5. Lex
5
LEX
B y Friday morning, the end of our first week, it was time to check in with the old men who kept the studio’s wheels greased with the money they threw our way.
“Everything is going according to plan.” If I didn’t stop forcing a smile, my face would freeze this way. It was starting to look more like a pained grimace. “We’re due to start rehearsals Monday. It will be a little rushed,” I admitted as lightly as possible. “But I have nothing but faith in the talent we’ve managed to round up.”
One of the studio’s longtime investors offered an indulgent laugh. “Your father sure has a keen eye for picking the right people for a role.”
My teeth ground as my smile hardened. I was looking at a screen full of old faces, sagging jowls, permanent scowls, andmore than a little confusion when it came to the finer points of navigating a Zoom call. We were running ten minutes behind, thanks to so-called technical difficulties. Really, the five men on the call didn’t have the first clue how to do much of anything without their wives or assistants handling it for them.
“Yes, Dad pitched in,” I gritted out, silently seething. “I know by now it’s a bad idea to ignore his instinct.”
Those smug bastards. Sitting back in their offices or on their back patios beneath umbrellas, all they had to do was wait around and collect on their investment. They’d complain like hell if they lost money and act like kings of the world if the film was a success, as if they had anything to do with it beyond writing a check.
“It does look like a very ambitious timeline.” Pierce Williams, the oldest and most sour of the group, narrowed his faded eyes and leaned in until his face filled his screen. “Are you sure all of this can be done in such a short amount of time?”
It was a normal question. Hold it together. “I have nothing but confidence in our team,” I assured him.
“Even that little hellcat you’ve got directing for you?” Pierce chuckled, setting off a chain reaction until all of the men staring at me through their respective machines did the same. Now I understood something I never had before. There was a difference between people laughing because something was funny and the nasty, knowing laughter that now grated my nerves.
“Miss Strawbridge has been nothing but a solid, responsible, and energetic partner in all of this.” A partner I hadn’t spoken to for several days, not since the disastrous dinner at my house on Tuesday night. We had exchanged a few texts and emails, none of which contained anything personal. She reported back to me after meeting the actors. I confirmed filming permits, which had been fast-tracked and approved.
At least I knew I hadn’t scared her away from the project—an idea that had kept me up half the night after she left. What if she decided to quit?
“So long as you don’t let her walk all over you,” Pierce advised. “You know how it is nowadays. You look at a woman the wrong way for more than half a second, and all of a sudden, she’s screaming assault.”
I was going to need a shower after this call was finished. My skin was crawling, and the memory of Summer’s story about what happened with Clyde didn’t help things. I believed her. I had from the start. But would they if they were in my place?
Why did it matter? They were the money, nothing more. I needed to get out of my head. There were still plenty of calls and follow-ups to handle today, all in preparation for our short rehearsal period next week.
Thanking the men for their time, I gratefully ended the call and leaned back in my chair, blowing out a heavy sigh. I was a sponge that had been wrung out, completely dry, but it was over for now. I had convinced our backers that everything was moving along according to schedule. So long as I kept them happy and quiet, we’d be all right. I needed to believe that. Otherwise, I couldn’t shake the sense of being at the broken controls of a runaway train.
After taking a few laps in the pool, I showered off and fixed myself a little lunch based on what the cook left in the refrigerator before taking her day off today. There was pasta salad and a platter of grilled chicken, so I combined some of both before strolling into the living room and turning on the television.
It had been a long time since I kicked back like this, with my bare feet on the coffee table, looking for something mindless to distract me from what had been bouncing around in my head for days. I paused on a news show, setting the remote aside to eat a few mouthfuls of the delicious salad Lisette had put together for me. She knew I liked to have things lying around that I might grab easily, and this was one of my favorite dishes.
What a shame the taste soured in my mouth when the entertainment news queued up, and the bleached blonde on the screen chirped, “There’s a new name at Sunrise Pictures. Eric Danvers, director of Cannes darling Road to Glory , has inked a three-picture deal with the prominent studio.”
A photo replaced her smiling face, and now the idea of taking another bite was unthinkable. I sat up, leaving the bowl on the coffee table, staring at Clyde Harris and Eric Danvers as they stood together in front of the Sunrise Pictures sign spanning the gates in front of their studio.
