by Roy Street
They ran through it again. Only this time it culminated with a jubilant Tony declaring, “That’s a keeper.”
Sean gave Jenna a thumbs up coupled with his classic sexy grin that had graced the cover of many magazines. Jenna’s whole body lit up in response. She couldn’t deny the mega-dose of real-time desire for the man playing opposite her.
Maybe Rachel and Lexi were right. Maybe she was too held back. Too caught up in her protective shell in response to the breakup with Chang. Maybe the lesson was about learning to let go. Letting go of her life as a dancer. Letting go of her fears in order to act. Letting herself go with Sean.
And why not? After all, Sean and Chang were two different people. Who said history had to repeat itself?
***
Jenna sank into a teal petal lounge chair that practically swallowed her whole. She sipped a vodka martini that she didn’t really want, but she couldn’t very well refuse it when Sean ordered his-and-hers from one of the waitresses roaming the party. Not when she felt everyone’s eyes on them.
This was the first time they’d gone to a party as a couple. And Jenna’s first time at a party among Sean’s TV/movie friends. The host was a guy named Joey Cliff, who apparently had something to do with the movie business.
“Not bad, huh?” Sean stood beside her, martini in hand, his gaze panning the expansive room decorated in purple, teal and ivory Italian modern design. “Joey’s got another beach house in Malibu.”
“Bicoastal.”
“He calls one place Joey East, the other Joey West.”
“Cute.” Jenna took another swig of her drink, hoping it would calm her nerves.
She knew she looked pretty good in her shimmery halter-top dress that cinched at her tiny waist, its short, full skirt showing off her long dancer legs. In fact, the dancer side of her innately preferred to rely more on her body for expression and less on her mouth. Especially in a new environment. She wasn’t really sure how to make conversation with show biz people. Or with Sean, for that matter.
What if he was testing her to see of she could keep up with his crowd? Now that they’d made the gossip columns. Yep, she and Sean had been shopping in East Hampton a week ago and someone had snapped their picture. Within a day it was all over the Net. Now they were regulars in the gossip rags. Put her mom in seventh heaven.
She glanced up at Sean, who was having a lively conversation with Joey and two people she didn’t know. He caught her eye. Jenna’s heart skipped a beat. Something told her it wouldn’t be long before she went from holding herself back to free-fall.
Sonia, a tall redhead who was the female lead in Sunrise Lane, plunked down in the chair next to Jenna. “Mind if I give you a little constructive critique?”
“I’d love it. You know I’m new at this.”
“That last take? Where Justin and Cassandra are kissing? She’s a woman trapped by an internal struggle between letting go and maintaining control. You have to find a way to bring that out. It’s obviously something you’ve never experienced.”
Except, like, every day of my life. “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”
“Do. Because the scene fell way short.” Sonia gulped back some tequila and waved her hand. “Naturally, David and Tony gave it a pass, but they’re completely in league with Sean. And obviously you’re his cupcake. This month, anyway.”
Her last words sent a chill through Jenna. “Food for thought,” she said with a plastered on smile. Then she stood and strolled over to Sean. Whether it was for protection from the toxic Sonia, or to test out her fears, she wasn’t sure.
He greeted her with an arm around her waist. “What did Sonia say to you?”
“She gave me some advice.”
“On what?” Was that a worried look? Or was Jenna imagining it?
“On my acting.”
“Well, I have some advice for you, too. Sonia can be a jealous, competitive bee-yaitch. I’m sure you have a few like her in the dance world.”
“Plenty.”
Sean buried his gloriously handsome face in her neck for a delicious nuzzle, sending Jenna’s doubts for a ride.
“Brushing up on your acceptance speech for best supporting actor?” asked a woman she recognized from a crime drama series. The actress sat on the end of a long airport lounge-style sofa next to some older guy with a French accent.
“Haven’t given it much thought,” replied Sean.
