“Beats driving over the hill,” he replied. “Anything else?”
“Nothing as exciting as that,” she remarked.
“Martha!”
“Here,” she laughed handing him several more messages. “Nothing earth-shattering.”
“Could you please make me some of your amazing cinnamon coffee?”
“Celebrating?”
“Oh, yes, we are,” he nodded, and with a spring in his step he moved into his office and settled behind his desk.
Having just stepped out of the shower, Kylie stared at her reflection in the mirror as she ran a comb through her wet hair. She had three appointments that afternoon, two at Fox, and one at a literary agency in Beverly Hills.
How the hell am I going to concentrate on anything? I can’t believe I called him.
I can. You can’t wait to see him.
It was her voice of reason, the voice that tried, usually unsuccessfully, to control her when she was drinking too much, or being short-tempered, or about to throw something across a room.
True. I absolutely cannot wait. I don’t ever remember feeling this nervous before a date?
How can you forget about Scott Dempster in your senior year?
You’re right, he took my breath away. That’s it though, that’s the only other time. I’m so glad Angelo dumped me.
You should have cut him loose a month ago. He was too rough around the edges for you.
He was cool and sexy, and it was fun being seen with him. It’s my fault we broke up, but now I’m glad.
Kylie, get a grip. You need to focus on the meetings.
I really wish I could work for Zach. He’s probably right though, we can’t date if we’re going out.
Stop! Stop right there. Focus on the meetings. Forget about Angelo, forget about Zach. Focus, focus, focus.
“You’re right as usual,” Kylie said out loud. “The meetings. Time to choose what I’m going to wear.”
Moving into her closet she began to study her new suits, but found her mind wandering back to Zach, and what she’d wear for their date.
“It’s no use,” she muttered. “Until I know what I’m wearing tonight, I won’t be able to think about what to wear this afternoon.”
Forty-five minutes later she’d made her choices, and as she began style her hair a smile crossed her face.
I wonder. If I give him a hard time will he take it, or will he threaten to spank me again?
I’d be careful if I were you. He might not bother with the threat at all.
The warning voice sent her stomach churning, but it made her laugh out loud.
“That settles it,” she declared. “I won’t be easy, not at all.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Dressed in a black and white, camel hair, plaid sports coat, black slacks and a white, open neck shirt with monogrammed silver cufflinks, Zach climbed into his car to drive the short distance to Kylie’s complex. In his pants pocket was a handful of condoms, and though he doubted he’d use them, he was a man who was always prepared.
Throughout the afternoon he’d thought of little but their date that evening, and though he’d taken care of business as efficiently as he always did, he had been on automatic pilot.
Deciding where to take Kylie for dinner had been tough, but he finally chose the Bel Air Hotel. It was one of his favorite haunts, and though it had been recently remodeled it had lost none of its charm. The gardens were still gorgeous, the swans still glided by, and the footpath through the grounds was still intimate and romantic.
He also knew of a dark corner where the colored lights failed to cast their glow, a hidden cubbyhole of privacy where couples could share a passionate kiss. The thought of dropping his mouth against hers was something he relished, but he had an even stronger desire to show her he didn’t make idle threats, and in his inside breast pocket was a small, compact, stinging leather strap. Should she test him, and should the opportunity present itself, he’d be ready.
Unable to find a parking space near her complex, he guided his car against the red line curb in front of her building, and leaving the engine running he called her.
“This is Kylie.”
Her voice sounded cheery, but she also sounded slightly out of breath.
“Hi, Kylie, it’s Zach. There’s nowhere to park. Can you come down? I’m out front.”
“Sure, I’ll be right there.”
As he waited he tuned his radio to a station that played hits from the eighties. He had a soft spot for the decade of big hair and power ballads, and often wished he’d been around to enjoy the night life of Sunset Strip during those years.
A few minutes passed, and he was about to call her again when the door of the complex opened and she started walking towards him. She was wearing a pale green print dress with a white coat around her shoulders, and white high heels. Jumping from his car he moved around to open the door.
“Thank you,” she smiled.
“You look lovely,” he smiled back. That color highlights your eyes. I never noticed how green they are.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she grinned. Black rimmed glasses to match your clothes? Cute touch. How can you look even more handsome in a sports coat than you do in a suit?
Closing her door he walked quickly around his car and slid into the driver’s seat.
“Before we leave,” she began, “I have to make something clear.”
“Go ahead,” he said turning to face her. Here it comes, the excuse.
“I’m here for one reason, and one reason only.”
“Which is?”
“I want to discuss Curtis Fielding and the offer he made me. I know how busy you are at your office, so I thought it would be easier if we met up after hours.”
“I’ve picked up quite a few women for a first date, but that’s about the cruelest thing I’ve ever had said to me,” he sighed.
“Then I guess you’ve never been out with someone like me,” she quipped fighting a smile. “I could throw you a much more brutal line than that.”
“Oh, I’m sure you could,” he replied shooting her a look, “but you might be surprised at the response you’d get.”
