Blaze forgot his lines again.
And again.
Collectively we all cringed on his behalf as Mubarak stormed toward him and went on a tirade. All those rumors of the kind of bad ass this director was seemed to be true, judging by the stark evidence before us. His vitriolic attack on Blaze was so severe a few of the crew walked off.
Andrea approached them to defend Blaze.
Mubarak turned on her.
It was ugly, a dark monologue on how the budget prevented him hiring real talent and their inability to fully invest themselves. From what little acting I’d seen, none of it rang true.
I stepped forward ready to defend her and was gently restrained by Megan.
Ethan grabbed my other arm. “You’ll make it worse.”
“You’re going to just stand by and let him talk to her like this?” I said.
“He talks to everyone like this,” explained Megan.
“I’m not just going to stand here—”
“Do you really want to fuck everything up for her?” she snapped.
I glanced around at the staff and they broke my gaze, possibly worn down from days of enduring Mubarak’s tantrums, or just trying to get through this without getting fired.
“I need some air.” I walked away and headed into a dark corner, glancing back to make sure Megan hadn’t followed.
I turned my phone back on and speed-dialed Isaac Loftin.
His gruff voice answered. “Yes?”
“It’s Richard,” I said softly. “Did I wake you?”
“It’s fine,” he replied sleepily.
“Are you on the boat?”
“No, UCLA.”
“Taking a nap in your office?”
“Was trying too. I’m lecturing in ten minutes to a bunch of undergrads who habitually text during my lectures. Trying to shed my grumpiness before I tackle the bastards. What’s up?”
“You were going to email me the footage?”
“Could have sworn I did.” I heard the sound of his laptop firing up. “I’ve labeled it top secret Booth project.”
“I appreciate that.”
“You might not want Andrea to see it. It’s pretty shocking.”
“In what way?”
He chuckled. “You kids were out of control.”
“Chance of a lifetime.”
“Maybe I’ll show it to my students.”
“Sure, whatever you want.”
“Boy, do you have stamina.”
“I like to think so.”
“Just so you know we didn’t leak the news you were both aboard the Score Settled. Maybe someone saw you together at the harbor? Still, Entertainment Tonight doesn’t seem to know who her mystery guy is yet.”
“Yet.”
“Okay, well the file should reach you soon.”
“Stay safe.”
“Always, come visit us again soon. Don’t leave it so long this time.”
“I promise. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do, Richard.”
He hung up.
The file began its download.
CHAPTER 23
“GET THE FUCK off my set,” snapped Mubarak.
Blaze stared him down.
The escalation of tension had reached new heights. Ethan was pacing and Megan was snapping at him.
“Where did you go?” Megan glared my way.
Ethan gave me a wary glance and he looked so conflicted, probably considering saying something, but, like everyone else, he feared making things worse.
“Maybe this is Mubarak’s method?” I gave a casual shrug. “You know, his way to get the actors to dig deep.”
“Shut the fuck up,” hissed Megan.
From what I could tell Andrea was holding her own.
“I don’t even know why you’re here,” seethed Megan.
I gave a polite smile, using this opportunity to prove she had no power over me. My focus returned to Andrea.
She stood before Mubarak, her arms folded across her chest, her stance confident.
“Please don’t speak to me like this,” she told him.
“It’s my set, Ms. Buckingham,” he replied sternly.
She gestured to the crew. “Our set too, sir. We’re just as passionate at turning out a fine film.”
“And yet your co-star can’t remember his lines?”
“Well, if you didn’t sit there in your director’s chair sending daggers our way,” she said, “it would be easier to focus.”
“How dare you?”
“I’m merely explaining—”
“Do you like being on this film?”
“Of course. I’ve dedicated my life to living and breathing this part. I’ve immersed myself in this role.”
“You’re going to have to do better than that, Ms. Buckingham.”
She pressed her hand to her chest. “I am Rose.”
“Rose is brave, she’s an inspiration—”
“I’m brave.”
“This town is full of actresses ready for an opportunity like this.”
“You can’t fire me. We’ve started filming.”
“I sent you away to find that fierceness, that life force. I needed you to prove you’re capable of risking everything.”
“I faced off with an eighteen foot shark for this!”
“Knowing you, Ms. Buckingham, it was probably a dolphin.”
Silence.
The entire crew’s attention focused on the enormous back screen digital projection. The New York vista had been replaced by the vastness of an underwater seascape.
Rippling reflected shards of light flooded the stage, that laser image now a murky blueness; an endless ocean - the muffled sound of bubbles and swirling sea water.
The stunning visual of two divers floating in a glass cage.
Hushed whispers from the startled crew, murmurs of confusion.
The shark’s vastness rising from the deep and tracing through the water as the enormous fish approached the glass cage, her tale fast propelling all eighteen feet of her. A flick of her tale, that movement decisive, her gaping jaw wide, those serrated teeth exploring the glass.
Floating in the hazy space was Andrea, seemingly calm from the camera’s vantage point, her arms wrapped around me in a hug and then breaking away in a moment of bravery, turning to watch Joy swim by again.
