Gathering Storm

by Alexa Land

  “I’m not here to talk about the contract. I’m here because I need to arrange some sort of public appearance, and I need to do it within the next week or two.”

  “Well, a public appearance is easy enough. There are at least a dozen local clubs, adult shops and video stores that have been clamoring for you, though the dollar amounts they’re offering have been far too low.”

  “No, that’s not quite right. I don’t want something with a lot of people filtering in and out, it’d be too chaotic. I need…I don’t know, a seated audience or something.”

  Brad perked up at that. “An audience! Are you finally willing to do that live sex show I’ve been pitching to you for the last year?”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  Again, it was like I hadn’t spoken. “This is perfect timing,” Brad said, swinging his monitor toward him and typing something into his computer. “I’ve been wanting a way to show my brother that you’re still a hot commodity, and this’ll be perfect! There are three private venues I’ve been looking at, my favorite is the Clarenden Club, lemme pull up the contact information for that place. We’ll set a date two months from now and generate so much buzz that Bart will have to up your contract amount. And forget a hundred and twenty percent above your current contract, I’ll be able to ask for a hundred and fifty! Your career’s going to be on fire after I stage this event for you.”

  “You’re not listening to me. I don’t need an event in two months, I need an event now. And I told you how I feel about doing a live sex show.”

  He’d only half-way heard me that time, and muttered, eyes still on his computer, “No way can this happen quickly. We need to build the excitement, the anticipation. We need to milk this for all it’s worth. It’s all about generating buzz, you know. Besides, all these venues are going to be booked six to eight weeks out, at least in terms of the most desirable time slots, and—”

  “Brad, will you shut up for a minute?” I yelled.

  Finally he looked up at me, eyebrows knit. “Are you having some kind of diva moment, Hunter? Because that shit doesn’t fly with me.”

  “You’re not listening to me. You never have. But this is important.”

  He looked annoyed now. “Fine. I’m listening. What’s so important?”

  “I need to organize an event that’ll be a part of a police sting operation. I’m trying to think of a way to bring my stalker to me, so the police can arrest him. And I’ve told you a million times that I’m not having sex in public, so that’s not what I’m talking about here.”

  “Your stalker? What does he have to do with anything?”

  “Like I said, I want to draw him out so the police can catch him.”

  “Why?” Brad asked, pulling open a drawer. “He’s just some jerk that likes writing letters. And speaking of which, I have the latest batch right here.” He tossed a thick stack of white envelopes, bound with a rubber band, onto his desk. “I’m still saving them for your police detective, though I really think we should just throw this shit away.”

  “He broke into my apartment. And I found out this same person drugged and raped my best friend, and almost beat him to death.”

  Now I had Brad’s attention. His expression grew serious, and he said, “Shit, I’m sorry. Is your friend okay?”

  “Yeah. That actually happened a while ago, but we found out yesterday that this is the same man. He’s really dangerous and elusive, and I want to help the police catch him, before he hurts me or someone else.”

  Brad mulled that over for a few moments, then said, “Okay, I get it. But you know, there’s no reason why this can’t be a two birds, one stone kind of situation. We plan some big public event, the police catch this psycho, and at the same time, we generate enough buzz to push your career into the stratosphere and get my brother to pay through the nose to renew your contract. Everybody wins.”

  I sighed at that, then said, “Whatever. The main thing, though, is that I need this to happen fast.”

  “Fast is problematic.” Brad tapped his fingers on his desktop as he thought out loud. “Although, I could pull off a full media blitz in a short time frame, I could even hit some of the mainstream media outlets if we think of something big. But what and where?”

  “Like I said, it needs to be in some sort of controlled environment. I don’t want this guy slipping through the woodwork if we do some kind of big, public event.”

  “But you need a big, public event. If we rent a theater, tickets will sell out fast, you’re a big draw. Who’s to say this individual will even be able to buy a ticket to the show before they sell out?”

  “I bet he’d find a way to be there,” I said. “He managed to break into my home and get my unlisted phone number, so I don’t think something like sold out tickets would be much of a deterrent.”

  Brad lapsed into thought again. Eventually he said, “Maybe we need to announce something like a ‘meet Hunter Storm’ superfan event. We could say we’re giving away tickets to the first fifty people that come to the offices, and the police can nab him when he comes for a ticket. After that, we can hold any kind of public appearance we want, we won’t have to worry about this guy.”

  “That sounds suspicious even to me. If this man suspects a trap, he won’t show.”

  We tossed ideas back and forth for a while, and finally I sighed and said, “We’re overthinking this. Maybe we need to keep it simple, like signing autographs at a shop or something. An event like that would have crowd control in place, and the number of people entering the building at any one time would be regulated to avoid fire code violations. Maybe we don’t need to do something big to bring him to me…maybe he’ll show up no matter what I do.”

  “You think so?”

  “I have no idea,” I admitted.

  “Seems like,” Brad said, “if you’re going through all this trouble, and if you’re getting the police involved, you should try to make sure he’ll show up. If you do something outrageous, like a live sex show, that’ll definitely draw him out. You told me before that he’s very possessive, that he talks about your films as though you’re cheating on him. So, if he knows a few big, hot studs are going to fuck you in front of a live audience, he’ll be there, guaranteed. Don’t you think?”

