Текст книги "Child Star: Part 2 "
Автор книги: J. J. McAvoy
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Child Star: Part 2
J.J. McAvoy
Copyright
This ebook is licensed to you for your personal enjoyment only.
This ebook may not be sold, shared, or given away.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the writer’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Child Star: Part 2
Copyright © 2015 J.J. McAvoy
ISBN: 9781943772285
Cover Design: J.J. McAvoy
Photo Credit: Georgijevic @ istockphoto.com
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
No part of this work may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without prior permission in writing from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
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“A lot of child actors keep acting for the wrong reasons.”
~Nicholas Hoult
Chapter One
Amelia
“I am standing in front of Tenpoint Bridge, where beloved 15-year-old child star Skylar DeGray, best known for her roles in Red Fame, The Honorable Tennyson, and Forty-One Nights in Persia, was involved in a horrible accident that took her life, along with the life of her manager, Jeremy Lowe, at 4:00 p.m. last night. As you can see behind me, fans of DeGray have already started to leave candles, teddy bears and flowers for the child star, who just last week was awarded was awarded Young Actress of the Year by the Screen Actors Guild. This morning, police officers are still unsure of what caused the accident—”
“That’s enough,” Noah whispered, closing the laptop in front of me. “Get up, Amelia.”
But it wasn’t enough, and I could barely move anymore. My eyes burned so badly from my own tears, yet I still couldn’t stop them from falling. The only proof that I was alive, that this wasn’t some horrid nightmare, was hearing my own heartbeat drumming away in my ears. I was petrified of my own thoughts at this point. I felt as though the world would crumble at my feet the moment I stood.
For sixteen years, I’d given up any sense of freedom for one person—my mother—so that she would be proud.
No matter how disappointed she made me, no matter how badly she pushed me, I still loved her. When other kids were suing their parents or cutting them off, I held on to her. Why? Because she was my mom. She was never perfect; in fact, she was down right selfish, pushy, and sometimes just plain delusional. But I never once thought she didn’t love me. I always told myself that she had so many issues in her own life that it was hard for her to be there for me all the time. That it wasn’t her fault.
I never blamed her, and I should have. I fucking should have.
Why was I like this? Why did I always hold on to people like this? In the end, I was the one left hurt.
“Amelia.” He pressed his hands on my cheeks, forcing me to stare into his blue-green eyes. “Talk to me, please.”
With his thumb, he wiped my tears, even though it was useless. They just kept coming. It felt like someone was tearing out my heart. Of all the secrets I thought he was keeping from me, never in my wildest dreams did I think it would be this. My mother was one thing, but he was another altogether. For years, I’d tried to hate him. I blamed him. Every time he was in the press, I wished he’d hurt just as much as I did. Yet all along, he had been carrying all of this on his shoulders for the both of us.
Amelia London, you are so stupid. You’re such a fucking idiot!
Noah, sensing that I was berating myself, said, “I know you are in pain. Believe me, I understand, more than anyone. I also know that you shouldn’t suffer alone. It only makes it so much worse. So talk to me.”
If he knew that, if he knew I shouldn’t suffer alone, why did he allow himself to?
Because he loved me.
“My mother is a murderer.” I finally said the words aloud. “She murdered my friend. She always forced you away from me. She’s lied to me and used me all of my life. My family is a fake. Everything about me is fake: what I do, what I believe, those around me. It’s all fake. What can I possibly say, Noah?”
“Don’t insult me like that,” he said, frowning, his hands still caressing my face, “because I’m not fake. I’m right here in front of you, being as real as I have ever been in my whole life. How I feel about you—the fact that I love you, the fact that I have always loved you—is not fake, Amelia.”
“I don’t know what to do, Noah.” He had just told me that I was in danger, that his father would hurt me. There was doubt in my mind that if it came down to saving herself or saving me, my mother would always choose herself. I couldn’t bring myself to just forget. Once Pandora’s Box is opened, there is no closing it. “She can’t get away with this. I…we need to tell…” I stammered.
“Amelia, I need you to listen to me,” he said seriously. His lips formed a thin line, and even his shoulders tensed. “We aren’t going to say anything. We did not commit a crime—”
“Not reporting a crime is just as bad as committing one. We were kids. I know we will make it out—”
“Amelia!” he yelled, releasing his hands from me. He backed away, took a deep breath, and shook his head before calmly speaking again. “Amelia, I need you to trust me. I’ve kept my mouth shut for one reason and one reason alone: you. If anything were to happen to you, I…I don’t know what I would do.”
