The Princess and the Porn Star

by Lauren Gallagher

  My face warmed again. “I broke it. A few years ago.” I shifted in my seat and quickly said, “So, this isn’t your usual kind of…um…production, is it?” Way to be articulate and not at all awkward, Rachel. Oh well. At least the subject was changed.

  Lee gave a quiet laugh and shook his head. “Not really, no.” He glanced up. “And I’m guessing I’m not your usual backup dancer?”

  It was my turn for a soft laugh. “No.”

  We exchanged a glance, then both dropped our gazes. I wasn’t sure what to say. How do you follow a conversation like that, especially when that conversation followed an almost-foot-massage from your porn star co-star?

  Buck stood. “Well, I’ll leave you alone.” He gestured at his own tight leather pants. “I need to change clothes myself before I suffocate.”

  I laughed again. “So I’m not the only one who can’t move or breathe?”

  “God, no.” He tugged at the collar of the painted-on shirt. “I’m not used to putting something like this on and leaving—” He stopped abruptly, his cheeks coloring again.

  “And leaving, what?”

  “Leaving it on,” he said.

  “What does—ooh. Right.”

  We looked at each other again and laughed.

  “Well,” I said. “I guess I should see if I can walk.”

  “Need a hand?”

  I didn’t know if I did or not, but at this point, I wasn’t going to turn him away, so when he extended his hand, I clasped mine around his forearm. Leather creaked on both of us as he helped me ease myself up out of my chair. I carefully tested my ankle before putting weight on it, and to my surprise, it wasn’t bad. Still very tender, but bearable.

  “Wow,” I said. “That feels so much better.”

  “Probably doesn’t hurt you’re out of those shoes.”

  “Probably not, no. But thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said.

  Our eyes met.

  Then we both lowered our gazes at the same time, and I realized we hadn’t let go of each other’s forearms. At the same time, we abruptly released each other, ending the physical connection and ratcheting up the awkwardness.

  I coughed into my fist. “Thank you again. For the… the…” I gestured at the jar. “Whatever that is. I really appreciate it.”

  “Any time.”

  And once again, we were silent.

  “Listen, um…” He cleared his throat and struggled to hold my gaze. “I know this is totally out of the blue, but…” He hesitated. “Would you be interested in getting a drink later?”

  “I, well…” I bit my lip. “I don’t drink.”

  His brow furrowed, and he cautiously asked, “Coffee, then?”

  “I have an appointment just before seven.” I paused. “But maybe later this evening? Maybe at Coffee Republic?”

  “I can meet you there. Is eight too close to your appointment?”

  A little swell of excitement rose in my chest. “No, eight’s perfect.”

  He smiled, and it was a shyer smile than I ever thought I’d see on a porn star’s face. “Great. I’ll see you then.”

  I returned the smile. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  He started to say something, but at just that moment, Quinn came strolling in through the door and stopped so suddenly he almost fell on his butt.

  His lips parted, and his eyes darted back and forth between Lee and me.

  I gestured at him. “This is Quinn, my assistant. Quinn, this is…” Lee? Buck? I turned to Lee. “I’m not sure how you prefer to be introduced.”

  Lee extended his hand to Quinn. “Buck.”

  “Hi. I’m…” Quinn, who was usually far more articulate, shook Lee’s hand. “I’m Quinn.”

  “Right.” Lee chuckled as he let go of Quinn’s hand. “She mentioned that.”

  “Oh. Yeah. She did, didn’t she?” Quinn’s gaze slid toward me, and that we are going to talk about this, madam crease appeared on his forehead for a split second before he looked at Lee again. “Nice to meet you, Buck.”

  “Likewise.” Lee hooked his thumb in his pocket. “Well, I should get going.” He handed me the little white jar. “Hang on to that in case you need it.”

  I hesitated. “Don’t you need it?”

  “I have plenty at home. I stay well-stocked just in case the company goes under or something.”

  “Great. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Anyway, I’ll see you to—” He stopped abruptly, glancing at Quinn. When he looked back at me, he said, “Tomorrow. I’ll see you tomorrow.” His eyebrows rose slightly.

