by Sarah Bailey
I was starting to like Jason more and more. Dressed again in his biker jacket and motorcycle boots, slouching in his chair, he looked like a total bad boy. But he was really more of a rebel with deep integrity. He really cared about his art, and wanted others to care about it too. He looked over at me, his brown eyes suddenly soft, and raised his eyebrow in a question. “What do you think, Sarah?” he asked.
I cleared my throat, and looked to Paul for permission to speak. He nodded almost imperceptibly. “I’m new to the business,” I started tentatively, “But I’d say go with the director. Derek Goldstein is known for both his artistic integrity, and his commercial success. He’s offering half a million less, but he’ll have the most say in the final product, and he’s most likely to express his artistic vision in a manner you’re comfortable with.”
Jason shot me a gratefully smile, then nodded decisively. “Yeah, I agree,” he said. “I think I’d like to go with Goldstein.”
Paul nodded, and shuffled his notes together. “Great,” he said. “I’ll give Derek a call. I’ll draw up the contract, and then you can come in to sign it.”
Jason’s face relaxed, and he gave Paul another grateful look. “Thanks a million,” he said, shaking Paul’s hand. “Thanks to you I can now do this for a living.”
Paul’s eyes twinkled. “The feeling’s mutual,” he said.
Jason turned his attention back to me. “Sarah, can you walk me to the elevator?” I could tell by the steady heat in his eyes that he meant business. And this time I was less inclined to blow him off. He was earnest, cute, and I could tell the bad boy look was just that. A look. He’d proven his integrity in the boardroom, and he respected my judgment. He wanted me to voice my opinion. He valued it. And, like me, he was just starting out in the business. Julian was not my equal, but Jason definitely was. He didn’t tie my stomach up in knots the way Julian did, but he was certainly easy on the eyes. As we made our way to the elevators, I thought maybe I should give this guy a chance.
As soon as we made it into the corridor, he turned to me, his brown eyes soft and seductive. “So have you given any more thought to coffee?” he asked, standing in front of the elevator buttons. I tried to reach around him, but he immediately shifted so that I couldn’t reach them. He gave me a crooked smile and said, “I’m not leaving ‘til I get an answer.”
I raised an eyebrow at him, and let out a long sigh. “You’re not leaving ‘til you get an answer, or ‘til you get the answer you want?”
His eyes became earnest. “I’m just asking for coffee.”
I stood there for a moment debating what to do. I couldn’t deny that he was cute. And I wasn’t his agent, Paul was, so there really was no conflict. “Do you have a pen?” I finally asked.
His smile widened, and he reached into his file folder, pulling one out. I gave him my number. Satisfied, he let me call up an elevator. When the doors opened, he swaggered in, then turned over his shoulder to wink at me. “I’ll call you soon,” he said, right as the elevator doors were shutting, then smirked at someone behind me.
I spun around, and almost ran smack into Julian. His eyes were fixed on me, flickering with unease. His whole face was tense, and he looked pained. “I see you’ve changed your mind about Mr. Burns,” he said. His voice was vibrating with anger and hurt.
My stomach clenched when I heard his tone. It pained me to hurt him. Every fiber of my being screamed for me to bridge the short distance between us, fling my arms around him, and kiss him senseless. But then my humiliation this afternoon at the restaurant flashed through my head, and I froze.
“Sarah, can we at least talk about this? In my office?”
“I’m at work, Julian. This is not the time to discuss anything.”
I saw anger glint in his eyes, and his powerful shoulders tense up. “Damn it, Sarah. You’re not shutting me out. We need to talk about this. Now. In my office.”
“I’m going back to my cubicle, Julian.”
He pinned me with a steady, lethal stare and said, “If you don’t follow me to my office, I’ll pick you up and carry you there. It’s really your choice.”
It only took one look at the expression on his face to see that he was deadly serious. “You’d humiliate me like that, in front of the entire office?”
His expression turned savage. “You’d dismiss me, our budding intimacy, the trust we’ve built up, simply because of one instance of sexist behavior by a notorious male chauvinist pig?”
I bit my lip, and looked away. He was right. I’d been worried all along about being able to trust him, and here I’d shown him I was ready to run just because one industry bigwig looked at me the wrong way.
But it wasn’t just the producer. I was sure I’d lost respect with Paul for dating Julian, and Amanda had clearly spelled out to me how she thought my relationship with Julian was being interpreted by everyone in the office.
“The trust needs to go both ways, Sarah,” he said, his voice hoarse, his expression still pained.
“You’re right,” I finally said, meeting his eyes. “I need some time to think things over, Julian. I need a little bit of space.”
Julian looked at the wall, as though he was thinking of punching it. Then his eyes swept over my face, full of an intense longing. “Alright, Sarah. I’ll give you ‘til this weekend. But Saturday you come to my beach house and spend the night.”
I shook my head, and he looked at me in pain and disbelief. “My friend Lisa is coming to town this weekend,” I said. “I need to spend time with her.”
Julian shrugged his shoulders, but the look in his eyes told me he wasn’t backing down. “Bring her with you,” he said. “I’d really like to get to know your good friends.”
