Indecent Encounter: The Silverhaus Affair (20 page)

T
he mind-blowing
sex with Chelsea stayed in my mind like a lucky charm the rest of the night. That was the kind of “welcome home” I could live with forever. I held tightly to the memory of her kisses and her body as investors yelled at me over the phone, but numbed by the pleasure of our night together, their heated remarks simply bounced off me.

At first.

My post-sex high cushioned me from taking to heart any of what they had to say at the beginning, but with each hour that passed, and each added phone call, my positive outlook melted away like a snowman in July.

My production team estimated how much time we’d lose to reshoots, even after I'd cut down April's part, and I added up how much firing April would cost the film. It was an unfortunately high amount. Henry called three separate times, threatening, coercing, and bargaining. By the time I emerged from my office, I saw that it was two o’clock in the morning, and I was a fucking mess.

The next morning was no better as my phone started ringing at four, and by eight o’clock, I was using both hands to prop up my head. I stared at the spreadsheet of the film’s budget on my computer screen, still not sure how to save my movie.

“It can’t be that bad.” The sound of a voice tore my eyes away from the computer screen. There was Chelsea, standing at my office door with a mug of coffee and a big smile.

“Well, four of our six major investors pulled out, and we stand to lose two months while we reshoot,” I said, letting my head drop to the desk with a solid thunk. I kept it there until Chelsea set the coffee down. Only then did I sit up and look into her beautiful face.

I reached for her hand and said, “But on a lighter note, it’s always a pleasure to see your smile first thing in the morning.” I pressed my lips to the back of her hand and she looked down at me with a grin that lit up my day. “You must be psychic. I was in desperate need of coffee.” Then I glanced at the computer screen and said, “Or maybe a gun to shoot my brains out. This budget is killing me.”

Chelsea leaned down and gave me a light kiss and whispered, “Don’t tell the boss I just did that.” Then she straightened and turned to the budget showing on the computer screen. “Well let’s see…” She propped a hand on one hip and studied the spreadsheet for a minute. “How about you trim the budget and cut a few corners?”

“I could hack off entire limbs of the project and these two figures would never meet,” I said, pointing to the spreadsheet.

Chelsea plopped down on the corner of the desk and swung her foot back and forth as she thought. She had a thoughtful expression on her face. “What if you condensed the story into one night and shot it in one house?”

I slouched in my chair and took a sip of the strong coffee, hoping it’d clear my brain fog. “What do you mean?”

“A lot of April’s scenes were backstory, right? If you adjust the timeline of the script down to one night, it would cut out the flashbacks completely. Just have the information come out in dialogue, conversation between characters, something like that,” she said.

I thought for a moment. “Mmm, I don’t know. Will the audience get it? I mean, what about character development? How’d that work? I need to show what the character is like.”

“People understand inferences, especially about other people’s baggage. Don’t underestimate your audience,” she said. “You don’t have to beat them over the head with details about a character for them to get it.”

I sat up and took another long sip before I said, “Tell me what you said about the house again?”

Chelsea smiled and stood up. “If the movie takes place in one night the characters don’t even need to leave the house. Maybe it could be like a dinner party or something. It's the relationship that's your story. The rest is just superfluous.”

“If we did that, we could cut back the set budget, the location permits, and all the extra set dressing,” I said, feeling the caffeine hit my blood at the same time her ideas took hold. I sat up straight. “That just might work.”

“Good luck,” she said.

I caught her flat look and felt a wave of guilt. I should’ve paid more attention to her instead of just talking so much business. Especially since she looked especially delectable this morning. Her hair was down today and it moved seductively as she walked to the door.

“Hey, wait. Come back,” I said.

She shook her head and her hair spilled over her shoulder. Was she wearing it down on my account? I hoped so.

“Your hair, you look…beautiful today,” I said.

Chelsea tipped her head and said, “I didn’t come in here to distract you. I just wanted to deliver your coffee. It’s what I do. Don’t feel bad about working.”

