Emotion caught in her chest at the thought. He’s taken. Engaged. And too...too…out of my league. Still. For one night, I’ll be his princess.
“Why do you hide such beauty under ugly clothes?” Maggie asked, folding her arms across her chest.
Erica looked at her, but said nothing. If you only knew.
“Come, darling girl. This’ll be the easiest makeover ever.” Maggie led Erica into a back room filled with rack upon rack of colorful, silky gowns.
You can keep amusement parks. This is my kind of fairyland.
“Take off those clothes, and let’s see what we have to work with.”
Maggie sat in a director’s chair and watched Erica strip down to her bra and panties.
“Oh, my dear. You have breasts. We must let them show.” The designer pushed to her feet and shuffled through dress after dress, pulling some out placing them on another rack. When she was done, she returned to her seat.
“A fashion show, my dear, for me. First, take down the hair. That bun is dreadful! It must go.”
Erica released her hair from the tight band. The soft, golden locks fell to her shoulders, framing her face.
“Lovely! Pick any dress to start, and let’s see which one lets your beauty shine through the best.”
Erica was drawn to a raspberry pink gown immediately. She looked at each one on the rack—silver, gold, teal blue, emerald green—the colors were spectacular. The fabrics were rich. Fine silks and satins caressed her fingertips.
Even when her mother was alive, Erica had never seen clothing of this quality. Her mother had shopped at discount stores for them both, as money was always tight. She had dreamed of fairy dresses when she was little, as many girls do. At seven, she was completely convinced she’d be a princess one day.
But when the hard knocks of reality hit her square in the face at thirteen, those dreams gradually evaporated from her consciousness. Ambitions of any sort became attached to her hunger to perform. Acting was the only way to escape the brutality of her real life.
Which dress to choose? Erica smiled to herself. She would try on all of them to make this a true fairy princess experience. Life had taught her to live in the moment. She unzipped the pink dress and eased the elegant, slippery satin over her hips. The coolness of the fabric gave her a shiver.
* * * *
Erica swung her slim legs out of the car and stood up on the pavement. Her black, patent leather, spiked heels made her taller and slimmer. She brushed the skirt of her teal blue iridescent, thigh-high dress. Wish it were just a little longer. The new bra pushed her generous breasts up so that the tops peeked invitingly over the low-cut neckline. The slinky, sleeveless outfit hugged her curves.
Subtle makeup emphasized her enormous eyes, made bluer by the blue-green of the material. Her lips were rouged in a dark pink. A silver heart pendant rested just above her cleavage. Tiny silver hearts, a sweet touch, dangled from her ears. A chunky silver bracelet finished off the icy look. Her thick hair hung loose, curling around and caressing her shoulders, inviting any man within twenty feet to run his fingers through it.
When the makeover was complete, Maggie had gasped in disbelief and joy at the gorgeous creature standing before her. Erica was delighted to look so good, but wary about parading in front of Gunther Quill. If he makes a pass at me, I’ll crumble like old newspaper. He’s my boss. I can’t take a chance on losing this job. But I can’t resist him.
She entered the office slowly. As she closed the door behind her, a low whistle made her turn quickly. Raising her gaze, she sucked in air. Always handsome and beautifully dressed, this Gunther was beyond her expectations. His hair and scruff were perfect, as usual, but the black suit with narrow lapels hugging his hard body, and the white, silk shirt open at the neck, revealing some black chest hair, made her heart stop.
The heat of his stare melted any last shred of resistance. She felt his gaze glide over her body like the caress of a warm hand. Her pulse kicked up, and heat pooled in places not used to much action of late.
“You look amazing,” he said.
“So do you.” She could hardly breathe.
“Why did you hide all…this?” He made a sweeping gesture.
“You have a reputation, and you’re…my boss.” She shrugged.
“But this level of eye candy shouldn’t be kept under wraps. I promise to look and not touch.” A spot of color appeared in each of his cheeks.