I looked at him in surprise.
“Don’t look so shocked, Sarah. I’ve made it very clear I want to be part of your life. And that includes getting to know the people you love.”
I nervously tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, and looked at Julian tentatively. “Okay,” I finally said. “I’ll invite her along.”
Julian’s eyes glimmered with satisfaction. Then he bridged the distance between us, took my face between his hands, and gave me a long, lingering kiss. The feel of his hands on my face, his sensuous mouth on mine, made me moan, and my knees go weak, reminding me of exactly how addicted I was to his touch. When he pulled back, his expression was pleased. “We’re not over, Sarah. Not by a long shot,” he said. Then he turned around, and headed back to the office. I stood there for a moment breathing unevenly, staring after him. He was right. Despite everything, I already needed Julian. Craved him. Dreamt about him. If I did decide to walk away from him, I knew it would tear me to pieces. But if I wanted to have a successful career, did I really have a choice?
Chapter 11
“Lisa!” I cried out as my best friend emerged from behind sliding glass doors, coming down the ramp with her luggage. Her flight had arrived half an hour earlier, and I’d been waiting for her anxiously ever since. The moment she saw me, her whole face lit up. She raced toward me, dropped her luggage, and pulled me into a huge bear hug.
“I missed you like crazy, bitch,” she said, pulling back and laughing. She was wearing a red, flowing Juicy Couture dress with gold ballet flats. Her trademark glasses framed her hazel eyes, and though she looked lovely, her skin was a bit pale and she appeared tired and a lot thinner.
I examined her with concern. “Hey, have you been eating? You’re looking a little emaciated.”
She smiled sardonically and said, “It’s called New York chic. The look suits me, no?”
My mood turned serious, and she shrugged her shoulders in response. “They’ve been running me ragged at work. Fourteen hour days, you know?”
I nodded, grabbing her luggage. “I hope you didn’t bring any work with you, ‘cause you’re not going to have the chance to touch it. We’re going to hang at the beach, drink, dance, relax.”
Lisa looked grateful. “I’m so glad I’m here. I so nee
d a break. I can’t even go to sleep without dreaming about the slush pile.”
I groaned in sympathy. “Come on,” I said. “Ange wants to see you before she goes to work, so we’ve got to hurry.”
Lisa feigned surprise. “You mean the bitch actually admitted that she missed me?”
I chuckled. “Yeah, but only behind your back. Never to your face.”
When we pulled up in front of the apartment building, my eyes flicked to Angela, sitting on our third floor balcony, smoking a cigarette. As we made our way toward the front door, she waved down at us, and I noticed she was wearing a really slinky, low cut black tank top.
“Hey Exhibitionist!” Lisa yelled. “Cover up, will you? The whole neighborhood can see your boobs.”
Angela took a dramatic drag of her cigarette, and then grinned at Lisa. “If you’ve got it, flaunt it,” she yelled, then shimmied her boobs.
Lisa let out a long laugh, and yelled “Slut!”
Angela smirked at her. “Watch it, bitch, or I’ll lock you out of the apartment.”
Lisa cackled. “I’d rather sleep in the hall anyway. Your couch has had more action than the VIP room at a strip club. The floor outside will be cleaner.”
Angela squinted her eyes in an exaggerated way, muttered “Bitch,” and flicked her cigarette down at Lisa, the red embers scattering around her feet.
“Nice comeback, Ange,” Lisa said, stamping out the cigarette.
Angela shrugged and said, “Take that as a warning. I always resort to violence when I’m at a loss for words.”
Lisa shook her head in fake exasperation. “Psycho bitch. I’m sleeping in your bed tonight, Ser.”
When we walked through the door of the apartment, Angela attacked Lisa. “Missed you,” they both said at the same time and laughed. Angela bounded over to the fridge, and pulled out another bottle of Dom Perignon. My mouth drooped open.
“I’ve got to go to work,” she said. “But I’ve had this chilling for the two of you. Enjoy it while you catch up.”
“Ange,” I said, my tone serious. “This is too much. That’s two bottles of the stuff in as many weeks. We can’t accept this.”
Angela rolled her eyes. “It’s the least I can do for being such a pain in the ass of a roommate.”
I started to speak again, but she cut me off. “I scored a case of the stuff at work. It’s really no big deal.”
I relaxed, and she noticed it and smiled. “Anyway,” she said, “I have to finish getting ready for work. And you two have some hardcore drinking to get to. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Lisa snorted. “You mean in the afternoon.”
Angela swatted her, then grinned. “I warned you about the violence thing,” she said, and then disappeared into her room.
When Lisa and I were settled on the balcony, enjoying the balmy California breeze, the livid red sunset, and our exquisite bottle of bubbly, she looked at me conspiratorially and said, “I have some news.”
I leaned forward eagerly. “Spill it.”
She took another sip of her Dom Perignon, then pulled out a pack of Benson and Hedges.
“Are you still smoking?” I asked.
