The Italian Heartthrob: Forbidden Standalone

by N J Adel

  “You’d better get used to it. Directors don’t exactly come in women your age. It’s what I call you. It’s what Robello called you when he mentioned you this morning. The Kid. It’s your name in the industry now.”

  I punched his shoulders with my fists. “Fuck you, and Robello, and the industry.”

  He coughed out a laugh. “Easy, Kiddo.”

  I screamed. “I hate you.”

  “No, you don’t,” he replied, shaking with laughter.

  Damn right, I don’t.

  “I’ll send you a list of trusted managers and agents to contact. And when Robello calls you, act surprised, but be ready.”

  I blew out a troubled breath. “And I won’t tell Raoul until the results are officially posted.”

  He nodded and pressed his lips to my temple. “Congratulations again, vita mia.”

  A shiver ran through my body as I felt his breath on my face. “Thank you.”

  “I should be thanking you. You’re a wonderful artist.” He turned the knob. “We’re gonna be a great couple.”

  With these words he left, leaving me staring at the door in awe. Mike no longer had an effect on me. He had me in a trance. And it fucking hurt. Saying things like I love you so much and our movies and vita mia and a great couple was simply painful.

  I bowed my head, forcing myself to snap out of it, allowing my brain to grasp the facts his visit had brought to my attention.

  A producer liked my work and wanted me to direct his movie.

  Mike loved both my scripts, offered to buy them, provided I’d direct them.

  Mike was in love with a girl he couldn’t have.

  I was beyond doubt in love with Mike Gennaro.

  Fuck.

  Scene 28

  Maggie

  I felt the texture of the leather on me one more time, admiring every detail of my image in the standalone mirror. The new blonde highlights in my short hair, the perfect shade of red on my lips, the charcoal eyeliner, the cherry blossom bracelet, and the ankle boots, all blended to complement Mike’s gorgeous birthday gift.

  “You look so beautiful,” Kyle whispered, wrapping his arms around my waist.

  His velvet blazer and the collar of his white sweater appeared behind me. I smiled at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was cut short and left longer on top. It fell forward when he moved to kiss my bare shoulder. “Happy birthday, my love.”

  “Thank you. You look good, too.” I couldn’t say it back anymore, not even today. The past three weeks hadn’t been easy on me. I’d spent most of my time either on set or behind the horrible door, torn between my feelings for the man I could never have and those for the man who could never understand me.

  Since that Christmas dinner with my parents—especially after Mike’s latest visit—Kyle and I had seemed to grow apart by the day, and that part of me that loved him still wasn’t enough to make our relationship work. I’d given up on passion to be with someone as decent and stable as Kyle. To find peace. But when understanding and harmony left the equation as well, what peace or stability could come out of it?

  I twirled and gazed into his deep, blue eyes. “Kyle… Um…”

  “Before you say anything, I know we’ve been fighting more than usual lately, and I haven’t been exactly the best boyfriend.” He swallowed. “So I’m sorry for any stress I’ve caused you, and I promise I’ll make it up to you. I love you, Maggie, and I want nothing but to make you happy.”

  Shit. “Well, what can I say after that?” My lips stretched with a smile. “Okay. I’m ready to go if you are.”

  He patted his blazer pocket and smiled nervously before he offered me his arm. I linked arms with him, and grabbed my silver clutch on the way out.

  In the car, he reached for the backseat. “These are for you.” He handed me a bunch of red roses tied together with a white, satin ribbon.

  I never liked flowers. They were beautiful, of course, but they could only make me happy for a very short time and then die. A constant reminder that happiness was short and would never last. “Thanks,” I said, not knowing what else to say without sounding like an ungrateful bitch.

  I checked my phone for the hundredth time, looking for a message from Mike in vain, Kyle’s breathing louder than usual in the background. I glanced up from the phone. “You all right?”

  “Yeah.” He patted his pocket again.

  “Did you take care of the security arrangements?”

  “For the tenth time, yes.” He chuckled. “Honey, relax. I know you’re a hotshot celebrity now and everything, but this is getting crazy.”