The woman rolled her eyes. “Since the private screening, people have already been floating your name for an Oscar, and you haven’t given it much thought? Like I believe that.”
Jenna figured they were talking about the film based on K.Z Knight’s bestselling paranormal thriller, Aftermath. She knew Sean had a pretty big role in it.
He snickered. “Well, I’m not one to brag, but there were a few murmurs about it.”
Sean walked away from Jenna and took a seat on the sofa. Afraid of appearing clingy, she decided not to tag along. But her decision to give ground left just the opening Kianna, an exotic fashion model with striking features, had apparently been looking for. The tall blonde wasted no time claiming a cozy little place on the couch smack up against him.
The mighty king of Sunrise Lane proceeded to hold court surrounded on all sides by his many subjects—mostly young and female. Before long, the chatter built to an almost hyper level as each one vied for his attentions in a nauseating display of brownnosing.
First Kianna with her somewhat affected broken accent. “Ooh, yes, Sean. You vill valk out vid zee acadomee avard. No prob-leem.”
Sean beamed. “Think so?”
“Absolutely,” said a small muscular girl with short dark hair. She nestled on the floor at his knees. “The way you attacked that role was awesome. It was Brando in On The Waterfront, Olivier in Othello, Pacino in The Godfather.”
Gimme a break. Jenna considered Sean a decent actor, but those comparisons were definitely stretching it.
Next, Michelle from makeup slithered onto his lap. Sean had told Jenna about size-queen Michelle’s legendary sexual skills that she’d applied to some of Hollywood’s “biggest” leading men. Jenna hadn’t bothered to ask Sean if that included him. He certainly qualified. And judging by the little tete-a-tete they had going on the sofa she figured she had her answer.
Not that it should matter. What Sean had done in the past was his business. And to be realistic, Jenna had no claim on him. They’d only been dating for three weeks. Just because the frenzied tabloids already pronounced them a couple didn’t mean Sean would agree.
Still, seeing him amid the harem of star sucker-uppers was a humbling experience. One that was too reminiscent of Chang. And Matt. And John. And Dylan.
Why did she choose these super ego types? Was it because she’d been the youngest in the family and needed someone she could look up to? Or was she just drawn by that aura of excitement that hovered around successful men?
Jenna quietly walked out of the room, glancing back once to see if Sean noticed. He didn’t. She wandered the house, and when she reached sliding glass doors leading to a broad deck, she stepped out. The cold, crisp air stung her cheeks, its refreshing bite a welcome antidote to the syrupy phoniness.
She scolded herself for being overly squeamish and judgmental. If this was the world of her future, she ought to be inside learning to be a part of it.
But as she arched her spine, stretching the kinks of tension from her neck, she gazed up into the clear night sky. An all-encompassing blanket of deep black, studded with countless diamonds. A universe of infinite possibilities.
She tried to identify Orion and The Great Square of Pegasus Aiden had shown her. Had he returned to the B&B yet? Was he outside now looking at this same sky?
Her lips formed a slight smile. She hoped she’d get to talk to him again. Funny how her ideas about him kept changing every time she saw him. Or saw something on his computer. Who was he really? The thought of Aiden being a secret agent tickled her.
Speaking of which, Je
nna suddenly found herself being tickled—literally. Reflex reaction took over as she giggled and tightened her elbows to her sides. “Sean, what are you doing out here?”
“Came out to get you.”
She stepped away. “Looked like you were having a great time in there.” Without me.
He came toward her. “All part of the game.”
Jenna dodged as Sean reached for her. She wasn’t even sure why. “So enjoy the game. You’ve got your big role K.Z. Knight movie coming up in a month. This is an exciting time for you. Maybe even a breakthrough moment in your career.”
“Maybe yours, too.”
She pursed her lips. “That’s doubtful. I’ve got quite a ways to go.”
“Or things could move faster than you think—with my help. For starters, you’ll be on my arm at the movie’s premiere.”
