“Great, thanks. I was going for that. So, do you want a house tour?” I asked and she shook her head immediately. I wasn't used to that. House tours were my thing. Usually by the time I showed the girl the bedroom we'd already fucked in the kitchen and the living room. Sometimes the bathroom too.
“I'd like to just go to bed,” she said.
“Well, my room's at the top of the stairs...” with her current mood I knew that I was pushing my luck but I couldn't help it. The sex was so fucking mind blowing with this girl that if there was even the slightest chance that I would get it again, I had to try. She wrinkled her little nose at me.
“No, I want to go to bed alone.”
“Right, sure. I'll show you the guest room,” I said. There was still a chance. Just because she didn't want to sleep in the same bed as me didn't mean that she didn't want to fuck me. Although sleeping together had been nice...nicer than I'd expected, it wasn't my thing. Maybe we were on the same page. That sure wasn't a bad thing.
The guest bedroom was bigger than Savannah's apartment in its entirety. It had a king sized bed with the finest Egyptian cotton sheets and soft, memory foam pillows that adjusted to how you slept. There was a bookshelf in the corner where I kept some of my favorites (as well as a few of my unauthorized biographies which I found to be hilarious). For fun I'd also provided a mini fridge filled with snacks (minus the hefty bill) for my guests and even a retro arcade machine that I'd bought with my first big check. Most of my guests appreciated the little touches but Savannah didn't even comment.
“Thanks Dane. I'm fine from here,” she said, looking at me expectantly. It took a moment for me to realize what she was saying. She wanted me to leave her alone.
“OK. Do you want dinner?”
“No. I'm fine.”
“Right, OK. Sure,” I said, “See you in the morning.”
As soon as I stepped out into the hall the door closed in my face. Wow. Not what I was used to. Maybe I'd bitten off more than I could chew by inviting her to stay with me like this. Then again, she hadn't asked to be hounded by paparazzi. It was my responsibility to keep her safe until they had lost interest. Then I would kick her to the curb. That was exactly what I would do.
I had always enjoyed having such a huge space to myself, but for the first time it started feeling too big. It made me feel empty and alone and I desperately wanted someone to talk to.
I attempted to lure Savannah downstairs by cooking one of my most fragrant savory dishes, chicken satay. I hoped that the smell would waft upstairs and tempt her to come down and eat with me, but no luck. I ate the satay in front of my flat screen TV, alone.
It was a welcome relief when my cell phone rang, even when Craig's name appeared on the caller ID. He wasn't supposed to contact me after six, but he rarely followed that rule. I pressed the answer button just to see what he had to say.
“Dane buddy, great to hear from you!” he said. Jesus Christ, I was starting to miss the silence now. His voice always cut through me. It was so overly pleasant, which always meant that he wanted something from me.
“What do you want? Make it fucking quick,” I snapped. Craig interpreted this as 'please ask me a number of stupid questions before you get to the actual point'.
“Why, are you with a lady friend?” I asked teasingly. Oh god, the worst thing ever was when he tried to buddy up with me about shit like this. I'd already told him a million times that I wouldn't be setting him up with any models.
“No,” I said firmly.
“That's not like you,” he said, before adding, “But if the rumors are true you haven't been yourself lately.”
Shit, that was the other annoying thing about Craig. He read tabloids as if they were the gospel and often badgered me to do exclusives with them. Well, fuck that. I wasn't going to give those vultures anything.
“Jesus Craig, what have you read now? Am I gay or do I have a secret family again? Or is it the one about me secretly being an alien reptile,” I said, referring to just a handful of the rumors these shitty magazines had discussed in the past.
“Haha, very funny. No, none of those. It's about that Savannah Finn woman,” he said and I went completely silent. It felt strange hearing Craig say her name. I didn't like how it sounded in his California accent, “I take it you know who I'm talking about?”
“I know Savannah, yeah.”
“Good, that's a start. But how well do you know her, Dane?” he asked. “I just know her.”
“OK, you're going to have to be more specific here. I'm your manager and I need you to be honest with me,” he said, “Are you dating this woman?”
“Craig, you know I don't date,” I said. I hadn't been on a date in the whole time he'd represented me. He should have known better by now, but clearly not. It wasn't like he was the smartest guy in the world.
“Right, I'm glad you remember that. Need I remind you that you're Dane Reynolds? The master of the wham bam, thank you ma'am? The man who can't be tamed but god damn it, do women want to try?” he said. OK, this was just getting strange now. Nothing he was saying was false but I didn't like how he worded it.
“Yeah, so?”
“So, that's your image, your brand. Women go to see your movies because you're the bad boy who makes their panties wet. Men go to see your movies because they want to be you. If you settle down with some small town girl, that's all gone,” he said, “Do you know how hard it is to keep a sexy image as a family man? I've lost some great clients to Suburbia, Dane and I don't want you to be one of them.”
He was speaking absolute gibberish. I had no idea what he was implying.
“Craig, what the fuck are you talking about?” I asked. Craig sighed deeply on the other end of the phone.
