Chapter 19
Istay silent on the floor of the guest room until my breathing is back under control and feeling returns to my lower half. I still have Marcus’ cum on my face and some in my hair. The area between my legs throbs, and I still feel the push of his dick inside my mouth, at the back of my throat.
I’m not sure what just happened, but I’m reeling.
He pushed me to the edge…to prove a point?
To remind me of this game between us and how I can’t win?
Slowly, I push myself up, glancing around for my shorts and finding them halfway toward the opposite wall. I’m only about a foot away from the closet. What an asshole. A giant, bonafide asshole—
And I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.
I crawl over to grab my shorts and tug them up over my legs, my underwear a few inches away. Tucking the thong into my pocket, I head down the hallway on shaky legs and down to my bathroom, head lifted proudly. But Marcus isn’t around to see me.
No doubt he’s already sequestered himself away so he doesn’t have to look at me again.
For the longest time, I stare at the hallway leading away from the living room toward Dad’s old office. Nothing but silence greets me.
Four days go by where we dance around each other in the house, but this time, I know better than to push him again. Maybe it’s not a game I can win. And with filming due to start within the week, there are other things for me to do than worry about outsmarting him. Or trying to win.
The real win would be to master the script. To do well, to gain recognition, and then throw it in his face by never taking another role again.
The script for Wretched isn’t going to learn itself, it’s true. And since Alicia is the title character, there are totally too many lines for me to learn by winging it. I’m doing it for me and for no other reason. Not to make Marcus happy, because fuck him.
I want to.
Every time I sit down with the script, I skip over the scene he wanted to run. I’m still too raw to focus on it without remembering his mouth on me. The way he teased me and coaxed me to the edge and then held me there without mercy. How hot Marcus looked with his fingers inside me and his mouth a firm line.
Nothing takes the edge off anymore.
Not the lust, not the anger. None of it. He’s made a horny monster out of me, and it wasn’t for any scene. I know it no matter how he tries to spin the situation. Not that he’ll look at me anymore. He prefers to keep his distance, and in the space he used to fill, I learn my lines.
I study, and I practice in front of the mirror to get better.
I even did a Facetime call with River yesterday to run a few of the lines past her and see what she thought. Her round of applause and compliments were heartfelt, although they didn’t make me feel any better.
I’m still an imposter.
I’m an imposter who would rather be anywhere else than holed up in front of a mirror running lines, doing her best not to think about the last person to read opposite her.
Not to mention how my stomach flips whenever I think about having to deal with the producer again. If Parker Heath said anything about me to Marcus after the opening, word hasn’t reached me. I’ll have to see him soon enough.
Which is even more of an incentive to get through this film. I’ll never have to see Parker again, and he’ll be nothing but a blur in my rearview mirror. I’ve been on two table reads with the rest of the cast, one right after the other, and it’s going pretty decently so far if I ignore the way he leers at me.
Yesterday’s reading went pretty well, and I found myself laughing with several of the other younger women who will play Alicia’s friend group. Even the older actor slated to play Mr. Patterson is a nice guy. Greg Bates has been in a handful of high-profile roles before and came across as a consummate professional.
Only, I’m out of my depth. That much is painfully clear.
I rub a hand along my arm, the chocolate brown top soft against my skin. As per my contract, I won’t have to spend the entire day on set filming with the others. Marcus negotiated things beautifully for me, but damn if I’ll thank him again. Who knows what it will devolve into with the two of us?
I don’t want to think about it.
“Empire.” Parker sits at the head of the table and beckons me forward with a crooked finger and a small, sly smile.
The empty doorway is further and further out of my reach, just like any breathing room from his oppressive presence. When I turn back to face him, I’m grinning, and the grin remains in place when I make my way to the table again.
“What’s the matter, Mr. Heath?” I ask.
“Filming officially starts on Monday but I thought it would be a good idea for you to get a head start on things.” His expression turns indulgent as he steeples his fingers together in front of him. “Since it’s your first role, and your manager has expressed some concerns over the highly sexualized nature of your part.”
“I’m not following you.” I feel like an even bigger fool because of it.
“I’m doing this for you. An unofficial start to filming to make you more comfortable. Think of it like dipping your toe into the pool rather than having to dive into the deep end in front of everyone.” His eyes warm as his gaze skims down to my chest and back up, meeting my eyes. “It will only be myself and the regular behind the scenes folk, although I’ve cut it down to the bare minimum.”
He expects me to be grateful. He probably expects me on my knees, and judging from the look in his eyes, my assumption isn’t far off.
“Thank you,” I manage to get out. “What time do you need me here?”
“I think eight will do just fine.” He waves his hand to shoo me away, already calling for his assistant.