Really? Did he mean it? Jenna had never been to a movie premiere. And this would be an important one, being the film version of such a big bestseller. The concept alone made her giddy. The famous red carpet. The cameras. The paparazzi and fans.
Guess I’m just as star-struck as everybody else.
Jenna sprang forward and hugged him. “That is so cool. I better start looking for a gown. Where are they holding it?”
“In New York City at the Ziegfeld.” His arm around her waist, Sean led her inside.
David, the assistant director, shuffled toward them. “Hey, guys, we’re taking bets. Rumor has it the reclusive K.Z. Knight might actually show his face at the New York opening.”
“Or her face,” Michelle said. “Knight might be a woman, you know.”
“Doubt it,” Sean said. “The writing style is a giveaway. He’s a guy.”
“Who knows? But one thing’s for sure. If Knight shows his face, it’ll be the biggest story of the week.”
Michelle laughed. “He might even upstage you, Sean.”
Chapter Seven
Aiden’s black Chevy Volt forged ahead as he focused his sunglass-covered eyes on the highway, its pavement dry as a bone beneath a blustery winter wind that came sweeping in from Long Island Sound.
The North Fork’s long stretches of single lane roads snaked through acres of farms, fishing villages and wooded hollows; a world where the bucolic scents of grasses and leaves intermingled with the invigorating freshness of briny salt air.
A far cry from the neighborhood he’d grown up in. Not a day went by when the thirty-one year old Boston native didn’t count his blessings. He’d come up the hard way. The product of a broken home where he and his two sisters and three brothers only felt safe when his abusive father was too drunk to stand up. So of course, Aiden had spent most of his days on the street getting into trouble—and landing himself in the juvenile tank.
Who knew where he would’ve ended up if it weren’t for Buster Cotes, or Coty as they called him?
Aiden drove well past Richardson’s B&B to Greenport at the far end of the Fork. With the Bay on the south and the Sound on the north, this narrow tip of Long Island had taken a beating during Tropical Storm Sandy. Like others, Aiden had given all he could to help the recovery, and he was happy to see the place looking like its old self again.
After turning into the retirement community’s drive and parking in his usual spot, Aiden snatched up a brown bag and loped toward the one-bedroom apartments.
When he rapped a singsong knock on A-14, a rasping voice called, “Get in here.”
Funny how Coty’s gruff exterior had never frightened Aiden, while his father’s smooth, murmured threats could chill him to the bone. He stepped into the sunlit room and saw the thickly built black man limping toward the door.
“Impatient bugger, aren’t you?”
“Let’s go, homey. I want my butterscotch.”
Aiden handed him the bag. “Keep eating this and you’re not going to have a tooth left in your frikken head.”
“Better to scare off the nurses.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Had a fine looking one last month. Made my day seeing her come through my door each morning. But on account of some dumb technical bullcrap wouldn’t you know they decided to switch her with a mean old bag?”
“Murphy’s Law.”
“All trying to push too many pills down my throat. Plus they’re trying to get me to use that damn thing.” He pointed to the aluminum walker in the corner.
Aiden rolled his eyes and snorted. “They don’t know you too well.”
“Sooner walk on my hands and knees. A man’s gotta operate under his own power.” Coty took a seat at a breakfast table next to the window.
Aiden went to the perpetually filled coffee maker and poured two cups before joining him. “Finally got my mojo going on the new book.”
“What’s her name?”
Aiden laughed. “I said book.”
“I’m not talking about no book. I’m talking about what got your mojo going.”
“Sonofabitch. You always could read my mind.”
And it was a darn good thing he could. By the time Aiden was fourteen, he’d made it onto the police blotter for robbery and assault. During his years in the correctional facility he’d been lucky enough to fall under the watchful eye of Buster Cotes, the C.O. who could see through any lie and sense when you were gunning for trouble.
“She pretty?” Coty asked with a sly grin.
