by A. C. Arthur
Parker also knew she would be on point with that scene just as Giovanni had ordered. Hell, she’d been perfect today convincing him and everyone else watching that she was enjoying everything that Tyler Cants was doing to her…that’s where her performance struck Parker right in the gut. He remembered standing there, watching Tyler pulling that sheet off of her and thinking he’d like nothing more than to run across that set and grab the guy up by his neck. First, he would kick his ass, then when the guy was looking at him through two blackened eyes, Parker would fire him for daring to put his hands on Adriana’s smooth, delicate skin.
Of course, he’d never touched her the way Cants had so he had no way of knowing if her skin was actually smooth and delicate, but for his extremely active imagination where she was concerned. He could close his eyes—just as they were now—and conjure her in so many poses, so many outfits, and just about naked. His fingers would tingle at the thought of touching her, his lips parting as he prepared to kiss her.
The phone’s vibration drumming on his chest yanked Parker abruptly from that thought and he hurriedly picked it up.
I apologize for snapping at you. I was rude and it wasn’t necessary.
She responded. He smiled slowly and typed.
What are you doing up so late?
Can’t sleep.
Need me to tell you a bedtime story?
Again, Parker smiled as he waited for his phone to vibrate once more.
LOL No thank you.
He paused a moment before pressing send, but shrugged and did it anyway.
I’m an expert at putting women to sleep.
Just bet you are.
Parker was the one to laugh out loud this time.
Ok. I tried. You need to rest, early morning tomorrow.
I know. Thank you again for the opportunity.
No thanks required. You’re doing a fabulous job…and making me a ton of money.
Then we are even. Good night, Parker.
He stared at the screen wondering what she was wearing, if she were lying in her bed with only another sheet covering her body. In seconds he was hard and ready to what? Get dressed, climb into his car, go to her house and make love to her. Yeah right, maybe he was the one who needed to get some rest.
Good night, Adriana.
Chapter 3
“It’s too small,” Adriana said with a frown as she struggled to pull the dress over her head.
“Then we’ll try something else,” Liza King, the wardrobe supervisor replied with a smile.
Liza was always smiling, whether it was a five a.m. call or a midnight re-take, she would happily dress every actor in the building as if it was what she were born to do. Even when the actor was a little cranky.
“But it’s my size,” Adriana continued, once she was free of the too-tight garment, her hair and attitude more than a little ruffled now.
It was almost four in the afternoon, which meant she’d been up and moving for twelve hours straight. More if she counted the time she’d lain awake before and after Parker’s text messages. Speaking of which, she was still beyond shocked that he’d reached out to her that way. She was one of those people that never turned her cell phone off, even though she rarely received calls or texts after a certain time of night. Unless it was an emergency. So the notification chime had jolted her as she’d lay in her bed late last night. A small part of her had wondered if it were Dr. Aldana calling because she’d somehow known about the binging thoughts that had been plaguing Adriana lately. She’d told herself that was silly, that Dr. Aldana was all the way in Connecticut so there was no way she could know what was going on here in Miami, in the privacy of Adriana’s apartment. Still, the guilt had her hands shaking as she’d reached for the phone, a sigh of relief and trepidation escaping when she saw Parker’s text.
The conversation had been simple enough but it still had her feeling a little off kilter when she’d finally climbed out of bed this morning and began getting ready for work. That made coming into the studio to a love scene with another man on the set that she actually despised, even harder.
Tyler Cants was a pompous, arrogant, ass who may have been picture-perfect and a clear candidate for Most Sexiest Man alive, but lacked sorely in the personality department. And to top all that off, he was a horrible kisser. This morning had proved no different, but Adriana had reminded herself that this was the job she’d wanted so desperately. Actually, it had been the job she needed to save her life.
“It may just be the cut of the material. That happens sometimes,” Liza continued, pushing hangers across the steel rod of the rack until she found something else that suited her.
“Here we go, let’s try this one,” she told Adriana as she passed her a black jumpsuit. “This will be perfect for the scene.”
After years of modeling Adriana didn’t have a modest bone in her body. She could dress and undress in record time in front of just about anyone. It had come with the job and she’d grown accustomed to it, even though it took a lot more courage for her to look at her own body with or without clothes. Still, she was able to take the black material and step into it quickly, turning so that Liza could reach the zipper in the back. She held her breath with the thought that she may not be able to fit this one. Her head was pounding in sync with her heart and she felt a little lightheaded, but she remained perfectly still, her eyes closed as she waited.
“There, like I said perfect,” Liza told her with a pat against her bare arm. “Open your eyes, silly girl.”
Liza was maybe in her late thirties. She was shorter than Adriana’s five foot ten inch stature with a round and jovial face that right at this moment was peeping around her so that when Adriana opened her eyes she could see her through the mirror’s reflection. It was that face, and the steady hand on her shoulder that made it easier for Adriana to look up and at herself. The jumpsuit was gorgeous, all scalloped black lace that lay against her golden hued skin in startling contrast. It hugged her small waist, cupped her breasts that always seemed too big for her thin frame, and curved ever so slightly at her hips. When she turned to the side it was knowing that there wouldn’t be any ‘Apple Bottom’ curve to her backside. There never had been and she’d made peace with that fact long ago. Still, there was a slight bump that actually filled out the jumpsuit rather well.
