12. Summer
12
SUMMER
D id anybody around the studio know how good Lex was at giving foot rubs?
My cheeks went warm when, as usual, my thoughts wandered back to last weekend. I had spent the ten days since then in a perpetual state of brain fog. Remembering the foot rubs and the times he insisted on carrying me around the house while I pretended to resist being held in his arms or flung over his shoulder. I was stubborn, but I wasn’t stupid.
Everything had changed. For me, anyway. I couldn’t speak for him, though he did seem sweeter somehow. Kinder. Or was that my warped, hormonal perception screwing with my head? Who could blame me for not being able to think straight after all those orgasms?
How was I supposed to make a movie when I couldn’t stop wandering around like a teenager with a crush on the cutest boy in school? Nobody should know, which only made it worse.
And more exciting. I could admit that to myself if to nobody else.
“Do you have a few minutes before you go to set?” All it took was the sound of Lex’s voice out in the hallway to make my heart jump. The man only had to exist, and suddenly, everything around me faded into the background. It wasn’t fair for one person to be so damnhot, like hot enough to kill my brain cells, because I was smarter than this. Wasn’t I?
I sat up straighter at my desk and folded my hands like I was still anywhere close to being a decent professional. If he could keep up the charade, so could I. It wasn’t like I had a choice. “So long as it’s not too many minutes.” Was there anyone out there to overhear me? Was I playing to an empty house?
“That’s right,” he said as he entered the room. “You have guests coming to visit the set today, right?” He didn’t close the door, though he was thinking about it, his hand on the knob, his brows lifting.
“They should get here any minute.” Now that we were filming exclusively indoor scenes, we could stay here at the studio and work on the sets for Danica’s character’s apartment and the garage where she and her friends fixed up their cars. Lex couldn’t stop talking about what a relief it was, knowing I’d always be at the studio instead of risking my life out on a racetrack.
He wasn’t completely wrong about that. It was a stupid move, even if I would’ve bitten off my own tongue before admitting it out loud. I wasn’t thinking, totally wrapped up in the moment, obsessed with getting the shot I wanted. The ten days between then and now had changed my perception.
And not only when it came to almost getting myself killed, though getting caught with Lex would be another kind of death. The professional kind, the kind I’d have to suffer again and again as I got rejected by one producer after another. Either that, or they’d all want to work with me, figuring I’d fuck them the way I fucked Lex.
Was fucking Lex. Present tense. There was no sense anymore in pretending it wouldn’t happen again. We had spent the weekend following my sprain at his house. Then there were the four additional nights I had found an excuse to work late. Not that I needed to lie to Claudia now that she knew the whole story, but still. It didn’t feel right to come out and announce I was sneaking off to the boss’ house for a little fun when I had been against the idea for so long.
“Just checking in to make sure everything’s all right.” He rounded my desk but kept a respectable distance for the sake of anyone passing by. “I emailed you a copy of the latest promotional materials.”
Right now, all I cared about was the way his cologne made my toes curl. Note to self. Find out what he uses. I wanted to buy a little bottle of it to revisit whenever I needed a pick-me-up.
“What are your thoughts about them?” I asked, pulling up the email on my computer. My hands were trembling, not because I was nervous about Mom and Dad visiting, though I was plenty nervous about that, and he knew it, which was probably why he stopped by my office when he had.
That was something I sure as hell hadn’t predicted. How understanding he would be once I confessed my nerves about this visit. “ It’s always been that way, ” I’d told him while staring out his bedroom window, my half-naked body draped over his. His bare chest rose and fell under my ear, his heart beating in a steady rhythm.
“ Nothing else matters but the art. Meanwhile, my sisters and I wore clothes that were so worn out, they were ready to fall off us. I’ll never forget the first day of kindergarten when I showed up thinking everybody lived the way I did. I doubt they even wanted to send me to a regular, traditional school. They were probably forced into it. ”
“ What is it your parents do? ”
“ Mom’s a sculptress, though she’s dabbled in painting. Dad has an art history degree, and life got better and more normal once he sold out and took a teaching job at UCLA. ”
“ That hardly sounds like selling out, ” he mused, stroking my back. Every brush of his fingers loosened me up a little more until it felt completely natural to open up and share everything.
“ Tell him that, ” I’d retorted, snickering. “But unless he’s making a living selling his mixed media pieces, he’s not a real artist. I know, it’s completely screwed up, ” I added when he chuckled.
“I’m not laughing at you,” he said with a little squeeze. “I’m understanding you better. Now I get why you’re so damn hell-bent on things always being a certain way. How can you help it? They’ve hammered that shit into your brain your whole life.”
