by Virna DePaul
Fuck. That’s a rotten thing to think, where Marissa is concerned. It would mean I’m just using her to get this part. But wait, isn’t that what I’m doing? I look at Marissa, who looks so fresh and innocent and beautiful. Yes, I’m using her, but she’s using me, too.
I smile stiffly at him, hoping that I can speak to him in private later and reassure him that Marissa is my one and only, the love of my life. Noble moves on and I start to get into the groove of the party. I do the requisite small talk with Dakota, just so that the producers can properly envision us on the screen and see how nice a couple we make. I get a good feeling from it. Dakota’s a sweet woman, a strict professional, and it’s no doubt being on the set with her would be a dozen steps up from the Alien Love set. Though my list of credits isn’t nearly as impressive as hers, she’s friendly and not condescending in the least.
When dinner is ready, we leave for the dining room, and I tap Marissa on the shoulder.
“How did it go with her?” she asks.
“Lovely,” I say honestly.
“You make a stunning couple. I can’t help being a little jealous, knowing you might be on screen with her.”
“Remember what I said about film being fantasy. What we had this afternoon? That’s real.”
I freeze. Real? Fake? It’s all getting jumbled in my head. I know I’m an actor, but this is damn confusing. And it shouldn’t be. This is an act, a means to an end. I can see on her face that she must be wondering, too, because her eyes widen slightly in confusion, but she doesn’t say anything more.
After eating and socializing well into the evening, everyone heads to their rooms for the night. As soon as we’re alone, I toss myself onto the bed. To my surprise, Marissa immediately leaps onto the bed, as well, and I wrap my arms around her. She’s normally so pensive, so concerned about doing the right thing, but right now she looks happy. Free. My chest squeezes at the notion that I’ve contributed to that. But then I remind myself she drank wine at dinner and afterward. She’s probably more buzzed than anything else, but that’s fine. So long as she’s happy, I’m finding I’m happy too.
“You’re having a good time?”
“Oh yes. When we were together earlier—well, I’ve never felt anything like that before, Simon. It was amazing. I’m just trying to get used to doing things that feel good but don’t mean anything. Like you do.”
Like I do. I stiffen. Suddenly, I feel dirty. Is that what she thinks of me? Of course that’s what she thinks of me. I’m the man the paparazzi believes dates and dumps indiscriminately.
She smiles tightly. “Anyway, we should do it again. A lot more.”
Of course that’s what I want, but why do I feel so terrible about it? Like I’m dragging her down to my low level. I rub my chest, like my heart hurts. I know I told myself this was only going to be for a bit of fun, that it wasn’t supposed to be real. After the ball, we’ll go our separate ways. The sex is just a bonus. A great bonus, but a bonus nonetheless. She’ll find some other man to date and maybe marry.
At that last thought, I clench my fists.
Just sex. I can do this. I’ve done it a hundred times before.
But why does this time feel so different?
Why does it feel like even if I do win the part, in the end I’ll lose?
Chapter Thirteen
Simon
The next evening, standing outside Marissa’s house in my tuxedo, I feel like everything is finally coming together for my career. Earlier in the day, at the lake house, we’d had brunch with Noble and Spires. They’d hinted they were very close to making a decision about casting Perfect Union. Then before we’d headed back to our own homes, Marissa and I had returned to our room for another bout of mind-blowing sex.
I grin. Who would’ve thought Marissa Woodcrest would be such a vixen in the sack? I must admit I’d hoped she would be, but it’s better than I imagined.
I’m still grinning like an idiot when the door opens. Marissa, dressed in a slinky blue gown, stands before me. My jaw drops. Her dark hair cascades down her back in soft curls, and when she turns, asking “How do I look?” I just about lose my damn mind seeing the open back on the dress. It’s a simple number, but sexy as hell.
My lust-filled brain wonders if we could skip the evening altogether and just stay here so I can strip that dress right off of her. Preferably with my teeth.
But seeing as how I’ve said a grand total of zero words, Marissa’s getting self-conscious. “Is it that bad?” she asks, fiddling with her hair.
