by Josie Brown
So instead, she gave him what he wanted. In a steady voice devoid of any sensuality, she recited every lusty come-on, every sad sexual cliché, every raw put-down she could think of: not just words that defiled the human anatomy, but unadulterated triple X–rated blather in which every orifice was described minutely, then objectified obscenely.
When she was done, she couldn’t tell if he was still on the line.
I have to make him speak to me, she thought, to tell me what I’ve done to deserve his hatred. Damn it, I’ve already lost Nathan! I can’t lose Sam, too.
All of a sudden, she couldn’t stop crying.
She didn’t know how long she wept, only that she had never hung up the phone.
Apparently, neither had he.
When he finally spoke, she learned why he hated her:
“You need to look at a newspaper, Nina.”
Then he hung up.
So he knows.
And he hates me for it.
She ran to her computer and went online to see what he was talking about, scanning Ted’s column in E! Online, then Page Six, Liz’s column, Cindy’s, Jeanette’s, Baxter’s, Lloyd’s…and finally Serenity’s…
There it was, in Serenity’s column:
That Nina was O.
Serenity went on to call her two-faced, and shameless for the way she was apparently fluffing up half of Hollywood with her gutter mouth…
…To the horror of poor Nathan, who, Serenity declared, should now be forgiven for seeking solace in Kat’s arm.
No wonder Sam hated her.
From reading this, it was natural to assume that every word she’d ever said to him had been a conniving lie. But this wasn’t her. She had to tell him that, to let him know what his friendship meant to her. No way could she lose his friendship. She needed Sam, now more than ever. She would go to him, and explain everything.
With a feeling of dread, she dialed Casey’s cell. Had she read Serenity’s column, too? And if so, was she still Nina’s friend?
“Hell, girl, it’s about time you called! Hey, uh, this one’s on the house, right?”
Casey’s teasing jibe almost made Nina laugh. “You’ve got quite a sense of humor this afternoon. Wish I could say the same.”
“All in good time. Is Serenity’s crap why you kept Jake home today?”
“No! I didn’t even know this was coming down…which is why I’m calling. Jake’s got a stomachache, but he’s not contagious, and I really need to go out and—and straighten out this mess—”
“Say no more. Bring him on by. He can go with me to pick up Ben.” Then Casey’s voice got serious. “But Nina, I have to warn you: Not everyone is taking this in the right way. As Susannah so eloquently put it, you’re a hot potato right now, particularly since Rolf is in discussions with Nathan about that indie he’s trying to get off the ground.”
A tear fell down Nina’s cheek. Not that she hadn’t expected this. In a town where your success was predicated on which stars you’d hitched your own career to, in her so-called friends’ minds, Nathan was definitely a better bet for the long run.
“And Jill—well, Jill asked that I tell you not to call her anymore. She’s also telling the school that Jamie isn’t allowed to play with Jake.”
“She’s taking it out on Jake? That’s so unfair! I mean, I understand if she thinks what I did was—”
“I’ve already told her that I think so, too…only I don’t think I put it as politely as you did just now. Look, it’s how this town plays the game. A year from now she’ll be hitting up some producer to play you in the biopic they’ll be making on your life. And she’ll use her friendship with you as the reason why she’d be perfect for the role.”
Ironically, Nina realized how right Casey was. “That’s so disgusting. I’d just puke if that ever happened.”
“It won’t. You know as well as I do that the role will go to someone like Natalie or Claire. If it’s any consolation, even if Jill did get it, just imagine how washed out she’ll look as a brunette.”
“When I said it was disgusting, that’s not what I meant—”
“Duh. I know what you meant. Hey, see you in a few minutes.”
By the time Nina got to Sam’s place, the late afternoon sun had already moved out to sea, and the long shadows emanating from the house only emphasized how feebly its warmth held up against the strong breezes blowing in from the beach.
She couldn’t tell if Sam’s car was in the garage, so she didn’t know if he was home or not. Of course, all she had to do was ring the bell.
But she didn’t. Instead, she stood outside the gate for what seemed like the longest time.
And prayed.
She prayed that he’d have had time to cool down; and that, if and when she got up the nerve to ring the bell, he would actually let her in and give her an opportunity to tell her side of the story before demanding that she leave and to never bother him again, ever.
She was still praying when he came up behind her. Well, when Towser came up behind her, and put his wet, sandy snout in her hand.
She flinched and opened her eyes. Just then a wayward ray from the setting sun found its way onto her face, illuminating it softly.
Lovely, Sam couldn’t help thinking, and doing so made him even angrier.
At her, for being so damn beautiful.
At himself, because he couldn’t help but be aroused.
“Can we talk?” she whispered.
He paused a moment, then opened the gate, nodding slightly his permission that she should follow him in.
For the longest time, neither of them said anything. She walked toward the big picture window that overlooked the beach and stared out onto the setting sun, almost as if she was afraid to face him, face his anger. Finally, he couldn’t stand it anymore.
“I don’t have all day,” he muttered. “Just tell me one thing: Did you do it for the money? Or do you truly enjoy turning on dirty old men who can’t get it up any other way?”
