of this fabulous place?” Nora said enthusiastically. “That way we could all be more in touch with your personal reality, if you know what. I mean.”
Graciously Olga consented, suggesting they start with the grounds. The room quickly cleared, everyone following her and Raoul outside. Having been intimately acquainted with Olga’s private domain since she was a child, Randi opted to finish her glass of wine on the balcony.
Looking out into the garden’s lantern-lit depths, she reviewed the evening. Things had gone well in spite of her distraction. Feedback had been good, and she thought plans for the miniseries were shaping up. What a feeling of accomplishment she would have when the project was finished! Randi was determined it would be the foundation block of a great film career.
She listened to the gentle swish of leaves in the breeze and the sound of wind chimes. His step was so quiet, she barely heard him. Turning quickly to view the intruder, she was startled to see Dion.
“Why didn’t you go on the tour?” she asked. It made her uneasy to be alone with him.
Dion lounged casually against a blue column. “I’ve already seen everything. I took my own tour earlier. Besides,” he said, leaning toward her, his voice intimate and silky, “I’d rather see you. It’s been a long time, Ariadne.”
At the use of her proper name, she drew back. “Not long enough.”
“You’re bitter,” he stated.
“I don’t hold anything against you.”
“How about starting over, then? I’ve changed, you know.”
Flood Tide
Stella Whitelaw
Is he the man of her dreams…or her darkest nightmares?
Ever since the death of her father, Reah Lawrence has been haunted by nightmares of a terrifying mystery man. When she meets Ewart Morgan, a successful playwright, she knows he is the man in her dreams. Despite her distrust, Reah is drawn to him, and they soon embark on a whirlwind romance.
Putting her ominous dreams aside for the time being, Reah and Ewart explore the magical city of Florence, Italy, as well as each other. But all fantasies must come to an end, and when they return to stormy Sussex, Reah at last learns the truth behind her dark dreams.
This Retro Romance reprint was originally published by Robert Hale, Ltd. in 1986.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
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Flood Tide
Copyright © 2012 by Stella Whitelaw
ISBN: 978-1-61921-035-6
Edited by Heather Osborn
Cover by Valerie Tibbs
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Original Publication by Robert Hale, Ltd.: 1986
First
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
electronic publication: December 2012