  “Eight o’clock,” I said and winked.

  “Right. Eight o’clock.”

  “Um.” Quinn raised his index finger. “Jim wants you onstage at seven thirty.”

  “Seven thirty.” Lee nodded. “Got it.” He and I exchanged knowing grins.

  He turned to go, and Quinn stared slack-jawed as Lee disappeared out of the dressing room. Then he did an about-face and looked at me, eyes wide behind his rectangular glasses.

  “The fuck?” He pointed at the door behind him. “That was… You…”

  “Aww, Quinn.” I clasped my hands over my heart. “You are so adorable when you’re starstruck.”

  “Starstruck?” he squeaked. “I think not. I’m mildly fucking gobsmacked because I just walked in here and found you flirting with Buck. Harder.” He folded his arms across his chest, cocked his hips and tilted his head sharply. “And don’t you dare even try to tell me that’s not what I saw.”

  I just laughed and shook my head. “Quinn, you’re—”

  “You listen here, Little Miss I-Didn’t-Want-to-Work-with-a-Porn-Star.” He wagged a finger at me. “I know what I saw, and what I saw was you making flirty little fluttery eyes at Buck Harder.”

  I thought about protesting, but I was in too good a mood. I folded my arms across my leather-covered chest and gave him a defiant look. “And what if I was?”

  Quinn’s eyes could not possibly have gotten any bigger. Then he dropped the suspicious front, rubbing his hands together and asking in a conspiratorial whisper, “Did he flirt back? Is he nice? Ooh, tell me, tell me!”

  I couldn’t help giggling. “Quinn, you are such a dork.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. Details, woman!”

  “There isn’t really much to tell,” I said. “You saw most of what happened.”

  “Mm-hmm. Go on.”

  “Go on? I don’t know what you want to hear. Well, I mean…” I gave a noncommittal shrug and pretended to be interested in something on my fingernail. “We are getting coffee tonight, but that—”

  “You have a date?” He clapped both hands over his mouth and glanced back at the door. Cheeks reddening, he lowered his hands and whispered, “Seriously?”

  “Oh, come on. It’s just coffee.”

  “But it’s with—” He jumped like someone had shocked him. Then he put his hand on top of my head. “You’re shorter than me again. That means…” Slowly and more than a little dramatically, he let his gaze drift downward. “The shoes. The shoes are off, madam.” He took his hand off my head and pointed sharply at my feet. “There is no way you got those off by yourself while you’re still wearing that torture device you call a dress.”

  And there was no way my face wasn’t glowing bright red at that moment.

  “Okay, okay.” I sighed. “Look, my ankle hurt. He gave me this stuff.” I held up the jar. “And in this dress, I couldn’t reach my feet if they were on fire, so he helped me with my shoes and…” My eyes darted toward the jar. Then to Quinn. “Okay, I swear, it doesn’t sound nearly as—”

  “Buck Harder took off your shoes and rubbed cream all over your feet.”

  “Foot.”

  “So is he going to do the other one after coffee tonight?”

  I smacked his arm and rolled my eyes. “Very funny.”

  “What?” He showed his palms. “Seems like a legitimate question.”

  �
��Uh-huh.”

  The corner of Quinn’s moth rose a little. “So what’s he like?”

  I shrugged. “He’s nice.”

  “Nice?” Quinn huffed. “Could you be a little more vague?”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Well, is he nice in the sense that he doesn’t push old ladies down escalators? Or are you already mentally waiting in line at the DMV to change your name to Rachel Harder?”

  I burst out laughing. “Okay, as far as I can tell, he doesn’t push old ladies down escalators.”

  “That’s a relief,” he said with mock seriousness.

  “And… I don’t know. He’s just nice. To be honest, I kept forgetting I was talking to a porn star.”

  “That’s because he had his pants on, sweetheart.”

  “Quinn!”

  “I’m just saying.” He put his hands on my shoulders and gently turned me around.

  “It’s not a date,” I insisted as I pulled my ponytail up to keep it out of his way.

