* * * *
Sloan arrived at the set early because Bob warned him he wanted to go over a few things. Bob and “a few things” simply didn’t go together very well. More than likely, both men would be bent over a drafting table for hours on end figuring out dimensions and such. Sloan dressed in casual khakis and a short-sleeve blue shirt. He tried not to feel too guilty about leaving his foreman in charge of his biggest baby right now.
The Stanton Building would be an architectural breakthrough. It would rise majestically in the California skyline and give New York a run for its money. Harry Stanton commissioned Sloan quickly and never looked back. He loved Sloan’s vision for his new building, and Sloan swore he would never disappoint Stanton. The weight of the responsibility had him snappish this morning. Maybe he could finish with Bob rather early and zip over to the site to make sure everything was going smoothly.
He raked his fingers through his hair one last time in frustration as he thought of the long hours ahead of him. And for what? A fucking soap opera. His work was only as valuable as the awards he would help them win. And would they give a shit? Nope. The set would be tore down, and they would move on. Worthless. Utterly worthless. Everything in that fake, little world was temporary. Hell of a way to live. At least his Stanton Building would survive the times and make a mark. It would stand for something.
The guard at the door barred his entrance.
“Name,” he demanded.
“Sloan Davenport.”
“And you’re affiliated with?”
Sloan was pushed aside as Kelly walked right past him.
“Hello, Mike,” she called out breezily, as she walked past him.
“Hi, Kelly. Good scene yesterday.” She waved behind her as she walked briskly to her dressing room.
Sloan growled deep in his throat. “Bob Davis. I’m building sets with him.”
The muscular guard looked down and finally found his name. “Some form of I.D. please?”
“For chrissakes! Just because I’m not a fucking actor doesn’t mean I don’t belong on the sacred set.”
“Listen, Mister.” Mike leaned over within inches of Sloan’s face. “This is my job. I say ‘Let me see your I.D.,’ and you let me. Simple as that. I don’t know you from Adam.”
Sloan bit back his temper and dug through his back pocket. He pulled the black leather wallet out and shoved his license in the man’s face. “Yeah. That’s me. Need a DNA sample?”
Mike studied the license and looked at Sloan. He handed the license back and moved aside. “Thank you.”
“Sure. Anytime. Let me know if you need anything else.”
Sloan marched into Bob’s office and shut the door behind him. “This is an asylum. You have the fucking guard at the door keeping the sane people out and letting obnoxious twits in. What kind of place is this?”
Bob looked up from his drawing and focused his eyes. “What?”
“I stood in that damn doorway for ten minutes trying to persuade your Nazi guard that I am who I say I am. And that little redheaded twit just breezes on by.”
“Redheaded twit? I take it you’re referring to Kelly. One of the biggest stars of this show. That redheaded twit?”
“Damn it, Bob! I have a real job. What does this set matter in the long run? Who’s going to really care?”
“The fans.” Bob stood up and walked around the front of the desk. “I thought the same thing as you when I first started here. Who gives a shit? It’s wood. We tear it down. We build it up. No one cares. But I tell you what,” he shook his head back and forth, “those fans love it. Every bit of it.”
“Really?” Sloan’s eyebrows arched in disbelief.
“They can tell you how many buttons were on Felicia’s second wedding gown. They know all the details. Every damn one. And the guard? Mike? He’s one of the best. He came highly recommended. Being an actor isn’t as easy as you think it is. There are obsessive fans. People who think this is real. We have to be careful about who we let venture around the set.” Bob looked sheepish. “I’m sorry I didn’t meet you at the door. I was a little busy.”
“Yeah, well.” Sloan simmered down and moved to look at Bob’s drawings. “Let’s get to it.”
* * * *
Kelly opened her dressing room door and inhaled deeply. She loved the flowers Wilda brought. They calmed her. Focused her. And she needed all the help she could get today. It wasn’t like she hadn’t rolled around in the proverbial sheets with co-stars before. Kelly had lost count of the number of times her character was in bed with someone or other. It was numerous. But none of them irritated her the way Matt did. He walked around like cock of the walk and was utterly obnoxious.
