Come Undone: Romance Stories Inspired by the Music of Duran Duran

by Kim Carmichael

  “I’d do anything to get the part of Lily.” Red Dress locked gazes with Sophie. “Anything.”

  There was a time Sophie would have done the same, but not now. She’d started making adult films at eighteen and made a decent living at it. Although she couldn’t be considered a major star in the adult film industry, she was the face of the million dollar franchise, Pep Squad Girls in Space. Their latest, Pep Squad Girls on Mars, she decided, would be her last.

  The conference room door opened. A young, bespectacled man—a college intern, she surmised—stepped out and looked up from his clipboard. Every head turned in his direction.

  “Sophie Greene.”

  “Here.” She raised her hand slightly.

  “You’re next. Follow me.”

  Sophie blew out a ragged breath, then presented a confident smile. No need to advertise the storm brewing in her stomach.

  “Good luck,” Red Dress said.

  “Thanks.” She pushed herself up from the chair and followed the man with the clipboard through the doorway.

  * * * *

  GREG SAT BEHIND HIS desk staring at a stack of manila folders that required his attention. Lately, he’d been having trouble concentrating on his caseload. Not a good thing for an insurance fraud investigator. In the ten years he’d worked for Pontiac Insurance, he’d saved the company from paying out millions of dollars in fraudulent claims. He seemed to have a sixth sense about such matters. A bloodhound’s nose, his mother used to say. He’d been hired by the firm while still in college and after graduating, he rapidly climbed the corporate ladder.

  When he accepted a transfer from Chicago to the Los Angeles office, he struck gold. He’d met Sophie. Sophie. The mere thought of her warmed his heart, his soul.

  Ever since he struck up a conversation with her at the gym where they both worked out, he knew she was the one. For two years, they’d shared a frustrating on-again-off-again relationship. He struggled with her occupation as an adult film actress. Although she said the men and women she’d screwed on screen meant nothing to her, it bothered him. It was simulated sex, she explained. He admitted to being possessive and the thought of women or other men touching her, made him crazy. But actually seeing her swapping spit while locked in an embrace—or worse—with someone else, infuriated him, pained him. And he hated that he cared so much.

  When she told him she’d fulfilled her contract as a member of the notorious Pep Squad Girls, he thought his heart would burst with happiness. But this time it was different. This time, thinking she was ready to settle down, he’d nearly proposed to her. Hell, he’d even bought a ring.

  But when she announced she was planning to go out on auditions, he swallowed his proposal, along with his dreams of making her his wife. Not satisfied with the mind-blowing sex they shared, he wanted something more permanent. Why wouldn’t she forget all that nonsense about becoming an actress?

  The last conversation they’d had was when she declined a lunch date with him because she was off to an audition. That was weeks ago.

  Shit.

  He powered up his laptop and peeked through the open door of his office. Verifying he was alone, he opened the top drawer in his oak desk, and retrieved a small brown bag. He pulled out a DVD. His stomach flipped. Might as well get it over with. He quickly opened the jewel case and slipped the DVD into his laptop. He didn’t want to do this, but Sophie left him no choice. Because she wouldn’t show him the DVD, he’d found a copy in an adult video store during his lunch hour. Common sense told him he should wait until he got home to view the video, but nothing made sense about his relationship with Sophie. Nothing! They were so wrong for each other.

  But he needed to know what everyone saw when they’d watched Beachtime Girls—Sophie’s film debut. She swore she only did a walk-on, that she wasn’t the main attraction.

  Here goes nothing. He held his breath and angled the screen away from possible prying eyes. He hit play. When the film’s cheesy background music began, he quickly muted the sound.

  In less than five minutes, Greg spotted a familiar face. The same long, honey blond hair. A coed resembling Sophie untied the back of her white bikini top and let it fall. Her big, beautiful breasts were displayed for the world to see. When a young male stepped up to her and fondled her breasts, he cringed. He wanted to reach into the film and beat the shit out of the creep, but when the bastard leaned in and drew one of her nipples into his mouth, Greg nearly lost it.

