Fire Goddess

by Crystal Inman

  Wilda walked back into the room and watched the mortal beaming at herself in the mirror. Who had told this child all those stupid things? Why did they make her as uncomfortable as possible? She seemed to be an important part of this show. And there were better ways to dress her.

  Kelly spun around and threw her arms wide. “I love it! I can’t believe how good I feel.” She leaned forward in the mirror and peered at herself. “We better scoot to make-up. I have to be on-set in fifteen minutes.” She spun around again to look at her new personal assistant. “Thank you so much.”

  “My pleasure. Let’s go.”

  They walked in companionable silence to make-up, and Kelly sat in the chair. Debbie, her make-up artist, scowled at her.

  “What did Bryan say about red?” she scolded. “He’s going to kill you.”

  Kelly’s eyes met Wilda’s in the mirror, and she saw the other woman shake her head.

  “I’m trying something different,” Kelly announced.

  “It’s your neck. Now hold still.” She applied all the make-up to Kelly’s face with sure strokes and painted her eyes and lips. Debbie stepped back and looked at the overall effect. “Not bad, kid. Not bad at all.”

  Kelly thanked her and stood up. She took a deep breath and followed her personal assistant to the set. Bryan would either love it or hate it. That man didn’t know any gray areas. She strolled onto the set and stopped right beside him. He must have sensed her because he took his eye off the lens and turned around.

  He opened his mouth to yell, but then his brain must have kicked in. He twirled his finger around, and Kelly obliged him. Bryan glanced up at Wilda and motioned to Kelly.

  “Did you do this?”

  “I did.”

  “Where are her heels?”

  “Gone.”

  “Would you care to explain that?” Bryan began to become red in the face.

  Kelly watched Wilda study the angry man with cool green eyes.

  “There are no longer any heels in her wardrobe.” Wilda met his eyes evenly. “She has a commanding presence without them. Let her stand back a bit, and no one will know the difference. The viewing audience will think she’s a dynamo.”

  Bryan pondered her words. “Good job,” he said reluctantly, as if it pained him. He clapped his hands loudly. “Everyone set up for the next scene. Kelly, don’t stand so close to everyone. Keep your distance. Maybe your height impairment won’t be noticed.”

  My height impairment? Oh shit. The term struck her funny, and she had to struggle not to laugh. She strode onto the set and looked at her cast mates.

  Blair was staring daggers at her. Nothing new there. That woman was beyond a bitch. And she played a darling friend on the show. Her blonde hair was styled perfectly and fell just above her shoulders. She was wearing a blue dress, which hugged her every curve. Her blue stare raked over Kelly, and Kelly could feel the animosity. Blair wanted to be Felicia. Instead she had been cast as the pathetic best friend. No wonder she was such a bitch.

  Blair’s onscreen husband, Matt, was there. The funny thing about Matt was that his name was his character’s name. In a fit of pure hatefulness, Kelly thought it was because he couldn’t possibly remember both. His brown hair was styled short so he appeared to be the executive type. His caramel suit was tailored and showed off his form. And he had a nice form. Matt was the type to take a workout a little far.

  His muscles rippled below the suit, and he liked to flex them when he wasn’t in costume. Most of the women on the set had seen his muscles, all of them, up close and personal. He was ogling Kelly already, and she had to work not to roll her eyes. Matt managed Felicia’s business on the dock, and today she was supposed to ream him but good. Too bad that didn’t extend to Blair.

  What really bothered Kelly was that Matt was supposed to be her next fling. Not a husband, by any means, only a bedmate. The writers were telling her that the poor guy she trashed the other day was her new love interest. And so, the twisted world of soaps showed its colors.

  The simple thought of Matt’s tongue in her throat triggered her gag reflex. And if he put his hand somewhere it wasn’t supposed to be, she would kill him. The bad part being she didn’t have much of a choice. She was the writers’ puppet to a degree.

  Kelly thought of the scene that began tomorrow and tried not to wince. She and Matt were supposed to fall into bed. Kelly already talked to Bryan and told him she wanted a closed set. The whole cast didn’t need to see her rolling around in the sheets with Matt, just the whole country.

