The sight made him get hard again. He kissed her, more gently this time. “I love you,” he murmured before he could take it back. With all the haggles over her career, he’d always resisted uttering those words. Now they were out there. Bare—raw—vulnerable. A few agonizing seconds passed while he waited for her to echo his words.
“Me, too.” It wasn’t a downright admission that she loved him, but he’d take it. Hell, he’d take anything she’d give him.
While she ground against him, he reached between them to check if she was ready for round two. His heart hitched when his finger easily slid inside her slick opening.
“Don’t move.” He hurried to retrieve another condom from his wallet. He slipped it on and leaned over her, kissing her breasts, flicking each nipple with his tongue.
“Please, baby. I need you inside me,” she whispered, her voice husky, demanding. “Hurry.”
He entered her and set a slower, easier pace. She joined in the rhythm and he plunged deeper and deeper. She writhed beneath him and whispered his name, begging him for more.
He gave her what she wanted. She gave him what he needed. Together, they achieved satisfaction. Waves of pleasure washed over them. They clung to each other until both were thoroughly spent.
Basking in the warmth of her embrace, he drifted off to sleep.
In the living room, her cell phone rang and she looked in the direction of the noisy contraption.
He kissed her again, trying to make her forget about her cell. “If it’s important, they’ll leave a message.”
“Probably.” She stared at the doorway.
“Wait,” he whispered.
“I’m sorry, but I need to get that.” She slipped out of bed and scurried into the living room.
Greg rolled out of bed and started to follow her, but changed his mind. He stopped, and with his hands on his hips, glanced at her discarded clothing on the floor. Then he looked up and watched his future walk away from him. Again.
Chapter Five
SOPHIE FEARED THE PHONE call from John would upset Greg. Grabbing her cell, she scurried into the bathroom and closed the door. The call could go either way. If she didn’t get the part, she’d be disappointed. If she got the part, Greg would be disappointed. Either way, a lose-lose situation.
John sounded upbeat on the phone. She figured she either got the lead or one of the minor characters. It didn’t matter. She just wanted to be part of a film that didn’t involve swords, big hair wigs, or naked breasts.
She hit redial. Her agent answered right away.
“John? I’m hoping you’ve got good news for me.” She swallowed hard.
“I’ve got good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”
“Give me the bad news.”
“You didn’t get the lead.”
She was disappointed, but not surprised. He’d warned her of that possibility because she didn’t have the name recognition or the acting chops of an established name. “And the good news is…”
“The studio has offered you one of the minor characters.”
“How minor?”
“Gretchen, the male lead’s wife.”
Sophie mentally scanned the pages of the best seller, trying to visualize the role. She recalled seeing Gretchen’s name scattered throughout the book. “I don’t care. I’m just glad I was cast.”
“That’s the right attitude, Sophie. A lot of hype’s happening around this film. Just being a part of it could launch your career. Congratulations.”
“You got me in the door to read for the casting director.”
“But you had the talent. It’s all you, Sophie. Stop by my office at noon tomorrow so we hear their offer.” He paused. “You’re not going to let your boyfriend talk you out of this, are you?”
“Not a chance. But don’t worry. I can handle him. He’ll be happy when I explain how important this film is. It’s a big deal.”
“It’s a very big deal. About tomorrow—”
“I’ll be there.”
She needed to tell Greg. She ended the call, sucked in a mouthful of courage, and opened the bathroom door. Still cradling the phone, she returned to her bed.
It was empty.
“Greg?” He was gone. So were his clothes. She padded into the living room where an empty bottle of wine rested on the coffee table, along with two empty glasses.
Tears welled, threatening to spill. “Greg?” When there was no answer, no one to share her good news with, her throat tightened. She stood in the doorway of her small kitchen and stared at its emptiness. No Greg. Her joy disappeared, right along with her lover. She returned to the living room and watched the setting sun through half closed window blinds. This should be the happiest day of her life. Her dreams of being cast in a major film had come true. So where was her jubilation? Her pride of accomplishment? Somehow nothing mattered if she couldn’t share her happiness with the man she loved.
She closed the blinds all the way, and sunk into the deep cushion of her favorite suede recliner, leaned back, and let the tears stream down her face.
Chapter Six
SOPHIE AND JOHN SAT in the reception area of the casting director’s office. “What’s taking them so long?” Growing impatient, she fidgeted with a loose thread on her off-white slacks.
“It’s all a game, Sophie. They’ll call us in when they’re good and ready.”
She tugged at the bottom of her camel-colored sweater set, and pushed her hair behind her ears. “How do I look?”
“You look great, Sophie. Professional, but not overly so. You’re showing them you’re a serious actress. Now, if you had worn all black as I did.”
The inner office door opened. “Sophie. John. Come on in. We’re ready for you,” a short, middle-aged woman in a brown pantsuit said.
The woman stepped aside and let Sophie and John pass into the office, which was filled with people—mostly men—many she’d never seen before. After agreeing to their contractual terms, the casting director confessed that he was a big fan of her Pep Squad movies and looked forward to working with her.
A man approached, whom she recognized as the cameraman from her callback. “Remember me? Derek?”
