Keep This Promise

by Willow Winters

  I wave her off.

  “Brandon, give me a few, and I’ll call you back.” I hang up with him and call my driver, who is also my bodyguard. “Aiden,” I say when he picks up, “I need you to give someone a ride back to her hotel. Her name is Pins.”

  I see her roll her eyes, and it sends a thrill through me.

  “Pins? Are you serious?” he says in that deep voice of his.

  “No, her name is Charly.”

  “Cool. Is she leaving now?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Tell her I’ll be in front of the hotel in five.”

  “Thanks, Aiden.” I hang up. “My driver, Aiden, will be up front in five to take you home.”

  “Thanks.” She smiles. “It’s really nice of you.”

  “I’m a nice guy.” I lean my shoulder against the wall.

  “Yeah, sometimes.”

  I give her an affronted look, and she laughs.

  She opens the door, and I follow her through it.

  “So”—she’s backing away—“I’ll see you later.”

  “Are you on set tomorrow?”

  “Probably.”

  “Then, I’ll probably see you tomorrow.”

  She smiles, and my insides heat.

  “See you, West.” She turns and starts to walk toward the elevator.

  “See you, Pins.”

  I see her head shake, and I laugh.

  I step back inside and shut the door.

  I like Pins. I really like her. She’s hot and cool and witty. And nothing like the women I usually spend time with. I should ask her to dinner…and then fuck her.

  My phone starts to ring in my hand.

  Jack.

  Jesus Christ. Can’t a guy get a minute’s peace while he thinks about the woman he wants to fuck but is trying not to?

  I answer the call, putting the phone to my ear. “Jack, can I call you back? I’ve got to call Brandon.”

  “What were you doing with a woman in your hotel room?”

  “What the hell?” I suspiciously glance around the room. “Have you got a spy cam in my room?”

  “No, you idiot. I just spoke to Alex, and he said you were busy with someone called Charly. And I’m guessing he didn’t mean a man.”

  I sigh. “She’s the wardrobe assistant on the film. She came to fit some clothes for tomorrow. For fuck’s sake, Jack. I’m not a kid. I can keep my pecker in check.” Mostly.

  “Yeah, well, it doesn’t hurt to remind you of it. You need to keep it zipped up while you’re making this film. You don’t need another scandal taking the attention of your career back to who you’re screwing.”

  “We don’t need to have this conversation again, Jack. I’m going. I need to call Brandon back.” I hang up the phone and sigh.

  Well, if that wasn’t just the motherfucking reminder that I need to stay away from Pins.

  Great. Just fucking great.

  Chapter 9

  Charly

  I got in really early this morning to fix Vaughn’s clothes for today’s shoot. I could have done them last night after leaving his hotel, but his driver dropped me back at my hotel and insisted on carrying my things to my room for me, which was really sweet of him. After that, I couldn’t be bothered to go back to the studio. I don’t have a sewing machine here with me, so I figured I’d go to bed early and get up early.

  God, I’m such a party animal. Not.

  I’m all done, his clothes fitted to size, ironed, and pressed to perfection.

  Right now, I’m just heading over to his trailer to take them to him.

  And I have a smile on my face.

  It’s a beautiful day, and I’m wearing a dress of my own design. I make my clothes when I get time. This is an oldie but a favorite. It’s a hot-pink skater dress made from jacquard fabric, and I’m wearing it with a thin silver belt around my waist that I picked up at a thrift store. On my feet are my sparkly gunmetal-gray ankle peep-toe Kurt Geiger boots that Nick bought me last Christmas. He had them shipped over from the UK, as you can’t get them here. They’re hot as hell. The man knows me well.

  My hair is up in one of those messy buns that looks like you did it in a few minutes, but you actually spent half an hour pinning and perfecting it to get it like this.

  I look good.

  I also feel good because fitting Vaughn last night went better than I could’ve hoped. At first, I’d thought it was going to be pistols at dawn, but then, shocker, we’d started to get along. It was nice. I liked talking with him. I was kind of a little sad to leave. He’s actually quite funny. Quick-witted. I like humorous men. Especially the hot ones.