To some, we were brilliant explorers of the deep. To others, we were clearly out of our fucking minds.
“What is that?” whispered Megan.
“A Sunday afternoon,” I murmured.
I strolled across the stage toward Jack Mubarak.
Shoulder to shoulder with him, I looked up at the screen. “It was damn cold at that depth. Joy Feast made you forget about that.”
“Joy Feast?” said Andrea. “You told me her name was Joy?”
I grinned mischievously.
Mubarak stared up at the scene. “Andrea?” His intense hazel gaze locked on that impressive shark.
The visual detailed effect was so stunning this entire vast stage could have been underwater.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” I smiled at Andrea. “Joy’s thirty years old.”
“The Ordovician period,” muttered Mubarak.
I gave a nod. “Sharks have ruled the ocean for over 450 million years. You can see why.”
“When?” he whispered.
“A week ago.” I tucked my hands into my pockets. “Joy’s jaw could have crushed that cage if she’d wanted too.”
Andrea shot me a look and I shrugged.
“Andrea is your Rose, Mr. Mubarak.” I pointed up. “She’s brave. Daring. Honorable.”
He stepped toward Andrea and cupped her face with his hands, staring right into her eyes. “Bring me that woman. Up there. Show me her.”
Andrea’s eyes watered and she gave a nod.
Mubarak stepped back and turned to the crew. “Can we get New York back up please?”
“Lights up,” a crew member called out.
Andrea threw a smile my way.
I stepped back into the shadows.
“Andrea,” said Mubarak, lowering his eyes at her. “Give me shark girl.”
She gave a confident salute.
The filming resumed, the scene playing out again.
Stillness descended and the tension was no longer on what had unfolded but the seconds and minutes that followed, the heartfelt monologue that Blaze brought to the scene, the way his lips trembled in reaction to Andrea’s outburst, the profoundness of love, and how one decision could bring a relationship to its knees.
Filming cycled through re-setting, makeup re-touches, and the playful banter between Andrea and Mubarak.
Andrea’s giggled when her co-star shared a joke.
“This is where I leave,” said Ethan, flashing a knowing glance my way. “It’s the collaring scene.”
My focus snapped back to the set. Andrea was leaning over Blaze’s knee as they rehearsed what looked like a spanking. The young actor slid Andrea’s hem up, hitching it above her thighs and his hand came down hard on her butt. Blaze looked over at the director’s chair for Mubarak’s approval.
A nod gave it and Blaze delivered several hard spanks; Andrea’s moans echoed.
My feet were riveted to the ground as jealousy surged through me. My submissive was being touched by another man and his technique was not nearly as refined. Yet I’d allowed Cameron to train Mia.
She’d needed saving, needed gentle handling.
It was the uniqueness of a master and submissive relationship; I knew her body, predicted her needs, anticipated her desires. It was an intimacy unlike any other.
“Again please,” Mubarak called over. “Let’s film this one.”
Megan nudged up against me. “Now would be a good time to leave, Mr. Sheppard.”
“I go by Booth now.”
“I don’t really care what you call yourself. It’s time to leave.”
“I’d like to let Andrea know—”
“No, no, that won’t be necessary.”
I gazed at the TV monitor before us with Andrea’s smiling face looking into the frame, a flash of happiness, her confidence shining.
Mission accomplished, I mused darkly.
“We’ll release a statement,” Megan whispered. “A spin on how Andrea’s number one stalker had to be removed by security.”
Bitch rested on my tongue but I resisted letting the word loose.
I chose my footing carefully, avoiding tripping on a wire or cable and further humiliating myself.
With a shove the heavy door gave way and I stepped through the outer door in a daze and burst into sunlight, shielding my eyes from the glare until I could get my sunglasses back on.
Emma threw me a wave.
Within minutes I was sitting in the back of the town car, gulping Perrier water and trying to forget the grungy way Megan made me feel. “Santa Monica airport, please, Emma.”
She glanced in the rearview. “Are you going out of town, sir?”
“No, it’s the pick-up for a skydive.”
She held my stare. “Can I get you anything?”
“A way to change history,” I muttered, and pulled out my phone, replaying that underwater footage and smiling at the madness of it.
Had the crew seen the shark attack the buoys, which happened minutes later, they’d have questioned my sanity.
That glass cage was a metaphor for my life.
The only way to free myself from those hounds of hell wanting their money back from my family was to give it to them. All I needed to do was reach inside my bank account and transfer the money back to them.
All fifty million.
I was destined to hide for the rest of my life.
Emma navigated us off the lot and we passed a crowd on the left, some of them holding up banners with Andrea’s face on it and all of them seemingly hoping to catch a glimpse of their favorite star.
I’d been a class-A idiot to think there’d be any likelihood of us extending our friendship beyond what had been initially agreed upon. I was no different than all those fans on the sidewalk.
Fucking embarrassing.