Skylar DeGray was one of my only friends growing up. She was a year younger than me, with a mass of curly brown hair and deep brown eyes. She used to follow me around the set during break. She was like my own little sister. Everyone thought we didn’t get along, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Back then, our managers told us to pretend to fight in public to stay in the headlines. Our fights were huge and always so hilarious to us, because we could not believe how anyone could believe them.
When she died only days after Noah and I broke up, I honestly wanted to kill myself because I felt so alone. I remember sitting on my bathroom floor with only a towel around me and holding my mother’s bottle of Valium. If my sister, Antigone, hadn’t knocked on the door, I don’t know what would have happened.
That was a lie. If Antigone hadn’t knocked, I would have killed myself.
That pain—all of it was my mother’s fault, and she just let me suffer through it.
“She can’t get away with this, Noah,” I said. I wouldn’t let her.
“She won’t. Neither will my father,” he assured me. Sitting beside me, he took my hands into his. “I’m not asking you to let this go. I’m asking you not say anything—not now.”
When I glanced over at him, he squeezed my hand tighter, reassuring me.
“So what do we do now?” I asked.
Noah shrugged. “We do what we’re good at—acting. We go to work, apologize for missing shooting today, and keep going as if nothing happened until we can prove it without destroying ourselves in the process. You’ve worked so hard for so long. There’s no way in hell I’m letting your mother take that away too.”
There he went again, caring only about me as if he didn’t work just as I did, as if he didn’t suffer just as much as I did.
Lifting our hands, I squeezed as tightly as I could.
“Noah,” I said.
“Yeah?”
I smiled and said, “It’s you and me again. We’re back in that tree.” Despite everything, with him, I could always smile.
He kissed the back of my hand. “There is nowhere on earth I would rather be.”
I had no clue what the hell was coming in the future or how we were going to get over this. But what I did know is that I loved and trusted him, and I wasn’t going to let anyone get between us again.
So if he wanted me to act like nothing had happened, then nothing happened.
Noah
I swore I would never tell her the truth. However, coming into my room and seeing her waiting for me, hearing her defend me, seeing her stick beside me no matter what…I couldn’t not tell her.
Maybe it was the alcohol.
Maybe it was because I wanted her to stay.
Either way, the words poured out of me, and once they were out, I couldn’t take them back. But funny enough, I didn’t want to. For the first time in ten years, I felt like I could breathe again, like life wasn’t an endless black hole. But seeing her break down was so heart-wrenching I almost wished I hadn’t said anything…almost.
“Noah,” she whispered in her sleep, pressing herself even closer to me as we lay on my bed. She had fallen asleep sometime after 1:00 a.m., but every once in awhile, she would wake up just slightly to call out my name, like she was checking to see if I was still here.
That was my fault. I had run from her so often that even in her sleep, she didn’t completely trust me to stay.
“Shh…I’m here,” I replied, running my hand through her hair. “I’ll always be right here.”
There was now no reason not be—all because she never gave up on me.
Loyalty. It was both her strong point and her worst fault. When Amelia accepted you, it was hard to for her to let you get away. She’d go to the ends of the earth for the people she cared about. You would think that was good thing, but it was because of that same loyalty that she often got hurt. It’s also why I had to pretend to cheat on her when I was told to break up with her when we were teenagers. She wouldn’t have accepted it any other way.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
“Make it stop,” she groaned, rolling over.
Smirking, I reached for the phone beside me, sitting up slowly.
“What time is it?”
“Five a.m.,” I replied. “Stay in bed. I’ll go—”
“No, it’s fine. If I stay in bed any longer, I won’t be able to get up.” She ran her hands through her hair as she sat up. “Besides, I’d rather be there early to apologize to the director. Yesterday must have been atrocious.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell Oliver to bring over some clothes for you. Go shower,” I replied, and she glanced back at me over her shoulder.
I couldn’t get over how beautiful she looked, even with puffy eyes and a snarled nest of hair on her head. She was still the most stunning woman I had even seen. Turning back completely, I never took my eyes off her as she crawled over the cream silk sheet to me. Cupping my cheek, she kissed me once, softly on the lips, her eyes never leaving mine.
