by J A Fielding
“Why don’t you have your mother come visit you here?” he asked.
“I suggested that, but she refuses to leave my father alone. I guess she’s afraid of how much trouble he’ll get himself into. I’ll never understand why she puts up with him.”
“Is she in danger?”
“No, not physically, it’s more of a psychological thing I guess. My father had never worked a day in his life. He spends all his time fishing and working in his garden. My mother works her fingers to the bone to pay the bills and all he does is complain. I don’t even want to talk about the drinking. Just know that once he starts, he doesn’t stop until he’s passed out cold,” she said, suddenly feeling relieved that she’d finally told Ken some of her reality.
“Oh, Leslie that sounds terrible, I’m sorry. My dad may be a colossal pain in the butt, but I know he loves me and he did give me a legacy,” he said, covering her hand with his own across the table.
“Thanks, you’re the first person I’ve told all this too, not that people couldn’t find out if they wanted. Maybe that’s why I’ve been thinking about going home. It might be good to see what the situation is. When my mom and I talk, we never talk about my dad. She keeps me updated on my siblings but that it.”
“I can understand that. It’s a sensitive topic and sometimes we have to leave these things alone until it’s time to deal with them. Sounds to me like you might be ready to deal with some of this. I would be happy to go with you for moral support if it would help,” Ken said, surprised to mean every word of it. Leslie had become important to him, he realized suddenly.
“That’s about the nicest thing anyone had ever offered to do for me, but I haven’t made up my mind yet about going. I still have two weeks of shows and then the Emmy awards. I have no idea what I’m going to wear. my budget isn’t quite as flush as some people’s.”
“I just might be able to help you with that little problem, I know a few people in the garment district, let me make a couple of calls and see what I can do,” Ken said, taking out his phone.
In a matter of minutes, Ken had Leslie scheduled to meet with one of the premiere designers in the city, who promised to find her just the right gown for the ceremony. “You need to be at the studio tomorrow at 3:00 p.m., don’t be late. Of course, I expect to get to see this dress.”
“Well, now that you mention it, I need a date for the night. It’s going to be a long night, but it might be fun. Would you go with me? I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask, but you’ve just made it easy,” she said, blushing.
Seeing the blush on her cheeks, Ken realized just how beautiful Leslie was. He also realized that he was becoming increasingly attracted to her not only physically but emotionally. He had just begun to see the soft side of her that she so rarely showed anyone, and he was looking forward to getting to know this side of her better.
He respected her on a professional level as well. She could be hard as nails or as charming as a situation called for, and she always seemed to sense which was needed. Her intelligence and talent were clear to anyone who took the time to see it. She had a bright future, and he found that he wanted to be a part of it.
“I would be honored to be your escort for the evening. But I’m afraid I need to get back to work, another building inspection. I think this is number 24. My assistant has been keeping track, might have to file a law suit if the inspector fails us again.”
“I’ll call you after my appointment tomorrow afternoon. Thanks again for setting it up,” Leslie said, as they made their way out of the café.
“No problem, I’m looking forward to the night,” he said, kissing her on the cheek for the first time.
“Me too,” she said, feeling a tingle where his lips had touched her cheek.
With only a week until the awards ceremony and Ken battling with the building inspector, Leslie had assumed they would skip their usual coffee dates that week. But Ken insisted, explaining that he wanted to discuss something with her.
Leslie’s interested was peaked naturally. Ken was usually very straight and open about things, this must be important if he only wanted to discuss it in person. She was nervous when she got to the café, which was silly, but nevertheless, her heart was beating a little faster.
Seeing him at their usual table, she crossed the room and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, surprising them both. They exchanged the usual pleasantries about the weather and their jobs before Ken got to the point.
“I wanted to talk to you about something before the awards ceremony. Since I’m firmly convinced that you’re going to win that award, I want to get my appeal in before everyone else does,” he said.
“I’m glad you have such faith in me, but I hardly think I’ll be in that much demand if I win, and that’s a big if,” she said, shaking her head. “But go ahead, what’s on your mind?”
“Well, I don’t have to tell you just how hard a lot of people have worked to take Paradise Towers from a dream to a reality. I want to create a documentary showing the project from start to finish. It should include some footage of the new technologies that we’re not only using but that were developed especially for this project.”
“That sounds like quite an undertaking. Who have you been considering for the job? I could give you some contact information for documentary makers I know,” she said, rooting around in her purse for her phone.
“Leslie,” he said, grabbing her arm to stop her. “I want you to do the documentary.”
“Me? That’s not my specialty. I produce late night television,” she said, immediately formulating more excuses.
“That’s true now, but I did some research. You used to produce award-winning documentaries. You know you can do this and if you think about it, you’ll want to,” he said, giving her a minute to think about it.
“I haven’t done documentaries in a while. Do you have a narrator lined up? When were you thinking of starting? Do you already have any footage?” She was suddenly the producer.
