The Director (Hollywood Nights) (6 page)

BOOK: The Director (Hollywood Nights)
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She nodded. “I was excited to see I
got a few lines in the second of the series.”

           
“They like you over there. It’s a
good thing. If this doesn’t work out with Sleepers, in a few years I know a
director who will be free and willing to work with you. He has to finish up
these movies with Jonas, but he has already told me he wouldn’t mind working
with you again,” Alex said as his phone began to buzz. He looked down at it and
said, “Okay, kid. I gotta go. My Aunt is pissed at me for missing a wedding.”

“It’s that time of year,” Shay
commiserated.

He nodded, “I’ll send you the
details on the meeting time and place. Work on your lines. This is a good
choice of outfit. Wear it there. You’re doing good, Shay.”

           
It was the small compliments that meant
a lot to her. Alex didn’t pull any punches. He couldn’t fire her. She was his
project. He had to make her a star if he wanted to take over the family
business. The Harvey Agency was the crème de la crème of talent agencies. They
represented some of the highest earning actors in Hollywood. Harvey had not
taken on a new client in years.

           
Then he found her, and he saved her.
She was his last project he told her. He needed to believe Alex could do more
than manage those already established. He needed to know the Harvey legacy
would carry on when it was his son’s turn to run the show. What better way than
to take a nobody wanting to be a somebody and make her a star? Alex had been
ruthless. He had created a 12-Step program not unlike the ones used in
addiction rehabilitation. He said a lot of famous people become addicted to a
variety of things.

Shay wasn’t famous, but she was
addicted to a considerable amount of things. Among the ones she discovered was
self-hatred and self-destruction. Those were the hardest two to accept, but
once she did, they were the easiest to work on and overcome. The hardest to
overcome was the addiction to shopping. Things had become her drug of choice, high
priced fashion labels to be specific. She had blown through most of her
inheritance trying to look like she was already successful rather than figuring
out how to be successful.

Shay finished her tea and picked
up the script. The rehearsing should help her keep the lingering thoughts of a
certain already famous person out of her head.

 

***

           

As the days passed and the auditions were over, Shay found herself
disappointed that Jed Gunner had lied. He said he wasn’t giving up easily, yet
she hadn’t heard from him. It was her first exercise in controlling the impulse
to make herself feel better in the absence of acceptance. She didn’t shop.
Instead, she organized everything she had ever bought into sections and
categories in the main bedroom of her modest home. It took almost a week to
complete the task.

The next day…

 

           
Shay was returning from a jog when
she noticed the car. She slowed as she approached her building and the man
sitting on the stairs leading to her front door. She was torn between anger and
excitement. She was mad at him because this was the first time she had seen him
since he dropped her off at the break of dawn and said he wasn’t giving up. He never
called her.

           
She came to a stop in front of him
and he stood. Jed Gunner was six foot some odd inches tall with wide shoulders,
a muscular but not bulky chest, long lean legs, and stunning blue eyes that
made her heart melt just looking at them. He had two cups of coffee in a
carrier in his left hand. He said, “I couldn’t wait any longer.”

           
“Wait for what?” She started
stretching as though he were not there. Her body ached from the run, but it was
aching in all new places at the sight of him. It was unreal the effect he had
on her.

           
“I was hoping to catch you going in
or coming out of work. I have been waiting morning and night, but you never
showed up. Yesterday, Jonas came back to work so I had a real reason to be
there. I realized a little too late that they were just starting the second
film…”

           
“I’m not there for another week or
so.” She looked at him. She believed him. He was blushing under all that hair.
“I’m not sure how I feel about this.”

           
“About what?” he frowned.

           
“About being stalked by a
celebrity.” She smiled. She had missed him. Insane as it felt, she did actually
miss him.

           
“If it is any consolation, I’m
apparently not very good at it. I remembered that you wanted to keep it a
secret and realized too late everyone I knew to get the number from was someone
you wouldn’t want to know why I needed it. I drove by here a few times, but I
didn’t want you to get freaked out, so I never stopped. I didn’t want to keep stalking
you here, and thought you would be less likely to say no if people were around.”
He held up the coffee and said, “Can I ask you in for coffee?”

           
“Can you ask me in to my own house?”
She bit her lower lip and tried not to get too excited. She was flattered he
had been through all the trouble of trying to see her while still trying to
keep her secret.

           
“Well,” he said. “By the time we got
back to my place it would be cold. I think it’s lukewarm at best. I’ve been
sitting here for almost an hour.”

           
She reached behind her and fished
the key out of the zipper pocket on the back of the running shorts. “Well, I do
enjoy lukewarm coffee.”

           
She moved towards the door and he
let her past him but not before reaching out to touch her hip with his free
hand and saying, “You look extremely unappealing to me in that outfit. I can
barely stand the sight of your abs.”

           
She laughed. The touch sizzled
through her in that dark, dangerous, yet sweet way he had. “I do aim to
repulse.”

           
He heaved a heavy sigh. Lust was as
clear an emotion as any on the man’s face. She heard him whisper as she opened
the door. “I’m repulsed, trust me.”

           
The moment the door clicked and she
turned the lock the air in her townhouse had changed. She turned to find him
staring at her. The coffee had been placed on the table near the door where she
now dropped the key.

           
She was covered in sweat. She was
sure he couldn’t be thinking what he was thinking, but the moment he stepped
forward she knew he didn’t care how sweaty she was. He pulled her up against
him as he leaned down to kiss her. She met his lips with eager anticipation. He
was everything she remembered him to be. In two short steps she was pressed
against the wall and lifted to better align their bodies.