“Yeah. Beautiful.” He shook his head. “But it wouldn’t work. She’s so different from Wendy that I—”
“Cut it out. I’m not saying you should ever forget Wendy, but you can’t have a relationship with two women at the same time. Especially when one has gone to the other side.”
“But it’s so difficult to—”
“Who said life is supposed to be easy? You gave Wendy all the love you had. After five years it’s time to move on.”
Aiden pressed his fingers to his temples. “It just seems so unfair that my life should keep going when hers ended at twenty-six.”
“Cancer isn’t about what’s fair, son. Life’s one big mystery, and all we can do is give it our best. And you gave Wendy your best. Just like you gave me. Setting my ugly face up in this fancy place after I got knocked on my butt.” He snorted.
Aiden had searched high and low for the best retirement home for Coty after he had his stroke. All of Coty’s next of kin were either dead or too poor to help him. So Aiden had paid all the bills for it. His friend and mentor was worth far more than the money it cost to make the arrangements.
It was Coty with his street savvy style who had convinced the angry delinquent boy in the correctional facility to start reading and go back to school. “Education and ambition combined create an unstoppable force,” he would say.
But there was one quote Aiden cherished the most after all these years. He’d first heard it the day Coty stood there in the yard after breaking up a fight. He’d pointed his index finger to the sky. “The universe has no limits,” he said. “And neither do you. We’re all part of the same big hologram. Go for the stars.”
Aiden looked into his face. One of Coty’s eyes was half shut all the time now and the corner of his mouth stayed locked in a permanent frown. The stroke had also rendered his left leg and arm nearly useless. After several weeks in rehab he’d regained a slight amount of functionality, but he still walked with a bad limp and shuffle, and his arm hung fairly lifeless at his side.
“What’s she like?”
“Very girlish. She’s a ballerina. A sleek and sexy fairy princess with long limbs and big brown eyes. And not an ounce of guile that I can see. But she doubts herself. Doesn’t seem to know how much she’s got going.”
“Then maybe it’s time you came out of hiding before somebody else comes along and nabs your fairy princess.”
Aiden shrugged. “Easier said than done. She has a boyfriend already. Except I have a feeling he’s playing her.”
“If that’s true, then you’ll be doing a good deed to take her away from him.”
“Not sure
I can. I haven’t told you who it is she’s seeing.”
“Uh-oh.”
“You know that actor Sean Risk.”
“No shit.” Coty guffawed. “A movie star? You do have a problem.”
“That’s only half of it. Get this. That film coming out based on my book? Well, Sean Risk has one of the a lead roles in it.”
“I’m guessing the lady doesn’t know you’re K. Z. Knight.”
“Course not. Nobody does. And that’s how I like it.”
“Hey, I understand. You wanted to disappear from the face of the earth when you lost Wendy. But the time will come, bro, when you’ll have to come out of hiding.”
Chapter Eight
Aiden stood outside his porch door on the second floor deck of his room at Richardson’s Bed and Breakfast. His mobile read seven forty p.m. The sky had that wet inky darkness of early January. He nipped a taste of brandy from his glass as he spoke to his rep, Michael Nubell, from the Golan, Mazar Literary Agency. Michael called to break the news about the sudden passing of one of the longtime associates on their team.
“Keeled over. Flat on his back,” a somber Michael said. “While he was speaking at a pro-literacy conference at the Grand Hyatt.”
“I am so sorry,” said Aiden. “I knew Jim had a bad heart.”
“Hey, we all knew that. I used to beg him to lose weight. Even Jennifer in publicity offered to buy him a membership to a health club for his birthday. But he just laughed it off.”
Aiden’s concentration was briefly disrupted when he heard the sound of a nearby window sliding open. It had to be Jenna. The idea of her being just on the other side of his bedroom wall excited him. He took another sip of brandy then shifted his attention back to the call. “Yeah, I’ll really miss him. When Jim and I worked together I always knew he had my back. Now he’s gone. At least he died while doing what he believed in.” Aiden sighed. “He was one helluva dedicated agent.”
**