“Well, I want you to be the narrator.” She started to interrupt, but he held up his hand to stop her. “Once again, I know you’ve done it before. The camera loves you,” he finished.
They spent the rest of their coffee hour discussing the project. For each objection she proposed, he had an equally convincing argument why she should. He explained that as part of the project they had hired a camera man to film every step of the project.
“We already have hundreds of hours of film to work with. I need a talented producer to put the film into a useable form and add dialogue. You would be perfect for the job.”
“I’m so tempted, but I only have an eight-week break between seasons, and I really think it’s time I made a trip home. Will that be enough time to create what you’re looking for?” she asked, already compiling a list of people she would want on the project.
“You will have a big budget to work with. There are a lot of people who would like to see this project completed not only on time but with your quality of work. Hire as many people to work on it as you want, and of course you will be compensated for your time.”
“I’m going to need a week to go back home, it’s just something I need to do.”
“That’s not a problem, and my offer still stands, I’ll go with you if you want.”
Leslie knew that Ken was offering her the chance of a lifetime. Any documentary maker out there would die to have this opportunity. She hadn’t produced or narrated one in long time, but once documentary making had been her passion.
“I’ll do it. I’ll definitely do it,” she said, giving in to what she knew was inevitable.
“Good, now I know it will be great. Mark Swanson is our photographer. I told him I was approaching you and he was sure you would turn me down. But he’ll be excited to hear you’ve signed on. I’ll get you his number so you two can touch base.”
“Wow, you hired Mark? I’ve worked with him before, he’s good.”
“He was excited to join the project, well n
ow that we’ve settled that on to more pressing matters. What time should I pick you up for the awards?”
They finalized their plans for the awards and both headed off to work. Leslie was now looking forward to the night. She had decided win or lose, it was an honor to be nominated. She had the most beautiful dress she had ever worn hanging in the closet at her apartment, an appointment with her favorite salon for a full treatment that day, and a date with a guy she was coming to like more and more.
The rest of the season flew by in a flash, every show running like clockwork, guests behaved themselves hoping to be asked to return, and David was wallowing in the attention the Emmy’s had given the show. The final show of the season featured fellow Emmy nominees and had the biggest viewership the show had ever had.
They closed the season with a cast party that would last well into the early morning hours. Ken stopped by as did many previous guests, and the night went by in a blur. Ken saw Leslie home to her door as the sun was just rising, promising to call the next afternoon.
She was exhausted but exited for the awards show the next night. She fell into bed for a few hours of sleep before her appointment at the salon, thinking of Ken and his chocolate brown eyes as she fell asleep.
Chapter 3
The trip to the salon was wonderful; she emerged feeling refreshed and pampered, something she rarely felt since she didn’t treat herself to this much personal time that often. Her hair was done up in a complicated style that would be perfect for her dress.
By the time Ken arrived at her apartment, she was ready to go; nervous, but ready. They both paused for a minute when Leslie opened the door. Ken was stunning in a black tuxedo. She’d seen him in a suit often enough, but there was something about a man in a tux that just got her blood rushing. Leslie’s dress was a shimmering creation of silver silk, cut low in just the right places. It molded to her body, showing off her curves.
Ken had to swallow several times before speaking. “You look fantastic. That dress looks like it was made for you. Everyone will jealous of me with you on my arm tonight,” he said, stepping inside and giving her a quick kiss on the lips.
Blushing not only from the compliment, but the kiss, she said, “Thank you, you look pretty good yourself.”
“Shall we go collect your award?” he asked, taking her arm to escort her to the limo waiting out front.
They arrived in style and were photographed like they were movie stars. They walked the red carpet, and Leslie even gave a few interviews to journalists who knew who she was. It was all so exciting and it was wonderful to have someone to share it with. Ken was graceful and soft spoken, avoiding taking any of the spotlight away from Leslie.
After the required hour of socialization, people began to take their seats for the awards ceremony. Leslie felt sure that she wouldn’t win the award, but still had butterflies in her stomach thinking about it. Reminding herself that this might be a once in a lifetime experience, she pushed the nerves away and promised herself she would have fun tonight.
Because she was a nominee, they had seats in the front of the theatre and would be right in the middle of the action. Leslie was perfectly at ease with the Hollywood upper crust since she had met most of them at one time or another on the show.
Ken was pleased to see she had an inner grace that seemed to materialize when needed. He marveled at the fact that Leslie seemed to have so many layers, each just as intriguing as the last. She could shine in just about any situation from the stress of a high-powered production job to the glitz and glamour of Hollywood. He was looking forward to finding more depths of her personality. She may not realize it but they were perfect for each other and he intended to make her a part of his life.
Leslie didn’t win the award for producer of the year but wasn’t really all that upset. It had been a fantastic night. They had made their way to more than ten different parties, not able to make it to any more out of sheer exhaustion.