  “Fuck.” He slammed his laptop shut. Sure, she wasn’t the star of the film, but how could he unsee another male enjoying her body? Giving her pleasure?

  “What’s up?” Tony Dawson entered Greg’s office. He was an investigator for the LAPD, someone Greg worked with from time to time on insurance fraud cases. He was shorter and more muscular than Greg and his light hair was cut in a military style. Because both were pushing thirty, had similar interests and backgrounds, they’d struck up a friendship.

  “Nothing.”

  “Doesn’t sound like nothing. Spill it.”

  Choosing to ignore Tony’s question, he changed the subject. “So, what brings you to my neck of the woods?”

  Tony pulled up a chair and sat across the desk from him. “A meeting with the head honcho around here. What’s got you so spun up?” He pointed to the laptop.

  Greg hesitated, then decided to come clean. “I just bought a copy of Sophie’s film debut. A nice ditty called Beachtime Girls.”

  “Wasn’t that filmed a long time ago?” Tony crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

  “Eight years—according to her.” He clenched his jaw and spun his chair in Tony’s direction. “But I’m curious how many more she made?” How many more men did she spread her legs for on film? His stomach twisted.

  “Didn’t you tell me she’s quitting the franchise?”

  “She is.” Greg raked his fingers through his hair. “But…she’s not quitting acting completely, says she’s auditioning for regular type flicks now.”

  “And your problem is?”

  “Movies are movies. What kind of movies doesn’t matter.”

  “You’re so fucked up, bro. By now, you two should have worked this out. Good God, this back and forth thing’s been going on way too long. Make a decision about your relationship. About her. Do something, anything. Like they say, ‘Shit or get off the pot.’”

  Smacked with the truth, Greg straightened in his chair and drew his hands into fists. “You’d be singing a different tune if it was your girl showing her stuff to every—”

  “I never thought I’d say this…but in Sophie’s defense,” Tony said. “Did you ever do anything you regretted? That you were ashamed of or embarrassed by…praying to God that no one would ever find out?”

  “Who hasn’t?”

  “Okay. Now put yourself in Sophie’s place. She says she regrets making those films, but her indiscretions are harder to hide than any of yours. What if what you’re ashamed of had been immortalized on film for everybody to see? What if someone you cared for refused to forgive you?”

  “Damn you.” He hated when Tony was right.

  Chapter Two

  WEARING HER TRADEMARK burgundy cape, gold bustier, matching thigh-high skirt, and big-hair platinum wig, Sophie—as Serena—shouted a fierce battle cry and drove her jewel-handled sword into the heart of a three-headed flying lizard. The beast spread its wings and hissed its last. Spinning around, it dropped to the rust-colored, powdery earth with a thud.

  Cheers erupted in the background.

  Without breaking a sweat, Serena pulled the sword from the scaly chest. She raised it above her head. “Evil is conquered. Mars is safe. Victory is ours,” she declared.

  Four Pep Squad Girls and five males in astronaut suits surrounded her. The tallest, a mustachioed man pulled her into a hug. “Thank you for saving our planet, Serena. Stay on Mars and be our queen.”

  She pulled away. “As much as I’d love to, I must decline. My work on Mars is finished. The Pep
Squad has a higher calling—to save the universe, one planet at a time.”

  “Will you give me one more night?”

  Serena grabbed his hand and led him away from the group. When they stepped behind a space ship, she unlaced her bustier, exposing most of her breasts. “I think that can be arranged.”

  “Cut,” a booming voice declared. “And that’s a wrap”

  Sophie whipped off her wig, covered her breasts with her cape. She was done. As she walked off the movie set, she was also walking away from a lucrative adult film career. Even though she wasn’t proud of the movies she’d made, the films more than paid the bills. The star in those films wasn’t Sophie Greene, it was Lexi Flash. As far as Sophie was concerned, Lexi Flash had bared her last breast.

  The morning following the Pep Squad’s final scene, Sophia joined her four fellow Pep Squad stars on the patio of a popular coffee shop to discuss the best way to promote their final film together. There were photos and posters to sign, a book to promote.

