Page 38 of Steamy on Set

He jumps out to open the car door for me. With the guide of his hand, he leads me over to where the valets are. Warmth creeps up from where we are touching until my whole body begins to sweat. Still upset at the lack of compliment, I disengage from him as quickly as I can, stepping towards the entrance like I know where I’m going. He grabs my elbow, pulling me up short and turning me to face him.

“Farrah.”

With my chin tilted up, I look to the side of him, refusing to make eye contact. I feel the pressure on my face as he moves it to the right, forcing me to meet his gaze.

“Farrah.” He’s smiling wide enough that his eyes crinkle in the corner from the push of his cheeks. My breath catches at the sight of all that being directed at me.

“You look breathtaking.” The words shine through his dark pupils, and I exhale a breath full of my relief as the words melt into my skin.

“Took you long enough.” Pulling free from his hold, I make my way through the hotel door, listening to his laughter following behind me.

As we make our way into the ballroom, we’re instantly met with people greeting us. Handshakes and hugs are exchanged with Errol as he makes the rounds, introducing me. Feeling a little like a prized horse up for sale, I try my best to smile at face after face that is thrown in my vision. Each person takes the time to look me up and down as if evaluating my worth, before declaring their thoughts. Finally getting the praise I wanted, each one seems to remark on my looks.

“So beautiful—”

“What a star—”

“Look at that smile—”

Errol adds to the fanfare by agreeing with every single comment. I don’t know if it’s the champagne or constant attention that is making me feel light-headed, but after meeting the twentieth person, I excuse myself to go and get some air.

Once out onto one of the balconies attached to the space, I lean against the railing as I look up at the sky. The light pollution makes the stars barely visible, but the moon shines down in full glory. The night breeze brushes against my bare skin, taking with it some of the sticky sweat that lines my arms. Lost in the feel of the fresh air, I close my eyes. As I inhale calm and exhale worry, I try to not let my mind wander back to Mira. Once I feel like I’ve steadied my breathing, I turn around, ready to go back inside.

Standing in the doorway with his hands in his pockets blatantly staring at me is Errol. His head is tilted as his mouthlifts up slightly to the side. His midnight eyes meet mine, and I see the sparkling stars of admiration flickering in them.

“You okay?” he asks, breaking the quiet.

“Just a little overwhelmed.”

Stepping out onto the concrete, he closes the door behind him.

“I thought this would be a dream come true for you. Being worshiped like this.” He is smirking as he slides up next to me, his back to the entrance.

“It would be if I did something to deserve it, but I didn’t choose to be gorgeous.”

He chuckles a little at my admission.

“No you didn’t, but you did choose that dress.” His eyes dart down my face to the curve of my neck, before lowering to look at the outfit. I turn, making sure he gets every angle before leaning again.

“What can I say? I’m good at my job.”

He nods, his head turning to glance out at the sky. As he looks up, his stare becomes intense as his shoulders tighten. I feel the urge to make him feel better.

“You know,” I slide closer resting my elbow next to his. “You are good at your job, too.”

Rolling his eyes, it ends with him staring at me, apprehension clear in his face.

“And how would you know that? You haven’t seen me direct.”

I tap my finger against my chin as if I’m really thinking about this, while I pull at his jacket lapel.

“I have seen you take charge these past few weeks, and I’ve seen your passion in making this project work. Plus, the way you have been with me has been amazing. You’ve really put your all into making sure I’m ready.” I gesture back towards the room. “You have an ability to bring out something in these people. I can only imagine how that translates on film.”

“Is this what it’s like when you’re nice to someone?” he asks, lines appearing on his forehead.

“No.” I shake my head. “This is what it’s like when I believe in someone.”

He stops to look at me from one eye, as if scared of what he will see. Met with my adoring look, he finally lets himself really stare. My stomach flips a little when the corners of his eyes crinkle and those dimples appear.

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