“Only when I drink,” she said. “Kinda like you,” she added. “Want one? For old times’ sake?”
I smiled in a guilty way, then put out my palm. We both lit up. Lisa took a long drag, and her face taking on a faraway look. Then she turned to me, her eyes sparkling, and the corner of her mouth quirking up. “I met a boy,” she said.
“A boy?” I echoed.
“Well, actually, more like a man.” I took a drag of my cigarette, and urged her with my eyes to go on.
She took a long sip of her bubbly, and adjusted her chair so that she was facing me. “You have my full attention,” I said.
She nodded. “We met at a bar in Harlem, just around the corner from my apartment. I was wasted. I was heading for the washroom, but he blocked my way. I kept trying to get around him, but he stood in my path.”
I smirked at her, thinking of Julian. “Aggressive,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Sounds like a promising start,” I added, my tone dripping sarcasm.
Angela bit her lip and nodded. “That’s exactly what I thought. I told him to get the fuck out of my way, and he said he would, as long as I let him buy me a drink. I came back from the washroom, and he found me.” Lisa paused, taking another long drag. She watched the smoke rise, curl, then dissipate before she went on. “The thing is, he wasn’t a jerk at all. Just the kind of guy who goes hard after what he wants.”
I ashed my cigarette, then looked at the glowing tip. “I know the kind of guy you’re talking about.”
“Anyway,” she added, “The bottom line is, he’s drop dead gorgeous, a Harvard graduate, and he’s working as an investment banker on Wall Street.”
I started laughing. “That’s the kind of man the old Lisa would have labeled as a jerk-off, and stayed far, far away from.”
“I know, right? Anyway, he’s hot as hell, and super smart. But not just number crunching smart. He’s also into art, movies, and books.”
“And, let me guess, a stallion in bed?”
She smiled softly and said, “We’re actually taking it slow. Just getting to know each other first. But I’ve seen his cock, and it definitely looks like it would be an amazing ride.”
I threw my head back and laughed. That was my Lisa. Straight talking and hilarious. “God, I’ve missed you,” I said, giving her hand a little squeeze.
She tapped her cigarette into the ashtray, then cautiously swept my face with her eyes, something she always did when she was going to ask me a serious question. “So how’s it going with Julian?”
I reached for the bottle of Dom and refilled our glasses. “I don’t know,” I said in an undertone. “We’re in a tricky spot right now.”
“How so?”
I let out a long sigh. “I’ve totally fallen for him, Lise. And he gets me. He’s so attentive. So good at reading people. He understands my issues, and is willing to work with them. But, I don’t know. I don’t want to fuck up my career. End up as arm candy, you know?”
Lisa started chewing on her lip. “You mean you don’t want to end up like your mom. The accessory on the arm of a powerful man.”
I nodded. “Exactly. Also, he’s so dominant. And don’t get me wrong, I love the way he takes charge in bed, but I’m scared of getting swept up into his world and losing myself.”
Lisa looked confused. “But I thought you said he gets you? If he understands your issues, Ser, then he understands that you can’t just live in his shadow. It sounds like you’re saying he sees who you are, and validates you. Or am I reading the situation wrong?”
I thought about what she said for a moment. He did seem to be in tune with where I was at emotionally. And never once had he tried to force me into a role that I wasn’t willing to take. “I think he does validate me,” I said. “Maybe I’m just scared. Scared that I’ll take on a role that doesn’t fit, that cripples me somehow, and I’ll get stuck.”
Lisa took another drag of her cigarette, and looked at me intently. “If he’s as perceptive and validating as you’ve said he is, he won’t let you hide. Won’t let you get stuck in a role. He’ll keep relentlessly trying to learn more and more about you, draw you out, so he can truly connect with you on several levels.”
I felt a flicker of recognition as Lisa spoke those words. That’s exactly what Julian had been trying to do from day one. Connect with the real me. It was one of the reasons I found him both so alluring and so terrifying at the same time. “Maybe you’re right,” I said. “Maybe I won’t fall into my old patterns this time. Maybe I can finally be me in this relationship.”
Lisa’s gaze became calm and steady. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you let me meet him? You know, feel him out. I’m pretty good at figuring out what makes people tick.”
I shot her a grateful smile. “He invited us both to come by his beach house tomorrow. But onl
y if you feel like it. I don’t want to force this on you.”
Lisa chuckled and said, “Spend the day at his beach house? Yeah, that really sound like hell, Sarah. I don’t know how I’ll survive that.”
I wrinkled my nose at her, and she laughed in response. “It’s settled then,” she said. “A beach date with Julian McGregor. This should prove to be very interesting.”
***
When Lisa and I pulled up behind Julian’s house in my blue Mini Cooper, she whistled. “Nice house,” she said. “Do you know who built it? There’s definitely a Richard Neutra influence.” On top of everything else, Lisa was an architecture nut. I didn’t know a lot about Los Angeles houses, but I knew of Richard Neutra. He was a hugely influential architect from the 1930s, who helped pioneer architectural modernism in Los Angeles. In his designs, there was always a blurred boundary between the house and the environment.