           
“I need a shower,” she said between
breathless kisses.

           
He ignored her and rocked his hips
into her letting her know he didn’t care if she was a hot, sweaty mess, he
wanted her.

           
The slide of his tongue against
hers, the feel of his facial hair tickling her flesh, the press of his hips,
and the grip of his hands let her know they wouldn’t make it to the kitchen ten
paces away, much less the bathroom for a shower.

           
She slid her hands down and began
unfastening his belt and then his jeans. Her hand reached in and found the hard
length of his erection impossibly smooth to the touch. He was steel draped in the
smoothest, softest velvet. Her body ached for him and everything she knew he
would do to her. He sought her heat beneath the loose leg of the running shorts
and pressed two fingers into her.

           
They touched each other like that
for torturously long moments until he adjusted their bodies once more. Holding
the material of her shorts tightly pulled to one side he nudged the head of his
cock against her entry.

           
“Fuck,” he growled more than said.
“I need you to get the condom out of my wallet.”

           
She reached for it, her weight
shifted and the head penetrated. He slid farther into her with a desperate moan
of relief. She gulped. It was so good that way, but he wanted the condom so she
was getting it for him.

           
She pulled the condom out, tore the
wrapper and then sighed as he pulled out of her. She made quick work of
slipping it on. He made another quick adjustment and slid into her with a lusty
groan.

           
His mouth met hers and he began
fucking her like that, against the wall in her home, still clothed.
Desperately, passionately, they moved in awkward and rough motions until he
came. He pushed hard into her and held tight. His lips pressed to hers pinning
her to the wall with every bit of his body he could. She could not remember
feeling so possessed by someone. Jed didn’t just fuck her, like a savage, he
claimed her.

           
By infinitesimal increments he
slowly let her go until they stood there facing each other, breathless,
bewildered. He blinked a few times and then said with a sheepish grin, “I
really just wanted to have coffee with you. But you were in those horrible
shorts and I kinda…lost control.”

           
She laughed and leaned into his kiss
as he wrapped her into his arms. They should not be so comfortable with each
other, she thought. They didn’t know one another well enough for this, but it
was undeniable that when it came to sexual chemistry they were explosive.

           
“I think I can handle that shower
now.” He circled his nose around hers and then placed a gentle kiss on her
lips.

 

***

           

           
Jed was officially losing his mind.
He had spent the past week fighting with himself and the situation. He tried to
convince himself that he was just a little lonely and that is why he was going
so crazy. He smoked more on days he was trying to give up the idea of her and
less on days he thought she wouldn’t approve of him smoking. He was mad at
himself for even worrying about what she did or did not approve of.

He tried to go out with a girl
Janice had set him up with. He felt like he was cheating on Shay the entire
time. It was weird. He didn’t love her, he could not possibly love someone he
did not know, but he was obsessed with her. Infatuated beyond reasonable
control and instead of throwing lukewarm coffee in his face, she had let him
inside.

           
His intentions to talk to her went
out the window, and the next thing he knew he had her pinned against a wall.
Now, he followed her up the stairs of the modest home to her bedroom and the
bathroom located there. He looked around the room. He suspected the couple
hanging on the wall was her father’s parents. He decided she had several of her
grandmother’s features. The woman looked familiar to him, but he didn’t know
why. He was then distracted by the abundance of items placed in an organized fashion
in a room too small to properly hold them.

           
The bed was covered with handbags
and shoes. They seemed to be set up in what he imagined was a pattern for
mixing and matching easily. Nothing cheap about anything she owned. He wasn’t
sure how much extras made these days, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t enough
to cover the cost of all this.

           
“Where do you sleep?” he couldn’t
help but ask.

           
“In what I suppose could be
considered the guest room. It has a twin bed. It used to be my bedroom when I
visited so I’m used to it. It’s just easier for me to keep my closet close to
the bathroom lately.” She untied the running shoes and then tugged them off
followed by her socks. He looked around the place again as she finished, and he
started to undress. She noticed him looking and said, “It’s weird right? I know
it is, but I won’t get rid of it since I haven’t worn half of it, and can’t
afford a bigger place. This one was left to me by my grandma. I just pay taxes
and utilities. I own it.”

           
He looked without really looking at
the labels on some of the items as he placed his clothes over the arm of a
chair that was already home to an assortment of name brand sunglasses and
wondered how she didn’t see how much money she had spent on these things. He
didn’t say anything. He was treading on thin ice as it was and he wanted to
eventually know why her bedroom looked like an extravagant display of excess,
rather than a place she would sleep.

           
“This is a good neighborhood.” He
could comment on that.

           
“Yeah,” she agreed. “There are lots
of old people around. Some used to be in the business.”

“Were your grandparents actors?”

“No,” she said and shook her
head. “My grandmother was a costume designer. She made custom clothes for some
people. Talented woman, smart with money. I wish I were more like her and less
like her son.”

He noticed she referred to her
father as ‘her son’ not ‘dad’.

She continued, “I spend time with
a few of them, but I try to keep my distance since the lady next door passed. I
keep losing people, you know?”

           
She sounded so sad. He moved into
the bathroom as she turned on the shower. He watched her step in and soon
followed. She lathered up her hair and tilted her head back to let the water
rinse it clean. This shower was ridiculously small compared to the one at the
beach house, and his condo in New York. It was still nice compared to the shower
in the military where it came from a portable bag or a make-shift shower in the
desert that he didn’t see for a week or more at a time. He was afraid to get completely
naked over there because he was more afraid of dying that way than anything
else. He kept thinking it would be Karma for trying to exit early in his youth.

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