Chapter 6
Two days pass with enough silence to last me for the rest of my miserable life.
Sunlight blinds me on the way out to the car. I shove my hand toward the dash, grappling for my sunglasses, shoving them onto my face painfully, although it does shit to block the light.
I’d forgotten my goddamn coffee somehow, and instead of peeling out of the driveway and finding a place, I went back inside the house like a fucking fool. I should stop at a cafe. With an angry groan, I shove the key in the ignition, and the engine roars to life.
Any extra time spent in her company is another opportunity for me to be an asshole and take advantage, the way I had the other day. She’d had no choice, and I’d bitten her like an animal in heat.
I’ve got to get out of this house, even if it’s a temporary escape to my downtown office.
Being here has become my own personal torture chamber, knowing Empire is right across the hall sleeping in her bed. Or not sleeping, like me.
I slide into the driver’s seat with the leather warming my ass. It’s still early in the day, but already, the sun is glaring; it’s gonna be a hot one. An even better reason for me to leave and stay gone; heat equals Empire in skimpy bathing suits in the pool. If she leaves her room—
I blast the AC, press my foot on the gas, and get the hell out of dodge. The woman tempts me in ways I should not be tempted. The need for distance eclipses my worry for her. Today is going to be an office day from start to finish, and I refuse to head home early, no matter what happens.
Not without a severe emergency.
Navigating the hills, I take the curves way too fast until the road evens out and I join the hoard of others trying to get to their destination on time.
Most of them probably left their houses hours earlier to make sure to beat the clock.
I’m just too pissed off to wait in traffic.
Today, I’ve got to focus on the rest of my work and not a certain young starlet with no acting credits to her name. Except the first face I see, already waiting for me in my office, is the producer who wants to hire her for Wretched. Parker Heath turns in the black leather chair and grins at me over the back. The coffee turns sour in my stomach.
He’s got the kind of smirk designed to get under your skin. Curly hair swoops away from his large forehead in a widow’s peak. The dominant trait is only further emphasized by his square jaw and vulgar white teeth from thousands of dollars of bleaching.
“Marcus Ortega, it’s damn good to see you,” he starts out.
“You saw me three days ago,” I say through gritted teeth. Not as white as his, nor as prominent.
“A brief glance of your beautiful mug and nothing but.” His retort is flippant, and it bothers me more than his face.
Not one I missed, I thought to myself, watching him get comfortable, leaning back in the chair and crossing one leg to rest his ankle over the opposite knee. I hadn’t liked him when we were boys, either, but circumstances throw people together against their will.
I hadn’t had a choice about dealing with him then.
And if I want to keep cushy, if I want Empire to succeed, then I have no choice but to deal with him now.
“What are you doing here?”
It’s an effort not to curse him out, but here, it’s professionalism all the way, even if Parker knows me well. He planned this and will get away with it because he is one of the most well-known producers in the biz. Anyone looking at the situation from the outside would see me as the rude one and not him.
“I’m here to talk about Empire,” he continues smoothly.
I grumble under my breath. “I can’t get away for a fucking second, I swear to God.”
“Who did you think I wanted to talk about? You?” He barks out a laugh. “Get real. She’s the one I want, and a personal visit of this nature only shows you how badly.” He cranes forward, shifting, his elbows on his thighs. “Marcus—”
“At least let me sit down.”
“Seems to me you’ve got a lot on your mind.” He sounds downright chipper, as much as a seasoned and bitter bastard like Parker can. “Just tell me if she wants to do the movie, and I’ll be on my way to let you do whatever it is you do all day.” He glances around the office, clearly dissatisfied with what he sees.
I drop my store-bought coffee on the desk and drop hard into the swivel seat.
“I’m telling you what, Ortega. This is going to be her big break, if she decides to say yes,” he continues without waiting for me to answer. “I feel it in my bones. This movie is huge. The potential, the writing, the dialogue…” He trails off.
Parker isn’t the type who likes to hear the word no, and he makes it his business to never let anyone speak it around him. If he wants this movie to happen, then it will, point blank. He won’t care how it happens or who he has to stomp on the way to get it finished. Whatever it takes.
“I’m not sure if she’s willing to take the part or not.” It’s the only bit of honesty I’ll offer him today, especially considering the impromptu drop in. “She’s expressed a few hesitations about the sexuality of the part.”
I don’t like to be fucking surprised, and Parker knows it. He wants something from me, though, and he’s willing to do whatever it takes to grab it.