“I had a wonderful time tonight. Thank you for following me around Hollywood, it meant a lot that you were there,” Leslie said, as they got on the elevator in her building.
“It was a magical night. One I won’t forget for a long time,” he said, taking her hand in his.
“Thanks for walking me up, you didn’t have to, but since you’re here, would you like to come in?” she asked as the elevators doors opened.
“As much as I would like to, I have an early meeting tomorrow and I really should get a few hours of sleep. But before I leave you,” he said, taking her face in his hands, he gently kissed her lips, “I have been wanting to do this all night.”
Pulling back, he looked into her eyes and seeing the invitation there bent to kiss her again. This time he gently parted her lips with his tongue and slid his arms down her back and pulled her closer. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and melted in his arms.
When the kiss ended, Leslie was breathless and a little shocked by her own response. Desire was thundering through her body, and her heart was pounding in her chest. “Oh, my...”
“Mmm, I agree, but I’m sorry I really have to go, but call me and we can continue this later,” Ken said, planting another kiss on her lips before abruptly turning and heading for the elevator.
Leslie let herself into her apartment in a daze; men had never played a big role in her life. Most she’s met couldn’t stand up to her strong personality and drive. Nor could they cope with her work schedule. She’d long ago given up on finding a man that could compliment her life instead of trying to change it.
Now Ken had appeared in her life, challenging her belief. He was nothing like what she imagined the man of her dreams to be, but something about him sparked not only her interest, but obviously her desire. Life had a strange way of surprising you, she’d just take it one day at a time. She and Ken would be working closely together over the next few weeks on the documentary, and she might even take him up on his offer to go with her on her visit home.
She dreaded that trip more than anything in the world but if her name was going to be flying around Hollywood she better be prepared for what someone might find if they delved too deeply into her background. She wasn’t ashamed of her mother but her father was another story.
She could just imagine what he must be like ten years later. When she’d left home, he’d been well on his way to becoming a fat, lazy, hate-filled drunk. Her mother said he’d changed, but she didn’t believe that for a minute.
Her mother had always made excuses for her father, never realizing just how awful he was to Leslie when she wasn’t around. Her mother worked as a night nurse at the local hospital, she was home for only a few minutes with Leslie each afternoon before she had to go to work. That left long stretches of time alone with her father, who, by dinner time, would be well on his way to being drunk.
Shaking herself out of her funk, she realized that now was not the time to be musing over her defective family. She would have to tell Ken more if he was going with her, but that could wait. Instead, she let her thoughts drift back over the night as she got ready for bed. Then she snuggled down into the covers, but just as she was about to fall asleep, her phone played Ken’s distinctive ring tone.
She punched in her password and brought up his text:
Goodnight Princess
She quickly typed texted back:
Goodnight Warrior
Feeling a little silly but pleased at the same time, she fell asleep thinking about Ken’s kiss and how much she wanted another one.
After taking a much-needed day off to rest and recuperate after a whirlwind couple of weeks, Leslie was ready to take on Ken’s documentary. She got a hold of Mark and arranged to come to his studio to see the footage he had filmed. Ken had said it covered the project from beginning to end, and he had been right.
There were hours and hours of film and it would be Leslie’s job to decide what should be included in the film. She would also write the narration and perform it on film. She was very nervous about that par
t of her job, but decided to put that worry off until it was time to record the soundtrack.
Leslie also had a list of people Ken felt should be interviewed for the film, each had played a major role in the project’s success. She decided to start at the beginning and contact a professor who was listed as the head architect for the project.
He readily agreed to an interview, and they made plans to meet the next day, which surprised her since he was from MIT. He explained that Ken had already called him in anticipation that he would be her first phone call. He’d already booked a flight for the morning and would arrive in plenty of time for the interview.
Taking a look at the list again, she was amazed to find that many of the people that had been involved in the project were spread around the country; either they would have to come to her or she would have to travel to them. Considering how little time she had to complete this project, travel could become an issue.
Ken hadn’t considered the issue but was happy to provide her with money for travel expenses for anyone she wanted to interview. He also arranged to have a car provided for her use when she was working on the documentary. As her to do list began to grow, she was relieved that she’d talked Bruce into coming over to help.
He was not the only member of her crew that she had brought in on to the project. Some had never worked on a film let alone a documentary, but she trusted these people and they were all highly talented professionals who knew how to do their jobs.
She and Bruce spent the afternoon putting together interviews and travel plans for nearly everyone on her list. It would be a frantic few weeks but the interviews were critical to the project. By the end of the day she was exhausted but excited to get started.
Ken called just as she was getting ready to leave for the day. He’d been home to China; he made the trip about once a month, mostly to see his family but also to check on his business interests there. He had recently given some of the responsibility over to one of his younger brothers who was more than capable of keeping things profitable and running smoothly. But he still wanted to keep a close eye on things for a few months.