“Of course. How are you?”
He offered his hand and she shook it. “I’m great, but even better now. I’ve seen all of your movies and can’t wait to start filming you.”
“Thank you,” she answered politely.
As he walked away, she tried hiding her disappointment behind a broad smile. Now she understood why so many people had casually dropped by the office. It was to see Lexi or Serena. Not Sophie.
She stood tall, lifted her chin, and thanked the casting director, but suspected it was her Lexi Flash persona that got her the part, not the acting ability as Sophie Greene.
The meeting took less than an hour. With moods vacillating between glee at being offered a contract and depression over losing Greg, she’d forgotten to eat breakfast. Though her stomach begged to be filled, she was in no mood to eat.
While she shook hands with the rest of the people in attendance, the urge to flee grew stronger. She held her breath, waiting for someone to whip out the infamous poster of her standing with hands on hips, legs spread wide, wearing her Pep Squad costume and showing so much cleavage, nothing was left to the imagination.
John held the door open for her to pass. “It’s time to celebrate. So, if you don’t have any plans, I’d like to buy you lunch. How about it, are you free?”
Although her stomach was growling in protest, Sophie didn’t feel much like celebrating. She’d just found out that she was hired for her breasts. The casting director knew who she was. And her boyfriend just broke up with her, again, all because she didn’t want to give up trying to break into movies.
For lunch, John treated her to an eatery where, for once, the utensils weren’t plastic and someone came to your table to take your order. When she stepped inside the restaurant, the aroma of baking bread wafted in her direction, m
aking her mouth water.
The hostess escorted them to a small table in the center of the restaurant, filled with the white collar workers.
They placed their orders, and waiting for their food to arrive, she aired her concern about being typecast because of her adult film career.
But John shrugged one shoulder, seemingly unconcerned. “Maybe so, but who cares? You’re a pro. You’re comfortable in front of the camera and besides, you look damn good on film. Cameras love you and you’re one hell of an actress—which is a lot more than can be said of most of the young up and comers today. Go with it, Sophie. Celebrate your success.” He lifted his glass of iced tea in a toast.
She raised her glass and clinked it against his. “I suppose you’re right, but I was hoping to make it because of my talent, not my reputation…my body. I swear I’ll walk off the set if they ask me to take off my bra.”
“They won’t.” He paused mid-chew. “But even if they do, frontal nudity isn’t such a big deal anymore. Everybody’s doing it.”
* * * *
SOPHIE CLIMBED THE STEPS to her condo and her stomach took a tiny dip. A large vase of pink roses was waiting at her door.
Greg. “Oh, baby,” she whispered. He came back. She crouched to inhale the roses’ fragrance and spotted a white envelope sticking out from under the vase. Carefully removing the envelope, she ripped it open.
You deserve better than him.
What the hell? She whirled around and scanned the parking lot below. Was someone waiting for her to come home? Her gaze flew to the apartment building across the shared parking lot. Was someone peeking through the window at her right now? She studied each window, searching for a face, but saw none.
Her hands shook as she shoved the roses off to the side and unlocked the door. She stepped inside, leaving the roses on the landing.
She paused. What if they were watching and noticed that she left the roses outside to wilt and die. Would that anger them? What should she do? She slammed the door shut and rubbed her temples. Flowers? This can’t be happening.
When her hands stopped trembling and her legs were steady once more, she scurried into the living room and lifted a slat of the blinds. Parked on the street below her window were a yellow Prius, a red lifted truck, and a black sedan. The last resembled the car from the parking structure. Her blood chilled. “God, no.” She opened the slats further and backed away from the window. No one was inside the black sedan. She missed Greg. If he were here, he’d know what to do.
Did the car belong to the person who brought her the roses?
No way she would keep them, or allow them inside her home. But if she didn’t bring them inside, would she anger the person who left them? She couldn’t keep them outside. She needed to bring them inside and wait until dark to toss them in the parking lot dumpster.
Chapter Seven
A WEEK PASSED WITHOUT any further stalker incidents and Sophie grew comfortable enough to leave her condo. But an uneasiness still clawed at her gut. Whether she was at the studio, running errands, or at home, she felt eyes boring into her. Whenever she turned around or glanced over her shoulder trying to catch someone behind her, she saw nothing. Common sense told her it was her imagination. However, common sense couldn’t explain the goose bumps rising on her arms or the tingling sensation crawling down her spine.
When she got an invitation from Bitsy to come to their old studio for a photo shoot, she jumped at the opportunity. Throughout their association, whether she wanted to admit it or not, sharing her life with the girls was cathartic. They celebrated her good news about Hearts Abound and expressed concern about her stalker.
“Are you serious?” Bitsy’s eyes grew wide at the news. “A stalker?”
“How do you know?” Tina asked.
After explaining about the flowers, Sophie added, “And there are notes on Lexi’s Facebook page, declarations of love. Begging her not to hang up her Pep Squad cape…” Her voice trembled. “Someone is in love with Lexi.”
“But Lexi’s not a real person. She’s a pseudonym. A stage name,” Susan said.
“I know that and you know that, but whoever’s messaging her on Facebook…”
“Then you need to close the account,” Allison said.