Even with her hinting this was something she wanted to explore, I could never risk that kind of exposure. My father’s legacy was front and center.
My past a death sentence to happiness.
I’d wanted to storm across that set and rescue Andrea, carry her back to her trailer and save her from all that superficiality, those false friends that weren’t going to be there if her career went south.
Her strength inspired me to find mine.
I let out a long sigh of gratitude that I’d had this brief time with her. I cherished the feelings it bought.
“Sir?” said Emma. “May I put him through?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“The call, sir. It’s Dr. Cole on the line.”
“Sure.” I lifted my phone to my ear. “Cameron? Are you there?”
The line was quiet and I cursed, thinking I’d missed him. “Cam?”
“Where are you?” he said.
“Driving. Needed to clear my head.”
“Skydiving?”
“On my way to the pick-up now.”
“Be careful.”
“Always. You need to join me. Though it sounds like you’ve got your own adrenaline junkie moves going on.”
“That trick you pulled on my shares.”
“When I tripled them?”
“I need you to do it again.”
Seriously, Cameron was starting to sound like me. The man was on tilt and taking risks.
He whispered, “Quadruple it.”
Silence wedged between us and something told me he was second guessing himself. I gave him the time to think this through and change his mind. Return to the kind of rationality he knew so well.
“Cameron?” I could swear I could hear him thinking, those brilliant cogs turning.
“Richard,” he said. “Do your thing.”
I shifted in my seat. “Maybe you need a more experienced broker?”
“You’re the best there is.”
“I don’t know, Cam.”
“No regrets.”
“Promise.”
“Of course.”
We drove by a homeless man there on the sidewalk and I wondered what kind of regrets he carried, what things in life he’d choose to do differently if given the chance.
Turn back time.
Get her back.
Start over.
“Richard, are you there?”
“As soon as I get home I’ll get on it.”
He didn’t need to know I had a driver.
“Pull over and buy from your phone,” he insisted.
“I’m not sure. I don’t like the sound of this, Cole. You seem a little…”
“Make this happen.”
“You’re really putting this kind of pressure on me?”
“I’m carrying this, Richard.”
“Don’t blame me if this goes tits up.”
“If you pull this off—”
“It’s impossible. You do realize that?”
“What one man can do another can do.”
I think I might have told him that once. Or did he tell me? “What do I get out of it?” I said with a smirk.
“Other than the generous commission?”
“Yeah?”
“Name it. Anything.”
“For reals, player?”
“You have my word,” he said brightly.
His faith in me and what I could pull off was always a boon to my rattled self-esteem.
“Mia,” I said. “I want her back. If I pull this off, she’s mine.”
I waited for him to tell me where to go. A Cameron comeback to shut me down.
Silence served as his reply.
I gave a shrug. “There’s this shiny new stock coming out of Silicon Valley. An Asian company called Destiny-Hori
zon. It’s skyrocketing. Want me to go for it?” I grinned at my mischief. “So we have a deal, Cameron?”
Staring at my phone, I realized the call had dropped.
Or maybe he’d hung up.
I didn’t want Mia back, not really. Her fragility, her sweetness, felt like holding fine glass in my hands. Shards that threatened to slice into me and leave me bleeding.
Andrea Buckingham, however, was like holding a wild cat in my arms, one that taming could never destroy. The kind of woman no man could break. No matter how hard he pushed her. Or fucked her, for that matter.
A submissive of the highest order.
The appeal of how my life could have gone. The tease of happiness.
This life-changing daydream had ended.
CHAPTER 24
I’D PULLED OFF the impossible.
Staring at Cameron’s computer screen I scanned the numbers. His stock had reached a net worth of twelve billion.
At my hands no less.
I rose out of this trance and blinked to better take in the data.
I’d placed him squarely in the running to be able to purchase over 90% of Cole Tea shares.
But we’d have to act fast.
Those shares were chum in the water for greedy bastards on the prowl for flailing stock. If we bought them all now I’d make Cole the owner and CEO of the company.
I knew well enough not to assume this was the plan.
This change of fate would mean a drastic difference to Cameron’s life, but the business he was trying so hard to save would finally have a chance. His family legacy was hanging in the balance.
I refreshed my screen.
I’d spent the day working on his finances, munching on cookies that Pilar brought in, though so focused I’d only been half aware she was in the room when she delivered them, my coffee mug always topped off and piping hot.
This coffee haze raced through my veins like wildfire.
I pushed myself back from the desk and let out a crazed laugh.
Winston was busy exploring Cameron’s office and now and again he glanced up at me as though asking, “Where the hell am I?”
“Feel the same way, buddy,” I said. “Cole’s trying to save an empire and we’re in the trenches with him doing our bit.”
Cameron had been gone for well over a week and I couldn’t remember the last time we’d spent such time apart.
I went back to check on the current state of Cole Tea and Tempest Coffee shares and winced. The numbers were bombing. His dad would be devastated.
Richard's Reign (Book 6): Enthrall Novella #3 (Enthrall Sessions) Page 16