“Don’t tempt me this morning, Amelia, I can’t—”
Her lips covered mine instantly, her tongue slipping into my mouth, rolling over mine, allowing me to explore every corner of her mouth. Reaching up, I grabbed both of her wrists, pushing her away from me and onto her back, pinning her under me. The white shirt she had borrowed from me opened in the middle, allowing me to see her breasts perfectly.
“Well, what are you going to do now?” She bit her lip, and I leaned down until our lips were centimeters apart and grinned.
“Nothing now. But later, on set, I will make you ache for me again. So be patient, sweetheart, and go get ready.”
As I released her wrist, she lay still for a second before sitting up. I could see the lust clear as day in her eyes, and I wanted nothing more than to take her now. But we had too much to do. Without another word, almost dazed, she headed to the bathroom.
“Fuck,” I hissed, glancing down at the hard-on I was sporting through my boxers, which only became worse when I heard the shower start. She was there, only a few feet from me, naked…
Get yourself together!
Rising from the bed, I pulled on a pair of jeans, heading into the living room of our suite—our? I hadn’t even been with her for twenty-four hours yet, and I was saying shit like our now. Dear God, I was hopeless.
“Noah?” The door opened, and in came not only Austin—who was dressed in a bow tie, sweater vest, and white pants—but also Amelia’s manager, Oliver. He was broad-shouldered, with a scruffy black-and-gray beard and an earring in his left ear. His brown eyes glared into me as if I had stolen something from him.
“Where is she?” he demanded.
“If you mean Amelia, she’s taking a shower. She’ll need her things brought over…all of them.”
“I’m bringing her clothes for the day. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“And you’re telling me this as her what exactly? I understand you’ve never liked me, nor have I given you much to like. However, we are together, and that isn’t changing for anyone. I hope we can put our differences aside.”
He shook his head, his fist clenching tightly. “Out of all the people in the world, I don’t understand why she can’t move past you.”
“It’s none of your business, so don’t bother trying to understand,” I replied. “Austin will give you a key so that you can bring her things in—that is, when she talks to you, of course,” I said, taking a seat on the couch and reaching for the new script already waiting for me.
He didn’t say another word but simply slammed the door behind him.
Austin handed me a bottle of water and my pill bottle, but I refused the pills, taking only the water.
“Oliver has been her manager since she was child, Noah. Maybe getting on the wrong side of him isn’t the best way to start off your relationship,” he said.
“Even if I got on my knees and kissed his shoes, that man would still hate me. I don’t blame him. It’s better he understands how serious I am now. Hopefully, in time, he’ll loosen up,” I said. I doubted it, though. I’d seen more than my fair share of possessive managers over the years, and Oliver was no different. To him, Amelia wasn’t just his actress. In his eyes, she’s like his family. His whole life revolved around her, and she listened to him. He wouldn’t like anyone messing up the system he had built with her, let alone me. I really hoped he would get over it, because Amelia did need his help.
“What did you tell the director yesterday?” I asked, flipping the page.
“That a close friend passed away. But I doubt he believed me since I didn’t tell him until three hours after call time. Oliver went with it. They want to redo a few general scenes today, and I believe they may have added some. How did the first sex scene go? Everyone was tight-lipped about it yesterday.”
“Fine,” I replied, focused on the lines in front of me. “These new scenes—they’re more personal. Are they going to be used as flashbacks?”
“Yeah, I believe so.”
Sighing, I closed the script and leaned against the chair. I wanted to go for a smoke, and I don’t know what was stopping me.
“So are you and Amelia just picking up from where you left off ten years ago?” Austin asked, sitting across from me.
“Not possible,” I replied. Those two kids were vastly different from who we are now. “She’s mine. I’m hers. It’s that simple. Truthfully, that’s how it’s always been. Neither of us are fighting anymore.”
It was us against the world now. Picking up the breakfast menu beside me, I was determined to choose whatever would take the least amount of time.
“Well, I’ll be back when you’re both ready,” Austin said, rising.
I waited until he opened the door to leave before calling out to him again. “Austin.”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.” I didn’t need to go further than that, because I’m sure he understood. Amelia was only here because he pointed her in my direction when I was afraid to.
“No thanks are needed. My job is to get you what you want,” he replied, closing the door gently behind him.
I didn’t just want Amelia—I needed her.
Leaning over, I reached for my cigarettes.
“What did I say about women not wanting to kiss ashtrays?”
