24. Laura
laura
. . .
N o matter how not subpar those orgasms were and whatever crazy feelings they stirred in me, she wasn’t always right. And even though Harley didn’t actually hire me, I wasn’t about to let that mediocre manager treat her—or me—like that.
I hated when men looked down on women. When they thought they could just walk all over them. Thought that they were better. More intelligent. More worthy.
It wasn’t even only about her anymore. I had something to prove.
I’m going to make him eat his words.
So even though I still had a slight headache, I still showed up to the set. Still sat on my chair with Penelope by my side. And I worked.
In between client work, I pulled all my contacts in the entertainment industry. I got in touch with the union. I had all of Harley’s previous contracts and paystubs sent to me.
I hadn’t worked this much out of spite in years. But like anything with Harley, the thrill was a nice break from the years of stressful work I’d been doing.
I used to think I got a hit of adrenaline from my job. And maybe I did. But it was so dull in comparison to whatever it was Harley dragged me into.
She was a serial killer, for God’s sake, and here I was, trying to nail her manager for wage theft.
I was pretty sure she could kill him anytime and get away with it.
Part of me definitely thought she should.
The guy was a dick. Another part of me wondered if she had considered it before and, if she had, why she hadn’t done it.
Should I ask? Would she tell me?
This wasn’t the most glamorous case, but it was fun. Especially when I could watch both of them from afar.
Her manager hated that I was here. Not only would he send me annoyed glances every thirty or so minutes like a child, but he also didn’t make any effort to try and conceal his complaints when talking to other staff members.
It put the staff managers in an awkward position but only made him look like a douche.
It wasn’t until the sun had completely set and the crew started to clean that I paused my work for the day. I had worked for over ten hours, but unlike my normal days, where I would slug into my apartment exhausted and aching for a glass of wine, I was pumped .
Harley stayed a bit longer to prepare for the scene the next day, intently listening to the director.
Unlike the day before, she had actually gotten to act.
Her co-star had been in many of the scenes as well, so both were busy actually getting work done instead of being forced to stand there and look pretty.
At first, I was annoyed by all the sexual scenes, but as I looked closer, I began to notice something I hadn’t before.
Harley’s pleasure-filled orgasm face when acting is completely different from real life.
Now that I knew what Harley looked like when she came, her acting itself was just that. Acting. She was damn good at it and could probably fool a lot of people.
But not me.
It made all that stupid jealousy about her co-star feel that much lighter. A small, secret part of me was satisfied that only I truly knew what Harley was like when she lost herself. I felt even prouder to realize I was probably one of very few who could make her let go like she had.
Maybe the only one?
Harley was a hard worker. At first, it was a bit unexpected given the way she acted when I first met her in her trailer, but some of my most dedicated clients were the most criminal of all.
It took a certain tenacity for them to continue in their line of work. To evade police. To keep a low profile.
She was no different.
Maybe that’s the link I’ve been missing.
I had been so intrigued by how she handled it all. How she could be a cold-blooded killer at night and a dedicated, high-profile actor in the daylight with hundreds of fans doting on her. I had been impressed at how she had kept it up.
This entire time, I had thought of her two sides as two separate entities. But it wasn’t that. Those two sides made her who she was. Different. Unpredictable.
So why am I still so drawn to her?
Maybe it was her background.
The knowledge of who her parents were certainly didn’t help. It made me truly understand where she was coming from and how she turned out the way she did.
But I didn’t pity her. It just made me feel closer to her.
Logically, though, there was no reason for this. Why did I want to help her? Why didn’t I try to fight the contract? I wasn’t one to just roll over and take whatever was thrown at me.
So why her?
I could even try to persuade her to show me the footage of that night. To see just how incriminating it was.
But I somehow… didn’t care.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Harley said as she sauntered over.
There was a cockiness to her that she didn’t have the day before.
It was refreshing to see it . The co-star and director were still off to the side but looked as though they might be leaving as well.
She looked around for her assistant, but when she found no trace of her, she raised a brow at me. “Where’s Penelope?”
The rest of the crew had left, and the beach itself was mostly empty.