  Sophie couldn’t get her head into the discussion. She couldn’t shake the feeling she’d bombed the audition. She’d started out by missing a cue, which set off a chain reaction of miscues, and by the time she finished her audition, she was a bundle of nerves who couldn’t even remember her own name.

  “Never again,” Sophie muttered.

  “Earth to Sophie,” Bitsy said. “Never again what?”

  “Sorry. My mind is elsewhere.”

  “Obviously,” Bitsy said. “Wanna talk about it?”

  “Not really.” The last thing Sophie wanted or needed to do was unload her self-doubts on her co-stars. Quitting the franchise had been her idea. She’d started the ball rolling and soon the others jumped aboard the final Pep Squad train. The only holdout was Bitsy.

  Bitsy retrieved a video camera from its case and pointed it at Sophie.

  “What are you doing?” Sophie shouted. “Get that damn thing out of my face.” Still photos were one thing, but filming their discussions was too personal. She wanted no part of it.

  “I’m almost done.”

  “Done with what?” Allison snapped.

  “A mini-documentary of the Pep Squad. It’s my good-bye gift to each of you. When I edit the footage, everyone will get a copy.”

  Susan shot back. “What happens if we object to something you’ve put in your little documentary?” She made quote marks.

  Bitsy resumed filming. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t include anything that might be offensive. Consider it a labor of love. You’re going to love it. It’ll be something you can be proud to show your grandchildren.

  The girls exchanged glances.

  “Promise?” Sophie said.

  “Have I ever lied to you?”

  “We’d better not see this film pop up on YouTube,” Tina said.

  “You won’t. It’s just for us.”

  A chilly breeze swept across the patio. Sophie wrapped her hands around the paper cup, trying to get warmth from the blistering hot coffee inside. Except for Bitsy, who wore a long dress, they wore jeans, and light jackets to ward off the nip in the morning air.

  Their collective groans of protest went ignored, but garnered further instruction from the ambitious filmmaker.

  “At least try looking alert.”

  “Looking alert isn’t exactly something that comes easy before noon,” Sophie interjected. “Especially when we’d all rather be in our respective beds.”

  A loud sigh sounded from behind the camera. “Come on. Just give me another fifteen minutes. Talk about how much you loved the films and how much you’ll miss them. Act natural. Tell me what the Pep Squad has done for your careers.”

  They all gave Bitsy blank stares.

  “Alrighty then. Discuss something. Anything that won’t make it look like you’re being filmed. Ignore me. Pretend that I’m not here.”

  Sophie shrugged, might as well go along with the program. “Susan, did you ever check on the apartment in the building across the parking lot from me?” Susan had flaming red hair, and like Sophie, stood nearly six feet tall.

  “Much better. Keep the conversation going,” Bitsy said.

  “As soon as you told me about it, I called the leasing office. A woman answered and said they’d already rented it.”

  What the hell. “Are you serious?” Of all the Pep Squad Girls, Sophie was the closest to Susan and had hoped to have her as a neighbor.

  “Yeah, she said it went right away. The same day they placed the ad, in fact. I’m not surprised. Channing Heights is a great neighborhood. It doesn’t have the smog, yet it’s close enough to L.A. to work there.”

  “I’m stunned.”

  “Guess I should have jumped on it.” Susan turned toward the twins, Allison and Tina. “What about either of you guys? Do you know of any available apartments?”

  “Not really. For now, I’m living with my folks until I move to New York.” Allison answered.

  “Sorry,” Tina said, “I don’t know of anything either, but I’ll keep my eye out for one.”

  Although the twins dressed differently, Sophie sometimes called them by the other’s name. Both were tall, had short, dark brown hair and hazel eyes. They were energetic, provided comedy relief in their movies, and were a great hit as the Pep Squad Twins.

  The conversation stopped and a heavy, awkward silence hovered over the group.

  “We’re done,” Sophie told Bitsy.