Damn! Is that what I really want? The tingling growing in her body under his scrutiny awoke Erica to the void she’d had in her life. Working and scrimping had left her dateless, man-less. She had stuffed her feelings away, motivated only to succeed, to survive, ignoring the searing loneliness gnawing at her heart. When was the last time I woke up in bed in the arms of a man after a night of making love? Could it actually be a year ago?
Grabby photographers had turned her wary. Being a nameless, faceless, temporary office worker left her feeling like a pane of glass, fragile and see-through, transparent. All of a sudden, she was visible, in a big way, to a powerful, handsome man. Ignoring her emotions wouldn’t work this time. She suppressed her desire to unbutton his shirt and run her hands through the hair on his chest. And he’s engaged, too. Back off or get crushed.
A deep breath coupled with a strong grip on her desk kept her wobbly knees holding. Gunther glanced at his gold Rolex. I love a watch on a man. Her mind refused to leave the bedroom, and her gaze was glued to Gunther.
“Come on. We have a seven-thirty reservation at The Satin Club.” He moved toward her.
“The Satin Club?” He’s taking me to his special place?
“I do all my celebrating there. They already have the champagne on ice. Look at your eyes. Like a deer in the headlights. You have doe eyes.” His grin warmed her.
“Doe eyes?”
“It fits. Let’s go. I’m not the big, bad wolf. Honest.”
Oh, yes you are. I want you to be. I want you to sweep me off my feet, like the prince does the princess. She sighed, shoving her needs out of her mind.
Gunther placed his palm on her lower back and gently eased her toward the door. Even with her high heels, he towered over her. Sensing his gaze on her chest again, she peered up at him. His eyes were the darkest brown she had ever seen, like pools of melted bittersweet chocolate.
A small smile curled his lips, and a lock of hair rebelled, falling over his forehead. The urge to stroke his rough cheek almost overwhelmed her. She clutched her small, black, beaded bag with both hands to keep from touching him. Just one kiss.
When they reached the parking lot, Gunther started to walk to his side of the car, but stopped. He circled back quickly and opened the passenger side of his red Ferrari for her. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she slid in as gracefully as she could in such a short dress.
He put the vehicle in gear, and they sped onto the highway within seconds. Pinch me, I’m dreaming. A princess, a fairy godmother, and now the prince. But he isn’t my prince, and at midnight, I’ll turn into a pumpkin. Shut up. Tonight, he’s mine.
Gunther got star treatment at The Satin Club. The owner, Fitzsimmons Welsh, came out to greet him and ogle Erica.
“Who is this elegant young lady?” he asked.
“My new assistant, Erica Wheeler. Erica, meet Fitz.”
They shook hands. The older man held hers between his before raising it to his lips. “You are beautiful and charming, my dear. What are you doing with this bad boy?”
Gunther laughed. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just jealous.”
Fitz showed them to Gunther’s usual table. As she walked through the restaurant filled with famous faces, she sensed the stares. They’re probably wondering who I am. Gunther’s newest mistress? I’m nobody, and they don’t even know. She forced a giggle back.
When they arrived, champagne was sitting in a bucket surrounded by ice, and two crystal flutes were awaiting the bubbly. Fitz held out her chair. How would a true princess behave? Let’s see if
I can act the part. She descended slowly and beamed a thousand-watt smile at Fitz. He bowed.
Erica glanced around the room. The walls were papered in a subtle cream and light lavender print. The molding was painted a matching lavender. The table cloths were one shade darker purple than the walls. The chairs were upholstered in cream and lavender-striped silk. All the glassware, real crystal, reflected the soft lighting from the classy chandeliers. The silverware—sterling, she guessed—gleamed so bright in the light, she could see her reflection.
The place had an air of elegance, something she didn’t picture as a fit for Gunther. Bet there’s nothing on the menu for less than fifty bucks.
“How do you like it?” he asked as the waiter arrived to uncork the bottle of fine wine.
“It’s not at all what I expected.”
“Oh?” He cocked an eyebrow. “What did you expect?”
“Something more modern.”