I turned back to see that she stood in the doorway of the bedroom. The only thing separating her body from my gaze was a fluffy robe. Her long brown hair, now completely wet, stuck to her neck and shoulders.
“You do realize that if I can’t smoke I’m going to need to relax some other way, right?” I asked, getting up from the couch.
“You’re a very smart man, Mr. Sloan. I’m sure we can think of alternatives.”
“Found one,” I said, tugging on the rope keeping her robe closed before sliding the rest of it off her shoulders and watching as it fell to a pool around her feet.
“Ah…” her lips parted when I cupped her breasts, allowing my thumbs to rub her nipples.
Just as I was about to kiss her, there was knock at the door.
I sighed. “That’s most likely Oliver. I told him to bring over all of your things.”
“And he agreed?” Her eyebrow rose in shock.
“Not at all. But you’ll convince him,” I said, bending down to pick up her robe.
“And if I don’t?”
“Sweetheart,” I leaned in, whispering in her ear. “Pick your battles with me carefully. I wouldn’t tell him to move your stuff over here if I didn’t already know you wanted to be here.”
“We haven’t been together for a full day yet, and I’m already under your spell,” she said softly.
“Good.”
Kissing her cheek, I walked around her toward the bathroom, my whole body so hot it felt like I was on fire.
That’s what she did to me.
She wasn’t under my spell. I was under hers.
Chapter Two
Amelia
I’d never met my father. My mother had told me so many different stories; he was an archaeologist she met while filming in Egypt, a famous street artist from the streets of Paris, a British officer who died in combat—the list could go on. Each time she told me a story, I was more focused on whether or not she really met and slept with all these men and less concerned about my father. I never really felt like I didn’t have a dad because of Ollie. For as long as I could remember, he had taken care of me. The reason my mother got me the gifts I actually wanted for my birthday or Christmas was because of Ollie. Whenever I was in trouble, Ollie always got me out of it as gracefully as possible. I never wanted to let him down. However, from the look he was giving me when I opened the door, I knew I had let him down. Big time.
“Morning,” I replied with a smile, mentally preparing myself for what he was going to say.
He inhaled deeply, opened his mouth to speak, but then just handed me a small duffle bag, along with my heels. “I’ll wait out here for you.”
“Ollie—”
“Try to hurry up, please. After yesterday, you can’t afford to be late. You have a busy day today,” he continued, backing away from the door like it was the gates of hell.
“I’ll be right out.” I frowned, closing the door.
Walking back into the bedroom, I stopped for a moment when I heard Noah start to sing “Livin’ on a Prayer” in the shower like he was a rock star. The grin on my face spread so wide my cheeks hurt. He was absolutely horrible, yet I didn’t want him to stop.
“Whoa-oa!” I started to sing along as I dressed in the bright yellow cocktail dress Ollie had brought me, though I wasn’t sure why since I was just going to change once I got on set.
Hearing the door open behind me, I turned to find him stepping out of the bathroom, a wall of steam behind him. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, allowing me to watch as drops of water dripped down his hard abs.
“Were you singing?” he asked as his eyebrow raised and the corners of his lips turned up.
“What? No,” I lied, turning back around to grab my heels.
“Liar,” he said, chuckling. “How was your talk with Oliver?”
“There wasn’t one,” I replied, tying my hair into a bun. “He’s waiting for me, so I’ll see you there.”
He nodded, and I kissed his cheek. I made a move to rush toward the doors when he took hold of my wrist, pulling me back slightly. Lifting my chin, he kissed me deeply, and as I leaned into him, he broke away.
“See you later.”
The butterflies in my stomach made it impossible for me to speak, but I couldn’t stop grinning. I felt sixteen again. Nodding, I spun around, heading to the doors, where Oliver was still waiting in the same exact same spot, scrolling through his smartphone.
“I’m ready.”
“Are you, though?”
“Ollie.”
He shook his head at me, handing me a thick pink script and heading down the hall toward a pair of elevators.
“Ollie, I know you’re pissed—” I started.
“Why, Amelia?” he asked when we got on the elevator. “Of all the men in the world, why on earth would you go back to Noah Sloan? Weeks ago, you couldn’t even say his name without become enraged. You’re better than him, and I shouldn’t even have to say it because he proves it time and time again. The only thing you’ve ever gotten out of being in a relationship with him is pain. He is a mess, and he’ll drag you down with him—”
“I don’t need a lecture, Ollie! Especially when you don’t know what you’re talking about. You have no idea what it’s like to be him, and I’m not a child anymore. Who I do or do not date isn’t your business.”