  “Please.” I snorted. “I’m in the middle of making my first picture. Nobody knows who I am yet. These arrangements are for Mike…and the talents in my movie.”

  “I see.” He forced a smile. “Well, the hotel has a private entrance. We have the club all to ourselves, and I’ve already told them we’re expecting celebrities. The security company assured me the team I hired is experienced in celebrity parties. No strangers or paparazzi allowed under any circumstances.”

  “Great.” I touched his leg. “Thank you so much for putting this party together. You should, at least, let me pay for this whole thing. I’m a paid artist now.”

  “Shhhh! What kind of boyfriend lets his girl pay for anything, let alone her birthday party?” He interlaced his fingers with mine and lifted my hand to his mouth. “It’s nothing, Mags. I really hope you have a good time tonight.”

  “I’m sure I will. Can’t say the same for you, though. I know how much you hate big parties.”

  “As long as you’re with me, I’m happy.”

  When they arrived at the hotel, he opened the door for me, took me by the hand and headed toward a private entrance, where two guards were waiting. They escorted us into an elevator that took us to the upper deck. The music from the club pounded against the walls as we marched to the entrance door. Another couple of security personnel in black suits—bulgy and taller than Kyle—stood at attention by the thick door, holding what I presumed were guest lists.

  For the first time ever, I felt like a real hotshot celebrity, and it was more than satisfying.

  “Ms. Dawson.” The guard examined my face, and then Kyle’s. “Mr. Burley.” The other guard marked his list as he opened the door.

  Looking around the packed nightclub, I smiled, Kyle’s hand on my back. Successive shouts of “She’s here!” filled the place, and then the music stopped.

  Chester Monroe, the lead in my movie, stood on the stage and pointed in my direction. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the birthday girl, the talented MS. MAGGIE DAWSON.”

  A spotlight flared on me, and then glittery confetti poured. I waved, laughing as the crowd blew their birthday whistles and broke into loud cheers. The music blasted again. In no time, Kyle and I were circled by friendly faces, movie crew and beautiful evening gowns. Compliments rained down on both of us. My dress… My hair… My date. Yet the face I yearned to see was not there.

  “Happy birthday, Maggie.” Samantha, my manager, approached in a salmon dress. “This party is magnificent.” She flashed her teeth at Kyle, her bright green eyes flicking up to him. “And so is your date. Way to go, girl.”

  Kyle cleared his throat and returned a shy smile.

  “Thanks, I guess.” The woman has known me for two weeks and she’s already flirting with my boyfriend and calling me girl. “This is Kyle Burley, my boyfriend, the man of the hour, who made this party possible.” I motioned at Samantha. “Samantha DeVries, my new manager.”

  “Pleased to finally meet you,” Kyle said. “Maggie told me great things about your partnership.”

  As they continued their small talk and fake compliments, I glimpsed Dad’s face four tables ahead. I waved at him, and he rose from the table, coming in my direction. If Dad is here, this means… My jaw tightened as my stare landed on the hazel eyes that had always taunted me.

  “You invited Andrea?” I asked between my teeth, my stomach flipping with
anger.

  Kyle leaned closer. “What?” he yelled over the music.

  I glared at him. “Samantha, please excuse me for a second.”

  “Sure.” The tall blonde stepped back.

  “Maggie, wait.” Kyle’s voice trailed behind me as I made a beeline to my parents.

  Dad grinned, his arms wide open. “Happy birthday, great director. I’m so proud of you.”

  I hugged him briefly. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Happy birthday,” Andrea said, a glass of champagne in her hand, a sickening smirk on her lips. The words sounded like a tease, as if she were saying: I knew you didn’t want me here, and that was why I came.

  I eyed her without blinking. “Thanks.”

  “You’re still showing those thighs.” Andrea took a sip from her glass. “I admire your confidence.”

  Dad sighed while I snickered as I noticed Andrea’s cleavage. The green dress showed an incredibly daring amount of skin. “And I admire your…failure to dress for your age.”

  He frowned. “Maggie, come on.”

  “Seriously, Dad? Why’s she even here?”

  “Your mother was thrilled to receive your invitation,” Dad said.