She shut the door behind her and opened her closet to put her bag away. A beautiful amethyst negligee fluttered in front of her face. Kelly touched the hem and sighed in pure pleasure. The piece was a dream. The bodice was edged in silver with a sweetheart neckline. The gown fell in layers from mid-hip to foot. It was sleeveless and soft as sin. She brought the hem up to her face and rubbed her cheek on it. Never in her years of being on this soap had anyone let her wear something this beautiful.
“Do you like it?”
Kelly whirled around and let out a little shriek before she saw Wilda. She scowled and let the hem go. When she turned around, she stuck out her tongue.
“You scared the hell out of me! I need to bell you or something. I never know where you are.”
Wilda smiled and pulled the negligee out of the closet. She held it up to Kelly and smiled. “Beautiful, is it not? I talked to your producer. He approved of this one.” Her emerald eyes danced. “The other women here will be wishing they were you.”
Kelly grimaced and turned to sit in her chair in front of the vanity. “Yeah. Well. What else would be new?” She crossed her legs and stared moodily at herself in the mirror.
The guardian looked at the mortal and saw her struggle. The other mortals were mad at her. Jealous. They didn’t want to be friends with Kelly. They wanted her away so they wouldn’t have any competition for the good parts. Pathetic. Wilda shrugged. Pettiness was overrated.
“And you care what others think?”
Kelly sighed. “Not so much.” She pulled her dress off and handed it to Wilda. Wilda hung it up and brought out Kelly’s first costume. The cobalt blue silk tank top and shorts were for the first scene when Felicia and Matt ran into each other again. Blair was supposed to be off somewhere shopping. And then the pair would make plans for later that evening.
“I hope you brought the breath mints,” Kelly muttered as she adjusted her clothes.
Wilda chuckled and escorted her to make-up. “I believe I did.” She slanted a glance at Kelly. “You do not care for this Matt?”
Kelly shuddered. “Not hardly. He’s the type of man who thinks a woman should orgasm just by being in the same room as him. Huge disappointment. I’m usually overcome by nausea.” She peeked up at Wilda again. As usual, she spoke before thinking. It was a good thing they fed her the lines involving Matt. If she had to ad-lib, she’d be screwed. And out of work.
They arrived at make-up, and Debbie looked approvingly at the blue pant set.
“Nice. Very nice.” She glanced up at Wilda. “You really know your stuff, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” She motioned to Kelly. “Have a seat.” Debbie lowered her voice. “That twit, Christy, is demanding I put more make-up on her. She claims you can still see her skin imperfections. She’s in there right now with one of those magnified mirrors pointing out the flaws in my work. Can you imagine?” Debbie huffed off to the other room.
Wilda sat down beside Kelly. “Have you always wanted to act?” The question was so close to what a reporter would ask that Kelly took a minute to answer.
“Yes. I suppose so.” She paused and studied her assistant. “It’s something I enjoy. I love being able to bring a character to life for others.”
“You still don’t trust me, do you?”
Kelly looked at her guiltily. “I don’t mean to be so paranoid. I had a very bad experience when I first started here, and I’m a little gun-shy. I’m sure you’re a wonderful person.”
Wilda threw back her head and laughed. “Thank you, child. I appreciate that. It makes things easier. And your honesty is refreshing.”
“My honesty ties my ass in a knot.”
“Oh?”
“Sometimes I talk before I think. Bryan has a fit when I do functions because he’s afraid I’m going to pull a stunt even our PR people can’t fix.”
“Such as?”
Kelly scrutinized Wilda closely. “I’m honest to a fault. Rather odd, considering my profession, don’t you think? I have a hard time telling even a small lie. And when it’s necessary, I botch it.”
“Such as?”
“Oh several things.” Kelly waved her hand in the air. “If people look truly hideous in an outfit, I stammer, stutter, and totally embarrass myself.”
“But going out looking like a clown is better?”
Kelly snorted. “I see what you’re saying. I’m simply afraid I will be honest with the wrong person, and it will come back to bite me on the ass.”
