As For walks away, my attention is drawn back to Orlando, who pulls my eye the minute he strides into the room. He commands everyone else's attention, too, simply by his presence, and the crew seems to be working a little faster, somehow managing to appear even more focused on their tasks than they were a moment ago.Orlando's gaze sweeps through the room, across the cameras and crew, over the actors already seated, past Ford walking briskly to his chair at the head of the table. He's not smiling, but he seems satisfied with what he sees in the room. When he spots me, he starts in my direction, but he's only gone a few steps before a hand pulls at my elbow."You're in the way," Karen tells me. "Get behind the cameras until your entrance." She tugs me aside as Orlando strides past. His eyes flick in my direction, and I swear I see a glimmer of merriment there. Just a glimmer, and then he's back to looking as serious as before.I don't know why people think he never laughs, I think as
Orlando asks Ford again, "Do I make myself clear?"Ford swallows, the blood draining from his face. "Perfectly." He doesn't sound as sure as he usually does, but his voice is mostly steady."Good," Orlando responds. "I won't tolerate a bad attitude on my set. Not from you or from anyone." His tone makes it clear that the conversation is over, and he turns and strides back to his chair without waiting for a response from Ford. When he reaches his seat, he gestures toward the makeup assistant. "Powder his nose. Then we're going to run it all again."The tension in the room doesn't automatically disappear at those words, but it least everyone collectively begins breathing again.I remain pressed against the wall, trying to stay as out of the way as possible. Something just happened here. Something important. It started in the elevator - or maybe before that, when I wasn't here - but Orlando has tried to end it, one way or the other.It's a relief to everyone in the room, I suspect, w
I'm so determined to escape Ford that I'm not paying attention to where I'm going. Only a dozen steps into the building lobby, I run smack into another person so hard that I literally almost bounce off him. If it weren't for the pair of strong hands that grab me, I'd be flat on my ass on the ground."Easy, there," Orlando says, his hands steadying me. "What are you running from so fast?"I look up into his wild, ever-intriguing eyes."It's nothing," I say quickly. "Just the rain." I notice suddenly that I grabbed his shirt as I was trying to regain my balance, and I'm still clinging to him like some sort of lovesick hussy. I unclasp my fingers, but the way he's gripping me still leaves me pressed against his body.He glances over my shoulder, back the way I've come. He frowns, and something that looks like anger flickers in his eyes. His fingers tighten on my upper arms.I glance over my shoulder just in time to see Ford turn and walk the other way. His white-toothed smile is gone
The moment I feel Ford's fingers on me, I jerk away. But he must have been anticipating that. As I twist away from him, his other hand comes up and grabs my wrist. Before I can even swing around and jab my keys at him, he's pressed me up against my car. My back is against one of the doors, the handle digging into my spine. And my fist with my keys is crushed between us."What the fuck are you doing?" I demand, but my voice shakes. "Let me go!""I'm trying to have a conversation with you," he replies, and the calmness in his voice terrifies me even more than all the rest. "And you keep running away.""Let me go. You're scaring me.""Good. Some women need to be scared." His voice is still chillingly calm. "I've been very kind to you, Maggie. I'm only trying to help you. Is this how you show gratitude?"Since I can't free my hand with the keys, I'm forced to resort to other options. I lift my leg and then ram my heel down on his foot as hard as I can.Even in the near-darkness, I ca
Orlando leads me across the parking lot, and when I stumble - only because I'm not used to wearing heels all day - he immediately reaches out an arm and supports me. I almost pull away from him, but honestly, I want the support. His arm is comforting.Part of me wants to ask him what's going to happen to Ford - Is he seriously fired? Is his part going to have to be recast and all his scenes reshot? - but I also don't really feel like talking about the incident anymore. Thankfully, Orlando doesn't say anything else about it. He just silently leads me across the parking lot, his arm a warm, reassuring presence against my back. My skin feels hot and prickly, and my heart feels like it's pulsing a hundred beats a second.There are only a handful of other cars still here, and he guides me to a very expensive-looking silver sportscar. Without a word, he opens the door and helps me into the passenger's side.I'm in Orlando Fontaine's car, I think, looking around in amazement. The dashboard
"Did you study Shakespeare, then?" I ask Orlando, longing to hear more."I took a couple courses about his work back during film school," he says. "But most of my love for him comes from my father. He's a huge theater buff. He was taking me to see plays by Shakespeare and Beckett and some of the other greats by the time I was seven years old." His mouth curls up slightly. "He did it with all of us kids, but it really stuck with me. And Dante - a little anyway. We still go to the theater together a few times a year - my father really likes all the high-brow stuff. Sometimes he even convinces my mother to come along."I grin. His answer has brought up a dozen more questions, but before I get the chance to utter them, he speaks again."What about you, then?" he asks. "If you don't want to act, then what do you want to do? What did you study?""I didn't study anything exciting," I tell him. "I finished up my master's in visual marketing last year, and right now I'm willing to take any