  And, when he said he trusted me…it felt big. It made me feel valued…worth something.

  That doesn’t happen to me often.

  Today is going to be a great day; I just know it.

  Reaching what I hope is Vaughn’s trailer—Ava gave me directions to it—I knock on the door and wait.

  Alex opens the door.

  “Hey.” I smile.

  “Charly, good to see you again.”

  “I have Vaughn’s clothes.” I lift them up as proof.

  “Come in.” Alex steps aside. “He’s just in makeup.”

  I step inside his trailer, and…wow. It’s really nice. Nicer than my apartment.

  It’s done in dark wood. A real masculine feel to it, which is perfect for Vaughn. A circular seating area with a table has an open laptop on it. Next to it is a comfy-looking sofa with a large TV fitted to the opposite wall. There’s a kitchen area, and a little further down, there’s a dressing table with a large mirror lit up with bulbs. And that’s where Vaughn is, sitting down on a chair while a woman is doing his makeup.

  I walk over to Vaughn. “Hey.” I smile in the mirror at him. “I have your clothes. Where should I put them?”

  He flicks his eyes at me and then immediately looks away. “Anywhere.”

  “Okay.” I step back and look around for somewhere to hang them, but I don’t see a hook. “Is there a closet anywhere, so I can hang them?” I ask him.

  “Just put them on the fucking table.” He throws a hand in the direction of the table where Alex is sitting with the laptop.

  His hard tone takes me back a step.

  I swallow back my discomfort and surprise. “I just don’t want them to get creased. I spent a long time pressing them.”

  “I’ll put them in the closet in the bedroom for you.” Alex takes them from my arms, a look of pity on his face.

  “Thanks,” I say quietly to Alex.

  “Knock, knock,” a cheery voice calls. Natasha Warner, Vaughn’s costar in the movie, walks in.

  It’s the first time I’ve seen her—in real life, that is.

  She’s taller than I expected. I’d say she’s about my height. But she’s just as beautiful in real life as she is on-screen. Thin but athletic, she looks like a swimwear model. Shiny black hair sits perfectly on her shoulders. With huge bright blue eyes, her oval face is heavy with makeup, but I know that’s for the film. Even still, it doesn’t diminish her beauty.

  She’s stunning.

  I feel like a little kid next to her.

  And she’s wearing a Stella McCartney dress that I know for a fact costs a thousand bucks.

  How the other half lives. Sigh.

  “God, you’re still in makeup?” She laughs, walking over to Vaughn. She stops at the back of his chair, putting her hands on the top of it, while the makeup artist continues to do his makeup. “You men take longer to get ready than us women do.”

  “What can I do for you, Natasha?” His tone isn’t much friendlier than it was with me, which makes me feel a little better at the reception I got from him.

  “Isn’t he a darling in the morning?” she says to me, playfully rolling her eyes. Then, she sticks her hand out to me. “We haven’t met. I’m Natasha.”

  “Charly Michaels.” I take her hand and shake it. “I work in wardrobe. I was just dropping off Mr. West’s clothes. It’s really grea
t to meet you, Ms. Warner.”

  “Natasha, please. God, Vaughn, you don’t make this lovely girl call you Mr. West, do you?”

  His eyes momentarily flick to me, and the look in them is filled with annoyance.

  Jeez, who pissed in his cornflakes this morning?

  “No.” He looks back at Natasha. “I’ve told her countless times to call me Vaughn. What do you need, Natasha? Or did you just come for a girlie chat?”

  She laughs; it’s light and airy. “I need you to run lines from act four with me again, Mr. Happy. I can’t get them to stick.”

  “Sure. Whatever. Give me five minutes.”

  Then, he looks at me again. It’s a look that tells me he wants me to leave.

  “Okay, so I’ll be going.” I start backing away. “If you need me for anything else, Vaughn, have Alex call my cell.”

  He doesn’t even bother to respond.