Wilda opened her mouth again, but Debbie arrived back in the room. She applied Kelly’s make-up, the entire time muttering about immature girls who didn’t know their ass from their elbow.
When Debbie was finished, Kelly stood up and walked toward the set. She needed to pool her energy for the rest of the day. She was going over her lines in her head when she saw Matt. He was standing by the food table talking to one of the writers.
Oh hell no. Kelly had a moment of panic, thinking about what he might be suggesting. She hustled over to the table and caught the end of the conversation.
“…long affair.”
Sabra looked up at Kelly’s approach, and Matt smiled at her.
“And there she is. The Queen of Soaps herself. How goes it, Kelly?” His gaze swept the length of her, lingering on her breasts.
Kelly looked at Sabra. “Is there anything I need to know?”
“Matt was telling me he thought we should turn your small fling into a larger affair.”
“Oh, did he?” Kelly was furious. The color rose high in her cheeks, and it took all of her willpower not to slap the self-satisfied grin off of Matt’s face. “I don’t think that would be plausible. Do you, Sabra?” She turned to the writer. “I mean, I have sweeps coming up. And Christian is supposed to be my next hot love interest. Isn’t that the plan?”
“Yes.” Sabra nodded her head. She turned to Matt. “Sorry, Matt. She’s right. This has been in the works for months. Maybe another time.” She strolled off to her office.
“What in the hell is wrong with you?” Kelly spat out the words. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Now, Kelly.” Matt brushed his hand against her bare arm. “I was only thinking about you. I would hate for your fans to think you’ve grown a heart or something.”
“Get your hands off of me, Matt,” she demanded. Kelly stepped back and looked him in the face. “Don’t mess with my storyline again. And I mean it. Your suggestions,” she sneered, “aren’t going to make it.” Kelly spun around and went to wait by the soundstage.
* * * *
“Lover’s quarrel?” Sloan inquired as he ambled up to the food table and slathered cream cheese on a bagel. He motioned to Kelly walking away.
Matt looked the other man up and down. “Yes. Exactly. She gets like this sometimes. High-strung, that one.” He strutted around a bit. “Kelly and I have been together for only a short time, but I know how to handle her.”
“Indeed.” Sloan thought about the kiss he witnessed yesterday, and his stomach knotted. Sleep was a long time coming last night. And when he did fall asleep, he pictured himself in this man’s place. The thought irked him beyond belief.
“How can you stand her shrieking?”
“She makes up for it in other ways.” Matt grinned broadly and walked away from the table.
Sloan bit into his bagel and tried not to scowl. His sudden fixation with a redheaded twit of an actress pissed him off. Obviously he needed to get out more. Date. Get laid. Something. Maybe he’d go out this weekend. It had been too long.
“Other ways,” Sloan muttered as he walked back to Bob’s office. The thought did nothing to ease his irritation.
Chapter 4
Kelly finished her scene and walked back to her dressing room to slip the amethyst negligee on. Her head was beginning to pound, and she popped a couple of ibuprofen into her mouth and washed them down. She slid the nightgown off the hanger and held it in her hands. It was too beautiful to waste on the pig also known as Matt.
Wilda walked in and looked at the way Kelly was holding the negligee. “What’s wrong, child?”
Kelly looked up and shook her head. “Is there something else I can wear? I just don’t think…” She trailed off as she looked unhappily up at Wilda.
“Come here. We’ll find something else. It’ll only take a minute. I brought another one in case that one didn’t work.” She turned her back to Kelly and dug farther into the closet. When she spun around, a light blue, sleeveless chiffon nightgown was thrown over her arm. “This is the other one. Is it better?”
“Yes.” Kelly tried to smile as she slid the blue negligee over her body. One scene called for the negligee on. The others called for a body suit or topless. God help her. The negligee hugged her body, and Kelly squared her shoulders.
“Let’s go.”