“Flashy, you mean?” He stared at her as the waiter poured the Dom Perignon.
She lowered her gaze. He’s reading me like a book. Embarrassment flushed her cheeks.
“You don’t know me. This is a place my mother’d love. It reminds me of her.”
“Your mother?”
“You don’t think I have a mother?”
“Everyone has a mother, but your image…pardon me, is anything but a homebody or mama’s boy.”
“I’m not a mama’s boy. Can’t a man have love and respect for his mother without being a mama’s boy?”
Shut up. You’re just making it worse. “You’re right, of course. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to that conclusion.”
“My mother has the best taste of anyone I know. So when I see a place that reminds me of her, I know it’s classy.”
Erica took a sip of champagne. The tart, effervescent liquid tickled her tongue. He’s the best-looking guy in the room. Even the movie stars here can’t hold a candle to Gunther.
As if reading her mind, he mirrored her thoughts. “You’re the hottest chick in the room.”
She laughed. “Chick?”
He blushed. “You know.” He raised his glass. “To the success of Sway on Broadway.”
She joined his toast. “How will you know if it’s successful enough to become a movie?”
Gunther spent the next fifteen minutes explaining the analysis of ticket sales, attendance, advance sales, and group sales to Erica. She listened intently.
“What about East West Productions?” she asked.
Gunther cast his gaze to his plate. “I’ve got a little problem there.”
The waiter came by.
“You like lobster?” Gunther asked.
“Love it. But it’s a fortune.”
“It’s a celebration. Don’t worry, doe-eyes, I can afford it.” She grinned as his nickname for her slipped easily off his tongue. Gunther ordered the broiled lobster for both of them then continued. “I have a little snag.” She raised her eyebrows. “Max wants me to apologize to Grace Brewster for something I did. He’s right, I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t resist.”
“You’re not known for self-control,” she snickered.
“Thanks a lot. You’re supposed to be on my team.”
“So apologize to Grace.”
“I doubt she’ll even talk to me.” Gunther looked around the room.
“Oh boy, you must have been extra bad.”
He shrugged.
“Maybe I can reach her?”
“Would you try? I’m not the same guy. I’m getting married, building my reputation…”
“Really? I thought your reputation was big enough already,” she chuckled.
He laughed with her. The waiter brought their appetizers—cold white asparagus and artichoke hearts in a delicate vinaigrette.
As they ate in silence, a touch of sadness crept into Erica’s heart. He’s getting married. Remember that. He’s way out of your league. After everything Amy had said about Gunther, she’d been prepared to hate him, but found herself liking him instead.
She was working harder than she’d ever worked before, but Gunther appreciated what she did. Suspicion that Amy had done a poor job out of sheer laziness and resentment dawned on Erica. Maybe she deserved his anger. He’s not like that with me.
Several important people stopped by Gunther’s table. Tommy Callen, the agent, George and Brent Dobson, producers, Armin Cutter, head of Worldwide Pictures and Selena Silver, Academy Award-winning actress, all stopped for a moment to greet Gunther, exchange a chuckle or tidbit, stare inquisitively at Erica, and move on. She was awed by the number of powerful men and women in the room. She smiled and smiled until her cheeks ached.
“That champagne pop was loud enough to be heard in New York. What are you celebrating?” Gable Allison, a casting director, asked.
“Can’t discuss it yet, Gabe, but yeah, the future is looking good.”
“Who’s this gorgeous creature?” His gaze slid over Erica easily, stopping too long at her neckline. Gunther made introductions. Gabe handed her his business card. “If you ever want to get into pictures, call me.”
Gunther laughed. “Nice try, but not this babe. She’s strictly front office, Gabe. You’re not stealing her.”
Guilt seeped into Erica’s heart as she tucked his contact information into her purse. My second connection. A real casting director. But what about Gunther’s business? Her deception hung heavy on her conscience. Gunther will understand. You have to make your own luck.
She tried to get her spirits up, but with every glance at Gunther, she felt more and more like Benedict Arnold. Traitor! He’s giving you all these opportunities. Dressing you. And you’re going to use him as a stepping stone? Who’s the ruthless one now?