She didn't sound angry, but...

“Thanks. It’s just…I mean…last night was wonderful. And before that,” I said, my mouth going dry.
Shit
. This was harder than it should've been. “Do we need to talk?”

“Not right now.” She paused, and then added, “Not unless you think we do?”

I ran a hand through my hair, my head buzzing with half-finished thoughts. I knew Chelsea had concerns about her being my employee, but I looked at her and thought that maybe it didn’t have to be complicated. What we had going seemed to be working fine for us.

“How about later?” I asked. “I mean, it would be nice to spend a little more time with you just to relax.”

She gave me a shy smile and said, “Okay. Maybe a nightcap?”

“It’s a date,” I said.

I felt a wild flight of hope that maybe we could make this work. If we saw each other during our free time, it would be more like a relationship than an affair between employer and employee.

At least, I hoped Chelsea would see it that way.

A
lex’s eyes
lit up and followed me as I entered the dining room with a loaded tray. As I took the sandwiches to the buffet, I realized he was watching me with a silly grin on his face. Just staring, as if he wasn’t even listening to what the production team was saying. They were in the middle of a lunch meeting, and Alex had been in the middle of explaining the changes when he'd suddenly stopped talking so he could watch me carry in this dumb tray of sandwiches.

He snapped his attention back to the group, cleared his throat, and said, “So, in the hopes of saving the production, and further off-screen drama, I fired April Temple.” He held up a hand, palm out as if anticipating moans and groans from the group. “Yes, I know, it has a direct effect on the budget and unfortunately, the majority of investors have left, but I believe we can still create a quality film. One that will be much better for the absence of Ms. Temple.”

I glanced around the table at their faces, expecting to see shock and astonishment, but there was none. Maybe, secretly, they were as relieved as I was to see April go. It was nice to know that there were some men with decent taste out there after all.

From the corner of my eye I saw Alex watching me again as I worked, fetching drinks for the group. It was unnerving, and I couldn’t read his expression. He frowned for a moment, and I quickly flicked my glance away. I didn't want him to think that I was being nosy. As I turned to hand someone a fresh water glass, I reminded myself that this was work. No flirting now. I had to keep a distance.

“Alex,” the director continued. “I think the crew is willing to stay if you have a solid plan.”

Suddenly, Alex’s eyes were beaming at me again, this time blasting a hole in my resolution. He smiled slowly, and there was something in that smile that froze me in my tracks.

Oh, shit.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” he said, and stood. “Thanks to the creative thinking of our newest team member.” Alex turned to me for some reason I didn't understand. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Chelsea Carerra.”

I shot him a horrified look, but forced it into a smile as everyone turned to consider me. I wiped my hands on my apron and gave a weak wave.

“Chelsea is a student here to work for the summer, but she’s also a talented writer. If you look at the synopsis I gave you, you’ll see her ideas for the script will save us enough time and money to keep going, while still maintaining the integrity of the storyline.”

Everyone’s heads swiveled back to the table, and I took a few deep breaths, glad the spotlight wasn’t on me anymore. Alex smiled at me over the long table and it felt like a warm embrace, giving me enough courage to stay where I was and not run out of the room.

He gestured to an empty chair and then sat down. “When you’re done, Chelsea, grab a plate and a seat. We’ve got lots to talk about.” He turned his attention back to the script laying open next to his plate.

When I'd walked into the room, I'd been nothing but another faceless worker, but now I was going to be sitting down with Hollywood big-wigs to discuss a script.

While I was still wearing my uniform.

Awkward, to say the least. Why hadn’t Alex just invited me to the meeting ahead of time and let Jamison handle the lunch duties? Well, it was what it was, and it'd just look worse if I ran out to change my clothes. I grabbed a sandwich and sat down at the table. There wasn't anything wrong with being a hard worker.

“So you’re suggesting we take out all the flashbacks?” the director of photography asked me. “You do realize that film is a visual medium and not everything can be conveyed in dialogue, right?”