His comment sent an unexpected flurry through her stomach, and she shifted her gaze to stare through the windshield of the car.
“Where are we going?”
“The Bel Air,” he replied pulling the car away from the curb and into the street. “I hope that meets with your approval.”
“The Bel Air? I love the Bel Air. Dad used to take me there for my birthday when I was in high school. Me and my friends would get dressed up and he’d hire a limo for the night. We always had the best time.”
“My friends and I,” he corrected her. “If you’re going to be dealing with writers and producers it might be advisable to watch things like that. You want to be taken seriously.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it,” she said airily. “Regardless, I’m really happy we’re going there. Thanks, Zach.”
“If I’d known I was going to be relegated to talking about a guy from my office for the whole evening, I might have chosen somewhere else, a place like, I don’t know, Norm’s Deli.”
“I’m not dressed for Norm’s Deli,” she giggled.
“Neither am I, and that’s the problem. I have no choice but to go to the Bel Air.”
She laughed out loud, and as he made his way through Santa Monica and cut across to Sunset Blvd, their conversation turned to recent movie releases, and he was surprised by her insightful comments.
“You should think about being a movie critic,” he said turning off Sunset Blvd and winding through the hilly residential streets towards the secluded hotel.
“I thought about it once. You’re not the first person to make that suggestion, but I want to be involved in making movies. I don’t want to just watch them.”
“No reason you can’t start a blog, offer your opinion. You never know, it might amount to something one day.”
“I
’m going to think about that. It’s not a bad idea.”
The sweeping entrance to the hotel came into view, and as he pulled his car in front of the green awning, the parking attendants quickly stepped forward to open their doors. They walked across the bridge into the hotel grounds, but as they started down the short pathway towards the restaurant, he took hold of her elbow and turned her to face him.
“Now it’s my turn to make something clear,” he said locking her eyes. “There will be no discussion about Curtis Fielding or anything else related to Titan. There will be no discussion about your job interviews, and there will no discussion about my work. I’m here because I want to know about you, who you are, what makes you tick.”
Gazing up at him Kylie felt as though he’d just hypnotized her. Her voice wouldn’t work, his fingers around her elbow were burning into her skin, and her heart was thumping against her chest. He had spoken quietly, but with such an air of authority she didn’t dare contradict him.
“Do we understand each other?”
She nodded her head.
“Good,” he said softly, and dropping his hand from her elbow he wrapped his fingers around hers and led her into the dining room.
He was walking with a measured, easy gait, but she felt unsteady on her feet. His short, firm lecture was making her head swim and had caused a warm wetness between her legs.
My God. What just happened? No-one has ever spoken to me like that. I wish my stomach would stop churning, I’ll never be able to eat. Oh, his hand feels so soft, but it’s holding mine so tightly. I need a drink, I need a drink real bad.
Your goose is cooked. This guy has got your number. You’ve met your match, Kylie, and you know it.
It’s turning me on so much. I swear I want to jump on his bones right now.
“Mr. Taylor, good to see you again.”
The Maitre d smiled politely, and carrying two menus he guided them to a Terrace Alcove table. It was private and cozy, and as they slid into their seats Kylie let out a silent breath.
“Would you care for cocktails?”
The drinks waiter had appeared at the table as if by magic, and Kylie nodded eagerly.
“If the bartender knows how to make a Black Orchid I’d like that, otherwise a martini, dry.”
“Yes, Madame, and for you, Sir?”
“I’ll take a look at your wine list. When you return with the cocktail I’ll let you know.”
“Very good, Sir.”
The waiter moved away, and leaning across the table Zach smiled.
“I’m relieved,” he said quietly.
“You are? Why?”
“If you continue to behave, I might tell you later.”
“What? How can you say things like that with a straight face?”
“I don’t have a straight face, I’m smiling.”
“You know what I mean,” she frowned.
“Kylie, we both know I have seen you be a total brat,” he said quietly. “You’re much better company when you’re agreeable.”
“I don’t know any such thing,” she retorted feeling her face turn hot.
“Tell me about your life, your favorite things to do, you can even tell me what happened with Angelo if you like.”
“You really want to know all that about me?”
“Of course. Haven’t you been asked that in the past? Surely other men have been interested in who you are?”
He sensed a subtle shift in her mood, and she tilted her head to the side.
“Not really. Not that I recall,” she said softly. “Most of the time they want to talk about dad and his films, and the people I know.”
“I want to know about you, Kylie, just you. What kind of music do you like?”
“That’s embarrassing,” she replied dropping her eyes.
“Impossible,” he chuckled. “I’ll go first. I’m an eighties junkie.”
“Seriously? Me too! Some of the music today is all right, but I much prefer the eighties songs. I mean, there’s a reason they’re still played all the time, right?”
“Right!” he exclaimed.
Their mutual love of the decades old rock and roll delighted them both. They began comparing notes, and when the drinks waiter returned with a Black Orchard, Kylie took a sip and rolled her eyes.
