“Technically?” I interrupted, dropping my fork.
He went from laughing to remorse in less than two seconds. “Lauren, when you didn’t say anything, at first, I figured it didn’t matter.”
I sat straight up and tried not to show my disgust, but I knew my eyes were sending out another message. He squirmed in his seat, then leaned toward me, and said with a lowered voice, “Zara and I are not romantically dating. We are contracted to appear to be dating until the movies are finished.” He gave me a moment to process what he said before continuing. “In my line of work, we have to sometimes play a part, on screen and off. Zara and I are dating in the public eye only to promote the movies. When it was first rumored we could be dating, the studio received an overwhelming response. By the time the first film came out, it exploded into a phenomenon they hadn’t seen . . . well, ever. The studio had grossed more than projected, all fueled by rumors of us dating. When we renewed our contracts, to make the production into a series, they added the clause. It brought us endorsements, promotions, and the list goes on, Lauren. People can’t get enough of the on-screen, off-screen thing, and the studio is banking on it. Hell, most their other projects rely on us as a ‘couple’ now. We’re their cash cow.”
“You’re both pretending in order for the studio to maximize its profits?”
“Huh? You know how hot you sound saying that.” He grinned.
I growled. “Jackson.”
“It’s not just us, Lauren. It’s done all the time. It’s simply business.”
“What happens when you meet someone who you want to date?”
“I have to be discrete, keep a low profile, but I can date. I have people in place to assist with that.”
I sat back with crossed arms. “So, this date is under the radar?”
“It’s two friends having dinner.”
“That’s all this is, Jackson?”
Because I thought that kiss was something else.
“That’s what we say it is.” A wicked grin crossed his face.
“Why didn’t you tell me in the first place? This is something you should have mentioned.”
“The point of all this is for people not to know, Lauren. I wanted to see where we were going. For the record, I was planning to tell you, but you beat me to it.”
“I work on the set, Jackson. Why would you assume I wouldn’t hear anything?”
“I sensed you didn’t pay much attention to stuff like that. I thought I had more time before I scared you off. You should understand my reasoning from your reaction to why I waited.”
He had a point.
“Why would you or Zara even agree to this arrangement? Isn’t there some code of ethics or something?”
“Code of ethics in Hollywood, Lauren? At first, I fought it. I refused to sign and told them to find someone else, but Zara pleaded with me. This was her first big break, and she was finally making a name for herself. I already had several box office hits under my belt, but she was an unknown. She came from nothing and had to support her family. Even though, we have been friends since the start, I did have my doubts. Honestly, I didn’t think we could pull it off. I’m a good actor, but it meant I had to be on twenty-four seven. It wasn’t as if I didn’t care for Zara or her family. I even felt bad that her then boyfriend had to step back so she could do these films. Anyway, I stood my ground and said no to the contract.”
Jackson leaned back and stopped speaking when the server came over to refill our drinks.
I waited until he was out of sight. “Then what changed?”
“My sister. See, my family is everything to my mom, and when the opportunity opened for me, she didn’t hesitate. She saw it as a blessing for all of us, but for my little sister, it was a curse. She was caught up in the lifestyle, and caused our mother a great deal of grief. My mom was ill, at that time, and the stress of my little sister’s escapades made her worse. That’s when I started to cover up her frequent transgressions. Unfortunately, there were a few incriminating ones I couldn’t handle on my own.” Abruptly, he paused and had an expression as if a light bulb turned on in his head. “Damn it! Why am I telling you all this?”
It didn’t even cross my mind that what he was saying could be used against him. “I won’t tell anyone, Jackson. You can trust me to keep a secret, ask my brother Blake.” I laughed to ease the tension that rolled off him.
“I know you’re doing some voodoo stuff on me. You have special powers or something, Lauren?”
“Wouldn’t even if I knew how, Jackson.”
“Uh-huh. Well, to make a long story shorter. I needed . . . assistance cleaning up her messes. There were only a few people I could trust, one being the studio head. He always paid close attention to me, and he offered his services when needed. So, when I told him I wouldn’t sign the new contract, he kindly reminded me that I owed him. Then he began to tell me how I was merely thinking about myself. How my family, particularly my mother, would be affected. That’s when I knew I had no other choice. I signed, and here we are.”
I stared, flabbergasted. “Wow, Jackson. That is so messed up. I don’t know what more to say.”
“Nothing to say. I got myself into this mess by trusting the wrong person. The only thing I can do is go along with it until it runs its course.”
“How awful, and your poor sister. What about your mom?”
“My mother is still in the dark, and I plan to keep it that way. If she found out, not only would she be devastated, it would tear us apart. I lied to my family, Lauren, to protect them.”
“You did what you felt you had to.”
He stared curiously into my eyes. “She won’t see it that way. In spite of public opinion, I’m not the selfish bastard everyone thinks I am.” He cracked a smile.
“For the record, I never thought that. I only looked you up . . . well, honestly, to protect myself. When I found out about Zara, I questioned everything.”
“Don’t question that I like you, and I would like to get to know you better. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind knowing me better, as well?”