A special day of filming just for me. Should I jump for joy? Should I…tell Marcus about it?
More than likely, he already knows, I think on my way out to the car.
Dusk has already fallen, and the sky is bathed in violet and gold and peach. My brows furrow down.
Not speaking to him makes it a little harder to feel grateful.
Instead, I set the alarm and get to the studio set by seven thirty the following morning.
The security guards wave me through the front gate, and I toss a smile at both of them. Already known. Already expected. I park beside the door and shoulder my purse, heading inside the eerily quiet soundstage already equipped to look like the inside of Patterson’s mansion.
We took a brief tour yesterday, but seeing it come to life in the silence of only my own breath is startling. The furnishings are well done, tasteful, sumptuous, the sort a wealthy older gentleman would carefully curate.
I trail my hand along the edge of a velour loveseat the color of old blood.
Marcus is too busy ignoring me to even realize I left the house, which is fine by me. It’s not like I need him here for this anyway. It’s just a prep before we start shooting, and I’m not in the mood to play anymore games with him.
“There you are.” Parker strides forward with his arms held out to his sides in greeting. Even inside in the dim lighting, he’s got on a pair of aviator sunglasses with the mirrored lenses reflecting my pale face back to me. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
“I made sure to get here earlier than expected.” I chew on my lower lip before I catch myself and purposely smooth out my face.
“Quite professional,” he replies indulgently. “We’re just happy to see you.”
My co-star Greg stands beside Parker in a brightly colored Hawaiian shirt with images of Stitch hidden inside the print. Greg smiles at me, about as far from lecherous old man as one can get, but I watched him transform at the reading yesterday. He’s about the same age as Marcus and not nearly as handsome.
I can’t help noticing the lines around his eyes, the gray speckling his goatee and around his temples. The print of his shirt adds some levity to the situation, but I can’t bring myself to laugh.
It’s all a part of the gig.
I keep my smile in place and barely react when Greg goes in for a hug. “It’s all going to be fine,” he says beside my ear. “No reason for you to look worried!”
“Do I look worried?” I ask.
“Your shoulders are as tense as boulders, Empire. Relax! It’s just going to be you and me out there today,” he adds. “Parker is going to take good care of us.”
I don’t want him to touch me. I don’t want to imagine having to kiss him or, even worse, his head between my legs the way Marcus had done the other day. I look at Greg, and I see a kind uncle, the same one who would sneak you candy after dinner when your parents said no.
The kind of uncle my mom always thought Marcus would be, except I never looked at him and thought it. I looked at him and thought of completely different things, things a grown woman should think rather than a teenage girl with lofty fantasies.
“Relax,” Greg repeats, kneading at the knot in my shoulder for a second before he releases me.
Entirely unprofessional, but when I look at him, there is nothing. That’s what acting is for.
It’s life, the path, the only way forward for me, whether I like it or not. At least for today.
“It’s just going to be the three of us today?” I want to know. “You weren’t kidding when you said it’s going to be a smaller crowd.” My stomach still flips, though. There might be a skeleton crew working, but there are still plenty of people around operating the cameras, the mics, the booms.
“Today we’re going to start out with the seduction scene, the first between our two title characters. I thought it would be the perfect one for you, Empire.” Parker slowly claps his hands together once, twice, three times as I struggle to get myself under control.
“Wait, what?” My eyes bulge at his comment. “I didn”t know you wanted to start with such a racy scene.” That’s not dipping my toe in the water at all, not by a long shot.
“Why would I not?” Parker studies his watch.
“You…you said filming today would help me feel more comfortable with the process…” I trail off.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you understood we’d be starting to film one of the intimate scenes. This is for your benefit, as I stated yesterday.” He says it as though I hadn’t paid any attention to him. “I figured you would be more comfortable shooting if the rest of the cast and crew weren’t present.”
Well, shit. There’s no way out of it now. I should have put the pieces together, and I’d been too distracted to think about it.
I swallow over a lump in the back of my throat and try to come to terms with what I’d have to do. It didn’t work. “Ah, sure. Yeah. Thank you. I understand.”
“Great.” Parker’s smile is cold. “Then get into hair and makeup and we’ll get started. Make sure you refamiliarize yourself with the scene. You know the one I’m talking about.”
Sadly, I do.
“It’s going to be great,” Greg says in a soft voice, his usual tone, but his eyes are sympathetic. I wonder if it’s an act, or if he really does empathize with me right now. “I promise it’s all going to be okay. There’s no need to worry.”
He understands my situation, and I appreciate the lengths everyone went to for me, but—my head spins. The rest of me feels a little too cold for comfort. One of the assistants steps up and gestures for me to follow her, away from the soundstage toward a separate smaller room set up with a row of mirrors and hot lights overhead.
