Chapter Twenty-Two
Sarah
JON HAD GOTTEN an invitation for brunch on a yacht owned by a producer friend of his dad’s. It was a large, casual affair and many big names in the entertainment business would be there. Jon said it was a good opportunity to network and they had to go. Sarah wore a flirty, burgundy, flared skirt-dress. Jon couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her when she tried it on. It quickly became her favorite.
The car pulled up to pier eleven, and the greeter opened the door. The sun was shining, and a breeze blew off the blue water. Lined with boat slips, the long white pier stretched far out into the marina. At the very end of the pier floated a sleek, but mammoth white yacht, filling with guests. Jon gave their names at the check-in table, and then the group followed the crowd to the awaiting boat. They crossed the retractable wooden dock to the yacht’s deck and were immediately greeted by a tall, bronzed woman in a skimpy, nude-colored cutout dress. Her clothes made the woman look naked when Sarah squinted. Her long, straight blond hair blew in the breeze, covering her face as she spoke.
“Jonathan,” she brushed the hair out of her face and grasped the top of Jon’s arm, “you have to come with me. I’ve been waiting for you. My father wants to make sure he gets a chance to talk to you. He postponed the brunch just for you, since you were flying in so late,” she announced as she hooked her arm around Jon’s. “Champagne?” she asked, stopping to grab a flute off the tray held by a blonde dressed all in black. She offered it to Jon and took a second for herself, sipping it while the others in the group got theirs. Jon passed his to Sarah and grabbed another off the tray. The woman guided the group up the glossy wood-and-brass stairs to the boat’s upper deck. Sarah wasn’t sure what to make of her, but she clung to Jon’s other arm as they walked. This whole experience seemed surreal. She had been to outrageously decadent affairs before, but somehow this one on the Mediterranean pushed extravagant to a whole new level.
“Jonathan…I’m so glad you could come,” a raspy voice boomed from a large, casually dressed man with silver hair.
“Uncle Phillip, it’s great to see you,” stated Jon, shaking the man’s hand while hugging him. Sarah knew this man wasn’t really his uncle, but Jon had called him that since he was little.
“Where can I get a boat like this?” he asked, stretching his arms out and gawking around the deck. “It’s beautiful.”
“I’ve got a guy. I’ll give you his card.” Phillip turned to the smaller man next to him and stated, “I remember when he was only this tall.” He held his hand up about three feet off the ground. “He used to read Scarlet books for hours while his father and I played cards. Scarlet fell in love with him at a very young age.” He glanced at Sarah and added, “I hear you’re getting married. You just couldn’t wait for my Scarlet, huh?”
“I turn eighteen next week,” announced the nude blonde as she sipped her champagne and gazed at Jon with fire in her eyes. There was no way she was seventeen.
“Sorry, but I fell in love,” declared Jon with a big smile. He introduced Sarah and the rest of the group and then added, “You’ll be coming to the wedding, right? It wouldn’t be a party without you.”
“Of course…we’ve got the date saved,” assured Phillip, before changing the subject. “I’m hearing great stuff about Third Rung. It could win the festival.”
“I doubt that, but thanks for the compliment,” Jon said in a self-deprecating tone. “Are you coming to the premiere tonight? If you still need tickets, I’m sure we can scrounge some up for you.” Jon looked to Isaac.
Isaac affirmed with a nod. “How many do you need?” He reached into his sports coat and pulled out an envelope.
“No, we’re all set. Do you need tickets, Talbot?” Phillip questioned. The smaller man next to him made an apologetic face, and Phillip added, “We could use two more.”
Isaac opened the envelope, pulled out two tickets, and handed them to Talbot.
The group made small talk with Phillip and the studio executive who was standing with him for several minutes until Phillip stated, “I have some projects I want to discuss with you, Jon, but I want you to get some brunch first. The tenderloin with the horseradish buttermilk sauce is my favorite, but you have to try the salmon crepe, too. When you’re finished, we need to talk, and bring Isaac back with you. I’m talking real business.” He glanced at Isaac with a smile. “Scarlet can show you around. It was pleasant to meet all of you, especially you, Sarah.” Phillip grasped Sarah’s hand, bringing it up to his lips, and kissed it. “I am looking forward to your very special day.”