“I’ll send in hair and make-up,” Liza continued after another pat on Adriana’s arm. She’d crossed the room while Adriana surprised herself by continuing to stare at herself in the mirror.
“Accessories are over here,” she heard Liza talking and the jewelry she was picking out for her to wear with this outfit clanking against the dressing table as the woman removed it from the colossal box of goodies as she’d called them. “You have fifteen minutes before you have to be on the set.”
“I’ll be there,” Adriana replied absently, just before the shrill sound of her ringtone had her jumping, similar to the way she had last night.
Chastising herself for being silly, Adriana waved Liza and her quickly concerned look away. She moved to the small table beside the couch where she’d set her purse and phone this morning when she’d come in. She immediately pushed the talk button and answered without checking the caller ID.
“Hey Beanie, saw your pretty face on the news and figured I’d give you a call to see how you’re handling all this newfound fame.”
Adriana closed her eyes at the familiar voice, shaking her head and dismissing the remnants of guilt that still clung to her conciseness even though she’d been successful in resisting the binge. Besides he wouldn’t know that she’d almost had a setback, none of her family would, Adriana vowed.
“Hey Rico,” she spoke to one of her older brothers. “I’m ok. How are you?”
Her voice sounded cool even though she was feeling anything but. Adriana hated these moments, despised the lapse in the fragile confidence she’d worked so long and hard to build.
“I’m working hard for my money unlike some people that just loo
k like they’re having too much fun going to parties and smiling for pictures,” he said jokingly.
“You must be talking about the season finale party. That was weeks ago. And believe me it’s not as fun as it looks,” she told him honestly. It had actually been extremely stressed, especially when that reporter had approached her in the bathroom inquiring about her health. When Adriana had tried to sidestep her, giving a basic “I’m just fine” reply, the woman had pushed, going so far as to mention the years she’d struggled with bulimia.
And that’s when it had begun. The slow, but steady erosion of every bit of self-esteem she’d managed to reclaim in the last five years. Even thinking about it now had her shaking.
“Wait, are you sure you’re okay?” Rico asked then, his voice full of concern. “You don’t sound so good. Are the Donovans treating you alright down there? Because you know if they’re not—”
“No! Rico, I’m fine, really,” she said interrupting her brother that she knew would be on a plane heading down here at the mere thought that something might be wrong with her. “I’m just tired. We had an early call this morning and we’re still going. In fact,” she added, nodding as Cher, the make-up artist, poked her head in the door. “I have to get back to the set. Tell mom and dad and everyone I said hello. I miss you all so much.”
Her voice had hitched on those last words as she realized how tough it had been in this last year to be away from her family. It was beyond strange since she’d been traveling the world since she was eighteen years old. Being away from her hometown was nothing new and yet, it felt as if it were, as if everything around her was new and unknown.
“We miss you too, Beanie. Listen, if you need anything…anything, Adriana, I want you to call me. Do you understand? Pick up the phone and call me, whenever or whatever it is,” Rico told her seriously.
Adriana nodded, then sighed and told him, “I will. Don’t worry. I’m good.”
“You’re the best,” he told her. “Don’t forget that.”
“I won’t,” she said quietly. “Bye, Rico.”
Adriana disconnected that call before the tears began to flow and stood there for another second or so practicing the slow and deliberate breathing techniques she’d perfected over the years. She’d come too far to break down now, for any reason. On another deep inhale and slow exhale, she turned to where Cher was opening her make-up case and went to sit down, to get her face done and then to head to the set. To do the job she’d wanted to do all her life.
Regardless of the repercussions.
#
“So he wants to fire her?” Parker asked, agitation clear in his tone as he sat back in the black leather office chair.
Savian, his younger brother by one year, sat in one of the guest chairs, his charcoal gray suit, crisp white shirt and silk tie showcasing his stayed and unruffled persona. He’d been in Parker’s office for just five minutes and already the atmosphere had completely shifted so that now Parker was no longer contemplating how he could see Adriana again, he knew without a doubt that he would be paying a visit to the studio. Today. The minute Savian walked out of his office.
“He’s just got some complaints about her,” Savian reported, his tone level as he held Parker’s gaze.
Savian knew how to read people. He knew how far to push and when to pull back, how to draw out a statement so that a person might be ready to strangle him with impatience and how to get so quickly to the point one might think they’d missed something if they weren’t paying close enough attention. His mother called Savian her watchful and insightful child, the one that didn’t speak much but saw everything. Parker always thought of him as the goody-two-shoes of the family, since Regan was stubborn and rebellious. He, on the other hand, was the playful and laid-back son of Reginald and Carolyn. Until this moment when there was no smile on his face, no joking about this current conversation.