Okay, hadn't been expecting a direct question so soon.

“Yes,” I said, swallowing hard, “but I think the essence of the flashbacks, the emotional ties and complications, can be shown through cutaways to the characters. How they look at each other, avoid certain topics, body language, and that sort of thing.”

The two writers nodded in understanding, and Alex said, “If we all agree this structure works, then we can go ahead with the investors we have, and not stretch the budget beyond what’s already working.”

This was a whole new side of Alex, and I was definitely liking it.

Within the hour, he had every possible problem broken into categories and assigned to sections of the team. As we broke into brainstorming groups, I stood and wondered where to go. Just as I was moving toward the writers, the set designer stopped me.

I thought he was going to make a remark about the film so I asked, “What do you think of filming it in one house?” Will that work?”

He simply shrugged and said, “Any chance I could get another ham sandwich? Extra mustard, please.”

I stepped back and nodded, my cheeks flooding with heat as he went back to his conversation. Alex had given me a chance to step out of my maid’s duties and prove that I belonged. But I still had to help Jamison with lunch. It was my responsibility as his employee, and yet I really wanted to enjoy my new status as production team member.

I took a deep breath and told myself it didn’t matter. I’d grab the man’s sandwich and be back after the brainstorming session when they regrouped. I headed toward the door, forcing my chin up and straightening my shoulders. I could do this.

Before I took two steps I heard the director ask Alex, “Who is she exactly?” I slowed my pace, dawdling at the buffet to collect some dirtied glasses so I could hear how he answered.

“My maid, but I’m not going to let that stop us from using good ideas, right?” Alex asked. “What do you think? Will the changes work?”

“Well, yeah but…” The director lingered over the words. “Hey look, I’m not one to judge, but isn’t that the maid you hired as a joke? The one from that website?”

“Why? Does she seem like one of those girls?” Alex asked, clearly avoiding having to answer the question.

I started moving again. I didn’t want to hear the director’s response. Was that how everyone perceived me? As a gold-digger in a maid’s disguise, fawning over Alex and waiting for my chance to jump out of uniform and get into the movie industry?

My heart stumbled as I wondered if Alex had the same thoughts as me. Yes, I wanted to work in movies, and I wanted to write screenplays. The last hour had shown me how much I enjoyed it, but if I continued, would Alex start to wonder if I was using him? Had been using him all along?

He hadn't actually defended me, had referred to me as nothing more than his maid. So maybe he was thinking that already.

I made it out the door and leaned against the wall in the hallway. I felt as if I were barreling down a narrow stretch of road. There was a crossroads coming soon and the chances of me crashing were very high. Nothing about this summer job was going like I'd imagined it would.

“It’s a thin line, isn’t it?” Jamison asked, appearing in the kitchen door.

“Am I that obvious?” I pushed past him and set the tray on the kitchen island.

“Between working with people and working for them,” he said.

I turned and said, “Is it even possible? I mean, you do it, but you’ve been with Alex since he was a kid. You’re family.”

“And what are you?” Jamison asked.

I could feel the fiery blush go to the roots of my hair. I knew there weren't any real secrets between Jamison and Alex. He knew everything that went on in the house, but I wasn’t ready to admit I’d given in to temptation again.

“I don’t know.” I pushed my hand through my hair and bit my lip. “What does he want me to be?”

Jamison shook his head. “That’s not it, Chelsea. You have to be yourself. Even as everything is changing.”

“But what if I don’t want everything to change?” I asked.

He looked at me, his expression kind. “It already has, my dear.”

I
didn’t count
on waking up early since I’d been up most of the night worrying. Jamison was right. Everything had already changed, and all I could do now was decide how to handle it.

I’d managed to fit in with the production team for a little while during the meeting. They'd been happy to have me help with brainstorming, but I could tell they weren’t ready to share their scenes. I needed to make sure they knew I wanted nothing but experience. I wasn’t looking for my name to be listed in the credits of the movie, and I certainly wasn’t looking for money from any of this. I just wanted to know what screenwriting was really like, and that meant I’d also need to find a way to balance my maid duties with the film. After all, I couldn’t let Jamison down.