“I’m so glad you will be able to attend, Mr. Leighton.”
“Please, call me Phillip.” He smiled at Sarah. “I can’t miss my godson’s wedding, can I? We’ll see you in a bit, Jonathan.”
For all the overindulgence going on around them on the yacht, Uncle Phillip seemed very down-to-earth.
The group followed Scarlet back down to the main deck, where the food tables were scattered in abundance. “See how confident my father is that your movie will win? He always does something elaborate for his top pick.” Scarlet pointed to a large ice sculpture shaped like a ladder with Third Rung carved across the front. It was three feet tall with a hollow center filled with colossal shrimp. The richly colored crustaceans flowed from the sculpture onto a crystal platter and looked almost as if they were flames lapping up the ladder from within.
“Wow,” whispered Sarah into Jon’s ear.
“That’s Uncle Phillip—never afraid to share his opinion,” Jon said matter-of-factly. “The scary part is, he is usually right.”
After about forty-five minutes of discovering all the food delicacies on the boat, while Scarlet watched sipping her champagne, the seventeen-year-old pulled on Jon’s arm, saying, “My father doesn’t like to wait, Jonathan.”
Jon kissed Sarah on the cheek, declaring, “I’ll be back,” in his best Schwarzenegger voice and then left with Isaac, Sam, and Scarlet.
When Jon returned to the table after about an hour, he collapsed into the chair next to Sarah with a look of satisfaction on his face. “I sold it,” he announced. The group of friends looked at him with concern. Had he been out in the sun too long? What could he possibly be selling on a yacht in the Mediterranean? Sarah had no idea what he was talking about.
“You sold what?” she questioned, taking a sip of her ice tea.
“Well…it’s as good as sold anyway. I think there’s going to be a bidding war on it. Not bad for sight unseen, huh?” he continued, obviously pleased with himself.
“What did you sell, Jon?” asked Leslie in a frustrated tone.
“Sarah’s screenplay…They loved the idea. They were all very interested.”
“Who?” asked Sarah, not quite believing him.
“Two producers and a studio exec—Jason Baltir from The Expendable, Nate Jieters from The Demigod, and Jerry Gradstein from Plantation Studios. I need to get them each a copy by next week.”
She couldn’t believe anyone would be interested in her work. She never really thought it would be sold. It was just a school project. A knot twisted in the pit of her stomach. “It’s not that good. They’re not going to like it once they read it.”
“It’s brilliant. I’ve read a lot of scripts, Sarah. Most of them are garbage. I loved yours, and not because you wrote it. It’s really well done. They’ll love it, too. They’ll be fighting over it. You’ll see,” Jon boasted.
“They are only interested because I’m your fiancé,” Sarah claimed.
“I never told them you were the writer. They loved the plot idea. They don’t know who wrote it.”
“Really?” she asked skeptically. She was feeling a bit more hopeful now. Jon nodded. She paused a second, thinking about what he had said. He was so good at phrasing his words so as not to lie. “You didn’t tell them I wrote it, but you promised you’d be in the movie, didn’t you?”
“I may have. Come on, the role was written for me. I have to play i
t.”
Sarah shook her head. She had written the role for Jon. She just didn’t know he knew it. “You’ll be great in it,” she admitted with a soft smile. “I just didn’t want it to be a condition of the sale.”
“So can I introduce you as a writer tonight on the red carpet?” he asked as he pulled her onto his lap.
“Not until we have the check in our hands,” she beamed and kissed his cheek.
“You better watch out,” announced Leslie as she pointed to her right. On an outcropping of large boulders near the shore, fifteen or so paparazzi were staged with their cameras on tripods. The four-foot-long lenses jetted out over the water, pointing directly at the deck of the yacht. “Your make out session will be all over the weeklies.”
He wrapped his arms around Sarah. “Let it. We’re celebrating.”