  I looked back at Andrea. “Oh, it wasn’t from me. I think you already know that.”

  “I do.” Andrea smirked again, her eyes on approaching Kyle. “The invitation was from my soon-to-be son.”

  I huffed, my blood boiling. I opened my mouth to speak, but Kyle greeted my parents with enthusiastic handshakes.

  Andrea held her hands up to Kyle’s face, and he bent for her to kiss his cheeks. “You look ravishing.”

  “You too, Mrs. Dawson.”

  “Oh, please call me Mom.”

  I rolled my eyes to Dad, chewing on my fingernail. Dad squeezed my hand gently. “Kyle called and told us he had a surprise for you, and he’d love it if we were there. But it’s your party, baby. If you want us to leave, we’ll go,” he whispered in my ear.

  “Of course not.” I gave him another hug. “Thank you so much for coming.” I narrowed my eyes at Kyle. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go greet my guests.”

  Kyle slipped his arm through mine. “Maggie—”

  “Not now, Kyle.” I jerked my arm away from his and weaved my way through the crowd of gyrating people.

  I sped to the bar where I spotted Amanda and Raoul. “Guys.”

  Amanda turned, her sequined dress shimmering under the lights. “Maggie,” she squeaked, her arms already squeezing me. “Looking good, girl. Happy birthday.”

  “Thanks. Another gift from Milan.” I motioned for Raoul to get me a drink, too.

  Amanda’s jaw dropped. “Fuck. I’m so jealous of you right now.”

  I barely smiled as Raoul arrived with our drinks.

  “Where’s Gennaro?” he asked casually, as if he had known the man for years.

  “Gennaro? You’ve seen the guy once, for two minutes, and you’re BFFs now?” I taunted.

  “We connected immediately. He said he loved my work, and we shook hands. If that’s not friendship, I don’t know what is.”

  I couldn’t find my sense of humor, yet Amanda broke into a laugh, spilling vodka on the floor. He glared at us for a second, and then he joined the laughter.

  I opened my clutch to check my phone. The clock on the screen showed it was 10:06. No messages, still.

  “Don’t fret. He’s coming,” Amanda said.

  Wrapping my tongue around the straw, I shrugged.

  Raoul munched on an olive after he drained his glass. “Well, Bailey is here, checking with the security guys every ten seconds, so he must be coming.”

  I scanned the faces until I found the blond head of James Bailey. He was in a dark suit, talking on the phone and nodding at one of the circulating security guards. A warm feeling of certainty washed over me. “You’re right.” Mike wouldn’t miss my birthday for the world.

  Amanda’s elbow nudged me in the ribs. “Kyle is coming.”

  My gaze followed him as he set out toward me through the crowd. “So?”

  A wry smile crossed Amanda’s glossy lips. “So be nice. Tonight is about you and him. Only you and him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re more concerned about Mike showing up rather than appreciating your gorgeous boyfriend who busted his ass to arrange all this for you.”

  I winced. “He invited my mother.”

  “Shit. Are you fighting? Trust me, you don’t want to be fighting tonight.” She turned before I got a chance to ask her what she meant. “Hey, Kyle. This party is over the top. Maggie’s been waiting for you to dance with her.” Her eyes evaded my glare and stared at Raoul. “We’re going to dance, too.”

  Raoul patted Kyle’s shoulder and winked at me before he danced his way with Amanda to the bouncing bodies.

  What the fuck is going on with everybody tonight? I glanced sideways to see Kyle’s hand held out, asking me to dance. I sighed, my eyes traveling up to meet his. “I’m mad at you.”

  “I’m sorry.” He pulled me to him and kissed me. “Still mad?”

  “Yes.”

  He kissed me again, this time his tongue was active. “And now?” He grinned, instinctively wiping lipstick off his lips with his thumb. “Please, say yes, so I can do this all night.”

  Thank God I chose to wear one of those super stay lipsticks tonight. I finally took his hand. Ruined or not, this was my birthday party after all. It’d be a shame, if I let it go to waste. “Let’s dance.”