“I sent her back to the hotel,” I said and stood from my chair. “You’re going to work that poor girl to death one day.”
Her lips quirked. I hated how such a small, insignificant expression caused my heart to skip a beat. Hated how it made my skin heat. How it made me remember how she had given me the same expression as she watched me make a fool of myself over and over again while she was between my legs.
“Oh? And here I thought you didn’t much care about me or my associates. Is that worry I hear?”
I hated the teasing tone too. Hated how it sent my mind reeling.
Hated how much I ate it up.
I rolled my eyes. “Liability. The last thing I want to be is present when she faints from lack of sleep and food.”
She let out a laugh and shook her head.
“Hungry? You must have worked up quite an appetite working today.” There was a knowing tone to her voice.
I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. I hopped out of my chair and shifted my heavy bag on my shoulder.
“So you saw that.”
She let out a laugh and looked back at the director and her co-star. Her manager was off to the side, waiting for his turn to talk with the director.
“I always see you, my love. Plus, how could I miss it?” she asked and shook her head. “Every time he glared at you and you met him with that insane smile of yours, I knew he was in deep shit. I think he knows it too.”
Insane smile. I scoffed.
“Well, I’m almost done with my case,” I said as I shifted the bag again, trying to downplay it. “And you don’t have to worry. I have a very high success rate.”
She reached forward and took the bag from me.
“You warm my heart,” she teased, but the teasing tone was quickly dropped and replaced with something more serious. “Seriously, though, I appreciate this. I have more than enough money but that guy…”
“I get it. So… food?”
Her eyes lit up at my words.
“It’s a bit late so we missed our reservation, but I know a spot not far from here.”
I gave her a quick nod. “You’re paying of course. I’ll take it out of the retainer fee.”
This got another laugh out of her. Fuck, why does such a simple sound make my chest feel so warm?
“Never crossed my mind that I wouldn’t.”
She stepped closer, putting an arm over my shoulder, turning me toward a small path that led out of the beach and to the main road.
It was blocked off by signs and banners to keep out the onlookers, but we managed to squeeze through.
There were a few stragglers, but the guards stationed there gave them a stern look when they tried to creep closer to us.
“Does it ever bother you?” I asked after one of the fans tried to yell to get her attention.
They had been standing around all day just waiting for this moment only for Harley to brush them off with an ease that must have stung.
“Yes,” she confessed, her lips pushing into a thin line. “Given my… circumstances, it can be hard to constantly be followed by them. But I pay good money to keep them at a distance.”
“Those are yours?” I asked, motioning to the husky security guards. She gave me a nod. I made a mental note to add unsafe work environment to my case.
“You, give me a piece of paper.” One of the security guards froze before slowly pointing to himself. I gave him a look and held out my hand. “And a pen too if you have it.”
The one next to him handed me the pen while the original one dug around in his pockets for what turned out to be a crumpled receipt.
I ripped it into two and held them out to Harley.
“Sign, please.”
She paused to look at me, something flashing across her face that I didn’t want to name for fear of how bad it would make my skin heat.
“Only because you asked nicely, my love.”
She took the pen from the guard, signed the papers, and gave them back to me.
I shrugged her off and quickly walked to the waiting fans to place her autographs in the closest hands. They screamed when they saw what it was.
When I turned around, Harley was waiting for me with a smile on her face.
“So you have a heart?”
I huffed. “I know what it’s like to be a fan. And—let’s admit it—you’re unnecessarily cruel to the people who support you.”
Instead of grabbing on to the jab like I hoped, her smile only widened.
“So were you a fan of me, Laura ?” The way she said my name in that teasing, sensual tone had my skin prickling.
I was hit with mental images of her at the cover magazine shoot and just how much I liked what I saw.
She looped her arm back around me as if it belonged there. Her warmth seeped into my skin, and against everything my mind told me to do, I found myself sinking into her side.
The street wasn’t too crowded, with only a few couples and families walking about. Some looked our way, but no one approached us.
“Do you ever stop thinking about work?” she asked. “I can feel your mind working nonstop. ”
“Never,” I admitted. “Do you ever stop thinking about killing people?”