“I'm talking about Savannah Finn, your fiancee according to the LA Breeze magazine,” he said. The word fiancee cut into me like a knife. I'd never wanted to hear it, especially in reference to anything to do with me. I wasn't the guy with the fiancee. I wasn't even the guy with the girlfriend. I didn't even have time to commit to a regular fuck buddy. I was the guy who fucked the pretty girls and then left them pining after me. That was it.
“That's complete garbage,” I said, “We're not engaged. We're not even dating. I just fucked her a few times.”
Craig sighed again. “A few times?”
“I know it's not like me, but it just worked out that way. Good pussy is good pussy,” I said, though I lowered my voice in case Savannah heard me. I didn't need her to hear herself referred to like that. She wouldn't take kindly to it, that was for sure.
“Oh, I'm not arguing with that buddy. I get what I can. If you wanna fuck around with this girl then that's up to you, but she can't be seen wearing an engagement ring,” he said.
“That's not a problem.”
As if I would buy her an engagement ring.
“It is, actually,” said Craig, “She was photographed wearing a ring on her left ring finger. An antique emerald, people are saying. Good choice, by the way. Emerald rings have already become more popular for engagements since that picture was published.”
“Craig, I didn't buy her a ring,” I said, though I wondered if I didn't who did. Did Savannah have some secret fiance that I didn't know about? I shouldn't have cared, but I did.
“Well, whatever. Just tell her not to wear it,” he said. That would be a fun conversation.
“I will. Is that all you wanted to bug me about?” I asked, but unfortunately Craig wasn't finished with me. He changed the subject to one of the latest movies that I'd filmed, 'The Lady in the red dress'. Yeah I know. It was as awful as it sounded, a melodramatic piece of shit about some woman's self destructive path in life. I played her lover, who fucked her a lot and let her die in his arms at the end of the film. It was garbage, artsy crap but they paid a lot and I didn't have to travel for it so I had accepted it. Well, it turned out that after editing the film had come up to short, so they needed to film a few more scenes with me. Somehow, this was all part of my c
ontract. God damn it, it would be the last time that I ever did an indie film. This kind of shit always happened.
“Yeah, I'll be there tomorrow at eight. Bye Craig,” I cut him off mid sentence and hung up. I didn't have time for any more crap, especially if I was going to have to get up early in the morning. I needed sleep and plenty of it.
I went upstairs and lingered for a moment outside of Savannah's room. I couldn't hear a sound, but there was light streaming out from under the door. She was awake. Maybe I should confront her about the ring.
“Goodnight, Dane,” she called through the door, taking me off guard. Shit, I must have made a lot of noise coming up the stairs.
“Night Savannah,” I said.
We could talk in the morning.
Chapter Seven
Savannah
I spent the evening locking myself away in Dane's beautiful guest bedroom, even though I wanted more than anything to hang out with him. It was just too dangerous. I was already feeling vulnerable from being fired. He'd been so kind to me in the midst of all this drama as well. I knew that if I let my guard down I would fall in love. Well, that wasn't going to happen. I couldn't let it happen. I didn't want to be just another Dane Reynolds groupie.
Instead, I called my mom and reassured her that I was all right. She had a million questions and I had to lie in response to most of them. Yes I knew Dane Reynolds, but no we weren't romantically linked. I was helping him design his own menswear collection which was why we were spending so much time together. It was also the reason why I wasn't working for the agency anymore. Yes, I was being paid plenty and this might just be my big break. Yes, I was taking vitamins. I said goodbye and hung up, feeling worn out from the conversation as well as the jet lag. I was such a fantastic liar, it was a shame that I couldn't make a career of it. I got undressed and slept for a while. I woke up to the sound of footsteps outside the bedroom. It was Dane of course, hoping that I'd invite him inside. I told him goodnight before I had time to allow myself to give into temptation. Sleeping alone wasn't nice, but it was better than getting my heart broken. I put all the worries I had out of my head as best I could and allowed myself to sleep properly this time, through the night and without further interruption. It turned out that was exactly what I needed.
When I woke up there was light streaming through the window and the sun was already risen. It felt so nice to wake up in a comfortable bed with a beautiful view. My work responsibilities were gone and now, for the first time in a while, I felt hopeful. Maybe this would be the fresh start I needed.
There was a knock on my bedroom door. Three guesses who that was. I wrapped the bed sheet around myself, got up and opened the door.
Dane was standing there, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt that showed off his muscle definition. It took all I had not to reach out and feel that hard abdomen and those big, tattooed biceps. He smirked at me.
“Are you naked under there?” he said, and I felt myself flushing.
“I didn't bring pajamas, so yeah. Are you gonna be annoying about it?” I said. Dane shook his head but he couldn't keep the grin off of his face.
“No. I guess you didn't have time to pack anything, did you?” he said, then his eyes fell to my left hand, “Except that.”
“Huh?” I lifted up my hand and saw what he was talking about. My emerald ring. “Oh this? I wear this all the time.”
The smile disappeared.
“Who gave it to you?” he asked, and he couldn't help adding, “I didn't know you were engaged to someone.”