Sophie chewed on her bottom lip. “I’m considering doing that, but Lexi’s got a huge fan base.”
Bitsy piped in, “Have you considered going to the police?”
“And tell them what? That I’m getting unwanted messages from an obsessed fan.”
“What about the flowers? He knows where you live,” Bitsy said.
“I know… But he hasn’t done anything illegal yet.”
“Setting a vase of flowers at your back door isn’t nothing,” Tina said.
“My door is never unlocked.”
“Didn’t you say you could feel someone watching you?” Bitsy asked.
Sophie didn’t want to add anymore drama to the day—possibly their last time together as the Pep Squad Girls. At least they’d have this photo shoot to remember their camaraderie.
“Let’s make a pact to meet for lunch at least once a year so we can update each other about our lives and hopefully our families,” Sophie said.
They agreed, but sadness pricked her heart. She knew yearly reunions would probably never take place. The Pep Squad might run into each other from time to time, but eventually they’d go their separate ways. She wiped away tears as she hugged her friends goodbye. The warmth she felt turned to ice when she noticed a black sedan parked nearby.
* * * *
After stopping at the market for a few things, Sophie headed home. During the short drive from the store to her condo, she noticed the image of a black sedan in her rearview mirror. The same car she’d seen so many times. A chill slithered down her spine.
She circled the block twice. When the car was no longer behind her, she pulled into her carport and ran up the stairs with her groceries, taking the steps two at a time. She unlocked the front door and slipped inside. She bolted the door and put everything in the fridge and closed the blinds in the kitchen and living room. Gone was the time she could leave her blinds open, even a little.
What if someone watched her while she slept? She slipped into her bedroom, taking care to stay close to the wall, away from the window. She peeked through the corner of the blinds and blew out a sigh when no one was watching her. Who would be following her and why? It didn’t make sense. Eager for a distraction, she powered up her laptop.
To relieve her parched throat, she opened a chilled bottle of water. She drank half its contents and remembered the six-pack of water she’d left in her trunk. She grabbed her keys and ran down the stairs. As she approached her car, she noticed something under her windshield wiper. “Damn ads,” she grumbled. She snatched the note and gasped. This was no advertisement, as suspected, but a hand-scrawled note.
Sorry you didn’t like my roses. I thought pink was your favorite color.
Her hand flew to cover her mouth. Whoever left that note had done so with her at home. Her heart sped up. The stalker was not her imagination—she was being followed.
She raced upstairs to the safety of her home and bolted the door behind her. Was someone following her now? She leaned against the door and slid to the floor. Resting her ear against the door, she listened for footsteps on the stairs or outside her door. Hearing nothing, she pushed herself up and retrieved her cell phone. Her fingers shook when she pounded nine-one-one onto the keypad.
Chapter Eight
GREG GRABBED HIS VIBRATING cell phone before it danced its way across his desk and into the wastebasket. Glancing at the cell’s screen, his heart did a tap dance.
Sophie. Had she finally come to her senses about this acting obsession and realized she’d be better off with someone stable like him, instead of chasing pipe dreams?
Seeing her name created a comforting warmth throughout his body. Sitting straighter in his chair, he lifted the phone to his ear. “Hey babe, long time no
see.” No sound…then a dial tone. Had she hung up? Changed her mind about apologizing? He stared at the cell, waiting for it to vibrate. Sorry, sweetheart. I saw your name.
He quickly dialed her number.
No answer. “You don’t get off that easy.” When her phone went to voice mail, he said, “Hey, Sophie, I saw your name on the screen. Please, call me back.” He hung up and stared at the screen. This wasn’t like her not to return his calls. He dropped his cell in his shirt pocket, and left his office to get a cup of coffee from the small break room.
As he poured himself a cup, his cell buzzed once more. This time he caught Sophie before she had a chance to hang up.
“I hate to bother you, but—” She sounded worried.
“You never bother me. Er…” He chuckled. “Let me rephrase that…” He hoped she caught the innuendo. “So what can I do for you?” He cradled his cell phone and smiled. He knew exactly what he could do for her and what she could do for him that would make them both feel a whole lot better.
“Please don’t tell me I’m paranoid or that it’s my over-active imagination, but someone’s following me.”
His stomach tightened, “What the fuck? Where are you now? Are you home?”
“Yes, but…Please Greg, you don’t have to—”
“The hell I don’t. I’ll be right over.”
Greg broke every speed limit on his way to Sophie’s condo. He hadn’t seen her in a couple of weeks and now she was in trouble. After parking his car, he raced up the stairs and knocked on her door.
“Who’s there?”
“It me…Greg.”
Sophie unbolted the door, and he drew her into a tight hug and kissed her on the cheek.
“Oh, Sophie. Baby, tell me what’s going on.” He wiped her tear away with his thumb.
“I know how you feel about my acting, but I’m really scared. You can even tell me ‘I told you so.’ But there’s someone out there…and I don’t know who it is.” Her voice rose. “I don’t know what they want…what they’ll do to me.”
Come Undone: Romance Stories Inspired by the Music of Duran Duran Page 52