Jaime’s assistant handed her the script. All she had to was bite into a donut and react. The box of fresh donuts was sitting on the credenza. We’d replenished them throughout the day.
Upon hearing her directions, the aspiring actress, whose name was Crystal, made a face.
“What!? I can’t eat one of these! I’m gluten-free!” She stormed out of the conference room to my relief. It spared me from having her kiss me, which was the second part of the audition. In fact, none of the girls had made it that far. Thank God, because it would have pained me to have my Olive watch other women kissing me even if they didn’t mean it. The only pair of lips I wanted on my lips, make that anywhere on my body, were hers.
“Fuck,” shouted Jaime, banging his fist on the table. “We’re out of luck. We’re going to have to set up a whole other casting session on Monday. This may really screw us. With the tight timeline we’re on, we may miss the Super Bowl.”
I met Jaime’s eyes, mine fierce with determination. “There’s one more person I’d like to try out for the role of The Big O Girl.” I paused. “My assistant, Olive.”
“What!?” shrieked Mallory, leaping to her feet. “That girl’s a nobody.”
If I had it my way, she was about to be a somebody. And something in my gut told me, she would be.
I told Clint to sit down and shut up. Reluctantly, she did as I asked though smoke was coming out of her ears. I shot my shocked Olive an encouraging smile.
“Princess, give it a try.”
My heart did a somersault as I jolted in my chair. Did I hear that right? Owen King, The Donut King, wanted me to audition for the commercial? Jaime Zander confirmed it.
“Sure, Owen. Let’s give her a shot. At this point, we have nothing to lose.”
Owen met my shocked gaze. “Olive, please, don’t keep Jaime and his team waiting. It’s been a long day and I’m sure they all want to get out of here.” He turned to Jaime’s assistant. “Can you please give Olive a script?”
“It’s okay,” I stammered. “I know what to say and do by heart.”
With Mallory’s malicious eyes on me, I slowly rose from my seat. I ambled over to the giant box of donuts on the credenza. There were slim pickings, but any one of them would do. After I mentally debated which one to choose, I picked my favorite—the cream-filled one.
“Relax, Olive,” instructed Jaime. “All you have to do is bite into the donut and react according to the script. Just be sure to look into the camera.”
With the donut in my hand, I turned so that I was facing the corner of the room, where a production assistant was operating a small camera on a tripod. He had been videotaping all the auditions so that both Owen and Jaime could play them back and review them. I was going to be the last one at least for today.
Inhaling through my nose, I took a deep breath to fortify myself. I remembered what my acting teacher had told me. To draw from experience. For example, if the script called for tears, then to think of the death of a loved one. I took one more calming breath. Okay, Olive. You’re ready for your close-up. You can do this.
Slowly, I put the donut to my lips and then sank my teeth into it. Oh. My. God. The custard-filled donut was every bit as good as I remembered. Every time I ate one, it was always the same reaction. I felt like I’d gone to the moon and back. Savoring the sweet gooey deliciousness, the scripted words poured out of my mouth.
“Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!” I screamed out, saying the word louder each time. Jaime and Owen were both looking for someone to have an orgasmic experience. Before yesterday, I didn’t even know what an orgasm felt like, let alone the Big O, which I’d read about in romance novels. I didn’t even think they actually existed, but now I knew better. As I swallowed, all the memories of making orgasmic love with my king danced in my head. His fullness filling me, taking me to the edge. My ovaries imploding. My temperature soared as I squeezed my eyes shut. I swear I was more than having a mental orgasm. A tidal wave of pleasure crescendoed inside me, rolling through my core, as I shouted out a deafening, “OHHHHH!” that seemed to go on forever.
“Cut!” shouted out a male voice and then loud applause sounded in my ears.
I blinked my eyes open. If I wasn’t already flushed, I was now definitely as red as jelly. Everyone in the room was on their feet, applauding me with a standing ovation. Well, everyone except Mallory, who was foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog.
“That was absolutely brilliant,” beamed Jaime. “Owen, I have to hand it to you. Your instinct was spot-on.”
