Page 41 of Fool's Gold

If any of the paparazzi saw me now? They’d rethink all their stories.

The truth is so much harder to swallow than their ugly lies.

Marcus corners me after rehearsal and darkens the door of my dressing trailer. “We have an event tonight. You need to go home and get ready, and I’ll be there to pick you up at nine. Have you eaten?”

After a full day of shooting? My nose lifts into the air on its own. “I have no interest in any event.”

“Too goddamn bad.”

The bite in his voice has my assistant on set yelping before she gathers her nerves. Exhaustion practically glues me to the chair. The only thing left for me to do is glare at him like he’s the devil himself come to claim my soul.

“This is the kind of thing I need advanced notice about. It doesn’t matter what kind of event it is. I’m not going.” I force myself to turn to face him. To meet his gaze in challenge. “What are you going to do if I don’t go?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, bringing the gloom with him. He’s the dark cloud blotting out the sun. “I’ll dress you myself and drag you out if you can’t accomplish it on your own.”

I scoff. “Been there, done that. It seems the only thing you’re capable of doing is dragging me around.”

“Then you already know I’m a man of my word. If you’re not willing to do your part, I’ll do it for you,” he replies. “This is nonnegotiable.”

A shiver trails along my spine. Heat curls between my legs. What the hell is wrong with me? Staring at him now, the only thing I want is to feel his mouth on my breast and his fingers between my thighs.

“Watch your step, sweetheart.” His voice darkens. “You know what happens if you try to push me too far.”

“And you know what I’ll do if you try to force me to do something against my will,” I toss back. “You’re not my guardian. You might have leverage over me, but I don’t have to dance when you tell me to anymore.” I slowly shift back to the mirror and ignore the twin dots of red blushing my cheeks. “Get fucked.”

Surprise jolts through me when he bends down close to my face and nips my earlobe. The angle of his head hides the motion from my assistant, but the touch alone is enough to send my stomach spiraling.

“Ditto, sweetheart. Now, don’t make me wait any longer. Get your ass home, get changed. Be ready at nine.”

“My ass isn’t your concern.”

“The fuck it is. Nine. And eat because we can’t have you going jelly kneed.”

Then he needs to keep his distance because with him around…I’m at my best and my worst.

FOURTEEN

The red carpet event is a necessity.

It’s a showing of a release by one of the production companies owned by Stanic Maxim, and if we don’t make an appearance, then hell will rain down on us. Celeste all but promised retaliation, and despite such a tight deadline to begin with, we’ve got to carve out the time for the song and dance.

It’s going to be a bitch to plaster on a smile and pretend life is perfect. The press is going to have a field day about this regardless, as I’ll be showing up as Empire’s plus-one.

Tapping my foot against the floor, I wait for Empire to acknowledge me. Wait for her to say something about the ear nip. She says nothing.

“Nine,” I repeat, the walls of the trailer closing in around us.

If I stay any longer, then I’m going to do something. I’ve got too much pent-up energy, too much aggression, to keep my hands to myself. Dealing with Celeste and watching the shit show on set only makes me more tense.

I spent my time at rehearsal torn between watching Empire make a fool of herself and getting the details of the evening set up.

One of my grunts delivered a Giorgio Armani Privé antique rose silk gown to her parents’ mansion, and the stylists would be on hand waiting for her arrival. Dinner would have to wait for a bit, until we get to the showing.

I rush back to my apartment and change into the suit I’d had delivered during my absence.

This would have gone a whole lot smoother with Sherry around to handle the details. She’s a fucking whiz at those things, always says it comes from her many years of experience. Experience doing what, though, she’s never told me.

Normally I give her a vague idea of what I want, when I need it, and she delivers. Never complains. Never tells me to shove it up my ass or says the responsibility is too much.

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