  Quinn tugged at the zipper on my dress. “Whatever, love. Let’s just get you out of this thing and off to your appointment.” Under his breath, he added, “And your date.”

  “It’s not a date!”

  “If you say so, darling.”

  “It’s just coffee.” My lungs finally expanded with a proper deep breath. My God, it felt good to breathe without restriction. Looking over my shoulder, I said, “I do say so.”

  “And I don’t believe you.”

  I wasn’t sure if I did either.

  Chapter Four

  Lee

  At a little past eight, I walked into the coffee shop. It was one of those hole-in-the-wall places that the college kids and insomniac screenwriters frequented, sucking down coffee while they pounded on laptops and talked about how badly this or that politician was fucking up the universe. The kind of place with a microphone standing in the middle of a stage that was—thank God—currently deserted. Poetry slams were terrible mood killers on first dates.

  First dates? Dude. It’s not a fucking—

  Oh, Jesus. There she is.

  Rachel was dressed down now. Sitting at a table beside the window, hands folded between a pair of sunglasses and a steaming coffee cup, she looked like a regular everyday woman. Her hair was pulled back into a baseball cap, shading her eyes and obscuring her face enough to avoid recognition by anyone who wasn’t looking for her. The faded black Star Wars T-shirt was a surprise, one that tripped all my inner geek’s buttons.

  Well, sort of. She didn’t stand out as Olivia Taylor the pop princess, and she didn’t have throngs of screaming fans trying to get her autograph, but she didn’t exactly blend in either. The woman had a quiet presence about her. She was one of those people who walked into a room and every head turned, like she had a subtle magnetism that couldn’t not draw attention. More and more, I got the impression it was impossible to be unaware of her. Maybe someone wouldn’t recognize her beneath the bill of her cap or dressed in street clothes, but they’d notice her.

  Right then, she looked up, and when she saw me, smiled. I returned the smile and made a just-a-minute gesture, to which she responded with a single nod. Then I got into the short line at the counter.

  I perused the selection in the case, trying to find something edible among the organic this, conscientiously grown that with free-range frosting or whatever. Danishes were always a safe bet. At least no one usually put bean sprouts or tofu into those. Sometimes I really missed those coffee shops back in Tucson. At least then I could get something unhealthy and flavorful to accompany my high-octane caffeine consumption.

  When I reached the register, I said, “Grande iced latte, please. And a cheese Danish.”

  “Grande iced latte.” She wrote my order on the side of the cup and handed it off to the other barista. Then she pulled the Danish out of the case, set it on a plate and slid it toward me. “That’ll be seven twenty-five.”

  I opened my wallet and pulled out a ten. As I paid for my order, the other two baristas eyed Olivia.

  “I really think it’s her,” one whispered.

  “No way.” The other snorted derisively. “She looks way too put-together. Olivia Taylor’s a hot mess.”

  The first shrugged. “Maybe she’s gotten herself back on track.”

  “Yeah right,” said the barista at the register. She rolled her eyes. As she handed me my change, she said to me, “Kind of hard to un-wreck a train, right?”

  I gritted my teeth but didn’t say anything.

  “Sad, wasn’t it?” the first barista said. “Poor girl.”

  “Pathetic is more like it.” The cashier slammed the cash drawer emphatically. “How do people do that, anyway? Have the world at your feet and then piss it away like that?” She sighed as she dug some quarters and a couple of ones out of the drawer. “Bet she wouldn’t have taken a career like that for granted if she’d ever worked in a place like this.”

  Clicking her tongue, the first shook her head. “What a shame.”

  “It is a shame.” I took my coffee and plate and quietly added, “Can’t think of a much bigger shame than someone trying to recover from a breakdown like that in front of a world full of armchair experts.”

  I didn’t wait for a reaction. Coffee in one hand, plate in the other, I got the hell away from the counter and made my way to the table where Rachel sat. I rolled my shoulders to shrug away the annoyance and smiled as I approached.

  “Hey,” I said as I pulled up a seat. “How’s your foot?”

  “Much better.” She smiled back. “Comfortable shoes and a shot of cortisone make a world of difference.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me. Are you going to be okay for tomorrow’s shoot?”