  Alex does from his seat at the table where he’s working on the laptop, “No worries, Charly. I’ll call if we need anything.”

  “It was nice to meet you.” Natasha smiles at me, taking a seat at the table. “Oh, and I love your dress.”

  “Oh. Thank you.” I run a hand down it. “I made it.”

  “You made it? Wow. It’s really good. Are you a designer?”

  “No.” I shake my head. I just want to be one.

  “Well, you should be. It’s amazing. Do you have any other designs? I’d love to see them.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Vaughn growls, getting up from his seat, pulling the tissues that protect his clothes out of the collar. “I feel like I’m in a fucking episode of Project Runway.”

  “You watch Project Runway?” I stifle a laugh.

  “No, of course I don’t fucking watch Project Runway,” he barks at me. “Now, are we running these lines or not?” he says to Natasha.

  And that’s me being dismissed.

  The makeup girl catches my eye, giving me a smile—the one people like us who work in the movie industry share, which says that all actors are stuck-up assholes and not to take it personally.

  But I am taking it personally.

  Because, after last night, for a crazy moment, I actually thought he was a nice guy.

  The Vaughn who got his driver to take me home so that I wouldn’t have to get a cab—what happened to him?

  Apparently, he was an anomaly.

  I won’t make the mistake of thinking he’s a good guy again.

  “Bye,” I say in general.

  I get responses from everyone, except for Vaughn.

  I step outside, back into the bright sunshine. Pushing my hands into the pockets of my dress, I walk back to wardrobe, my steps a lot heavier than they were on my way here.

  Chapter 10

  Vaughn

  Sex scenes.

  Fucking hate them. First day of filming, and Brandon wants to jump straight into them.

  Those clothes that Charly spent time getting ready for me are to be taken off by Natasha.

  I’m trying not to think about how weird I feel about that.

  Dressed by the woman I currently want and can’t have—as Jack so kindly reminded me of last night—and undressed by my costar and friend.

  In the movie, she’s a stripper, and I’m a hard-ass Mafia guy. In this scene, I’m going to be fucking her on the bar top in the nightclub where she dances while people watch us. Alongside those other actors, fifty crew members will also be watching us simulate having sex. I’ll be butt-ass naked, apart from the cock sock I get to wear. All the while, Brandon will be firing out orders at us on how to fake fuck correctly.

  Not fun at all.

  I’ve worked with Natasha before, but this is the first time we’ll be doing a sex scene together. And a sex scene like this is always tough, especially on the first day of filming.

  Brandon says he likes to get the important and difficult scenes done first, so there’s time to come and revisit if needed.

  Honestly, I just feel weird. Doing sex scenes in general feels strange. But that’s not what’s bugging me most.

  Charly is.

  Or how I feel about her…

  Basically, how much I want her.

  I can’t remember wanting a woman this much before. Especially not one I’ve known for such a short amount of time.

  Seeing her this morning didn’t help anything. She was in that sexy little dress, which, as I heard, she’d made herself. I don’t know why I find that hot, but I do. And those boots…Jesus Christ. I have visions of her wearing nothing but them—her long legs wrapped around my waist, the heels digging into my back, while I fucked her hard.

  I can’t seem to stop obsessing over what it would be like to fuck her.

  But I can’t. I need to keep my mind on this film and nothing else.

  So, I was distant with her this morning. I figure, if she thinks I’m a moody asshole, then she won’t try to be my friend. The last thing I need is for Charly to try to be my friend.

  But that still hasn’t stopped me from thinking about her since she left my trailer this morning.

  I’m on set, and we’ve already shot the first scene, which was Natasha dancing for me. Now, we’re getting ready for the sex scene.

  I have to change from the suit I’m wearing into another one of the exact same, but that one will have some marks on it.

  I go into the changing trailer on set, where Alex put the spare clothes for me. Ava’s in there. But no sign of Charly.

  “Hey,” I say to Ava.

  “Change time?” she asks with a smile.