  Kelly nodded to Blair and Matt. And then she became Felicia.

  * * * *

  Sloan arrived on the set at nine o’clock in the morning. He met Bob at the stage door and nodded a greeting. Bob put his finger to his lips and ushered Sloan inside. The shrill sound of Kelly’s voice floated over to the men, and Sloan winced.

  “Hell in a hand basket, Bob. Warn a man next time. Does she work everyday?”

  Bob shook his head and motioned Sloan farther into the building. He walked into his office and shut the door behind Sloan.

  “She’s pissed about some bad dock deal or something.” Bob waved his hand around as if that were an explanation.

  “Oh sure.” Sloan shrugged and rubbed his temple. “That would explain the high-pitched shrieking. She could drive a man to drink.”

  “She has.” Bob grinned. “Jon Chase. Season two. He became an alcoholic.”

  Sloan simply shook his head and handed Bob his designs.

  “Sloan. You have to understand. This is the entertainment industry. We need strife, murder, infidelity, and secret problems.”

  “You owe me big for this one.”

  “Bigger than your sister’s famous pecan pie?”

  “You better start shaking a pecan tree, bud. Because you owe me huge.” Sloan grimaced as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.

  “Sloan. Come on. I’m doing you a favor.”

  Sloan’s eyebrows shot up. “What the hell did you just say?”

  Bob nodded. “Sure.” He slapped his hands down on the desk. “I’m giving you the opportunity to work on a television show. It’s good exposure for your company. Could bring in big business.”

  Sloan eyed his brother-in-law. “I don’t need the exposure. My company is doing fine, thank you. And I’m doing this as a favor to you. So, if you’re done shoveling shit in my general direction, we can get down to business.”

  “Damn it,” Bob muttered. “I told her it wouldn’t work.”

  “Her?”

  “Your sister. She said I could pull one over on you. I told her no.” Bob shook his head. “I asked you because you’re one of the best. You’re a professional. And I would really appreciate a hand on this.”

  “That’s better.” Sloan’s lips twitched. “Dot thought she could pull a fast one, eh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Tell her I want six pecan pies.”

  Bob laughed aloud and slapped his hand on the desk again. “I sure as hell will.”

  * * * *

  They worked for hours on the basic castle set and dungeon scenes. Bob showed Sloan what they wanted and the dimensions. Sloan would draw a design, and they would look at the probabilities.

  Sloan finally stood up around six o’clock and stretched. “I’m beat. I’ll be back tomorrow. And don’t forget to tell that woman of yours about the pies.”

  Bob nodded absentmindedly and put his head back to the drawings in front of him. That was why he was the best. No detail went unnoticed. Nothing was too small or big for his eye to catch.

  Sloan stepped out of Bob’s office and into the vast area of the soundstage. Actors were milling around in costume and snacking on the food bar. Must be the evening break. But shouldn’t they be headed home by now?

  He stopped a young woman in shorts and a halter-top. “Excuse me. Does everybody usually work this late?”

  The young woman stopped and looked up at the attractive man in front of her. Christy liked men. A lot. And
this one looked like he’d be fun to have. She stepped a little closer and tilted her head. Pursing her red, painted lips just so, she leaned forward a little more. Her breasts brushed up against his arm.

  “Hard to say,” she whispered. “Some chick keeps blowing her lines. We could be here all damn night.”

  Sloan smiled politely and stepped back a bit. The woman pouted and moved forward again.

  “I’m an actress, you know.”

  “That’s nice.” He turned to leave when her petulant voice stopped him.

  “If you waited around, I could give you some acting tips.”

  Her tone conveyed she was full of tips, and not necessarily the acting kind. Sloan turned to look at her again. “No, thanks. I’m only visiting.” He nodded and turned to leave the sound stage as soon as possible. The girl couldn’t have been more than twenty. And she was more than willing to lend him a hand.

  Sloan snorted as the implications darted through his mind. He would bet money she shared her tips with several guys around the set. Did soaps have groupies? The thought made him shudder as he walked quickly toward the exit. But then a soft voice from the set stopped him in his tracks.