“It is when it messes with your performance or your own reputation. The Amelia London I know would have never just disappeared for a whole day without even calling or at the very least apologizing.”
I couldn’t get out of the elevator fast enough and didn’t bother to wait for him as I moved toward the doors. Luckily, the excitement had died down since production had started, and no one was on the street anymore. Parked out front, right under the archway of the hotel, was a familiar black Escalade. The driver, dressed in a dark suit, held the door open for me when I stepped out.
“Amelia!” my mother called, waving at me with a bright smile on her face.
It felt like someone had punched me in the gut. All the air in my lungs left my body, and my heart started to pound as I—for a split second—thought of running. This morning, I was able to push her to the corner of my mind, and now here she was.
Oh no. No. Please, no.
“Beloved 15-year-old child star Skylar DeGray … was involved in a horrible accident.” The reporter’s voice haunted the back of my mind.
“Amelia? What’s wrong?”
Nothing happened. Act. Like. Nothing. Happened. It was simple enough, yet my chest burned just looking at her, the woman with the same round face and blue eyes as mine.
She repeated herself. “Ame—”
“Sorry! I’m just having a moment. What are you doing here?” I tried to recover, sliding into the leather seat beside her, noticing she was dressed in a silver floor-length dress and a sunhat. “Don’t you think your outfit is a bit much?” I asked.
“Always dress in an outfit you don’t mind dying in, sweetie. Now, you said you’re having a moment? What happened?”
“Ollie…never mind. So again, what are you doing here?” I leaned back, trying to remember how I usually acted around her. Most times I was annoyed and did my best not to show it. However there were times, as few and far between as they were, where I really thought she was a good mom.
I was wrong.
“Some moms got to drop their kids off at school. I’ve always enjoyed dropping you off at work...”
“Mom—” I tried to cut her off.
“Plus, I really want to talk to your director.”
“Mom, please, no!”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” she said.
I sighed, resting my head against the seat. “That you are a fan of his work, and then you are going to get flirty. You don’t have the best track records with directors. Besides, you told me to smack you if you ever tried to go out on date with another one.”
“I wasn’t being serious.”
“Mom.”
“Fine. Fine.” She threw up her hands in defeat before reaching over and grabbing hold of my hand, and it took all I had not to yank it away from her. “So how are you?” she asked.
Before I could answer, Ollie opened the front door to take his seat.
“Esther,” he said, nodding to her.
“Oh, Oliver, you’re here. Did you clear her schedule for this evening?” She asked him as if I wasn’t even there.
“I’m sorry. What’s happening this evening?” I asked.
“Ray Mallory is throwing his 63rd birthday party this evening, and what better date to bring than my famous daughter, the Amelia London.”
“Mom, I don’t think I can—”
“What? Why?” Turning to Ollie, she said, “Oliver, I thought you said she was free.”
“Sorry ma’am. She might be with her boyfriend tonight.” He frowned as he met my gaze through the mirror. I wanted nothing more than to smack him over the head.
Slowly, she turned to face me with a look of total confusion, “Noah Sloan?”
“Yes.”
A grin spread across her lips. “Amelia, this is perfect. Have him come with you to Ray Mallory’s party. The more people talking, the more exposure. After this movie, you’ll be a household name again.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Ollie clench his tablet so tightly, the veins in his hands strained. Obviously, this wasn’t what he expected my mother to say to me. But he should have known better. As long as I was the biggest star in the sky, she would do or say anything.
“Amelia?” my mother said.
“Huh?” My eyes shifted quickly back to her.
She gave my hand a little squeeze. “Dating is fine, but remember, you are the most important person in the relationship…not Noah.”
“Thanks,” I said, squeezing her hands back as I realized why none of her relationships ever worked. The most important person in a relationship was always the other person.
So you can take your ‘advice’ and shove it, Mother.
***
“And, action!”
Every part of me was waxed.
My hair was curled and makeup done.
My stilettos clicked on the marble floor as I made my way through the lobby of the Van Gooden Hotel. I looked at no one, rolling my briefcase behind me. Stopping at the elevator, I felt the man next to me stand up straighter, and I fought the urge to smirk.
“I thought I told you not to wear that dress?” Damon’s voice spoke firmly in the microphone in my ear.