The following morning, at approximately five o'clock, someone calls to inform me that filming for the day has been canceled. And that, for my convenience, my car has been towed - at the production company's expense - to a spot just outside Justin's building. I'm told that I'll be contacted with the new schedule by tomorrow, and honestly, I'm relieved to have an extra couple of days of rest and recovery without having to deal with my car, the movie, or any of the complicated emotions the last twenty-four hours have brought up. Besides, Justin and I promised to go see Dad today.We arrive at the hospital together late in the afternoon. Like everyone else, I hate hospitals. But I love seeing my dad, even if he's only a shadow of the man he once was. There's still plenty of spark left in him. And I like being able to cheer up Mom, too.Justin and I don't really talk to each other as we head to Dad's room. We've made this visit together a dozen times before, and we ran out of comforting t
"I return Fiona's almost-smile, feeling that odd combination of sick and excited again. Fiona won't be any more explicit than she already has been, but she's given me the answer as best she can."Thank you," I tell her. Then quickly add, "For watching after my dad, of course.""Just doing my job." She's already bent her head over the computer again. I turn and head back toward Dad's room.So my suspicions were right. I don't know how I feel about that - my emotions are too jumbled to make much sense. I still don't really understand why Orlando would do something this huge for me, even if he feels guilty about what happened last night.I try not to let it disrupt my afternoon with my parents. They look so happy and relieved that I don't want to spoil the mood with my confused feelings. My dad looks better than he has in a long time, and I'd do anything to keep that spark in his eyes, even accept charity from Orlando Fontaine.Justin and I hang out for a few hours, talking about our
Sometimes small choices can have a huge impact on your life.Now, almost a year after I first set foot on the set of Death and Deadly Night, I'm standing with Orlando on the red carpet at the premiere. I'm wearing the most beautiful dress I've ever seen, a shimmery gown with dark silver accents, and my hair has been styled into cascading waves that hang down over my shoulder. I have no idea what I'm doing - there are so many lights, so many people shouting - but as long as Orlando's arm is around my waist, I don't care. I can face anything.Orlando is nervous. He doesn't show it, not on the surface, but I've learned to read him quite well. He doesn't have any reason to worry, though. Death and Deadly Night is brilliant. Some might even call it a masterpiece. I have complete faith that the critics and the rest of the world will finally see Orlando for the genius he is, and he can finally move out of the shadow of his family.Not that I don't love his family, of course. They've all co
Despite the fact that I've slept a number of nights by Orlando's side, I've never gotten a good look at him asleep before. With that loose, tousled hair, he looks almost angelic, but I know that the moment he opens his eyes again, that devilish spark will be back.Repositioning myself in my uncomfortable plastic chair, I prop my notebook on my lap. I've sketched half a dozen different pictures of him over the last half hour. It's tricky to hold the pen with these thick bandages on my palms, but I'm starting to get the hang of it. And Orlando is much easier to draw when his eyes are closed. In this latest doodle, I've even included some of the complicated machines on the far side of his hospital bed, even though only one of them is currently hooked up to him.I'm adding some shading when his voice rises from the bed. "Now I know how my actors feel."I glance up. "Huh?"Orlando smiles. "The way you're studying me from all angles. I imagine that's how my actors feel when I have them i
I just want to go home, slip on my yoga pants, climb into bed, and stay there for days.I glance around the waiting room as I walk through. There are a few more people here now, a few more people who understand the agonizing but monotonous torture of having a loved one in the hospital. The man with the hat and the popped collar looks up as I pass, but otherwise no one pays me any attention.A bright blue sky greets me as I step outside, and a warm breeze sweeps playfully across the parking lot, but neither one can lift my mood. I want to cry again, to sink down onto my knees and weep until all my tears have dried up.I also want to call Orlando, to hear his voice one more time. To tell him I made his father laugh.There's a footstep behind me."I was hoping for Orlando, but you'll do just as well."Throat clenching, I spin around. The man from the waiting room - the one with the cap and the collar - is standing there, and as he lifts the brim of his hat, my eyes go right to the r