  “I want you.”

  The voice was husky and filled with need. Goose bumps broke out on Sloan’s arms. He turned around slowly to watch the scene on the center stage.

  “I can’t.” The man shook his head as if in pain, but he never moved from the circle of the woman’s arms. “Sheila would kill me. She already thinks I’m half in love with you.”

  “Only half?” Felicia Hawthorne pressed her body up against the man and touched his cheek. “I think we can do better than that.” She brought his lips down to hers and proceeded to show him how.

  The kiss was sensual and intimate. There was no space between them as she moved her body against his. The man was lost. He could tell by the way he crushed her body to his as the kiss deepened.

  “Cut!”

  The man kept kissing the woman, and the crew burst out laughing. Sloan swiftly turned to go and missed the glare that Kelly shot at Matt.

  Arrogant bastard. Kelly wiped her mouth off and strode away from the rest of the cast and crew. That son of a bitch planned it that way. She brushed past Bryan who was trying to congratulate her on another fantastic scene and right into someone else.

  Sloan felt a bump and turned around, ready to do battle with whoever wasn’t watching where they were going. He looked straight across, didn’t see a soul, and looked down.

  Kelly. She was standing there with blush in her cheeks and a furious expression on her face.

  “Can I help you?” His tone was polite and brisk.

  “Get out of my way,” she demanded. Kelly pushed him aside and stomped off toward her dressing room.

  Sloan watched her go with all of his preconceived notions validated. Oh yes. She was a bitch. A well-paid one but nonetheless a bitch. He tried to put the kissing scene out of his mind as he left the soundstage.

  Chapter 3

  Kelly hurried to her dressing room and started slamming drawers around. Wilda watched for a minute in the doorway before she walked inside and shut the door.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “A fucking breath mint,” Kelly snarled. “Listerine. Something to get the taste of that asshole out of my mouth.” Kelly slammed another door and whirled around. “Don’t repeat that. Please.” She pulled the pins out of her hair and sighed. “Sometimes I let my mouth engage before my brain. I’m sorry.”

  “And you’re apologizing for what exactly?” Wilda’s eyes blazed. “The fact that idiot wanted to give you a tongue swab? The fact he embarrassed you in front of your crewmates? That’s what you’re apologizing for?”

  Kelly glanced up at her assistant and noted her eyes were blazing. “You’re not going to spread that around?” she asked in disbelief. “You know, ‘Bitchy Diva Too Good to Kiss Co-star’ or something of the sort?”

  “Please.” Wilda unzipped Kelly’s dress and helped her step out of it. She hung the dress up and handed Kelly her street clothes. “He obviously thought he was too cute by pulling that stunt. You need to let him know he wasn’t.”

  Kelly sank wearily into her chair and looked up at Wilda. “It doesn’t matter. It’s my job. I have to deal with shit like this day in and day out. I love what I do. It’s the so-called perks which suck.”

  Wilda looked down at Kelly’s feet and smiled kindly. “Are you going to take the slippers off?”

  “Oh my God. I forgot I even had them on.” She reached down and pulled them off her feet. And miracle of miracles, she thought she would live. “I can’t thank you enough.” She handed the slippers to Wilda and smiled.

  “My pleasure, child.”

  “I’m hardly a child.” Kelly snorted and rolled her eyes. “You can’t be much older than I am.”

  Wilda simply smiled and put the slippers away. When she turned back to Kelly, she held open her hand. A blue breath mint lay in her palm.

  Kelly grabbed it and hurriedly stuffed it in her mouth. She closed her eyes and sighed. “Oh. Thank you.”

  “What are you doing this evening?” Wilda asked as she tidied up the dressing room.

  “Nothing. I’m doing absolutely nothing. I’m going home. Taking a hot shower. Maybe some reading. Maybe I’ll meditate. Who knows?” She pulled her street clothes on and ran a brush through her hair.

  “There is a small party at Neil’s house. I heard another assistant talking about it.”

  “Neil Brachman?” Kelly’s eyes met Wilda’s in the mirror. “Um. No. I don’t think so.”