The color rose in her cheeks. Good, he thought, she’s angry.
God, she is so beautiful when she’s mad.
“Would you say that describes you?” she asked. “Because you know, Sam, you were a pretty regular john yourself!”
A john. Him?
He found himself right next to her, so close to her, in fact, that he could feel her warm breath on his face. He raised his hand, trying hard to resist the urge to slap her.
She stared at it at first, then she took it lovingly, raising it to her lips, kissing his fingers ever so gently.
But he didn’t want to be gentle with her. Roughly, he yanked her close to him. She gasped, not in fear, though, but anticipation. Her open mouth was all the invitation he needed.
Their lips met, finally—
Finally.
They never even made it to the bedroom.
What she remembered afterward was the way he ran his hands over her naked body, softly, worshipfully, as if he’d discovered some precious treasure that would surely dissolve under his touch; and how he paused when he reached her breasts, as if mesmerized. Then, light as a feather, he kissed them, gently, until they hardened. As his tongue circled them hungrily, she let out a moan that stopped him for a moment…but only until she indicated that she longed for him to continue, which she did by grasping his swelling penis firmly in her hand, then guiding it between her legs before wrapping herself around his waist…
…Just like it happened in his fantasy, his thrusts moving in tandem with the lapping waves…
Their orgasm was explosive. They erupted in unison. This he knew because she arched up and moaned ecstatically before convulsing against him, their hearts racing, then, eventually, beating in tempo.
At least, until she whispered in his ear how badly she needed to feel him inside her again.
That time, though, there was no need to rush. Leisurely, he traced every curve, every inch of her, with his tongue, his fingertips…until she groaned with desire.
I
t was long after the sun had fallen below the horizon before they stood up again, shaky, limp, and aching from the pleasure they’d made.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, kissing her gently on the forehead.
“That depends.” Her answer, so playful, reminded him of O.
O.
She’s still standing between us, he thought.
As if she read his mind, the smile melted from her face.
“I think I owe you an explanation,” she said.
He sighed and nodded. Yes, he was all ears.
She started at the beginning: her puppy love for Nathan, and how their immature passion and desire to team their god-given talents took root in what they’d hoped would be a lifelong love.
Then they got to Hollywood, where nothing was permanent.
The daily rejections they faced, coupled with their almost-penniless existence and Jake’s imminent birth—those were the reasons she took on the phone sex job. It was the one way they could survive and buy time until Nathan’s big break came along.
“The end justifies the means. Isn’t that what they say? It was only when you came into our lives and got Nathan on Hugo’s project that I could finally quit! As soon as Nathan’s fee was paid and our SAG insurance kicked in, O was going to disappear, just like that.” She snapped her fingers.
He nodded slowly. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe her; he just couldn’t help the fact that his ego was still bruised.
And whether he wanted to admit it or not, there was a part of him that missed O.
Not that he could say that to her.
Sensing his ambivalence, she added, “Remember, you were the one who said that few people deserve to be up on that pedestal in the first place, that no one is perfect, and that everyone should be allowed one slip-up now and then. Well, Sam, my slip-up was in taking that job in the first place.”
She reached up and cradled his face with both her hands, as if willing him to see her point. “Look, I’m not proud of what I did. But I can live with why I did it, because it kept us going when we might have called it quits. Then I met you…and he met Kat.”
Sam winced at the mention of Kat’s name. It was his time to come clean about his role in Kat’s infatuation with Nathan, and he knew it.
“Nina, I didn’t arrange for Hugo to audition Nathan solely based on his reel. The truth is that Kat requested it.”
“Kat? So, she knew Nathan even before the audition?” Nina’s face crumpled.
Sam knew what she was thinking: that Nathan’s deception had begun prior to the day of Hugo’s birthday.
He couldn’t let her believe that. No matter what he thought of Nathan, he wasn’t going to strip Nina of the last vestige of fondness she had for him.
“No, believe me, he never met her until the audition. She walked into my office while I was watching Nathan’s reel and fell in lust with him at first sight.”
“Wow.” She steadied herself onto his couch. Towser laid his head on her knee, and she stroked it absently. “And to think, if I hadn’t handed you his reel…well, I guess I promoted Nathan right out of my life.”
“Don’t blame yourself. Hell, I’ve been kicking myself since she sank her claws into him. I should have stopped it somehow, told her anything to keep her away.”
“Yeah, dammit, why didn’t you?” Nina was suddenly angry. “You could have made something up, said he’d had a shotgun accident—or that—”
“Hey I know—Jeez, why hadn’t I thought about it before? I could have told her that he’s gay!”
Even as he said it, Sam couldn’t help but laugh, and neither could Nina. In fact, she was laughing so hard that tears were running down her face.
“Nathan gay? Why, he’s so homophobic that he thinks giving a baby boy the wrong name will have him playing for the other team!”
Upon hearing that, Sam doubled over with laughter again. He fell over on her, gasping for air.
She held him close. In fact, she wouldn’t let him go. That was okay. If he could, he’d stay at her side forever. There was nowhere else he wanted to be.