I glanced back to him in the lobby. He was dressed in a dark navy suit and shiny black shoes, sitting casually in a chair and not even looking at me as he drank his tea.
“After you.” The man beside me allowed me to enter, and I let one of my bracelets to fall off, forcing me to bend down slowly to pick it up.
“Payback will be a bitch, sweetheart,” Damon said in the earpiece.
Ignoring him, I stepped inside the elevator along with the man beside me and the camera guy who kept panning between both of our faces. From the reflection in the glass, I could see that the extra’s eyes were still focused on my ass.
“Which floor?” the man asked, his hands already hovering over the buttons.
“She’s out of your league, my friend,” Damon said even though the man couldn’t hear him, and I couldn’t help but smirk.
I said nothing, pressing the button for the penthouse, proving Damon’s point and shutting him up. It was a small action, but it had to hurt his ego as he pressed the number fourteen instead. The gap between his floor and mine was more than clear. The Van Gooden was one of the most expensive hotels in the city, which meant everyone here operated on one thing—money. It’s how they measured their self-worth. As was clear in the way his shoulders deflated like he had already given up, it was also his way to attract women.
When he stepped out, he paused for a moment, obviously thinking about whether he should say anything. The camera guy turned back to capture his face, while another camera was already waiting on the floor, focused on me.
“Hey—”
“Too slow,” I said as the doors closed on his face.
“What floor did he get off on?” Damon questioned.
“I wish I could see your face. You’re sexy when you’re jealous.”
“I’m always sexy, baby,” he retorted.
“And cocky.”
“Yeah, I’ve got one of those, too.”
Snickering, I shook my head and stood up straighter when the automatic voice announced, “Penthouse Suite.”
The doors opened, revealing two large double doors just a few feet from the elevators.
I checked my phone for the code again. However, when I took a step closer, I realized the door was already open.
“Hello?” I called out when I stepped in. “Wow.”
I had been to the Van Gooden before, but never the penthouse. In front of me was nothing but a narrow floor-to-ceiling window overlooking all of Chicago. The interior of the room was classic, but with a modern edge in tones of silver, white, and navy. A fire roared to the right of me where I left my suitcase and jacket. To my left, there was a large, circular luxury aquarium tank filled with dozens of fishes of all sizes. The aquarium went up the second floor, the staircase wrapping around it. I wasn’t sure where to look: it was like interior design porn. I wandered over to the aquarium, and like a child, I put my hand on the glass as the script suggested. After I tapped the glass once, the fish all swam away from me.
The camera crew and the director were already in the penthouse, silently watching. The fact that the director hadn’t called “cut” already meant that he wasn’t worried about the angles yet, though my spots were marked on the ground.
Hearing a soft cough, I turned back to him. There stood a short man with thick, curly brown hair and thick-rimmed black glasses. His eyes widened as he glanced up the length of my body in the fitted red dress I wore.
“Mr. Gooden?” I asked.
He nodded slowly.
“Is he a mute?” Damon questioned.
Ignoring him, I extended my hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m guessing you’ve never done this before?”
“Ugh…no. No,” he said with assurance. “My friend just turned me on to escorts. I mean, he told me about them, not that he turns me on. I’m not gay. Not that there is anything wrong with being gay. I actually have a gay cousin…” he backpedaled.
“I take it back. How the hell do you make him shut up?” Damon muttered.
“Breathe, Mr. Gooden,” I giggled. “I don’t bite…not unless you want me to, that is.”
“I want you to,” Damon commented again.
Meanwhile, Mr. Gooden just stared at me, both nervous and lustful.
“Would you happen to have any wine? To make us both comfortable?” I asked him.
“Yes, of course. I just had them bring up some of my favorite. White or red?”
“White, please, Daddy,” I said with a smile, and he looked like he was ready to come in his pants.
“You’re trying too hard,” Damon stated.
“Am I? Or are you still jealous?” I muttered when Mr. Gooden headed for the kitchen. While he was gone, I tried to spot anything that would look like camera. He had two obvious ones by the door and at least one in the living room.
“Here you go,” Mr. Gooden said, handing me a glass.
“Thank you,” I replied before taking his hand and leading him over to the couch in front of the massive windows.
Kicking off my shoes, I curled up beside him and held my glass up for a toast.
“To a memorable evening,” I said, then drank the whole thing, watching him from the corner of my eye as he did the same.