  “Yeah. Where are the clothes? Never mind,” I say as I see them hanging off the rail.

  I grab the suit and then look inside the garment bag for the cock sock.

  “Ava, there’s no cock sock in here.”

  “There isn’t?” She comes over to look. “Was it in there earlier?”

  “I don’t know. Alex got the first set of clothes out for me.”

  “Oh, no worries. I’ll see if I have one here.”

  She goes off rummaging through drawers. I slip off the jacket, tossing it onto a chair, kick off the shoes, and start unbuttoning the shirt.

  “I don’t seem to have one. But don’t worry. I’ll call Charly and have her run one over for you.”

  While I’m happy that I’ll get to see Charly, I’m not exactly thrilled at the fact that she’s coming to bring me a cock sock.

  I step into the changing room and pull the curtain across.

  I hear Ava on the phone while I change.

  “Charly, the cock sock is missing from Vaughn’s items needed for today’s take. No, it’s okay. Don’t worry; no problem at all. Yeah, that’s fine.”

  Dressed, I pull the curtain back and step out with the rest of the clothes, tossing them onto the same chair as the jacket.

  “Charly’s just on her way back to wardrobe now. She’ll be about ten minutes, so she’s going to bring it to set for you, if that’s okay?”

  “That’s fine.” I push my feet into the shoes and head for the door.

  “See you later,” I say to Ava.

  I walk across the lot and back onto set where Natasha is having her makeup retouched.

  I sit down on the seat beside her. She’s wearing a dressing gown. She has it worse than me. She’s been dressed in a bra and panties all morning. At least I’ve gotten to wear a suit for most of it.

  A makeup artist comes over and starts retouching my makeup.

  “How are you doing?” Natasha asks.

  “Good.”

  “Feeling okay about this next scene?”

  “Fake fucking in front of fifty-plus people? Walk in the park.” I slide a look at her, and she laughs.

  “Never gets any less weird, does it?”

  “Nope,” I reply. “How’s the family doing?” I ask, changing the subject to something lighter.

  “Good. Brody just cut his first tooth.” She gets her cell from the pocket of her gown and pulls up a picture to show me.

 
; I lean over to take a look. “Good-looking kid. See he takes after you and not Carter.”

  “I’ll tell Carter you said so.”

  I laugh. “How is Carter?”

  “He’s good. It’s just hard for me, being away from him and Brody so soon after having him, but I couldn’t pass up this opportunity to do this film.”

  “Yeah, I get that.” And I do.

  “How’s your family?”

  “Good,” I tell her. “My sister is finally getting married next month. They’ve only been together for fifteen years and have three kids.”

  “Better late than never.” She laughs. “That’s your oldest sister, right? The one who got engaged a while back?”

  “Yeah, Sasha.”

  I have two sisters, both older than me—Sasha and Meg. Both the bane of my existence growing up, but now, I couldn’t imagine life without them.

  Sasha and Greg, her fiancé, are going to get married at my parents’ place, where I grew up, in Keno, Oregon. My mom and dad have a farm there; it’s been in my family for generations. It’s also where I have my ranch—the only home I own. Not many people know about it. I had it built out on the furthest reach of my parents’ land. It’s private, just like I wanted.

  I’m really close to my family—my mom and dad, Sasha and Greg, Meg and her husband, Vic, along with my nieces and nephews, and my grandma. She’s the best. Absolutely batshit crazy, but I love her for it.

  My family is the only sane thing I have in this fucked up existence I call my life.

  “Vaughn.”

  Her voice touches me like her hands have brushed my skin.

  I glance up to see Charly standing beside me.

  God, she’s stunning.

  “I have the sock for you.” She holds the cock sock out for me.

  And the moment is killed.

  I take the sock from her. “Thanks.”

  I want to talk more to her, but I need to keep my distance, and I really need to get my head in the scene.

  “I’m gonna go put this on,” I tell Natasha.

  I get up and walk away, heading for the restroom, without acknowledging Charly even though it pains me to do so.

  Chapter 11