  “You’re not interested in going?”

  Kelly studied Wilda, gauging whether to share a little or a lot. The woman’s presence was comforting, but appearances could be deceiving. How sure am I that this woman isn’t a tattler? Her heart was telling her to trust Wilda. But her head was still unsure.

  “Neil’s crowd isn’t mine,” she stated. There. Succinct and vague. Perfect. Kelly turned around and grabbed her bag. When she was sure she had everything, she turned to Wilda once again. “Thank you. I appreciate all your help today.”

  “You’re welcome. I will see you tomorrow. And I’ll bring more breath mints.”

  Kelly laughed all the way to her truck.

  * * * *

  The drive home relaxed her, and Kelly let her mind drift over her day. She clenched her jaw in remembrance. Damn Matt! Tomorrow she would set him straight. She was paid to kiss the arrogant bastard. She didn’t do it for kicks. Not even close. Mozart filtered through her speakers, and she tried not to think about tomorrow.

  Kelly drove through her gate and pulled into her garage. It was late. Sharon kept blowing her lines. Every time Kelly was scheduled to go on, she was pushed back so they could finish Sharon’s scenes.

  Sharon was the wife of the newspaper baron. A recent addition, she was still unsure and nervous. Maybe tomorrow Kelly would take her aside and see if she could help. Maybe not. She remembered one of her first conversations with Blair. God, what a nightmare.

  Kelly stayed longer than necessary that day so she could give Blair a couple of pointers. Blair looked down her nose at Kelly and told Kelly to never speak to her again. Kelly might be the hotshot bitch of Montgomery, but Blair was the real deal. And that was the end of that. Kelly walked away in shock and kept her distance from then on.

  Blair had such animosity for her. And for what? A part on a soap? Kelly shook her head as she hopped out of her truck. She didn’t understand it. It was a paycheck. She loved to act, but it wasn’t all about the notoriety and publicity. It was the performance. Always the performance.

  Kelly walked through the door and into her hallway. She remembered when she was a little girl. She would put on plays on the farm. She was “Dorothy” in the Wizard of Oz. The farm was in Kansas. There was a wicked witch for a teacher.

  It was her escape. It made her incredibly happy. And now Kelly was one of the hottest soap stars in the country. And she wa
s doing scenes that turned her stomach. The simple thought of Matt had her kicking the wall.

  She needed to relax first. And then she would figure out a way to nip that in the bud. Matt was quite a lothario. He made his way around the soap set like it was his personal sexual smorgasbord. It was utterly revolting. He and Blair had been together when Blair first joined the soap. And now he played in anybody’s pants he could. And did. Frequently.

  Kelly grimaced as she walked into her kitchen. She wanted a simple salad. Something light. She took the lettuce out and began pulling it apart. A little bit of turkey. Two eggs. Ranch dressing. Kelly put her bowl on her tray and wandered into the living room. She didn’t see the expensive portraits on the wall or the state-of-the-art entertainment system. She was preoccupied with ridding herself of one annoying co-star.

  * * * *

  Her alarm clock rang, and Kelly hit the snooze once. Fridays were always long. Even the extra nine minutes helped. She lay there in the darkness and puzzled over her scenes today. The thought of rolling around with Matt semi-naked tied her stomach in knots. And if he dared to touch something he wasn’t supposed to, then she’d accidentally knee him in the balls. It only seemed right.

  Kelly rolled out of the bed at the second alarm and walked over to her closet. It was a massive space. All of her clothes were hung up neatly, and she thumbed through them without much interest. It was starting to turn warmer, and she pulled out one of her favorite pieces. It was a long, sleeveless dress with a slit on the side that went up to her mid-thigh. It was yolk yellow and ribbed. She slid on the yellow sandals that matched and walked into the kitchen. First, a diet soda. And then she’d brush her hair and slide the dress on.

  The dress was easy on and easy off. And she would be in one big hurry to leave the set today. Kelly would have the whole weekend for herself, and she couldn’t wait. She would forget work. She would forget Matt. And she would put Felicia away until Monday.