“No—I mean, it’s not bad. It’s so good you took all the words out of my head.” I take her hand and kiss it. “I don’t see how I’m going to be able to concentrate with you looking like that, darling.”
She smiles, flushing slightly. “Flatterer.”
As I take her to the car, I take a nice, long look at her ass, which is barely concealed by the thin fabric. “Down boy,” I mutter to myself. I can’t maul her before we even arrive.
An hour later, when we enter the ballroom, I can’t help but be impressed. It’s one of the most expensive venues in the city, and although I’ve never been to one of the famous Noble and Spires events, I’ve heard the rumors about the producers going all-out. A chandelier hangs overhead while the floor is a pale gray marble, sparkling in the low light. Candles flicker everywhere and the attendees walk about in their expensive gowns or tuxedos, violin music providing a backdrop.
I can see Marissa growing nervous. I lean down and murmur in her ear, “You look amazing. Thank you again for doing this.”
She looks up at me. “Us fake girlfriends have to keep up appearances,” she says, wrinkling her nose as she smiles.
I wish it was already time for dancing, because there’s nothing I’d enjoy more than twirling Marissa out on the dance floor.
“Dale!” Spires walks up with Tilly on his arm. He’s wearing a tux that’s probably two sizes too small and was purchased years ago, but Tilly looks glamorous in a peach gown with diamonds dripping from her ears and neck. “Look at this place!” Spires adds in his booming voice.
“It’s a lovely event. I hope you two enjoy yourselves,” I reply.
“Mrs. Spires, you look lovely.” Marissa nods at Tilly, who giggles and blushes.
Spires gives me a look, and I know he’s thinking about the role and how domestic I look with Marissa. “Hope you enjoyed coming to the lake house,” he says, eyeing the two of us. “You both seemed to have a good time.”
I almost laugh, mostly because I know Marissa is blushing. Yes, we definitely had a good time. Just thinking about what we did outside, me sliding inside of her and making her cry out my name…
Marissa pinches my arm, and I can’t help but pinch her back.
“We did have a great time. Thank you again for inviting us.”
Spires nods, and then his eyes light up when he spots someone behind me. “Excuse us,” he says.
We run into Noble and his wife, and other friends of the two of them. Noble looks serious-as-ever and out of his depth at a party like this, but his wife is surprisingly bubbly and never stops talking. I have no idea how they ever paired up. She’s like a golden retriever married to a bulldog.
Declan shows up at my side. “Nice party,” he says, holding out champagne glasses for us. “Here’s to sinking or swimming. I really don’t want to have our asses handed to us after all the shit we’ve pulled to get you this role.”
“You’re always such an optimist.” I take the glass of champagne and hand it to Marissa. “Besides, like I told you, the evening at the lake house went well. Better than I expected. You should’ve been there.”
The thing is, the reason it went better than expected was all because of Marissa. Being with her made the experience fun. Everything else was just dry, boring, Hollywood pretense.
“You know I was otherwise engaged.”
I nod. Yes, Declan had told me he had some urgent matter to attend to and couldn’t make the lake house event. Something to do
with a potential client, but other than that, he hadn’t given me any details.
Declan’s gaze lands on a slinky blonde across from us. “Excuse me,” he murmurs. We watch as Declan introduces himself to the blonde, who responds eagerly to his attention.
“There are plenty of women around,” Marissa murmurs. “Do you want to…mingle?”
“With other women? Not at all, darling. I’m in a fulfilled committed relationship, after all.”
“Ah, yes,” she says softly. “Must keep up pretenses.”
I shoot her a look. “Has all of what we’ve been doing been pretense? It felt damn real last night and earlier today. Wasn’t I enthusiastic enough?”
She shivers. “No, you were very enthusiastic, as well you know.”
“And if I recall correctly, you were as well. ‘Simon, Simon, Simon.’ You couldn’t stop saying my name.”
She rolls her eyes, blushing. “Behave yourself.”