My worries spun like a tornado in my head as I went to the kitchen to make myself an espresso – extra strong – so I could go to work on Jamison’s list before the sun came up. When it was finally a decent hour, I grabbed another cup of coffee and checked to see if Alex was in his office.

“Good morning?” It was more of a question from the way Alex was slumped over his desk.

“Wow, you’re up early,” he said with a tired smile.

“Double duty,” I said. “Actually, I was wondering if I could run something by you about working with the writers? See, I don’t want them to think I’m looking for money or credit. I just want to learn the ropes, you know?”

Alex was eyeing the mug in my hand and only half-listening. “Coffee?”

“Oh, yes! Here, I brought you some,” I said, rushing over to his desk.

“Slow down.” He laughed and sat up, running his hand over his face. “It’s too early for that much energy. How many gallons have you already had this morning?”

“Sorry,” I said with a sheepish smile as I handed him his coffee. I glanced away, trying to compose myself before looking back.

When I did, I saw that Alex was leaning back in his desk chair, a wide smile warming his eyes, which were now twinkling. Suddenly, he didn’t appear so tired, although his shirt was mostly unbuttoned, as if he’d come down to answer a phone call before he’d finished dressing.

“I’m sorry. I’m interrupting you and you’re busy.” I turned to leave. “I’ll just go.”

Alex caught my wrist and said, “No, I need a break. Plus, I have to tell you how excited everyone is about your ideas.”

“Really?” My eyebrows flew up. “I felt like I was stepping on everyone’s toes yesterday.”

“Not at all,” he said with a dismissive gesture. “Films are always taking on new people and switching roles. They’re used to it.”

“But I’m your maid, and now suddenly I’m working on your film. Doesn’t that bother people?” I remembered how the set designer hadn’t looked very happy in the meeting.

“Well, I don’t give a rat's ass if they’re bothered or not.” He shrugged. “Sorry, I mean, it just doesn’t matter. They’re big boys. They know how this business works. Besides, you have great ideas.”

More than anything I wanted to help Alex. He’d fired April because of me, and I felt like I needed to fix the damage that grand gesture had created. It was my fault. If I weren’t here, things would’ve never gone so haywire. I just didn't want him to feel like he needed to do this because he felt guilty for everything April had put me through.

“Alex, are you sure? I mean, what about April? She talks and stirs up a lot of trouble. Besides, I don’t think I can be both your maid, and work on the film. It wouldn’t look good.”

“Who gives a shit about how it looks? I mean, who cares?” he asked and trailed a finger lightly across the back of my hand. “I’m telling you, the only thing people care about right now is salvaging the film, and your ideas have made that possible. Everyone’s inspired, and it’s all coming together again.”

“That’s great, I guess.” Self-doubt crept up on me. He had to be just trying to reassure me, right?

“You don’t believe me? Here, take a look at these,” he said, and tugged on my hand. He pulled me around the desk to look at the computer screen. “These are all the emails from everyone on the team this morning. They’re really running with your ideas.”

I leaned over, peering at the subject lines.

“See that one? The director has a new shot list. And there’re several more right there about dialogue changes.” He leaned back in his chair. “It’s great. I think the production will be back on its feet in no time.”

“That's wonderful!” I said.

“It sure is,” Alex said, his voice thick.

I glanced back to catch his gaze roving up my legs to the hem of my black skirt. He looked at me and slipped his hand up the trail his dancing eyes had blazed. Tingles of pleasure shot up my legs as he caressed them. The two sensations crashed together at the apex, and a flood of desire washed over me. I'd bent over with my elbows on the desk to better see the screen, and I smiled as I realized how suggestive it must've looked from his vantage point. The look on his face said it all.