“Like what?” he inquired, folding his hands together to keep from balling them into fists because he actually felt like hitting someone. That wasn’t a familiar feeling, but it wasn’t foreign either. He and his cousin Dion had been known for their brawls when they were younger, with each other and with anyone who thought they were big and bad enough to step to either of them or their siblings.
“Lateness, not knowing her lines, not following his directions, stuff like that,” Savian told him. “He said he’s been trying to talk to her, taking into consideration that she’s new and that she’s special…to you.”
That last was said slowly and implicitly without any change in Savian’s expression. His complexion just a shade or so lighter than Parker’s, those eyes that differed from his older brother’s only slightly, even his hands resting on the arms of the chair remained the same, still and observant.
Parker did the same. “Adriana Bennett is special to me,” he said the words, felt something shift in the center of his chest and quickly dismissed it. “So let me guess, that’s how she got the job in the first place, because of how “special” she is to me?”
Savian shrugged. “That’s my take on it.”
“That’s bullshit!”
“Is it?”
The stare down continued. It was the kind of tense moment of truth that could only be had by two people that knew each other as well as they knew themselves, by brothers that oftentimes felt more like twins. Parker knew what he wanted to say, he knew what he should say and yet, he did not say either.
“That show is number one in the country, Savian. It’s beating out long running reality shows and dramas on other networks during the same time slot. Both Adriana and Cants are receiving top-notch nods for their performances. Cants has even landed a part in Speilberg’s next sci-fi flick,” Parker stated matter-of-factly.
Savian nodded. “You’re right on all counts.”
“Lori doesn’t have a problem with her and she’s the goddamned showrunner,” he stated feeling his entire body tense as he did.
“I’ve talked to her already and you’re right again.” Savian leaned forward then, letting his elbows fall to his thighs as he kept his gaze on Parker. “I’m going to ask you a question and I’d like an answer.”
Parker nodded his response because he wasn’t in the habit of dodging anyone’s direct questions, especially not his brother’s.
“Did you hire her because you want to sleep with her?”
“No,” he replied honestly. “I hired her because Jaydon spoke highly of her. The meeting with Jaydon came as a result of the Bennetts’ connection to the Desdunes and their connection to us. I talked to you, dad and Regan about it first and we all agreed.”
“We all agreed because you were adamant about her talent. You were convinced that she was the person to play Serena,” Savian told him. “None of us saw the screen test.”
“So what are you saying?” he asked.
“I’m asking you, as your brother and business partner, are you sleeping with her?”
“No,” Parker replied vehemently. “I’m not.”
“Good,” Savian said, releasing a heavy sigh.
“But if I was it would be nobody’s damn business!” Parker’s hands came unfolded at that moment and he sat forward in his chair, leaning on his desk. “I don’t answer to Giovanni Morelli, his ass answers to me! And if he has a problem with Adriana’s performance I expect him to bring it to my office and not start a campaign against her behind my back.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Savian told him. “I shut him down quick enough, telling him that the ratings speak louder than his concerns. But I wanted to know if you had heard of any problems or if there was something we needed to address.”
“Since when do we need to address who I am or am not sleeping with?”
“Since she’s the headliner of our most successful show,” Savian countered. “Look, man, you know I don’t get into your personal life because I enjoy the fact that you’re one of the few family members that knows to stay the hell out of mine. But when it effects this station, and/or ou
r family, then its open season. So if you’re thinking about…let me finish,” he said when Parker was about to interrupt. “If you’re thinking about doing a ‘Parker Donovan’ on this girl, let me be the first to warn you to think again. For one, her father is pretty powerful in his own right. Hell, her mother’s a princess for goodness sake. She has two brothers—that I’m not saying the Donovans can’t go up against and win—but why get into a mess like that? Why feed fuel to the fire of African American businesses not being able to cut it, with fighting amongst us? Not to mention the fact that dad would be ready to kick your ass if you hurt a female, especially this one.”
That last statement didn’t even need to be made. Parker knew very well how his father felt about respecting women and treating them like queens. He’d said it over and over as they were growing up, showing them by the way he cherished and adored their mother. And while Parker had never been shy when it came to women, respect and honesty always came before a quick lay or easy conquest. Savian’s reference to a ‘Parker Donovan’ revolved solely around his carefree attitude towards committing to a woman—not his disrespect in any way—since his divorce.
“I’m not going to hurt her,” Parker said solemnly.
He did not elaborate on that statement even though he knew Savian suspected there was more where Adriana was concerned. As for Parker, he was almost certain there was more there as well. He just wasn’t ready to vocalize that yet.
“Good,” Savian replied sitting back in his chair. “On another note, dad called to make sure the Mother’s Day celebration was on all of our calendars.”
With an inward sigh, Parker readily accepted the change of subject. In fact, he was grateful to the more comfortable line of conversation. “And he told you to confirm that Regan and I will be there?”
Savian did smile this time. “Not my fault I’m the responsible one.”
“You mean you’re the one with no social life so you’d never miss a family dinner or celebration,” Parker replied with a smile of his own.