I had seen photos of Danvers, mostly while I researched potential directors for this project. It was incredible how perception could change. Now, knowing what I knew, his smile was slimy, his eyes cold. He had the face of somebody I’d like to punch. Some people were like that. They had punchable faces.
She’s going to be upset about this . It was a surprising thought, coming out of nowhere while I imagined the satisfaction of my fist connecting with his square chin. Some people just begged for it.
Instead of looking for something else to put on, I switched off the television and stared at the ceiling. I had planned to recuperate a little today once the Zoom call ended. We were about to hit the ground runningwithno brakes, and it felt necessary to unwind before doing that to get my head in a good place.
It seemed like the world had other plans for me. I pulled up Summer’s contact in my phone on my way back to the kitchen, where I left my bowl in the refrigerator to eat later. I didn’t want to waste it, even if I couldn’t stomach the thought of swallowing another bite when imagining the damage I could do to Eric Danvers’ face.
I wasn’t expecting the unfamiliar female voice that chirped, “You’ve reached Summer Strawbridge’s phone.”
It threw me off for a second, but I replied, “Who is this? I need to speak to Summer.”
“This is her assistant, Claudia. Is this Mr. Landry? It’s nice to meet you.”
“Same here, Claudia.” She sounded cute, but she was wasting my time. “Can I speak to Summer?”
There was a little not-so-quiet murmuring going on in the background. It was the sort of murmuring that told me the person doing it was unhappy. Now I understood why I got handed off to the assistant. When she saw my name on the phone, Summer probably told Claudia to take it.
“Tell her I thought she had more guts,” I added, raising my voice in the hope she would hear me. “I didn’t think she’d hide behind an assistant.”
Not three seconds passed. “What the hell kind of bullshit is that supposed to mean?” Summer spat into the phone. I didn’t even mind her cussing me out when she was so easy to provoke.
“Oh, so you are available,” I replied. “I wanted to know?—”
“I am doing the work of three or four different people right now,” she informed me. “And we’re starting rehearsals in three days. And you’re calling to pick a fight?”
“No, that’s not why I called. I was hoping for a status report.”
“If you want a status report, you’re going to have to come to the studio to get one. I’m wading through a mountain of work. Maybe you can help me,” she added with a derisive snort.
I shouldn’t give her what she wants. I don’t jump every time she snaps her fingers . That was true, but it was also true that the girl could be a real bitch who knew how to push buttons I wasn’t aware existed. Challenging me to come down and meet with her, very clearly accusing me of being unable to handle the work and in front of her assistant, no less.
So much for my relaxing day.
“I’ll be there in fifteen,” I announced. “Prepare yourself to carve a few minutes out of your busy schedule for me.”
* * *
She wasn’t kidding about the mountain of work. There were storyboards propped up against the walls. A huge corkboard covered with photos, headshots, renderings of set pieces in the middle of being built for some of our later shots. For the time being, we would focus on exterior shots, which comprised a solid percentage of the script.
And in the middle of the storm stood Summer. It didn’t seem to matter that she played soft, soothing music or was burning incense that made my nose wrinkle in distaste. None of it seemed to soothe her almost frantic energy as she hustled back and forth, switching storyboards before standing back with her hands clasped on top of her head. Her long, auburn locks were free of their usual bun and hung halfway to her waist, flowing like a shimmering waterfall down her back.
What I would do to imagine those smooth, silky strands wrapped around my fist as I fuck her from behind. Fuck, Lex, get your shit together.
“Please, tell me you found the tea.” She turned, hope etched across her face, but that hope dried up when she saw me standing in the doorway instead of her assistant. “Oh…” She sighed.
It was not the best or warmest greeting I’d ever received, but par for the course. “You weren’t expecting me?” I asked, plastering on a smile I did not feel. How could she be so damn brittle and prickly and still turn me on the way she did?
“I thought you were Claudia,” she replied, turning back to her work. “I sent her out to find a specific tea I like to drink when I’m feeling stressed. I told her to grab every single package she might find.”
“I didn’t know you had an assistant working with you.”
Her shoulders lifted. “Is there something wrong with that?”