Why did I love his cockiness?
“Lauren, why don’t we see where this goes, and if you’re ready to date someone like me?” He smirked.
As I stared into his sure eyes, I thought, Oh, I was ready. Who wouldn’t want to date the hot movie star who was pretending to be in love with his co-star, to help protect his poor mom?
I laughed to myself. “So, we date on the side, secretly?”
“Understand that it’s simply business. Unfortunately, my business overlaps with my personal life. Are you willing to live with that to give us a chance?”
Us?
I never thought there was an us.
Hearing him say that word crippled my common sense. I had no clue what I was getting into, but there was something about him that made me want to try.
“I want to give us a chance.”
He let out a sigh, which stunned me, because apparently, he had been holding his breath, waiting for my answer.
Jackson leaned in, took my hand, and lifted it from the table, kissing every one of my fingers. The sensation of his lips and the slowness of each wet kiss were unbearable. The guy was sex on legs, and I started to understand why he had such a notorious reputation. I didn’t think I ever had a chance. Jackson always seemed to get what he wanted, by any means necessary.
For a brief moment, I understood how Lucifer duped Eve into eating that apple.
No words could describe how delicious the entire meal was—every course. Add the gorgeous setting, Jackson saying he wanted to be with me, and it all seemed too good to be true. I kept expecting whatever bubble I was in to pop.
“Before I forget, Lauren, I’m expected to attend this Mardi Gras ball the studio is throwing. Do you want to come?”
“Is that a good idea? Of course I want to go, but I don’t want our cover blown.”
“Our cover?” He laughed. “Let me worry about that, and we can go as friends.”
>
“Okay. I’d love to go.”
“I’ll have Adrianna set up everything. You know the drill.”
“She’ll call me with the date, time, suggested attire, and all the details.” I smiled.
“Exactly!” He chuckled.
We then began discussing other parties they threw, when Jackson abruptly stopped talking. He released my hand he was holding and his expression morphed to . . . disturbing. He turned around and motioned to a man I didn’t see standing there earlier. Our server stood at a distance the entire time, but evidently, another man stood behind him in a black suit wearing one of those earplug pieces.
As soon as he approached us, Jackson pointed up to a corner window, whispered something to the man, who then ran out the door.
In silence, Jackson watched the corner, while I searched for whatever he saw in the window. The man in the black suit returned, appearing nervous. “Sorry, sir. We were unable to apprehend him.”
An alarming expression passed over Jackson’s face, as if he were about to lash out.
“Your men are searching the perimeter now. He can’t get far,” the man said, turned, then walked away.
His men?
I saw Cliff when we walked in, but how many others were there? “Jackson, what’s going on?”
He started spitting out profanities. After slightly calming down, he looked apologetic. “I’m sorry, baby, for going off that way. It was a damn photographer.”
“I’m sorry, Jackson.”
“Stop saying you’re sorry!”
I knew I looked stunned by his response.
His tone softened. “You have nothing to do with them.” He cracked a small grin. “Now, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to snap at you. Security should have taken care of this. Damn it! I should’ve been more careful.”
I wasn’t sure how he could have been more careful. I glanced around; he had us in a pretty tight cocoon.
“Baby, this is not going to ruin tonight.” He waved over the server.
Not with him calling me baby, it wasn’t.
“I believe we’re staying for dessert. They have an exceptional praline cake. Lauren?” He gave me a questionable look.
“You had me at praline cake.”
We laughed, and Jackson relaxed.
I was amazed the buttons on the back of my dress didn’t burst open; I had eaten enough for three people. The dessert was fantastic, and Jackson had calmed down.
However, tonight was a lot to take in. My head still had difficulty processing our earlier conversations.
Then the kiss . . . I had to push that thought aside. No way could I have functioned properly if I started thinking about that kiss. My body felt limp enough after he called me “baby.” I knew I needed to keep my head focused.
I could pass out later.
After dinner, we waited inside the lobby for the valet to bring Jackson’s car. The suited man, who I learned worked for the club, came to escort us to the car, along with Cliff and three other men. They walked with Jackson first before they escorted me to the awaiting vehicle. I slid into the passenger seat, and as soon as my door closed, Jackson sped off.
He was quiet for more than half the drive, and I didn’t push to ask why. It was obvious he was preoccupied, so I sat back and enjoyed the ride. I wasn’t familiar with the kind of sports car we were in, but by the look of it, along with the smell of the leather, it was an expensive foreign model. Even though he was driving very fast, it felt as if we hovered over the road.
Darkness was all around us as we left behind the city lights toward Venice. I forgot how dark that stretch of road could be with no streetlights. Only headlights from an occasional, passing car lit the surrounding swamps for mere seconds before blackness filled back in.
I listened to Jackson breathing as classic rock played quietly in the background. I counted each one of his breaths until they started slowing down. As I shifted my body to face him, he glanced over, while letting go of the shift stick, and placed his hand on my leg.
“Lauren, I need to apologize, once more. I’m not ignoring you on purpose.”