“Mom seems enthusiastic enough,” I admitted. “But I don’t quite believe her. And I know Dad flat-out doesn’t approve of me working in Hollywood.”
“Your dad doesn’t know what he’s talking about, then,” he decided. “And it’s asinine to expect you to limit yourself for some bullshit idea of artistic purity. You can’t live up to your potential if you don’t have the resources to make the kind of movies you want to make. And you’re sure as hell not coasting by. I’ve never met anybody who works as hard as you do.”
“I get the feeling you’re only saying that because we’re naked in your bed right now.”
“It doesn’t hurt.” He was laughing as he gathered me in his arms while I pretended to fight him for being a smartass.
Two orgasms later, I had to get dressed and leave or else never get any sleep. If there was one thing I needed before an exhausting day with my well-meaning but exhausting parents, it was sleep.
Twelve hours later, here we were, pretending he hadn’t spent half of last night with his face between my thighs. It was getting trickier, separating work from my personal life. I wasn’t making it any easier on myself by flirting with him in the middle of the day. The problem was I didn’t know how to stop. And I didn’t want to.
“I’m going to need a little one-on-one time very soon.” Glancing toward the open doorway, he leaned in like he was pointing at something on my screen. “What a shame we’re going to have all these long days and late nights coming up with nobody around to make me behave myself.”
I pretended not to notice the goose bumps that raced down my arms when his breath touched my ear. My nipples went tight, and my pussy moistened. He had basically turned me into Pavlov’s dog.
“Keeping both our reputations safe isn’t enough to make you behave yourself?” I whispered, frozen still because I didn’t trust myself to move. It was too tempting, the idea of leaning in, touching my nose to his neck to inhale his spicy cologne. It took three washings to get the scent out of my hair last night, not that I wanted to. I would’ve liked to smell it all day. A reminder.
He brushed his fingers over mine, resting on the desk, making a shiver run through me and settle in my core. “I think we’re getting pretty good at this sneaking around shit,” he whispered, caressing the inside of my wrist because he knew it drove me crazy. I squirmed a little and squeezed my thighs together, but it was pointless trying to ease the ache he started up.
“Right, but let’s not push our luck.” A girl walked by carrying a stack of scripts, and I cleared my throat. “Let’s look at this promotional stuff.”
Before we could do that, the phone on my desk rang. It was more effective than a bucket of ice water over my head, making me completely forget whatever tingling was going on between my legs. Now, my heart was racing for a different reason, and it brought a little bit of nausea with it. I knew what the call was about before I picked up the phone.
“There’s a couple out here saying they’ve come to see you,” the front gate guard told me. “Doug and Brenda Strawbridge.”
“I’ll be right down to meet them.” I blew out a long breath as I hung up the receiver.
“Hey.” Lex’s hand touched my back, which I wished released the tension that had my muscles all locked up. Even he, with his magic hands, didn’t have the power to do that. “You know, if this has you stressed, they don’t have to come on set. I can go out there and make a big thing about keeping the public away while we’re filming. I’ll be the bad guy.”
I couldn’t have imagined laughing while feeling this way, which meant the laugh that burst out of me came as a complete surprise. “I don’t think you need to do that.” I giggled. “Thank you.“
I looked up at him, his eyes meeting mine. He was smiling, his eyes twinkling, and something dangerously close to real feelings swelled in my chest. I couldn’t let that happen. I would have to nip it in the bud. But for now, it felt pretty good. He was the comfort I needed when I felt weak and unsure of myself.
“You said your mom is pretty supportive about this, right?” he reminded me.
“Yeah, but Dad has been mysteriously busy every time we get on the phone.” I worried as I stood. Running my hands down the front of my soft, flowing linen dress, I asked, “Do I look all right?”
“That dress looks nice on you.” He lowered his voice, glancing at the open door, adding, “But it would look a lot nicer on my floor.”
“I can only handle one complication at a time, Mr. Landry.” And he was definitely a complication, though a much more pleasant one than the one I was currently on my way out to meet at the front gate.
I couldn’t afford to think that way, either. He was extremely dangerous, no matter how good we were together. That wasn’t enough to outweigh the damage he could do. Even if he didn’t mean to, and at this point, I knew he wouldn’t mean to get in the way of my chances at a career. He could still do it without meaning to.
“You don’t have to come with me,” I whispered when it was obvious he was not going to hang back.
“I want to get a look at them. And they are going to visit my set,” he added in a deeper, more serious voice that reminded me a lot of his father, something I knew better than to say out loud. We both had issues with our parents and the bullshit pressure they’d put on us.