  I narrowed my eyes at my manager. “And the fact that you’ve been trying to get me to do exactly that for over a year has nothing to do with it, right?”

  “Of course not!”

  “You’re just thinking about how this’ll benefit you, about how it’ll earn you a fat commission if it boosts my popularity and gets your brother to sign off on a bigger contract. You’re obviously trying to take advantage of this situation.”

  “Since when do you talk to me like that?”

  “It’s way overdue. I’ve always let you intimidate me, Brad. That’s why I never said no when you wanted to have sex with me. I have no problem talking back to other people, by the way, just ask Brian,” I said with a little grin. But then I got serious and added, “With someone like you, though, or with my dad, I’ve always been afraid to speak up.”

  Brad looked offended. “Did you just compare me to your father?”

  “Just because you’re both authority figures.”

  “How am I an authority figure?”

  “You’re twenty-three years older than I am, Brad. Plus, you hold the reins on my entire career, so I always felt like I had to shut up and put out. But I guess I’m tired of that.”

  He watched me for a long moment, then said, “I never realized you felt that way. I wasn’t trying to coerce you into having sex with me. I just thought….”

  His voice trailed off, so I said, “What, that I was a slut who gave it up to anybody? I guess that’s what I am now. I learned not to place any value on sex, or on myself. But you were only the second man I’d ever slept with, Brad, when you brought me in for my audition. I was twenty years old, and I’d only been in the city for two weeks. My boyfriend and I had just wiped out all our savings movi
ng here and putting down first, last, and deposit on an apartment. On top of that, I was having serious second thoughts about moving in with him, and here you were, offering me a way out and an answer to all my money problems. Let’s face it, you took advantage of an innocent kid, fresh off the farm. It didn’t come much more naïve than me back then.”

  He glared at me and said, “You could have said no, Hunter. You had every opportunity. I didn’t force you to come here and bend over my desk, you did that of your own free will. And you said it yourself, you were twenty years old, you weren’t a child. I really resent the fact that, after all I’ve done for you, you now come in here and try to play the victim!”

  “I’m hardly playing the victim! But I am finally saying what I’ve wanted to for years: you took advantage of me, and you and I both know it.”

  “Oh really? Tell that to your huge paycheck and luxury apartment.”

  “You profited plenty too, Brad. Your thirty percent cut is hardly the industry standard, only I was too dumb to know that back then. I know it now, though. You’ve made a fortune off me.”

  “What the hell happened to you?” he asked as I got to my feet. “Where is this coming from all of a sudden?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I’m finally growing up, or finally learning that I matter.”

  “You’re a spoiled brat, Hunter. I gave you fame and fortune, and this is my thanks!”

  “Consider your thanks the dozens and dozens of times you got to use my body, no questions asked,” I said as I headed for the door.

  “Once you get over this diva shit, come back and we’ll talk,” he said as I left his office.

  When I got back to the lobby, I realized I must look pretty flustered, because everyone was staring at me – and it was more than just the ‘oh look, there’s Hunter Storm’ thing I usually got. I sat down for a moment in a quiet corner, pulled my phone from my pocket and sent Brian a quick message, letting him know my meeting was over. In less than a minute he replied: I’m stuck next door. Stay put, I’ll come get you as soon as I can.

  Okay, that was kind of silly. It was broad daylight, and outside, the city street was crowded. I really didn’t think my stalker was going to make a move in that kind of environment.

  By ‘stuck next door’ I assumed he was having some sort of mobility issue, like maybe he’d maneuvered his way into a shop and couldn’t back out again, so I went to see if I could be of assistance. I left the building and looked both ways. The production company’s warehouse took up almost the whole block, but there were a few shops to the left of it, and I headed in that direction.

  The business right next door was a men’s hair salon. When I stepped into the cramped little waiting area, someone shrieked, “Look everybody, it’s Hunter Storm! Brian wasn’t kidding!”

  A chorus of delighted cheers went up around the salon, and two seconds later, probably the most flamboyant man in the history of flamboyant men appeared at my side and linked his arm with mine. He was dressed in shiny black pants and a canary yellow dress shirt, and sported a full face of makeup, which was an interesting contrast to his short, grey hair. “Mr. Storm, welcome to Salon Viva! I’m Jason Winston de Vane, co-owner of the salon along with my husband Leo. It’s an honor, I’ve seen many of your films. And may I just say, you’re even more attractive in person. Tell me, who does your hair?”

  “Um, Teddy at Salon 625.”

  He made a face at that. “Salon 625 is alright, I suppose, but they’re overcharging you. You could get the same result here for half the price. No, better.”

  “For God’s sake, Jasie, he’s not here to talk about his hair, which is, let’s face it, flawless,” a second man said. He was a handsome Latino of maybe thirty, and he linked arms with me on the side opposite Jason. “I’m sorry, but Teddy Dane is a freaking genius, and you know it.”