“What did your Uncle Phillip want to talk about?” asked Sarah, turning to see his beautiful eyes.
“He has a project he’s pulling together. He wanted to know if I would be interested. It sounds huge, but it’s at least a couple of years off. He wants to put my name on it in the early stages just to build interest. I can always pull out later if it doesn’t go in the right direction.”
Jon looked toward Tom Fallston and his harem of women a few tables over. Nak and Leslie had introduced Sarah to him while Jon was talking with Phillip. Tom seemed a bit flirtier after he found out Sarah was Jon’s fiancé. She wondered if Jon and Tom had some kind of rivalry. She couldn’t read Jon’s expression, but he seemed frustrated. Tom was one of the guys who had costarred with Mia and was on the list Sarah had compiled of possible baby daddies. Did Jon know more than he was letting on? Mia had probably shared the daddy’s identity with him, and he didn’t trust Sarah enough to tell her. She hoped Tom was the father and not Jon.
“Hey, Nak, what are you doing tomorrow morning while we’re at the junket?” Jon turned back, seeming to forget about Tom.
“I don’t have any solid plans, why?”
“Could you keep Sarah occupied? I don’t want her roaming the city by herself.”
“As long as it’s all right with Leslie, I’m up for anything,” Nak proclaimed, raising his eyebrows and winking at Sarah.
Sarah reached out and smacked Nak’s knee, almost falling off Jon’s lap to make contact. As her sunglasses clattered to the floor, she declared, “That’s not what he meant, Daniel!”
Everyone laughed as Nak picked up her sunglasses and handed them back to her. She turned to Jon and vowed, “And I don’t need a babysitter!” She stood up, separating herself from his lap. She straightened the bottom of her dress and glared at him as she sat back down in the chair.
“Leslie, Sam, Remi, and I are going to be busy all day. I’d ask Isaac, but I don’t really trust him to keep his hands off you. You’re going to be so bored sitting around the junket watching journalists file in and ask the same questions over and over. I get bored and I’m on camera,” he stated.
“I’ll stay at the hotel and watch TV by myself,” declared Sarah.
“No, you won’t. You’ll sneak off. I’ll be worried about you the whole afternoon, just like this morning, and all my interviews will suck. You and Nak can hang out at the press junket until you get bored. Then you can go out to grab some lunch, and Nak can make sure you’re safe while you’re out,” stated Jon.
“Whatever,” Sarah agreed. She knew the stalker was the motivation behind Jon’s insistence, but what kind of person would follow them to France? Besides, she had vowed not to fight him on it anymore.
The rest of the afternoon flew by as the group schmoozed with directors, producers, studio executives, and the few actors who made the cut. Jon was so smooth that the conversations seemed effortless and Sarah didn’t feel out of place for the most part. Jon let it slip that Sarah was a writer and claimed he didn’t mean to with a wink at Sarah. She could tell he was proud of her, and it felt good. They talked about the wedding a little, very little, but mostly they talked business, and Sarah loved watching Jon in his element.
They left the boat by five o’clock to get ready for the red carpet, and Sarah was exhausted by the time they got back to the hotel. It must have been the salt air and the sun. Sarah laid her clothes out on the bright white duvet that covered the bed. Her long, silver-and-black gown contrasted with the monochromatic scheme of the white room. “I’m going to take a hot bath before I get ready. Why don’t you go get some food?”
“OK…What do you want?”
“You know I can’t eat before the red carpet. They’ll say I have a baby bump.”
“It doesn’t matter what they say. You’ve hardly eaten all week. You barely touched your plate at brunch. Starving yourself is crap for your metabolism.” He stood behind her and met her eyes in the mirror. He smirked and wrapped his arms around her. Touching her stomach, he added, “Definitely no baby bump. I could fix that, if you want?” He slid his hand lower, pulling her against him.
She turned around in his arms and kissed his cheek. “Not today…but I’ll keep it in mind.” She walked into the bathroom and started filling the large soaking tub.
“We can just practice,” he called, and then he mumbled something she couldn’t hear.