“Try not to get offended,” I warned as we approached the gate. It was surreal, the sort of moment that forced me to take a step back from myself to appreciate it. I was welcoming my parents into the studio where I worked. I was showing them around for them to see what I did every day. This was my life. I had a right to be proud of it.
That pride lasted around three seconds then I caught sight of Dad looking around like he was already counting the seconds until he could leave. His body language screamed discomfort with his shoulders up around his ears and his arms folded. My stomach churned at the way he peered at everything from over the wire rims of his glasses. Judging it all.
Mom noticed me first and fluttered my way in a flurry of bracelets and fringe. “There’s my filmmaker!” She was thrilled, pulling me in for a tight hug. Why couldn’t it always be like this? I could bask in the warmth of her love and approval and breathe in the familiar blend of scents that was uniquely hers—incense, essential oils, sunshine. I didn’t know sunshine had a smell until now.
“Hi, Daddy.” I stood on tiptoe to give him a peck on his bearded cheek. “Thank you for coming down like this. Did you find the hotel all right?”
“Hotel…” he scoffed. “We didn’t need anything more than a bed and a decent continental breakfast.”
“And we got both,” Mom concluded, rolling her eyes as she patted his chest. “Don’t listen to him. It was wonderful of you to reserve such a nice room for us.”
“Shouldn’t you be saving your money?” Dad asked. “For after this is over? You’ll need to support yourself between projects.”
“I’m fine.” And embarrassed. So very embarrassed. Namely because neither of them had acknowledged the man standing just behind me, who until now had been silent.
He cleared his throat, briefly touching a hand to my lower back before speaking. “Mr. and Mrs. Strawbridge, it’s a pleasure to meet you both. I understand we have you to thank for Summer’s work ethic. It is definitely coming in handy around here.”
I could’ve kissed him. “Mom, Dad, this is Lex Landry,” I said. “He’s the executive producer on the movie.”
“Of course, Mr. Landry.” Mom shook his hand warmly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Summer has said nothing but positive things about this experience.”
“Has she?” He laughed softly, smirking at me, asking, “Did you tell her to say that?” We laughed together, and now I wanted to kiss his face off. Mom always was a sucker for flattery and banter with a handsome man.
Dad didn’t find it so funny. “Exactly how many people do you employ here, Mr. Landry?” he asked, observing a handful of people walking past. “It seems like a pretty big place.”
“I don’t have exact numbers on hand,” Lex admitted as we started strolling down the wide span between soundstages once we passed the offices. “But Landry International employs hundreds of people. Of course, there are people who work behind the scenes on every film… electricians, sound artists, props, sets and costumes, hair and makeup, visual effects. But there are also accountants, administrators, our promotions department, and many more positions that are all filled in-house. It’s a small city,” he concluded.
It wasn’t so much the way he rattled off an answer like that. It was his enthusiasm. The way he acknowledged people as they crossed our path. That special touch he had. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he liked working here. He was proud of the work he did.
“That’s really fascinating,” Mom offered. I had to give her credit for trying. She understood something Dad didn’t—how the situation with Eric wrecked me. She knew having me work here at Landry International was a hell of a lot better than the brokenhearted, directionless depression that had almost won out in the month after the breakup. Culminating, of course, with the award at Cannes—an award I should have been there to accept.
My father, on the other hand, possessed no such understanding. “And if a movie doesn’t do well, what happens to all these people with their jobs on the line?” he asked as we entered the dark, cool soundstage where I’d be working today.
“Now you’re asking me to reveal special, insider knowledge,” Lex joked. Mom laughed, and so did I, but it was strained and false. “Trust me. We’ve had more than our share of flops over the years, just like any other studio. We are a well-oiled machine, I assure you.”
Something about the way he said it made me stop short, looking up at him. For some reason, I had the feeling that it was the first lie he hadtold since introducing himself.
“I have an idea.” Lex pointed to an area near the craft service tables, where chairs sat. “Why don’t we head over there while Summer gets everything ready? I’d be happy to answer any questions you have about anything you see or hear. Making movies is my favorite subject.”
Not even my father was capable of breaking through that wall of charm. He followed Mom and Lex over to the coffee station, where Mom burst out laughing and swatted at Lex over something he said. She actually swatted playfully at him.
“I know I’m imagining this.” Claudia’s sudden appearance at my side startled me, but she was too busy gaping to apologize. “Is your mom literally swooning over Lex Landry right now?”
That wasn’t what kept me staring after them.
He didn’t have to do this. He probably had six more important things to take care of.
Instead, he was taking care of me by taking care of them.
If I wasn’t careful, I might end up falling in love.