Looking back at her ass and her bare back, I say, “With you in that dress? Not a chance.”
I hear the music starting up, and I’m about to ask her to dance when I catch sight of a redheaded woman in the corner of my eye. I freeze. It can’t be…
When she spots me, she’s all smiles. “Simon!” Janelle waltzes up to me, her bright red hair piled on top of her head, wearing an emerald green gown that doesn’t hide a thing. Janelle perfected the femme fatale look probably before she said her first word. She’s wearing red lipstick and some kind of eyeliner that makes her look like a cat. Seeing her bright nails, I know she’s way more dangerous than your run-of-the-mill house cat. More like a puma, and one that will tear out your jugular without hesitation.
She holds out her hand to me, and even though I want to tell her to go to hell I also refuse to fall for her bait. I press her hand, silently warning her to behave.
“Janelle. What are you doing here?”
She smiles. I notice that she has two very small wrinkles near her eyes, which gratifies me to no end. “I was invited,” she says in that smooth, silky voice of hers. “Noble and Spires are dear friends of mine. Didn’t you know? Well, ever since I auditioned for their newest movie. I didn’t realize you’d become so cozy with them, though.”
I snap my head around to look at her. She’s serious. And if she knows that, then she probably knows…
“But then I heard the rumors of the actors being considered for the main roles.” She bats her false eyelashes at me. “My part is nothing, really. A scene or two. But you! Congratulations, Simon, that’s just wonderful. You’ve come so very far since…” She rakes her eyes over Marissa “…the old days.”
I glance at Marissa, who’s staring at us both. She’s calm, though, probably realizing that Janelle can sense weakness a mile away.
“Janelle, have you met my girlfriend, Marissa Woodcrest? Marissa, this is Janelle Williams.”
“His former girlfriend,” Janelle adds, that spiteful little smile on her face. She shakes Marissa’s hand. “I’ve heard so much about you, dear.”
Marissa raises her eyebrows. “Really? Because I’ve heard so little about you.”
I cough to cover my laugh. Janelle looks murderous, but she hides it well. “How funny you are,” she says. “Obviously you don’t watch Lone Star Hospital.”
I can feel the hackles rising between them, and I’m certain bloodshed will result if I’m not careful. “Marissa, darling, let’s go meet the rest of the guests. We wouldn’t want to detain Janelle any longer.”
Janelle just smiles.
I guide Marissa away, and just when we’re out of earshot, she hisses, “I can’t believe Elvira Hampton of Lone Star Hospital is actually jealous of me. Me!”
I take in her starry-eyed expression, amused. “Lone Star Hospital fan, are you?”
She nods, embarrassed. I suppose I didn’t have to ask.
“We dated for a while. She wasn’t quite so awful when we first started dating, but luckily I learned of her true colors quickly enough. We met auditioning for Alien Love, although she was pissed I got the starring role and she didn’t even get a call back.”
She snorts. “Is that so? Well, she’s doing pretty well, now.”
“I suppose. But just know that I’m completely over her.”
Marissa gives me a look, and I realize what I’m saying. It doesn’t matter if I’m over Janelle because it’s not like Marissa and I are actually dating. I clear my throat, feeling awkward.
“Let me get you another glass of champagne.”
She smiles. “That’s all right. I need to go to the restroom. I’ll be right back.” She heads off, leaving me alone.
Looking around, I see Spires and Noble drinking and gazing at me. I bite my cheek to keep from groaning. Did they witness that little scene with Janelle? I can’t have things ruined because she felt like getting her petty revenge.
Janelle finds me again, now holding her own glass of champagne. We watch as couples dance, silent in our assessment.
“So you really are using her to clean up your image,” she says, sipping her champagne. “But you obviously haven’t yet been straight with her family. Because the Woodcrests would never let you near her if they knew who you really are.” She turns to me, her voice becoming a purr. She touches my arm. “And even if they did accept you, how long would your interest last? One month more? She’s pretty, I grant you, but we all know of your…appetites. And when you hurt her, your career will be over. The Woodcrests would make certain of that.” Her fingers glide up my arm, and it’s like watching a spider.