I shifted slightly, both taunting him and egging him on. I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t control myself. The nano-second I got near him, the heat between us raged and it was pointless to resist. Now I knew the meaning of the phrase
putty in his hands
, because every time I looked in Alex’s eyes, or breathed in his scent, I became completely submissive to him. He could do whatever he wanted to me. His presence was like a drug, and I just wanted more of him every time we were together.

As my legs shifted, and his hand slid a little higher, his lips parted. His chest, bare between the open buttons, rose and fell faster as I let his fingers explore.

“I don’t want to get between you and your work,” I teased.

“No?” he drawled. “I think you’re doing a pretty good job of distracting me from it right now.” His pulled his hands out from under my skirt and smiled. “And I love it.”

In a flash his strong hands jumped to my hips and he guided me down until I was sitting on his lap facing the computer. He loosened my black hair from the tight bun I was wearing and let it fall over him.

“How about you read the emails while I…uh…work on something else?” His voice was low and heavy with lust.

Heat pooled in my stomach. “Team work?”

I felt his chuckle as he pulled me back against his powerful chest. I could feel the heat of him through my white cotton shirt, and suddenly, I was a hot ball of fire wiggling in his lap. His fingers pulled at my shirt, yanking it out of my waistband, then undoing the buttons one at a time. I shifted, fidgeted in anticipation, and finally, the cool air rushed over me as he opened my shirt wide.

He swept my hair to one side, exposing my neck, and nuzzled his mouth to my ear as I leaned my head back on his shoulder. A puff of air escaped my lips as I felt the warmth of his breath. I closed my eyes and breathed deep, absorbing the sensation of his feathering kisses, alternating with gentle suction and scrapes of his teeth. It was maddening.

With my shirt out of the way, Alex reached around and cupped his hands over the satin and lace of my pink bra. The hot friction made my nipples pucker, and he slid his hands inside to pinch my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. The light, rolling squeeze was enough to send reverberating jolts of pleasure between my legs. I arched my back to push my breasts into his hands, and when the squeezing caresses of those hands pulled me back against him, I could feel his erection, hard as steel against my ass.

I rubbed against the swelling pressure and heard Alex’s breath go ragged in my ear. His hands left my breasts, and swept down my bare stomach, over the waistband of my skirt to circle my knees. His mouth found mine as he teased me with the tickling circles, matching it to the swirling licks of his tongue. Then he pulled my legs gently apart and I opened for him, eager to ease the sticky heat between my thighs. He put his knees inside mine and spread me open wide before he dragged his hands upwards, pushing my skirt to my waist.

One hand returned to my breast as the other slipped down inside my panties and rubbed across my now throbbing clit. I gasped over the waves of pleasure, crying out when he finally slipped a finger deep inside me. His teasing strokes took me higher and higher, my feet pushing against the legs of the chair as I pushed against his probing finger.

“Oh, god, Chelsea,” he groaned.

Suddenly, he lifted me off his lap and leaned me over the desk. I heard him fumble with his pants, then he was leaning over me, kissing my neck, his mouth searching for mine as our hips aligned. Our lips found each other as I reached between my legs to guide his nudging erection, feeling him heavy and throbbing against my wetness. I welcomed his first thrust with a deep moan, breaking our kiss. Alex pressed one hand on top of mine, our fingers intertwining as he started a pounding rhythm. This was no languid love-making. This was fucking, pure and simple.

His other hand cupped my breast, his fingers rolling my taut nipple again and sending shudders of pleasure through the core of me. I braced my legs and pushed back against his hips, matching his rhythm and clenching tighter. I arched my back, taking him further inside, wanting him deeper. He answered by slowing the tempo, but increasing the pressure, building it until I couldn’t breathe for wanting him.

Then, with a roll of his hips and a rough press of his fingers, I came. The release was sudden and so powerful I collapsed on the desk. Alex reared up with a satisfied growl rolling out of his throat, and I felt him explode inside me, cock pulsing against my own still-quivering walls.