While I stood there motionless and stunned, not sure what had just happened, Owen winked at me.
“Jaime, before we cast her as The Big O Girl, I’d like to be sure she can handle kissing me. Should we give it a?”
“I don’t think we have to, but sure, why not?”
While I was still orbiting in outer space, Jaime informed me that all I had to do was give Owen a kiss right after he said his line. Owen wasted no time joining me and together we faced the camera.
“On my count of three,” called out the cameraman. “One…two…three.” He gave Owen a finger signal to begin.
“I’m The Donut King. Let me put the big ‘O’ in donuts.”
On cue, I stood up on my tippy toes to give Owen a kiss on the cheek just as the script called for, but to my utter surprise, he swept me into his arm, dipped me, and then leaned down to give me one of those swoon-worthy kisses you only see in movies. Stars flashed in my head as his lips consumed mine with wild passion and longing. I thought I might faint, but he broke the kiss just in time. Once again there was a bells and whistles standing ovation. Owen helped me regain my balance, but I was still shaky. While I was all heated up, Owen didn’t seem the least bit flustered.
“What do you think, Jaime?” he asked, adjusting his tie.
Jaime laughed. “I’d say you overacted, but Olive was perfect. I think we’ve found our Big O Girl.”
My eyes shifted to Mallory. She was stewing.
“Great,” said Owen. “What’s the next step?”
“I’ll have my business affairs people draw up a contract. Olive, do you have a lawyer or agent we can send it to?”
“Um…uh…”
Owen came to my rescue. “Just send it to me. I’ll take care of it.”
“Terrific. It’ll be your basic standard talent deal based on AFTRA royalty rates. And, of course, we’ll need Olive to get Taft-Hartleyed if she isn’t already a member since we’re a union shop.”
“Of course.” I nodded, not knowing a thing about AFTRA. This was all so unreal. Yesterday I was a starving actress and today I was going to star in a TV commercial. And I had to join a union and sign contracts. Oh my!
Full of enthusiasm, Jaime filled us in more about the timeline of the commercial. He was eager to shoot it. Over the next twenty-four hours, his team would look for a location or a soundstage where they could build a mock Donut King shop, hire extras as well as put together a crew. In post, he wanted to communicate the nutritional benefits of “DK” donuts—that they were made with 100% natural ingredients and contained no trans fats. Owen was impressed that Jaime had done his homework.
“Actually, Olive sent me all this information yesterday after our meeting along with the history of your company. The fact that you inherited your parents’ mom and pop shop and turned it into an empire blew me away.”
Owen’s brows lifted. I hadn’t told him that I’d taken it upon myself to make sure Jaime knew everything there was to know about Owen’s company. A dazzling smile curled on his lips. Oh those lips!
“I have a very talented assistant. I plan to keep her around for a long time,” he replied as Mallory once again sent eye daggers my way. My gaze stayed on her as she jumped up and huffed.
“Well, just for the record, I think the choices that are being made today are the kiss of death. Every woman in the world wants to be thin. No one is going to want to buy donuts from some plus-size nobody who doesn’t even have a college educa—”
Jaime cut her off. “Actually, Ms. Clit—”
“CLINT!”
“My wife Gloria did some quantitative research and discovered that not only do men prefer curvy women, but the average woman in America wears a size 14. She furthermore noticed a trend among bestselling romance novels to feature big, beautiful women. Big, beautiful women want to feel like they can land Prince Charming just like their thin counterparts. That’s why she’s created a sexy line of lingerie targeted to plus-size women. It’s selling like hotcakes.”
“Whatever,” retorted Mallory. “I have a Harvard MBA and I know I’m right. I might as well be looking for a new job.”
“Maybe you should start now,” Owen said coolly. “I’ll give you a glowing recommendation.”
Mallory scoffed at him as Jaime looked my way. “You know, Olive, I should introduce you to my wife. You’d be a great catalogue model for her new plus-size line and you could even walk the runway in her upcoming Gloria’s Secret fashion show that’s taking—”
His face hardening, Owen stopped him. “Jaime, I want Olive to be exclusive to me. I hope you understand. It’s a deal breaker if she’s not. Olive belongs to me.”