  She tapped the rim of her coffee cup with her fingertips. “Guess we’ll see. As long as I don’t fall and break my neck, I should be all right.”

  “Yeah, don’t do that.”

  Rachel laughed softly. “I won’t. The last thing I need is someone having to break the news to my mother that I fell, broke my neck and bit the dust while I was on-set with a porn star.”

  I laughed. “Well, hopefully they’d be more tactful than that…”

  She snickered. “Hopefully.” She sipped her coffee. As she set the cup down again, she said, “Mind if I ask you something? Out of curiosity?”

  “Why do I work in porn?”

  She laughed. “How did you know?”

  I grinned. “Everyone asks sooner or later.”

  “I could’ve been asking if you liked dogs.”

  “Were you?”

  She giggled and shook her head. “No.”

  “Didn’t think so.”

  “So, why do you work in porn?”

  “Why not?” I shrugged. She opened her mouth to speak but didn’t seem to know what else to say. I laughed again and idly picked at my Danish. “It wasn’t what I planned to do when I moved here, if that’s what you mean.”

  She leaned forward, resting one of her forearms on the edge of the table. “What did you plan to do?”

  “Act.” I laughed and played with the straw in my drink. “Who doesn’t, right? Everyone comes here to get into the entertainment business.”

  “Very true,” she said. “So, what kind of actor?”

  “Not the one I ended up being, that’s for sure.” I sliced off a piece of the Danish with my fork. “As for how I got into the industry I did? It was because of an audition I did for a sitcom, believe it or not.”

  Under the bill of her cap, her eyebrows jumped. “Really? You were auditioning for a sitcom?”

  “Yep. And I thought I did really well, actually. Best audition I’d had yet.” I grimaced. “The casting director thought differently.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah. He told me I was so devoid of talent, I’d never even be able to land a role in a two-bit porno.”

  Rachel smothered a laugh. “Oh my God. That’s…a little mean, isn’t it?”

  “Just a little,�
�� he said. “But you know how it is. Music and entertainment are brutal industries. They’re not there to be nice.”

  “But still. A two-bit porno?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, it stung at the time. Looking back, he was probably right about my lack of acting ability.”

  “But not your ability to get into a porno.”

  Laughing, I shook my head. “Nope. And I was so pissed off by that comment, I decided to prove him wrong by doing exactly that. I had this whole vindictive, immature plan to be in a porno and then send the DVD to his office with a little ‘fuck you’ note attached.”

  “Which I’m assuming you didn’t do?”

  “Nah. Except about the time I’d cooled off, I actually landed a role.”

  “And you took it?”

  I shrugged again. “Why not? I mean, by that point, rent was coming up due, and I was kind of intrigued by the idea of actually doing a porno. Money wasn’t great, but I thought the bragging rights would be.”

  “The money wasn’t great?”

  “Oh, guys usually don’t get paid for shit in this business. It’s the one industry where women definitely out-earn men, and by a huge margin.”

  She cocked her head, and I followed her gaze to the stainless Rolex on my left wrist as she said, “You seem to have done all right.”

  “I have,” I said. “I got lucky, believe me. Scraped by for a while, and then got this big-shot porn actress’s attention. She wanted to do a scene with me, and that put me on an even bigger-shot director’s radar. After that, I started getting paid a hell of a lot more.”

  “So, even with a stage name, do people know?” she asked. “Your family, friends, that kind of thing?”

  I sighed and looked into my drink. “A lot of them do, yeah. Used to be the only way anyone would find you was if they went into one of those adult shops, but now it just takes a rumor and a Google search.”

  “What do they think of it?”

  “Well, my folks weren’t thrilled when they found out. My brother still won’t talk to me, but my parents and my sister have gotten over it.” I managed a halfhearted grin. “We just don’t discuss it over Christmas dinner.”

  She snorted. “I don’t imagine you do.” Then her expression turned shyer, and she lowered her chin a little, like she was burying it in a nonexistent high collar. “And, if you don’t mind my asking, is…”