He stares at me wide eyed before his face breaks out in a wide grin. “What do you mean, you’re not sure if she’ll take it? How can you not be sure?” he asks.
“I mean she is taking time to consider it all the angles before she makes a decision.” My gaze hardens the longer I look at him. “Trust me when I tell you that you’ll have an answer by the end of the week.”
I’ll get it even if I have to drag it out of her.
Parker laces his hands in the air in front of his chin. “You know how important this movie is to me,” he says slowly.
I bob my head in acknowledgement. My lips straighten into a thin line.
“I want Empire Stone. There is no other Alicia for Wretched. You understand.”
“I know where you’re coming from, yes.” I keep my answers short and clipped, and the two of us stare each other down, rabid dogs with Empire as the bone between us.
I want her to take the part too, but Parker doesn’t need to know that.
“You’re a ruthless fuck, Marcus,” he replies at last. “You and I both know where you’ve come from, and Empire is your only client right now. I understand better than anyone how much you want to help her get her career going. Really going.” His knuckles tighten, go white. “It’s a career any girl dreams of, and this picture is going to get her there.”
“Stop trying to convince me. I get it.” I grind my back teeth.
“You’re the only one who is going to help change her mind. I’ve got to have her.”
“Duly noted,” I barked out. “Now, if you have nothing more to say, Heath, get the fuck out of my office and let me actually do my job in peace.”
Parker smiles, shaking his head ruefully as though amused. There is nothing warm about those blue eyes of his. “Fancy offices and thousand-dollar suits are not going to erase the boy you used to be. I know your old ties. This movie…is what I want. If you get the girl on board, then everyone will be happy and stay healthy.”
I shift my weight at the thinly veiled threat, soft enough for anyone eavesdropping to skip right over it. I need my life to stay the same, exactly where I am. It’s where I’ve always wanted to be.
When I started my career with Empire’s parents, I knew I’d hitched myself to the right horse. Escaped my past, gotten to every milestone of my childhood dreams. I’m not going back, never fucking again.
“I don’t like to be threatened.” There is no need to say it out loud, yet I do regardless.
Parker understands it, and the slight twitch at the corner of his lips tells me he’s well aware of how deeply he’s dug under my skin.
“I’ll take care of things.” I assure him stringently. “Now, if there is nothing else I can help you with, Parker, I know you’re a busy man.” I tap my fingers on the desk before leaning back, purposely nonchalant. “Don’t you have a massage scheduled or something?”
He stares at me for a moment longer.
Finally, he shifts out of the chair and stretches. His arms reach overhead and strain the lines of his suit jacket. “That”s all I’m asking,” he says with a sharp salute as a final ‘fuck you’. “Keep in touch, Marcus. I expect an answer by the end of the week.”
“I bet you do, you prick.” I grimace into a semblance of a smile and watch him walk out. He whistles at my middle-aged secretary, his hands in the pocket of his jacket.
Cocky bastard.
He always has been, too, the kind of man who knows what he wants because he thinks he’s entitled to the world. Newsflash: I have just as much to lose if Empire refuses to take this part.
She’s my ticket, and she has no other avenues left to her if she turns it down. She hasn’t booked a part in her life. Her status comes from her parent’s careers and her own social media influencer status.
The rest of the day passes startlingly fast until the sun starts sinking and dulling the streets with shadows. There’s no more putting this off. Time to get my ass back to the house, even though I’m mostly sure that Empire hasn’t moved from her room. If she makes it to the living room, I’ll be surprised.
Fuck, how am I going to convince her to take the part?
It’s going to take a bit of finagling. She’s the type who will dig her heels in if she thinks it will spite me, and it will spite me. She’ll turn down the part even if she actually does want it. Deep down, she might be scared of it, but she wants it.
It’s made for her.
Not the Empire she probably convinces herself she sees in the mirror, but the real one.
I thrust my arm out the window, the breeze ruffling the dark hairs of my forearm and the tattoos muted by age along my muscles.
I’ll figure something out. There’s no choice, is there? Eat or be eaten. That’s the world I’ve chosen, and at least this one comes with a fucking nice bank account.
I get home to find Empire snuggled on the couch, reading the script out loud.
“What is it you really want from me, Mr. Patterson? Hmm? Tell me. I’m a big girl, I can take it.” Her voice filters down the hallway, amplified by the construction, and I pause a few feet outside the room.
It’s dull, flat. Lifeless.
Not at all the performance I heard her give at casting.