“Not at all. I’m glad you have somebody to help out.” I was starting to forget why I had called her in the first place. I could’ve kicked myself for being a stupid ass. She didn’t need to be coddled. Hell, if I tried, she’d sooner bite my head off.
“You are obviously very busy.” I approached slowly, studying the storyboards outlining key scenes, presenting the way Summer had envisioned the script. They weren’t highly detailed, but they were good. “Who drew these?“
“I did, for the most part.”
“No shit?” She shook her head. “Where did you find the time?”
“Find the time?” She barked out a laugh. “It’s sleep I’m struggling to find time for right now.” Her hair shimmered when she ran her fingers through it, begging to be touched.
Desire was a fucked-up thing. It seemed I couldn’t stop swinging from one extreme to the other between wanting to kill her and needing to fuck the sass out of her.
“Careful,” I warned, fists clenched in my pockets to keep from reaching out. The sight of the circles under her eyes helped calm some of the fire. She wasn’t exaggerating, and this was a dangerous road to travel. “We still have a long way to go. I can’t have you working yourself into exhaustion and ending up in the hospital.”
“I can handle stress. I told you. I had to step in and handle Road to Glory on my own.” She folded her arms, sighing softly, staring at the corkboard. “I guess you heard the news. I know word travels fast.”
“About that asshole and his three-picture deal? I heard about it earlier.”
Her shoulders rose and fell. “Please tell me you weren’t calling to check up on me,” she murmured, her voice flat.
“Based on your history with him, I thought it made sense to check in with you.”
Snickering, she turned her head, eyes rolling. “Because you wouldn’t want your precious movie to go off schedule, right?”
Why did I bother giving a shit? “Yes, because that’s all I care about,” I muttered, looking her up and down. “You don’t know anything about me, Summer.”
She was already itching for an argument—that much was obvious—and I had given her all the ammo she needed. Eyes flashing, she snapped, “I know that at the end of the day, dollar signs are what matter most. Don’t patronize me and pretend there’s more to it than that. This is a business, and we both know it.”
I couldn’t win with her. Why was I trying? “If you’re fine, I’ll take your word on it. So long as everything is ready for Monday.” The sooner I got away from her, the better. Eventually, one of us would destroy this project by saying something we couldn’t take back.
“It will be ready,” she assured me as I backed away. “Even if I don’t sleep a wink between now and then.”
“You realize there’s no gold medal for self-sacrifice in this industry, right?”
“Trust me. I have no illusions.” She shook her head as she walked to her desk to search for something in the pile of folders and binders there. “I know self-sacrifice doesn’t get rewarded. Only being willing to kiss ass and suck a little dick when necessary.”
I stiffened at her tone and the underlying accusations. “You know you don’t have to worry about that here.” There was no reason to defend myself, yet something compelled me to. Make sure she didn’t get the wrong idea. Why else would she mention sucking dick if she wasn’t thinking about it?
“I don’t have time for this.” Something about the harshness in her words and the hard set of her jaw touched a deep part of me that intrigued, challenged, and infuriated me. There she was again, acting like her word was law and to hell with anybody who thought otherwise. She took one measured step after another, staring me down. “This movie means a lot to you? Guess what? I don’t have the safety net you have. If this is ruined, I’m ruined. You can always move on with all of your money and your connections, and you’ll be fine. I don’t have any of those things. Do you understand?” By the time she finished, we were almost toe-to-toe. Her chest heaved, drawing my attention, but I was more captivated by the fire in her eyes. It was the sort of fire I wanted to put out but imagined allowing it to burn.
“You keep reminding me,” I replied. “Is there anything new you can offer? Anything else riding on this? Or are you going to keep beating your dead horse until it’s nothing but red mist?”
Her mouth fell open a second before a bright voice rang out behind me. “I bought four boxes of tea and packs of those seaweed sheets you like to snack on.”
Claudia. “Saved by the assistant,” I muttered, catching a glimpse of Summer’s scowl as she turned to meet the newcomer.
She was even cuter than her voice let on, with a curvy body and a halo of black curls. Extending a hand, I offered my most charming smile. I had to, or else she might see how close I was to losing my grip. “Hi. I’m Lex Landry. And you must be the most patient woman alive.”