“My grandma gave it to me. It was her engagement ring. I wear it on my left hand because I wear a Cladagh ring on the right,” I said, showing him, “It's no big deal. I know the rule is that the left is for when you're married, but it's my body and I'll do what I want.”
“Something tells me you'll always do what you want,” said Dane, but he seemed happy again now. I wasn't sure if that was an insult or a compliment, but I decided to take what I could get.
“Anyway, what do you want? It's still early. I thought movie stars slept in all day,” I said. Dane shook his head.
“Not this movie star. I've got to re shoot some scenes today for this shitty indie movie. Just figured I'd let you know that I'm leaving in thirty minutes. You can take what you want from the fridge and use the TV, or whatever. I thought you should know in case you figured I got murdered or something.”
“Oh, OK,” I said. The two of us just stood there, awkwardly looking each other up and down, until Dane spoke again.
“Or you can come with me.”
Well, how was I supposed to say no to that?
Dane
Inviting Savannah to set was what Craig would call a 'fucking terrible idea'. I knew it, she knew it, we both knew it. She wouldn't fit in. Yet, I wanted her to be there anyway and see that I didn't spend all my time posing for magazines and fucking actresses. That was just some of the work.
The first problem arose before we even left the house. Savannah had nothing to wear. The only clothing she had was the outfit she'd worn on the airoplane.
“So, wear it again?” I said. This was not what she wanted to hear from me.
“Wear it again? Wear it again? Dane, I'm not wearing a two day old outfit to a movie set!” she insisted. I reminded her that it was an indie movie and the director was some film school punk who probably didn't even change his underwear. Savannah didn't care. She needed something else. “Fine, I'll let you look through my closet,” I said. She didn't look very hopeful, but it was better than nothing. Besides, it wasn't like she didn't have a lot to choose from. I was a jeans and t-shirt kind of guy at heart but that didn't do in Hollywood. I got sent all of these suits to wear on the red carpet and designer shirts that probably cost more than Savannah's rent. I needed a large walk in closet just to store all of that crap. I barely even looked in it most of the time.
When I opened the door to let Savannah in her eyes nearly popped out of her head.
“Your closet is so big!” she exclaimed, “I wish I had one like this. And stuff to fill it with!” I shrugged.
“Makes it hard to find stuff sometimes. Anyway, if you can find anything that will fit you you can take it, I don't care,” I said, but she was already off in her own little world. She stroked my suit jackets and gave a soft moan and the feel of the material. She admired my shoes and told me that they were Italian, which was news to me. Then she found a crisp white shirt and held it up.
“This is perfect,” she said, though it was about four sizes too big for her, “I'll wear this.”
I opened my mouth to ask how the fuck she expected it to fit her small frame, but I quickly closed it again. Just as if I wasn't there, Savannah let the sheets drop so that she was standing naked in front of me. Though I'd seen it all before I couldn't help but admire the soft contours of her body, the full breasts, tiny waist and curvy hips that I just wanted to grab. I watched, speechless as she put on my white shirt and buttoned it up over her naked body. It looked amazing on her pale skin and draped her frame like a dress. She gave it a little bit of shape using her own belt and let down her hair. “How do I look?” she asked cheerily, admiring herself in the mirror.
“You look great,” I said. She looked beautiful. Radiant, even. I wanted to kiss her so badly, but I didn't feel like being rebuffed right now.
“Thanks,” she smiled, “So, will we go?”
“Sure.”
Savannah
Dane's driver brought us to a studio just on the outskirts of time. There was a booth that we had to go through to be allowed inside. The limo slowed and Dane rolled down the window.
“ID please,” said the man in the booth. He was looking down at something but suddenly, his eyes met Dane's and I could see the look of sheer panic spread across his features, “Oh, Mr Reynolds! I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there!”
“That's no problem,” said Dane, with his sparkling white movie star smile. It was funny to see how people lapped that shit up.
&n
bsp; “Please, go right ahead and I hope you both have a great day,” said the booth operator, giving me a glance. I wondered if he recognized me from those paparazzi photos or not. It was strange that people knew my name now and cared who I was sleeping with. I was still boring old Savannah and yet being associated with this star had driven me to infamy. It all felt like a strange dream that I wasn't sure I wanted to wake up from.
Dane rolled the window back up and we felt the limo move forward once again. He glanced at me. “You nervous?” he said with a smile, “You shouldn't be nervous.”
“I'm not nervous,” I said, but my voice was shaking. So maybe I was a little on edge, but I'd never been in this kind of environment before. I imagined that everyone would be talented and beautiful and I'd just be sitting there, watching them all. As out of place as I usually was. It was a scary thought.
Dane saw right through me, of course.
“Hey, seriously, there's no reason to be nervous,” he said, uncharacteristically gently. Hah, of course there was no reason to be nervous. Not if you were Dane Reynolds, the star of the show. The production would be ruined if he pulled out, so of course they were going to go out of their way to be kind and accommodating to him. Me on the other hand? I would be a nuisance at best, taking up space where I wasn't wanted. Even so, I knew that turning the opportunity down would be a mistake. How often did most normal people get to visit movie sets during filming? Not many.
Sweetest Sin: Bad Boy Bundle Page 70