Alex fell back into his desk chair, pulling me with him even as he slid out of me. Aftershocks trembled through both of us as he held me close. His lips lingered against mine, and I felt his tongue trace around them. As he tasted me, the kiss deepened, and his hands came to hold my face as he tangled his tongue with mine. Curled onto his lap, I felt his cock jerk again.

“You’re right,” he said with a sigh. “We should stop before the whole morning is gone.”

I flushed. “Sorry, I didn’t…I mean, seriously, I just came in to bring you coffee.”

Alex stopped me with another melting kiss. “Wasn't complaining.”

I finally pulled away and said, “I didn’t mean to confuse my house duties with working on the film.”

“I’d rather think of it as nothing to do with either of those things. Like a coffee break. The hottest, sweetest coffee break I’ve ever had.” He grinned and nuzzled my neck again.

I wished it could be as simple as that. Was it possible to keep everything separate? I came into the room as his employee, bringing him coffee, and here I was in his lap, half-naked bodies still entangled, the inside of my thighs sticky with the evidence of our love-making.

Alex pulled me back into another kiss and all my thoughts went blurry again. All I could do was feel the swirling circles of his tongue, his hands slipping down my back to curve around my rear. He pulled, wanting me to shift, encouraging me to straddle him, to take him inside me again. As always, the temptation of him was too much to resist. and I moved, slipping my legs through the arms of the chair to sit astride him.

His eyes pierced deep into mine. “I can’t get enough of you, Chelsea.”

He wrapped his wide hands around my waist and rocked me against him. My already quivering center melted into waves of pleasure, and I felt him harden beneath my wetness. I clutched at his shirt collar, pulling myself up, and then letting him guide my hips down until he was fully seated inside me.

This time we hardly separated. He stayed deep, and I rocked against him, my already sensitive flesh pulsing around him. We rubbed and throbbed, lost in each other until our bodies crested together. Alex wrapped his arms all the way around me, keeping me locked against him until the last aftershock passed through him, to me, and back again.

Spent and happy, he dropped his head back and laughed. I tried to clear my head enough to stand, but all I could think was how on earth had this happened on a simple coffee break?

My eyes traveled lazily around the room and landed on the clock on the wall.
Oh crap, I’m late
. I should’ve been helping Jamison in the garden by now.

“I have to go,” I said, at a loss for how to switch out of post-coital mode and back into my housemaid role. This was just getting more complicated with each passing day.

The phone rang and Alex swore out loud, just as annoyed at reality interrupting us as I was.

“Fuck.” The word came out with a breath of exasperated air. He didn’t unwrap his arms from me, but I saw him glance at the caller I.D. It was business.

“Go ahead, get it,” I said. “I have to go back to work, too.”

I grabbed at my clothes and pulled myself together as he answered the phone. It was a quick exchange with the set caterer wondering about whether or not to provide April’s specialty orders. A conversation that barely took as long as it did me to clean up.

That was the call he had to take? I buttoned my shirt and willed the burning blush off my cheeks.

He hung up the phone, smiled at me, and said, “When you see Jamison will you tell him I’d like a Waldorf salad for lunch?”

“Yeah, no problem,” I said, finishing up the last of the buttons.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Alex said, “and it’s like a fairytale. It’ll make a great movie, maybe our next project.”

“What are you talking about?” That came out of the blue. “What fairytale?” I asked.

“Us. You know, the maid who’s also a muse,” he said with a wide, satisfied smile.

“You might want to work on your Prince Charming,” I muttered.

“What?” He was already tapping on his computer keyboard and was clearly only half paying attention.

“Nothing,” I said, turning to go.

“Oh, Chelsea? Tell Jamison we should all eat together in the garden. A celebration,” Alex said.

I nodded and restrained myself from slamming the door behind me. The maid and the muse. I balled one hand into a fist. That's all I was, and I had a feeling it's all I would ever be.

When I reached the garden, the look on Jamison’s face didn’t help. It was as if he knew what had just happened, and he probably did. I delivered the messages about lunch feeling lower than the dirt I turned over in the garden beds.