She fought a smile as she peeked out from behind the bathroom door, catching him with her lace bra in his hand. She wondered why he wanted a child so badly. Was it because of Mia? Or maybe he was just being playful. She hoped it was the latter. She closed the door and then checked the water temperature. Perfect. She reached up to release the blind above the window, and with a yank on the string, it dropped to the sill. Sarah pulled her burgundy dress over her head and slipped off her undergarments. She caught her reflection in the mirror. The scars on her trunk were healing. The itching had subsided.
As she sank into the warm water of the deep white tub, she knew she didn’t have much time before the woman styling her hair would be at the door. She was so tired. She just wanted to close her eyes for a minute. She didn’t know if it was jet lag or the weight of Mia’s pregnancy that was making her drag, but she knew she would fall asleep if she let her eyes close.
Tap, tap, tap. “Sarah, Deidra is here,” announced Jon through the door.
Startled, Sarah opened her eyes and called back, “I’ll be right out.” She couldn’t believe she let her eyes close. She toweled off and slipped into the long hotel robe. She peeked her head out the door and asked, “Deidra, do you want my hair wet?”
“Yeah, that’ll work,” replied the auburn-haired woman in jeans and a T-shirt.
An hour later when Deidra packed up her tools, Sarah’s hair and makeup looked perfect. Her dark, silken hair flowed long with curled ends, and her makeup was natural but brought out her green eyes. Sarah thanked her, and after Deidra left she looked toward the clothes still lying on the bed. She was still in the robe. Jon stepped in front of her as she reached for her undergarments, blocking her way. He smiled at her and questioned, “So are you ready for some food? We’re not leaving until you eat something.” Room service had delivered a tray with food and spread it out on the table while Sarah was having her makeup applied.
She looked at him. “Really? I’m not hungry. We ate all afternoon on the boat.” She reached around him and grabbed her bra off the duvet, but he snatched it quickly from her hands, looking deeply into her eyes, and stared her down.
“Honestly, that won’t look very good with your tux,” Sarah said as she reached for it again.
“I’m serious, Sarah,” he stated as he walked over to the small table with the bra still in his hand. “You hardly ate anything this afternoon. There’s bread, chicken, cheese, and fruit. It’s not much, but you’re having something or we’re not leaving,” he demanded.
She picked a grape off the tray and popped it in her mouth. She glared at him. Why was he being so obstinate? “May I have my clothes back?”
He shook his head no and picked up a bite-sized piece of chicken. He held it in front of her nose, pinched between his fingers
.
“I hope your hands are clean,” she said and then opened her mouth. She knew he wouldn’t let it go until she ate something. He had a second and then third piece in front of her face before she had a chance to say any more. “May I have my clothes?”
He tore off a chunk of the baguette and passed it to her. She took a small bite of it and glared at him. He apprehensively handed her the garment in question. She set the rest of the bread on the table, scooped up her clothes from the bed, and walked to the bathroom, not bothering to close the door. She scowled at him while she got dressed. “If I have a baby bump in any pictures, you’re going to pay.”
He followed her and stood in the doorway fastening his cufflinks. “You have to eat. The press is going to say you’re pregnant no matter what. Even if you don’t have a baby bump, they’ll doctor the pictures. Next week it will be a new story—they’ll say you left me for a woman, and then the week after that you’ll be pregnant again with an alien baby. You just have to stop worrying about the tabloids and enjoy life. I believe you told me the same exact words last summer.”
“I just want to look the best I can. They are always comparing me to Mia, and they already loath me for breaking up the perfect couple. I know I didn’t, but the media and the fans want you two together. They hate me.”
“You’re way more beautiful than Mia. Smarter, sweeter, sexier. Everyone can see that. That’s why they’re jealous.” His eyes swept her body as she slipped into her dress.
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.” She chuckled sarcastically. “Would you zip me up, please?” She turned her back to him.
He leaned down and kissed the small of her back before zipping the gown. She shivered slightly when his lips touched her, and he smiled. “It’s good to see I can still affect you.”
Between the Lies (Between the Raindrops #2) Page 20