Okay, so coming to the hospital might be mistake number 2,152 I've made since Orlando walked into my life. I thought I was ready for this. I thought I was strong enough to handle whatever I learned today. But I wasn't prepared for the sudden rush of emotion I feel when we walk through the automatic sliding doors into the hospital lobby. I've spent a lot of time in hospitals these past few years. I should have known better.As Rafe and Edie sign us in, my gaze wanders over the people in the waiting room. In one corner, a woman knits while two small children play with a plastic puzzle at her feet. Several chairs away, an elderly couple sits hand-in-hand, the man looking on the verge of tears. Against the far wall, another man sits with his cap pulled down over his eyes and his shirt collar popped up. He looks like he wants to sink right into the wall.All these people are here waiting for a loved one, waiting for news. I know exactly how they feel. Guilt swells in my belly when I think
Thankfully, the GPS system in Rafe and Edie's sedan already has Orlando's address programmed in. Before long, I'm cruising through the streets of L.A. toward his house.I have no idea what I'm going to say to him when I see him. But I'll figure it out when I get there. I just want to see him again.My palms are sweaty on the steering wheel, but I tighten my grip and pretend not to notice. Not even my overactive sweat glands can distract me tonight.When I pull into Orlando's house, I hit a bit of a snag - I don't know the code to his gate. Any grand plans I had to waltz into his house and surprise him with a big romantic gesture are effectively thwarted, but I'm not about to turn back now.I lean out the window and press the button on the call box.It takes a moment for him to respond."Hello?" he sounds confused. I guess it is closing in on midnight."Hey," I say into the speaker. "It's me.""Maggie." His voice is much more alert now."I want to talk," I tell him. "Can I come
Half an hour later, I find myself walking into Rafe and Edie's house, my head throbbing with tears I refuse to cry. Rafe takes the baby, and Edie gestures for me to follow her.What am I doing? I ask myself as Edie leads me upstairs to one of the guest rooms. I don't even know these people. I never should have accepted their offer of hospitality. They were just trying to be polite.But that's not the only regret bouncing around in my head. I just walked away from Orlando Fontaine. Girls like me don't usually get the chance to be with guys like him, under any circumstances. I should have been grateful he even looked at me twice. I should have reveled in the time we had together, for however long it took for him to get tired of me. He's mind-numbingly hot, astonishingly talented, and he knows how to do things in bed that I'd never even imagined before. So what if he doesn't love me? Half a relationship with Orlando might still have been better than no relationship at all.Edie shows m
Orlando twists around. Just outside his window stands a big, muscled guy with a closely shaved head and a dark line of stubble along his jaw. At first glance, he's terrifying - but then I get a better look at his face. It's the only one of Orlando's brothers I haven't met yet - Raphael, or Rafe, as he's more commonly known."Everything okay in there?" Rafe says through the window. His voice is so deep it's almost startling."We're fine," Orlando says back. He glances over at me. Whatever he had left to say to me, it clearly isn't going to happen now.I flick open the lock and open the car door, climbing out. And that's when I see that Rafe isn't the only person standing in the driveway - there's also a pretty, friendly faced woman with a baby in her arms."What are you doing here?" Orlando demands of his brother as he gets out of the car."Did you forget?" Rafe says. "You said I could get those movies for our father. Edie and I are heading over to the hospital first thing tomorrow
I stride over to the bathroom door and unlock it, then hurry out into the restaurant. My dress is still partway unzipped, but I can't bring myself to care. I want to get out of here, to find a place to be alone and figure out what the hell I'm supposed to do now.He doesn't love me. That knowledge burns deeper into my heart with every step I take. I love him, but he doesn't love me. Even though I told myself a hundred times this was coming, even though I warned myself from the beginning that my crush would never be returned, not in the way I wanted, it feels like someone has torn my heart out.Something tugs at my foot, nearly tripping me, and when I look down I see that my thong is caught around my ankle, tangled partway around the heel of my shoe. And that one of the bands of elastic has caught on the edge of a table leg."Maggie!"Orlando's voice carries across the restaurant, causing a number of people to look up from their meals.I'm too emotional to listen to him right now.
The moment the words are out of my mouth, my climax hits. I go tumbling off the cliff, falling headfirst into a river of sensations so deep I can't remember which way is up. Within seconds, Orlando groans against my throat, pinning me hard against the chair as he finds his release.We both stay there for several long moments, just trying to catch our breath. My skin is dewy with perspiration, and several large beads of sweat roll down my back, but for once, I don't mind. I don't even care that large patches of my hair cling damply to my throat.With a contented sigh, I let myself lean against the back of the chair. Orlando reaches down and pulls up his pants, then takes a seat on one of the lower stacks of chairs nearby.I rub my eyes, feeling exhausted. "That was...hot."He chuckles, and he sounds just as tired as I feel. "I agree."There's something strange in his tone, and I open my eyes to slits, peering at him. "Is something wrong?""No," he replies, shifting and reaching do