They left the restaurant and stopped to have a drink and dance at Circe’s Delight then they went to Aegean Goddess to be seen by other celebrities before finishing the night with more drinking and dancing at The Sunset Bar. Erica was high, but not drunk. She and Gunther, who was feeling no pain also, sang and danced in the street, waiting for a limousine at two in the morning.
Gunther dropped her first, leaving with only a wave goodnight. Sadness weighed her down for a moment until she recalled the evening. I should be happy. I had the most incredible time. He’s hot. Dancing with him turned her on, especially when they ground their hips together, or he wrapped his arms around her during a slow song. The man can move. Bet he’s great in bed.
Photographers had snapped their picture at each club. Gunther had grinned and eaten up the attention. He has to maintain a high profile, be seen. A few men had noticed her, and one had actually attempted to cut in. But he hadn’t reckoned on facing off with a man as possessive as Gunther. One quick elbow coupled with a scowl chased away anyone with ideas of poaching.
The princess returns to her scullery, smiling, with memories of the most glamorous night of her life. Erica was soaring like an eagle on the wing, giggling like a young teen coming home from her first date. On her way into the apartment, she was still doing some of the moves she had practiced with Gunther.
Amy was waiting up and listened to Erica’s adventures, hanging on every word. “He never took me out to celebrate. He’ll get his. Once you get your skills polished up in that class, you’ll be kissing ole Gunther goodbye before he knows what hit him. Goody!” She rubbed her hands together.
Erica pleaded a headache and shuffled off to bed. She lay under the covers, staring at the ceiling. Is that what I really want? To be a star? I’d make a ton of money. The kids would be safe, and I’d be set for life. Do I want to leave Gunther? Maybe not, but this has been my dream forever.
Resolving to work hard at her acting and cash in on the opportunities that had fallen in her lap, Erica hardened her heart. Gunther would go for it if he were me. He wouldn’t worry who got in the way. He might be a little disappointed, but he’ll understand. It’s what I’ve always wanted. Besides, he doesn’t need me. Anyone who works hard will do.
The vis
ion of her name on a marquee pushed the picture of the sexy man in the white silk shirt out of her mind, and sleep came quickly.
Chapter Three
“I’ve got it!” Erica said, walking swiftly into Gunther’s office.
“What?” He looked up from his computer.
“A plan. Grace Brewster won’t talk to me, either. So, we throw a birthday party for Max. She’s such good friends with him, she’s got to come. Then, you can apologize to her and mend fences.”
“Brilliant! That’s what I pay you for,” Gunther said, swiveling in his chair to face her.
“I think that deserves a raise.” She was only half-joking.
“If Grace Brewster agrees to come, you get a bonus. How’s that?”
“It depends on how much.” She leaned on the corner of his desk. Her skirt rode up a little. She noticed Gunther’s gaze follow her hemline north for a moment.
He chuckled. “I swear, doe-eyes, you’re becoming just like me. Okay, okay. Figure out how much you think that’s worth, and I’ll…think about it.”
“It’s worth a ton, and you know it.”
“If you get a big bonus, then I’ll expect you to buy your own clothes.”
“Deal.” She stood up.
“You drive a hard bargain.”
“I’ve learned from the best.”
“Call the barber. Get him up here. I need a trim. Dinner with Elsa tonight. We’ll be in the papers for sure. Gotta look good.”
She jotted down notes. “Got it.”
Erica left his office and called Mario, who made frequent visits to keep Gunther’s hair well-trimmed. Although she’d never admit it, she was impressed that people came to Gunther to do his bidding. If you pay enough, they will come. She chuckled to herself. The man knows how to live.
Gunther poked his head out the door. “Is Mario coming?”
“He’ll be here at two.”
“By the way, you’ll be planning that party.”
“What?”
“I don’t plan parties. Your idea, you take the reins.” He disappeared into his office. The light on his private line lit up.
Lovers & Liars Page 4