“Hey, Sam, be proud of yourself. You kept your mouth shut, for your clients’ sake. You didn’t even tell O, remember?”
That was true. “If I had told O, how would you have taken it?”
She thought for a moment. “I would have fought for him, of course. But look, Sam, I’m no fool. If it hadn’t been Kat, it would have been someone else, right?”
She drew his face toward hers and kissed him fervently. “Then again, if he had stayed, I wouldn’t have you.”
That night, she had him as often as she wanted.
The next morning, as they opened the front door to go out for a walk on the beach with Towser, they found a battalion of cameras waiting for them.
“Nina, look this way—”
“Nina, is he one of your johns? So you make house calls, too?”
“Hey, Nina, do Nat and Kat know you’re screwing their agent?”
That very thought struck Nina and Sam at the same time: Well, they sure would by the time the photos were uplinked to that afternoon’s newswires.
15
The Backlash
The weekly partners’ meetings at ICA could be described as part accounting seminar/part pep rally. After going over the dull-as-paste business of monthly fee projections, number crunching, budget allotments, and expense reports, everyone was then given an opportunity to show and tell: to boast about done deals, crow over the successful signing of an established star who had jumped ship from another agency, or beat one’s chest about some new fresh-faced talent who had the potential to make it really big.
In other words, lots of tickles, and maybe a couple of farts.
The calling of a special partners’ meeting meant that something had gone terribly wrong.
Certainly it could be categorized as a major fart.
Sam’s affair with Nina fell in this category.
That was not to say that it was the first time in the town’s history that an agent was caught in bed with a client’s wife. Hell, in Hollywood, naughty little affairs were so common, they often went unnoticed.
What did get noticed, and what was frowned upon, was any behavior that might cost the firm business, and Katerina McPherson and Nathan Harte were big business to ICA; business that, if pissed off enough at Sam’s disloyalty, could justifiably jump ship to another shop.
Already the tom-toms were beating: the very desirable duo had been seen at L’Orangerie with two partners from CAA, dining and (justifiably) whining about their current representation over the amuse bouche. So of course Sam’s partners felt justified in calling a special partners’ meeting to discuss this potential loss of income.
“To boink a client’s wife—then to have it plastered all over the gossip rags? Jeez, Sam! Do you know what this has done to the firm’s reputation?” His inquisitioner, Randy Zimmerman, was a partner whom Sam was not particularly fond of. Perhaps it had something to do with Randy’s poaching come-on, which resembled that of a desperate Sunset Strip tranny hooker’s worst line on a rainy Sunday night: “If you need someone to whip, hey, guy, I’m your man…”
Was it any wonder that both Toms had put out a restraining order on him?
“Not a good move, huh, Randy? Tell me, how does it compare to the time that soap actor you represent caught you massaging his wife’s breasts? Look, just because you got him on that CSI spinoff as a series regular and he was kind enough to forgive and forget doesn’t give you the right to be such a sanctimonious pig.”
At that less-than-fond memory, Randy turned the same burgundy color as his Prada loafers. “They don’t compare at all, and you know it! Even if he had jumped ship, what would it have cost the firm? Ten, maybe twenty thou, over the course of three years? Hell, that little piece of ass of yours could cost us several hundred thousand over the same period of time! You know that.”
No one else in the room said a word. Fucking two-faced cowards, Sam thought.
&nb
sp; Randy, fully aware he had his partners’ backing, threw out his trump. “Look, Sam, if it comes down to losing you or Kat, everyone here is in agreement that you don’t make the cut. Having another Oscar nominee on the roster means added prestige for this agency, not to mention that she’s one of the top three actresses at the box office. And with the press he’s getting, Nathan is nothing but potential, too.” Randy leaned in for the kill. “Hey, you still have a chance to pull one out. Believe it or not, Kat and Nat are both willing to stay put—with you—under one condition.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“You’ve got to dump Nina. If you’re willing to do so, they feel that we can all put this behind us and move on.”
Dump Nina, for more fun and games with Kat and Nat?
Not in a million years.
“Fuck that. Sorry. I’m sticking by Nina,” was Sam’s response. “I can make up the billing with other clients.”
“Not at this agency, you can’t. We’re siding with them. In fact, we guessed you might feel that way, and we offered them an alternative: If Katerina and Nathan are agreeable, they can transfer their representation to any other ICA agent they prefer.”
“How convenient. If you’re asking my permission, you’ve got it. The three of you deserve each other. The subject is closed.” Sam started out the door.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Sam, but quite frankly, I wasn’t asking your opinion. Not that I didn’t put that very same suggestion out there to Kat. I don’t know why, but for some reason, she said she’d pass. Go figure.”
It was on the tip of Sam’s tongue to say that the thought of Randy’s hands on Kat’s breasts was possibly the deal breaker, but then he remembered that they were talking about Katerina McPherson, queen of the A-list mactresses, so that wouldn’t have been the case. Kat loved knowing she was a turn-on, to anyone and everyone.
Hell, she’d even come on to Sam on more than one occasion.
Not that he’d ever let Randy know that. It would only give the agency’s resident manwhore more ammo to use against him.