“Wow, that is the best,” she declared.
Not having looked at the wine list Zach asked the waiter to return in five minutes, and with the evening beginning on such a positive note he began to relax. Kylie was delightful, and though he had no doubt the brat would surface at some point, he was enjoying her company.
A few minutes later as they studied their menus and placed their orders, Zach ordered a glass of Cabernet. To his surprise Kylie polished off her cocktail and ordered a second. He didn’t say anything, but halfway through their meal she ordered a third. As the waiter walked away Zach slipped from his seat, and leaning over he dropped his lips to her ear.
“I’ll be right back,” he whispered, and kissed her lightly on the cheek.
His lips sent a tingle down her spine, and as she watched him make his way through the tables she sighed happily.
He is a dreamboat, I want to kiss him, really kiss him, and I will, the first chance I get.
You want to do a whole lot more than that, and you don’t need that third drink.
I’m still nervous, and I don’t think he cares.
Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t. You don’t know.
When he returned they picked up their conversation, but as they finished their dinner her eyes began darting around the room.
“Are you looking for someone?” Zach asked.
“The waiter,” she said tersely, “he hasn’t brought my drink.”
“No, he hasn’t,” he said casually.
“Annoying,” she muttered, “and speaking of annoying, Curtis Fielding is so weird, and his clothes, where would you even buy clothes like that?”
“I believe we covered this topic when we arrived,” Zach said calmly. “No work talk, and definitely no Curtis Fielding talk.”
“Well, you may not want to talk about him, but I do,” she declared feeling suddenly defiant, but seconds later she wished she hadn’t made the challenging remark and was relieved when the busboy arrived to clear their table. As he left, the waiter stepped up with dessert menus.
“Would you care for coffee?” he asked placing the small, leather bound menus in front of them.
“Yes,” Kylie said quickly, “with a bowl of whipped cream and a shot of whisky on the side.”
“Yes, Madam, and for you, Sir?”
“A helping of your fabulous bread pudding, assuming the chef has some hidden away,” he smiled.
“I believe he does,” the waiter nodded, and as he moved away, to Kylie’s delight Zach scooted around the table and settled in beside her.
“I like this,” she said softly.
“I’m glad,” he smiled putting his arm around her.
Moments later the waiter delivered a large slice of bread pudding covered in a thick, yellow custard, and a second server placed their coffees on the table, along with the bowl of whipped cream. Picking up a spoon, Zach scooped up a large mouthful of the pudding and brought it to her lips.
“Open up.”
“Ooh, that’s delicious,” she moaned as it dissolved against her tongue, and dropping some dollops of the whipped cream into her coffee, she picked it up and took a sip. Her happy expression instantly changed into a scowl.
“Dammit.”
“What’s wrong?” Zach asked taking a bite of the pudding himself.
“No whiskey. I asked for it on the side, but when it didn’t come I assumed it was in the coffee. Where is that man? What a total incompetent.”
“He’s not incompetent,” Zach said softly.
“The hell he’s not,” she grumbled.
“No, he’s not. After your second drink he was instructed not to bring you any more alcohol.”
“What?”
&
nbsp; Pulling her closer to him he lowered his voice.
“Your father might allow you to get falling down drunk, other men in your past may not have cared, but I do. As long as you’re out with me, you’re on a two drink limit, period.”
“How dare-”
“Do not,” he said in a stern, hushed whisper, “cause a scene. We’re going to finish our dessert and coffee, then we’re going for a walk.”
Kylie’s pulse was racing, and she could feel her face turning crimson. She wanted to stand up from the table and yell at him and storm off, she wanted to throw water at him, she wanted to do a lot of things, but she did nothing.
“Good,” he said, and picking up the spoon he delivered another mouthful of bread pudding to her lips.
Slowly she took it in, let it melt, and followed it with a sip of her coffee, and though she continued to let him feed her she chose not to speak. When the dessert and was finished, and he’d signed the check, rising from the table he reached her hand.
“Time for a walk.”
“Where are we going?” she asked not looking at him.
“Just around the grounds.”
“I’d prefer to stay here and have a brandy,” she quietly protested.
“Come on, take my hand.”
“No, I don’t want to.”
“Would you prefer I take you out of here over my shoulder?”
“You wouldn’t,” she breathed, finally lifting her eyes and staring up at him.
“You’re welcome to test me.”
Get up, get up right now. You know he will. Get up!
She was almost sober, and deciding to listen to her voice of reason she reached out her hand and let him help her up.
Picking up her coat he held it for her as she slipped it on, and as they walked outside the cool night air caressed her face. She felt a small shiver, but she wasn’t sure if the ripple was caused by the night air, or the strong male presence at her side.
Wow, that was kind of awesome.
No shit.
I’m mad, but I’m so happy.
I know. It’s weird.
“Where are we going?” she asked as he led her down the path.
“You’ll find out.”
Disciplining the Director's Daughter (Hollywood After Dark Book 1) Page 7