* * * *
Wilda shook her head as she watched Kelly march off as if she were going into battle. Apparently this Matt would not be her love match. And the Neil she mentioned yesterday didn’t cause a spark, either. Wilda sighed. Her sisters would be watching, and she could do no reassuring. She was stuck here until she succeeded or failed.
* * * *
Kelly walked over to Bryan and posed. He took her hands and lifted them up. She smiled her best Felicia smile, and he groaned.
“The women will be eating their hearts out. Felicia and Matt finally in bed.”
“Have you cleared the set?” Kelly looked around pointedly.
“Yes, Kelly.” He reassured her. “No one here that doesn’t need to be. Are you ready?”
“Sure.” She pasted another smile on her face.
Bryan called everyone to his or her places. “Let’s make magic.”
* * * *
Sloan stood up and slowly stretched. His back protested loudly about being bent over a desk all damn day. Usually he was hands-on. Today he was just pencil-on. This was taking a hell of a lot longer than he anticipated. Of course, Bob was a perfectionist. That’s why he was one of the most sought-out designers in the business.
Bob glanced up. “Go get some coffee or something. It’s only four o’clock. We’ll probably be here another couple of hours. You have a girlfriend you need to check in with?”
Sloan rolled his eyes. “Not at the moment. Sheila left a lot to be desired. I haven’t been seriously seeing anyone for the past five months.” Panic surfaced in his hazel eyes. “But don’t tell your wife that!”
“Who me?” Bob chuckled. “Wouldn’t think of it. I’d hate to spend my evenings ruminating your love life.”
“Wise man.” Sloan smiled gratefully and opened the office door.
“Wait,” Bob warned. “Be quiet. There’s an important scene today. Don’t get in the way. And for God’s sake, don’t ruin the damn shot.”
Sloan nodded and slipped quietly out the door. Bob was right. The whole building was quiet. No talking. No laughing. And no shrieking. Bliss. And then he saw them.
They were lying side by side. Sloan watched in disbelief as the man leaned over and pulled the woman’s mouth to his. He nibbled on the corners, and she laughed in delight. His hand crept lower, and she arched her body against him.
Sloan felt his body grow hot as he watched the pair simulate lovemaking. No wonder soaps were rated
so high. All that sex and debauchery. He sidled closer and stopped in his tracks. It was that guy from the food table and the shrieking twit.
Her lips were pursed, and she let the blanket drop lower on her breasts as she turned to her lover. The man, Matt, kissed her throat and neck while she purred his name. They went at it for quite awhile, and Sloan couldn’t tear himself away from the spectacle.
The woman was beautiful. A shrew, obviously. And a deadly bitch. But the sight of her half-naked body aroused him to the point of wanting to throw the other man off of her. Her bare leg moved out of the covers and wrapped around the other man in bed. Sloan’s jaw clenched.
The world was obviously seeing a preview of their real lives. Maybe the woman was as bad as her character. In one bed one week, and another the next. But the image of her semi-naked body burned into his memory.
What did she taste like? All creamy perfection and curves? Sloan backed up so quickly he almost tripped himself. He needed to get the hell out of here. Now. If not sooner. He was really hard up if he was fantasizing about the shrew. Sloan rushed back toward Bob’s office and accidentally tripped on a cable. A light fixture fell, and he winced. Son of a bitch. Bob would kill him.
“You there!” The producer yelled at the back of him. Sloan stopped in his tracks and turned around slowly. Bryan was striding toward him furiously, his finger pointed straight at him.
Bob must have heard the commotion because he came barreling out of his office and stood beside Sloan. “What’s the problem, Bryan?”
“Problem? Well, let’s see. Your boy here ruined the shot. Graceful, he’s not.”
Wilda walked up and stood right beside Bryan. Her very presence soothed the agitated man. She spoke up.
“You were about to yell ‘cut’, were you not?”
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “I guess I was.” He turned around and stomped back to the camera. “That’s a wrap. Everybody head home.”
Sloan looked at the woman gratefully. “Thanks. I thought I was about to go ten rounds.”
Wilda studied the man in front of her. He was attractive in an earthy way. He had strong features. And his eyes were gorgeous. She stuck out her hand.
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