  Scene 29

  Mike

  Mike sat on the plane, his chair reclined and a drink untouched before him. He watched the ice shrink in the glass, counting the seconds until he’d see Maggie again. He’d already shaved, showered, and dressed for the party. A black, velvet blazer, a beige polo shirt, selvedge denim jeans, and Maggie’s recent gifts for accessories. All so he could go straight to her after he landed.

  Fifteen minutes later, he was escorted in a black SUV to the party. The instant he went inside the club, he was mobbed. In the dizzying whirl that should have been life and breath to him, Mike plastered his industry smile as he searched for Maggie’s face.

  James shoved his way through the crowd and led Mike, with the help of a security guard, to his reserved table.

  “Where’s Maggie?” Mike yelled over the music.

  “She was dancing a few minutes ago.” James turned his head right and left, looking. “Uh…maybe the ladies’ room.”

  Two flustered girls stopped at the table and asked Mike for his autograph. He momentarily slipped into his people-pleasing mode and signed their papers. When he lifted his eyes, Andrea was coming his way.

  Since when is Andrea invited to Maggie’s birthdays? He stood, his jaws tight, and held out his hand, hoping she’d take the hint and wouldn’t hug or kiss him.

  She slapped his hand away, gave him a hug, and kissed him on both cheeks. If they weren’t in public, he’d push her off him and tell her never to touch him again, but he wouldn’t want to make a scene. “You’re still fired,” he whispered in her ear.

  With her teeth flashed, she greeted James, as if Mike had said nothing, and took a seat.

  “I’m gonna grab some drinks. Do you want something?” James asked.

  “Sure,” Mike answered, eyeing the almost empty glass in Andrea’s hand. “Want a refill?”

  “Yes, please, but something stronger than this cheap champagne.”

  When James excused himself, Mike glanced at her. “Crashing the party?”

  Her lips curved up. “I was invited just like you.” She flipped her hair and leaned back. “I’m surprised to see you here, though. Last Resort still has a good week to wrap.”

  “I’d do anything to make Maggie happy. If she wants me at her birthday party, I’ll be at her birthday party.”

  She pursed her lips. “You’ll also call her talented, waste your money on her ridiculous scripts, and destroy your career by starring in her shitty movies, just to ma
ke her happy?”

  “You are one fuckin’ spiteful bitch.” He leaned forward. “Maggie’s the most beautiful and talented person I’ve ever seen. I bought her scripts because I loved them even before I knew they were hers.”

  “Yeah. Whatever makes you sleep better at night.”

  He shook his head incredulously. “Speaking of the most beautiful and talented girl in the world, where’s she? I’d like to wish her a happy birthday.”

  She downed her glass and pointed at the door leading to the outside deck. “Out there with Kyle.”

  He rose. “Excuse me.”

  “I wouldn’t go there if I were you. You wouldn’t want to interrupt someone’s proposal.”

  Scene 30

  Maggie

  I held myself, rubbing my arms, looking across the horizon of twinkling stars and L.A. city lights. “I know you have a surprise for me, but it’s cold out here. Can we take it inside?”

  Kyle laughed under his breath, taking off his blazer. Then he placed it on my shoulders. “How do you know about the surprise?”

  I adjusted it around me, warmth wrapping me already. “Dad told me. That’s why you’re slightly forgiven for inviting Andrea.”

  He laughed again, his hands nervously looking for his pockets.

  My mind ran on automatic, registering every piece of information I’d been given subtly. He’d been nervous all night, now more than ever. He had a surprise for me that involved both my parents. He’d been checking his pocket every…

  No!

  I gulped, my knees weak, my hands squeezing the ice-cold railing for support.

  Kyle started his speech, but I couldn’t hear the words, the noise in my head too loud. Breathing seemed to be the hardest task in the world. I began to shiver, sweat trickling down my back. He must have noticed because he came close and folded his arms around me. I still couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I could hear both our hearts pounding dangerously.

  He held my face between his hands, the night lights in his eyes. “I love you, Maggie, more than anything.” His lips touched mine. They were cold, too, like everything else at the moment. Like everything we’d had in the past three weeks. He inserted one hand inside the blazer on me and came out with a small velvet box.