“What do you think I want with you?” She reads it in a deeper tenor to mark her scene partner’s dialogue. And then, in her normal voice, “I think you want to fuck me. I think you want to fuck me right here on this couch. You don’t actually want my help with the house. You know why I came here today, Mr. Patterson. You know what I want.”
Shit. What happened? Between then and now, what changed inside her? Is it the part about her being a virgin?
I scoff but can’t make myself walk forward to interrupt her. Not yet.
Her hair has dried from another shower, thank God, the curls around her face sweet. Her face is heart shaped, her chin sharp but her eyes sharper when she’s not bogged down with the weight of grief. Her eyes are expressive, baring her soul in a way she thinks she hides, but she never can. Not from me.
“Let me help you.” I blurt it out and startle her.
Empire clutches the script to her chest to hide her reaction, but I see it. I know every hitch of her lungs. She bites down on the inside of her cheek before saying, “How long have you been spying on me?”
I drop my briefcase and shrug out of my suit jacket, dropping it over the arm of the couch. “Long enough to hear your abysmal performance.” Parker would change his mind in a second if he heard today’s dialogue.
“Because I’m not feeling the part. Not anymore.” Even her insistence falls flat. “I thought it was me, but it’s not, Marcus.”
“I think if you stop trying to put yourself in a little box, you’ll find you’re more than capable.” If she sees how much this means to me, she might dig in her heels. I’m not willing to take the chance.
Her eyes lift to mine when I stand in front of her. “My capability isn’t really the question, is it?” she asks.
“Run it again and let me see what you’ve got.”
She groans, her head dropping down to the back of the couch. “Look, I’m tired. Let’s order in for dinner and have it delivered. Please.”
I shake my head even as my stomach rumbles.
“We’ll eat after I hear you do this scene,” I reply.
“Why are you such a slave driver?” She glares at me.
“Because it’s my job.” I slide my hands into my pockets. This close, I can see every inch of her pale skin, every freckle and fine golden hair along her forearms. It’s the perfect vantage point if I lift my gaze a little higher to the neckline of her tank top. I refuse to do it. “I guarantee you haven’t had as long a day as I have. Run the scene again and I’ll give you pointers.”
She pauses for a brief second. “I’m never going to be my mother,” she tells me in a whisper. “No matter how much you want me to be.”
“And I’m not asking you to be. Quit stalling.” I swallow over the lump in my throat. “Read the scene again and start from the beginning.”
Empire sighs, stares at me, and finally gets to her feet, unfolding those long legs and balancing on her toes for a second while she stretches and prepares. She stands beside me with the script in one hand, the other shaking loose at her side.
“You weren’t expecting me,” she says in a saucy yet innocent tone.
It takes me a beat to realize I’m supposed to be the very old and very wealthy Mr. Patterson in this scene, and I shift to look at the script Empire holds out for me. “You certainly did take me by surprise. How can I help you, Alicia?”
“Do you mind if I come in?”
“Not at all. My apologies…” I trail off and read the notes out loud. “He steps to the side to allow her entry into the home. Leading her into the living room.” Empire and I don’t move. “May I offer you something to drink?” I continue.
“Whatever you have handy is fine. This is a nice place. I’ve never been inside before.”
She’s paying attention to the script, not to me, and the longer we bounce lines off each other, the more she staples into the role, losing her hesitancy. Alicia takes the offered drink from Mr. Patterson and settles herself on the sofa, her legs seductively wide. Drawing him in. Patting the cushion beside her until the old man sits.
Alicia moves closer.
Mr. Patterson shifts an inch away.
A cat and mouse game until Alicia has had enough and flings herself at him. I’m focused entirely on her words to the point where she shoves me on the couch.
I bounce against the cushions. Her prop. Her set piece. I’m prepared to let her finish out the scene doing whatever she wants until Empire climbs on my lap and I stiffen. Her legs are on either side of my hips, her core dangerously close to my cock.
“What is it you really want from me, Mr. Patterson?” she asks. Her hips roll closer to mine with the script still balanced in her right hand as her left hand rests on my shoulder. “Hmm? Tell me. I’m a big girl. I can take it.”
I automatically cradle her on my lap, swallowing again. This time, the knot in my throat is bigger, and my cock jumps.
I’m too shocked and too turned on to do anything except read the lines when Empire shakes the script in my face. “What do you think I want from you?” I ask, sounding strangled.
She shifts closer, her breath fanning my chin. “I think you want to fuck me.”
Goddamn it, the words shoot right down to my cock, and it hardens against her unmistakably. Empire’s eyes widen, and we both wait a beat, me to see what she’ll do or say, and her—she licks her lips.