“I know that. You have a lot on your mind.”
Jackson gazed at me a little longer as the car slowed down. He started to move his hand up and down my leg, occasionally watching each stroke.
My body began to heat up, and I felt things in places.
Stay focused, Lauren! My mind kept telling me.
My body screamed, Go higher!
“Um, is this your way of apologizing, Jackson?” I glanced down to his hand.
“Is it obvious?”
“Pretty much.”
“Is it working, Ms. Moreau?”
Yes.
No!
I was not that girl.
I was not the girl who threw herself at a gorgeous, hot, sexy as hell, man. I was not that girl . . . I kept telling myself.
I took in a breath, trying to stay focused. “We’re almost at my house.”
“Should I slow down?”
He stared at me as if he knew me. Really knew me. That look was pure evil, yet started a pulsation at my core that scared the hell out of me. I needed to stay focused.
“My grandmother is expecting me, Jackson. I think you better speed up.”
That should have halted all sexual thought. For me it helped, until one side of Jackson’s lip curled. I stared as his tongue slowly swept over his bottom lip, before he bit it.
Thankfully, we arrived before I could act on my thoughts. He opened my car door and walked me to the front door.
“This is . . . new. Most of my guy friends at school would’ve pushed me out of the car.” I laughed.
He suddenly crashed his lips to mine—hard. He kissed my lower lip firmly, showering attention to the upper one. I tried to remind myself to breathe as he wrapped his arms around my back and pushed our bodies closer together.
He then dropped his hands from my back, released my lips, and whispered, “I wanted to do that all night.”
My eyes rolled back when my body went limp. I wasn’t sure how I was standing or how I would be able to walk. My stomach flipped with nerves. “Thank you for dinner. I had a great time.”
“So did I.”
“See you this week?”
His expression changed. “Actually, I’m flying to L.A. tomorrow, but I’ll be back in a few weeks.”
He was going away for weeks, and that was when he told me? I gave him my angry glare, as angry as I could after that kiss. It made him laugh, then he kissed me.
“This doesn’t make up for you leaving for two weeks and not telling me.”
“Get used to it. Dating an actor isn’t easy, and it’s too late for you to back out now, because you already agreed.”
“That’s before I realized you could leave me for weeks at a time without notice.”
“Baby, I promise, from now on I’ll give you ample notice.” He pecked my forehead, said goodnight, and walked toward his car. “Adrianna will call you, and so will I,” he yelled as he got in.
As I stood watching Jackson pull off, I heard the buzz from my handbag. I finally looked at my cell that had buzzed the entire time during dinner. There were a couple dozen, “I’m sorry, love!” texts from Cary, and a few, “What the hell?” from Blake.
Even though Cary acted like a jackass, I never could stay mad at him. I’d let him know he was off the hook . . . eventually.
Jackson was away longer than two weeks. While in L.A., he was arrested at a club for participating in a bar fight. That caused him to miss an important meeting the next day, which his management postponed until the following week.
When he called to explain, he had the audacity to blame me. He vented that he needed to let out some steam after speaking to me the previous evening. Granted, a lot of flirting went on during that phone call, and he said he was, well, a bit frustrated. Horny and needy were his exact words. I wasn’t flattered; the slurring of speech and the f-bomb after each word hinted the alcohol had more to do wi
th it.
The dating thing was new to me, and so far, I wasn’t impressed. I didn’t realize how much I missed him until he told me he would be gone another week and would miss dates we had planned. Nonetheless, Jackson assured he would make it up to me, and would be back in time for the studio’s masquerade ball.
With him being away, it gave me time to plan a much-needed, catch-up night with Neesha. We met for dinner, and I finally met little Brock. He was beautiful and chubby, in all the right places. Throughout the night, even though we had things in common, our conversation seemed almost forced. As the night ended, it became evident we’d both changed, and our friendship, while amicable, wouldn’t be the same.
Adrianna took care of all the arrangements for the masquerade ball while Jackson was away. She set up my dress fitting for the morning of the ball, along with some surprises Jackson planned and kept quiet. She arranged for me to have a car and driver the entire day, which wasn’t necessary. However, Jackson threatened if I didn’t accept, he would deal with me harshly. That only made me thrilled and scared at the same time.
Ashley tagged along to the fitting because I needed her fashion expertise. While we saw each other at work, I did miss our girls’ night out we used to have regularly.
The driver picked us up at Ashley’s house that morning.
“I could enjoy this,” she said, as she grabbed a diet soda from the car’s refrigerator.
“Enjoy what?”
“My own driver.”
“I prefer to be in the driver’s seat.”
“Driving is overrated. Oh, but to be young again.”
“You told me life is great at forty . . . something.” I chuckled.
“I know, I know. Yet, to start over again . . .”
“You really want to go back and redo everything? What about all your firsts and figuring out who you are?” I shot her a knowing grin. She told me all the seedy details about most of her firsts.
“I may want to redo some of my firsts.” She winked. “But the whole finding myself, I could do without.”
The Devil has a British Accent: Book One: Jackson (White Carpet #1) Page 9