  To me he said, “Please forgive Jasie, he’s a star chaser. If you ever decide you’re in the market for a new salon, we’d be honored to have you as one of our clients, Mr. Storm. But that’s probably not why you’re here. I’m sure you’ve come for Brian.” The man beamed at me like a kid on Christmas morning, then said, “Oh, and I’m Leo, by the way. Pleasure to meet you. Now come and see!” With that, he clamped his hand over my eyes and propelled me forward, around the reception desk and into the heart of the tiny salon.

  “Um, nice to meet you too,” I mumbled.

  We came to an abrupt halt, and Leo spun me a half-turn to the right, then yanked his hand away and yelled, “Ta da!”

  There were seven men before me, four standing, three seated. All the men standing were wearing black Salon Viva t-shirts, and each was staring at me with identical looks of excited anticipation.

  I blinked at them and said, “Sorry, I’m confused. What’s going on?”

  “Oh my God, he doesn’t even recognize him!” someone exclaimed, and they all laughed.

  “Recognize who?”

  “Who do you think?” That came from the man seated in the very center of the group, a big black salon cape draped over him from the neck down.

  I looked at the man who’d just spoken. Familiar blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “Holy shit, Brian!” I yelled, and the room again burst into laughter and applause, a couple camera flashes catching me off guard.

  I went up to him and took his face between my hands, and just stared. He was clean-shaven, his dark brown hair short and perfectly styled, and he was laughing at me. Finally he said, “I can’t believe you didn’t recognize me.” He took one of my hands in his and kissed it.

  “Look at you,” I murmured, running my free hand over his hair. “I can actually see you now, you’re not hidden behind that thicket.”

  “Do you think you could get used to this ugly mug?” he asked. His tone was joking, but there was real concern in his eyes.

  “Ugly mug? What are you, nuts? You’re so handsome, Brian. But then, I liked you even when you looked like Chewbacca.” I leaned down and kissed him, and our audience applauded again.

  “You know what I mean,” he said quietly, and he traced my fingertips diagonally across his face. Only then did I notice the scars across his right cheek. They were very faint, the same color as his skin, but he was obviously really self-conscious about them.

  “Is that what you were trying to hide with all that hair?” I asked gently. “I didn’t even notice them until you pointed them out.”

  “Not really. I was just too lazy to shave and get a haircut,” he said, trying to hide his insecurity behind a smile.

  I would have kept reassuring him, but since we had an audience, I smiled too and told the assembled crowd, “I can’t believe you did all of this in an hour. You’re miracle workers.”

  “We normally don’t even take drop-ins,” a young Asian man with a southern accent and hair to his waist pointed out. “But when Brian came in, we all stopped what we were doing and got to work. I mean, how often do you get a chance to do a total makeover like this? We took a before picture, and we’d love an ‘after’ with both of you in it if you don’t mind, Mr. Storm, for our wall of fame.”

  “It’s just Hunter,” I said. “And as long as Brian doesn’t mind, I’m game.”

  Brian agreed somewhat sheepishly. They plucked the cape off of him, and I leaned in so close that our cheeks were touching. A few photos were snapped, and when I handed them my phone, they took a couple for me as well. After that, the entire staff and the two other clients in the salon all took turns taking pictures with us in various combinations. Finally, Leo declared that we were being harassed, and told his staff to knock it off.

  “You got here just in time,” Brian said with a grin as I returned my phone to my pocket and the little crowd dispersed, a couple of the stylists returning to their neglected clients (who seemed perfectly thrilled to have been witnesses to all of that). “Jules was giving me a manicure, and he was about to reach for the nail polish.”

  The Asian guy with the beautiful hair clicked his tongue and said, “Yeah, but
just clear.”

  “See what I mean?” Brian said with a chuckle as we made our way back up to the reception desk. “So, what do I owe you?” he asked Leo as we reached the counter.

  “Nothing,” was his reply.

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s no charge. That was the most fun we’ve had in ages. I know we completely inundated you when all you asked for was a simple haircut, and you were such a good sport.” He grew serious then, and added, “Besides, my baby brother is serving in Iraq right now, and I strongly believe our veterans deserve so much more thanks than they get. Consider this my way of saying thank you for your service.”

  “But it’s too much. I can’t accept it,” Brian said, and started to reach for his wallet.

  Leo came around the counter and took Brian’s hand in his. “I can’t do anything to help my brother or the boys serving with him,” he said, his eyes slightly misty. “But I can do this for you, if you’ll let me.”

  Brian softened a little at that, and said, “Well, okay. But when I come back, which is going to be every six weeks for the rest of my life, I intend to pay. You got that, Leo?”

  The man patted the back of Brian’s hand before letting go of him. “Well, if you insist. And I hope your charming and gorgeous boyfriend accompanies you on some of those visits.” He beamed at me and said, “You two are such a beautiful couple, and I wish you every happiness.”

  Instead of setting him straight, we just smiled and thanked him, then I held the door for Brian. He called out a big thank you, and everyone answered with a chorus of you’re welcomes and goodbyes.

  It took only a minute to hail a cab, and when we were settled comfortably in the back seat and on our way back to Christopher’s apartment, Brian said, “I’m sorry about that.”