I’ve sat in enough makeup chairs to know the drill, but this one is more uncomfortable than the others. Because this time, I’m alone, and the person going in front of the camera is me. Not my mother. Never her again.
The transformation is gradual, from the ends of my hair to my collarbone until my face is transformed. There’s a dark line of contour beneath my cheekbones, highlighter on the arches of my brows. Soon, the face in the mirror is me but stronger, sharper.
“There’s no reason to be nervous,” the stylist tells me as she curls soft waves around my face. She fluffs the strands, checking her work in the mirror reflection. Waiting for my reaction before she continues. “Greg is really a softie. He might have to get into part for the character, but he’s a great guy, and the rest of the crew will take good care of you too. I’m sure Parker has an intimacy coordinator there.”
I start at the word. “A what?”
“You know, an intimacy coordinator. Someone on set to make sure that nothing funny happens but the scene still looks real. I’m sure you’ve—oh, no, I guess not.”
She looks distinctly embarrassed, and I almost shoot up from the chair.
“Like I said, there’s no reason for you to worry, honey.” She’s an older woman with black dyed hair and a fan of wrinkles out from around her eyes. She might be trying to soothe my nerves, but there is no way in hell they’ll loosen up anytime soon.
Not until this project is done and I’ve gotten away from Parker, who gives me the willies.
Everyone has told me the same thing. Why don’t I believe them? The pit in the base of my stomach yawns wider than ever.
“Does the producer have to be on set to watch?” I ask as she puts the finishing touches on my hair.
“Sometimes. It’s all at his discretion. Now, up you go! You’re ready. And so beautiful. They wouldn”t have brought you into a project of this magnitude if you couldn’t handle it, sweetie!”
Both her and the makeup artist had done a great job of taking me from regular Empire Stone to a character of myself. Someone with more street smarts. Someone in more control of her mind and her body, who knows how to use both, whereas Empire Stone flounders along, making a mess of things wherever she goes.
I tug the silk belt tighter around my waist and make sure the edges of the robe are closed. Someone will have to point me toward wardrobe so I can get changed.
I walk along toward the set where the rest of the crew are waiting. Parker is once again the first to spot me and gestures me over without speaking this time. Every step is heavy, the low lights, the intimacy of the set, the way Greg is also fresh out of hair and makeup and has been transformed into the older Mr. Patterson. His hair is streaked through with more silver than before and the lines around his eyes are darker, deeper.
“Empire, head toward the X. You’ll see it marked with tape on the floor there.” Parker points me in the right direction once I”m in earshot. “And take off your clothes.”
“Excuse me?” I blurt out.
“Strip. Out in the middle of the set.”
I glance over his shoulder at the others, the camera people, the boom operators, all watching. Everyone watching. “Ah, I thought I was going to head to wardrobe.”
“For an intimate scene? Empire, please.” Parker breaks off on a laugh. “Take off the robe and stand in place, please.”
“I don’t want to do that.” I shake my head and go still on the X. From the corner of my eye, I see Greg pursing his lips in confusion. His head tilts to the side. He’s clothed, at least. He’s got on relaxed pants, a shirt, and a full jacket.
Parker’s expression darkens. “Miss Stone, I’m afraid you’re confused. This is the scene we’re running today, and I’ve purposely kept the cast and crew small for you. Now, please strip, and we can get on with it. You’re wasting everyone’s time, and as we all understand, time is money.”
I shake my head, my legs trembling to the point where I clench my toes. My muscles strain. “I don’t feel comfortable stripping…right off the bat. Is there any way for us to run lines first? Just to get in the mindset for the scene?”
I grip my elbow, staring at my feet, the hardness in the pit of my stomach growing with each passing second. There’s no way I can dive right in. Not like this. There are plenty of other scenes for us to do to warm up without me having to get naked in front of everyone. And where is the intimacy coordinator?
“Would you like me to call Marcus?” Parker threatens. “It’s a simple call I can make to have your contract terminated. If you refuse to follow through on the scene, then we can get another girl in this role faster than you can blink, and Marcus can just deal with you.”
I blink, staring up at him. He’d do that? For something as small as this? It doesn’t seem fair. Not like I really wanted the part once I learned more about it, but damn.
And my career means so much to him. Not only will he be hurt, but he’ll be so mad at me.
“It’s fine.” My voice is small, tight. “I’ll be fine.”
Hating every second, I start to peel off the robe, losing a part of myself once the fabric hits the floor. Marcus wants me to do this. He believes in me enough to have negotiated my contract for me. He’ll be livid if I ruin things. He’ll never forgive me.
I’ll be fine.
I’ll be…fine.