“No problem, man. I totally understand. My wife Gloria is mine. I’d kill the man who got near her.”
It quickly became obvious to me that Jaime Zander knew I was more than Owen’s assistant. And he was beyond my boss.
He was my lover. My savior. My dream maker. My hero.
The man who I hoped to spend the rest of my life with. I loved him with all I had.
Owen was about to end the meeting when Mallory got in her last two cents.
“Owen, while your new assistant was ‘busy’ gathering information yesterday, I was doing my own information gathering. My research findings may dissuade you from going the direction you’re going.”
Owen arched a brow. Mallory shot me a smirk and then focused her gaze back on her boss.
“There’s something I think you and Jaime should know…”
A giant knot formed in my stomach as my pulse pounded in my ears.
“It seems that your new assistant is a…”
Leaping to my feet, I fled the room before she could say the word.
I was going to be sick.
I got down on my knees and folded my head over the toilet. A cold sweat bathed me as everything that was in my stomach or on its way, including my custard donut, found its way into the basin. I puked till I could puke no more. Tears streaming, I flushed and then rose to my feet still feeling sick and unsteady. The sweet taste in my mouth from the sugary donut and Owen’s kiss was replaced by a foul one. My throat raw, I slumped to the bank of sinks to wash up, cleanse my mouth, and splash a little cold water on my face.
Rising, I took a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked ghastly. My eyes were glazed over, and my complexion was the color of puce. I thought I’d left my past behind in Barstow, but it had followed me here. With the advent of the Internet, bygones, even the smallest town news, could never truly disappear if one dug deep. Mallory, the ultimate researcher, had dug deep. She wanted to destroy me. My future here at Donut King was over. There was no way Owen or Jaime would ever want me to be The Big O Girl. I couldn’t even fathom remaining Owen’s assistant with what he now knew. How could he want a girl like me? My hand flew to my aching heart at the realization that my twenty-four hour fairy tale was over before I even got to turn a page. I braced myself to say goodbye to the man I loved and to everything I was leaving behind.
Sobbing, I bent over again to splash some more water on my face. When I looked up, another face met mine in the mirror. Clint! That same smug smirk she wore as she was about to expose my secret clashed with my gaze. She snorted.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the former Big O Girl. Guess you’ll be needing a new job. I don’t even know what possessed Owen to hire you in the first place. When I left the meeting, he was finally coming to his senses. Thank goodness, he had the smarts to hire me and save him all the public humiliation the company would face when your past came out in the open. Can you imagine the big fat scandal?”
I tried to swallow my anguish—all the hurt—past the giant lump in my throat, but I couldn’t. Another giant wave of nausea was rising in my chest. I pivoted on my heel to escape the bathroom, but as I did, a rush of vomit flew out of my mouth with such force it exploded all over Mallory. She was covered in it. All the revolting little bits and pieces. A piercing shriek spilled out of her gaping mouth.
“Oh my God! You’ve ruined my new suit. You fucking fat bitch!” Her face contorted with disgust and disdain as I ran out of the bathroom without apologizing…
Right into the powerful arms of Owen King.
“Olive,” I said softly, holding her in my arms.
“Please, Owen, let me go,” she sobbed out, tears pouring down her face. She looked totally distraught, her face a Technicolor patchwork of ghoulish hues, her hair damp and matted. “I should have told you about my past.”
I moved my hands to her heaving shoulders, gripping them firmly. “Jesus, my princess. We’ve known each other for a little more than twenty-four hours. How could you tell me everything?”
“I should have told you,” she repeated, her voice a mere rasp. “Please accept my apology and resignation. Thank you for all you’ve done for me. I’ll always remember you. Always.” Her pale lips quivered.
“What are you talking about, Olive?”
“I’m not good enough for you, Owen. You deserve better. I’m leaving.”
My lips pinched as I held her fiercely in my gaze. “You’re not going anywhere, Olive Cumming, except coming home with me.”
“Please, Owen. I can’t.”