I can feel Spires and Noble looking at us. I step away from her. “And as I told you before, it’s none of your business, Janelle.”
She smiles that red-lipped mocking smile of hers. “I know, darling. That doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun, though.”
My heart pounds. Janelle’s kind of fun never ends well for anyone else.
“Leave it alone.” I take her wrist, and when she realizes I’m not letting go, she follows me into a private alcove. When we’re alone, I growl, “If you try anything, I’ll have your head.”
She laughs. “So barbaric, Simon! I could almost believe it, except that we all know how your threats are. Hollow.”
“I mean it. If you try anything, you’ll be very, very sorry.”
She just sips her champagne. Then, finishing it, she sets it on a nearby table before coming toward me. “I know you don’t mean that. I know you. You’ll get bored of that little girl, and then you’ll do something stupid, like you always do. And when you do, it’ll be all over the news, and Raul Woodcrest will ensure your career will be finished.”
She presses her breasts against my chest, running her hands down my body. Before I can grab hold of her, I see movement out of the corner of my eye. I turn, but whoever was there is gone now.
I curse. “I’m done here.” I push her away from me and stalk out. When I go into the ballroom, I look for whoever may have seen us. I catch Spires’s gaze, and his eyes are narrowed at me. My heart sinks into my toes. What did he see?
Then I see Marissa off to the side, her arms wrapped around herself. I go to her. “I was looking for you,” I say, trying to act like nothing happened.
She looks up. “I couldn’t find you. Where did you go?” She doesn’t sound suspicious, just resigned.
I refuse to see her upset. Janelle doesn’t deserve the satisfaction. “Let’s dance, shall we?”
Before she can say no, I take her to the dance floor. The music starts up, and we begin waltzing. I’m not the greatest dancer, but I know enough to keep us from embarrassing ourselves.
“I’m sorry about Janelle. I had no idea she’d be here tonight.” I rub Marissa’s back.
“No, of course you couldn’t have known. So she’s going to be in Perfect Union, huh?”
“It appears so.” I frown. “God knows who she seduced to get that part.”
Marissa smiles up at me. “Does it matter? It’s just a small part. She doesn’t have one te
nth of the star quality or talent you have. She’s not even in your league. Maybe sleeping with people is the only way she can get ahead in this town.”
I cringe. Isn’t that kind of what I’m doing with Marissa? No, I hadn’t known her family had these connections, but even so, I’ve been using her to make myself look better. And that isn’t much different than what Janelle is doing. I think about the tell-all interview she gave, where she detailed our relationship and how I walked out on her. Simon Dale doesn’t do relationships, she’d told the journalist, he does flings. There’s not a committed bone in his body.
That hadn’t been the worst of it. She’d gone on to describe how I always fought with her, how I told her how to dress and where to go, making me out to be the worst kind of ogre just because I was the one who was making the money. All of it was false. If anything, she was the one who tried to control me. She’d wanted me to spend all of my money on her when I wanted to save it for a rainy day. She’d never had a fucking rainy day in her life. Anytime I pushed back, she’d throw a tantrum, like a little child.
But for some strange reason, I had cared for her. I’m not sure it was love—sometimes I don’t think I’m capable of that emotion—but I’d wanted us to work out. I’d wanted to do the right thing and be stable. I’d wanted to not be that actor whose social life was such a mess that it spilled over into his career. But Janelle’s jealousy when my career took that leap forward when Alien Love grew so popular made that impossible. That’s when I left, and I have never regretted that decision.
Janelle, of course, saw my newfound fame as a way to get a little fame of her own.
I don’t want to be another person who uses others in order to get ahead. And holding Marissa close as we glide across the dance floor, I realize that the person I want to hurt least of all is the woman in my arms.
Noble and Spires are standing together at the edge of the dance floor, motioning in my general direction and talking conspiratorially. I’m suddenly sure it’s about me and Janelle and how I have one too many skeletons in my closet to make an adequate leading man.