  Friends at the beginning of the franchise, after ten films, their friendship faded when Bitsy became demanding, bossy. Her aggressive behavior turned Sophie off, until their association no longer extended beyond the Pep Squad Girls. Now that the final film was in the can, the bond they once shared showed signs of ending permanently.

  The Pep Squad said quick goodbyes and went their separate ways.

  Sophie fished two singles from her wallet and dropped them on the table. She headed toward her car.

  “Hold on, Sophie,” Bitsy hurried after her.

  Sophie waited for her to catch up. “Yeah?”

  “Can I buy you lunch? I’m starving and I’d like to talk about your promotion photos.”

  “Sorry, not today. I’m meeting my boyfriend.” Even though she and Greg had broken up again, she didn’t feel like socializing. Hanging out with Bitsy no longer appealed to her.

  Bitsy’s smile disappeared. “Your boyfriend? I thought you two broke up.”

  She winced. Had she really discussed her love life on film? “About Greg. Can you edit out any time I might have mentioned his name? He’s not a big fan of my movies and I don’t want to do anything to piss him off.”

  “If I were him, I’d be proud to be your boyfriend.”

  “It’s just that… I don’t want my personal life filmed. What I do or who I am on film isn’t the real me. The real me is a private person. So is Greg. Promise me you’ll cut any reference to our relationship.”

  “If that’s what you want,” Bitsy said, looking dejected.

  Sophie said goodbye, wiggled her fingers at her, and made a hasty exit before Bitsy had a chance to start another conversation. Bitsy had a talent of making her feel guilty. Sophie was in no mood to deal with her.

  She’d known Bitsy since junior high. An odd duck, mousy, frumpy, and unpopular, she never fit in—never belonged. But Sophie had felt sorry for the friendless Bitsy and included her in many social gatherings, but never in her inner group. She’d kept her at arm’s length—on the fringes. When Sophie ran into her during a casting call for the Pep Squad, she encouraged her to try out for the part. Over six feet tall, incredibly fit, and sporting a thick, black braid that reached to the middle of her back, casting her as a warrior was a no-brainer. She was hired on the spot.

  On her way to her car, Sophie’s cell phone vibrated. She stared at its screen. Her heart pounded in her chest when she read her agent’s name.

  “It’s John.” She clutched the phone, afraid to answer.

  Her cell stopped vibrating and she waited for the message
light to appear. When the dot showed up, she listened to the message.

  “Hello, Sophie. It’s John. I hope you’re sitting down when you hear this. The casting director wants you to come back for another reading. This one is with the lead actor. Call me.”

  She hadn’t blown the audition after all. Sophie hugged herself and allowed grateful tears to slide down her cheeks.

  Chapter Three

  EAGER TO MAKE A good impression at the callback the next day, Sophie selected her favorite navy sheath dress that complimented her hair and complexion. Over the dress, she wore a fitted coral cardigan. With a bounce in her step, she started down the steps of her second story condo to her carport.

  Halfway down the stairs, she stopped. Her white Camry looked…tilted. She hurried down the rest of the steps to check the tire. What she feared had happened—the right, front tire was flat. If she depended on her own skill to change the tire, she’d be in a whole lot of hurt. Either she’d be late for her reading, or end up being a no-show.

  She’d worked too hard to earn a shot at the role of a lifetime to give up without a fight. She’d paid her dues, damn it! The only option left: call her agent. She dialed his number, and he answered after the first ring.

  “Can you give me a ride?” she blurted and explained her predicament.

  “Be right there.” He was there in fifteen minutes flat.

  Her agent, John, had been with Sophie since she arrived in Hollywood. She’d already had a fistful of trashy films under her belt, but decided her career needed guidance. And because she knew nothing about the movie business, she’d searched for an agent. Luck was with her when she’d selected John’s name out of the hundreds of agents in the yellow pages. He also resembled her father—from his salt-and-pepper mustache and ponytail, to his all-black wardrobe. She signed on the dotted line without hesitation. It was one of the best decisions she’d ever made.

  En route to the callback, they passed the building where Greg had an office on the third floor. Staring at his window, her tears welled. If they hadn’t fought, he would be at her side to share her good fortune.