As Olive jerked her tear-soaked faced away from me, the door to the ladies’ room swung open. Clint marched out. Fucking Clint. What had she told my sweetheart? Whatever it was, it wasn’t good. She had made her sick.
“It’s over, Owen. I’m saying goodbye,” sniffled an oblivious Olive as Clint stood by us. Her very presence stunk up the air.
As Olive’s words stumbled out of her mouth, a smug smile slithered across Clint’s cobra-thin lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Owen. I’ve already told Human Resources to contact our job recruiter to start a search for your new secretary.”
My eyes clashed with Clint’s. Obviously, she’d missed my earlier words. There was no need for a search. Olive was going nowhere if I had it my way and I would.
“Nice work, Clint,” I retorted, my voice filled with fury. I couldn’t wait to see the smug smile fall off her face tomorrow when she saw Olive seated outside my office. And hear her hiss.
Then, on my next breath, Olive fled.
A rare summer storm had erupted in LA. The pellets of rain pounded me. The cold droplets mingled with the hot tear drops that were still storming down my face. A car whizzed by me, sending a spray of water all over my already soaked body. I felt like a drowned rat. My unyielding sobs sounded in my ears as I ran down the deserted street of the industrial wasteland that surrounded me. Unfamiliar with the area, blinded by my tears, and my mind in turmoil, I didn’t know where I was going. I just knew I had to let go of Owen King and never look back. My past had caught up with me and my future eluded me. The rain coming down harder, I ran faster until all I could think about was propelling myself ahead. Leaving behind the only real happiness I’d ever known in my life.
A loud horn honked in my ears, but I didn’t let it stop me. The car honked at me three more times. Not turning my head, I kept running and running across the slippery concrete.
“Get in the car!” a too familiar voice shouted out, loud enough to be heard above the pounding rain.
“No! Go away!” I yelled back, panting out each word.
“Please, Olive. Get in the damn car!” he barked back. I took a quick sideways glance and saw the massive vehicle, with the passenger window down, trailing along beside me. No, I couldn’t outrun it, but I wasn’t going to slow down. Or d
o as he asked.
“Jesus, Olive. You’re going to be the death of me.”
On my next desperate breath, the car came to halt, and I heard a door click open. Without slowing my pace, I jet-propelled myself forward, but the heavy footsteps behind me were gaining ground. My lungs were burning as were my thighs. Without warning, a heel caught in a sidewalk crack, and my heart lurched in my chest at that horrible, inevitable sensation that I was about to take a fall. As I tumbled forward, two strong arms caught me and steadied me on my feet. Still gripping me, he flipped me around. I looked up, his face dripping wet, his glistening ebony hair falling onto his forehead, a few slick strands obscuring one eye. Not wearing his jacket, his soaked white shirt clung to him like a second skin, and I could see every finely honed muscle of his hulking form through the transparent fabric. I both marveled and ached at his virile perfection, his long soaked lashes framing his blue eyes like crowns of thorns. Oh, the sight of him! My beautiful Donut King! My legs weak and chilled to the bone, I trembled in his arms. He held me tighter.
“Christ, princess. You almost killed yourself.”
“Please, Owen,” I rasped. “Let go of me.”
“I’m never letting go of you.” As the relentless rain fell upon us like a spray of bullets, he moved his large hands to my wet face, cradling it as his lips descended on mine. As our lips melded, the heat of his breath permeated every cell of my body. My tears salted his cheeks as the rain washed them away. Despite my chill, I melted into him, unable to resist.
Before I knew it, I was in his car, buckled in, his big jacket draped over my shoulders, warming me as my teeth chattered. He turned on the heat, the hot gust coming at me through the vents, and even beneath me, the soft leather chair heated up. Owen focused on the road, and only once did I steal a glimpse of his intense profile, deep in thought and concentration. Before he could catch my eyes on him, I turned away and glared at the sea of headlights ahead of me as the windshield wipers worked furiously to sweep away the endless rivulets streaking the glass pane. We were steeped in silence, only the sound of the pounding rain on the roof of the SUV pulsing through my ears.
The Big O (An OTT Insta-love STANDALONE) Page 10