Page 47 of Beneath the Flames
“Don’t take his refusal to heart. Our team have approached him on several occasions and have been flatly refused.”
She laughed. “I was hammering out the details with him today.”
A pause. “Wait. You were able to get him to agree? I must hand it to you, Mrs. Davis. I didn’t think he would ever entertain the idea.”
“Thankfully, Master Nosh and I had an opportunity to spend time together recently. I believe his reservation about the interview may have come from his disdain for Hollywood.”
Mr. Schmidt snorted. “Well, I can’t blame the man for that. Hollywood has a long history of not treating Native Americans with any respect.”
“Sadly, that is all too true. Thankfully, for you and me, Master Nosh is a man of remarkable character and can overlook the mistakes of the past in the pursuit of a promising future.”
“I agree, that is certainly fortunate for us.”
“While you start gathering the crew, I’ll draft up questions for the interview so we can all go over them together next week.”
“That sounds good, Mrs. Davis. I look forward to moving forward on this project.” His voice then took on a more sympathetic tone when he said, “Let me just say that everyone here was horrified by what happened to you…”
Brie cleared her throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “I prefer not to talk about it, but I do want to thank you for the numerous flowers you and your colleagues sent.” That time being an emotional blur, she didn’t remember any of the gifts that had arrived, but Sir had faithfully informed her each time one came to the house.
At her request, he’d had them sent on to a charitythat gifted the flowers to people recovering in hospitals throughout LA. She’d had no desire to keep the overabundance of flowers after her rescue since they’d made the house feel like a funeral home.
Mr. Schmidt laughed self-consciously. “I know it seems inadequate considering what you’ve endured, but it was important to our team that we show our support at such an extraordinarily difficult time.”
“I sincerely appreciate your thoughtfulness and concern.”
“Good, good,” he said awkwardly, quickly changing the subject. “Would you like to meet at the office, or would you prefer us to come there?”
“At the office. I can’t imagine everyone having to make a special trip here,” she chuckled. Pausing for a moment, she added, “Mr. Schmidt, you don’t need to treat me with kid gloves. I contacted you because I’m confident in my ability to jump back into the project. In fact, I crave the chance to start working on the documentary again.”
“I appreciate your frankness, Mrs. Davis. And please call me Michael.”
“Michael it is, then. See you next week.”
Brie hung up the phone, feeling a surge of positive energy. This next film was going to be a triumph. Despite Holloway’s efforts to silence her and her films, she would be the victor.
When she returned home, she swooped Antony up off the floor and twirled him in the air. “No one can take away your dreams, my son,” she declared with a rush of excitement.
So, this is how it feels to be invincible!
Mystery Man
Brie had found the perfect frame for the photo of Wildflower. It was made of rustic wood that reminded her of the western cabin, but it also had metal filigree inlaid on the body of the frame, which reminded her of the bed they’d enjoyed together.
After setting the photo on her nightstand to admire it, Brie smiled to herself as she leaned down to open the nightstand drawer. A feeling of sentimentality washed over her as she picked up her beloved journal and began flipping through its pages.
Sensual memories flooded her mind as she recalled each fantasy she had penned in the journal and the scorching BDSM scenes that followed, which had incorporated the elements of those fantasies.
Brie vividly recalled the very first—her Warrior Fantasy.
That cherished scene had led to her first encounter with Rytsar. The Russian had fulfilled her journal fantasy, taking the essential elements of it and using them tocreate a unique scenario that made her fantasy spring to life. The scene opened her eyes to the power of fantasies.
She stopped on a page to read her cherished Wicked King Fantasy. Oh, Sir had been extremely clever with that one! He’d surprised her at the Commune when he’d played out the roguish scenario. Sir’s skillful execution of the BDSM scene had pushed her limits and turned her simple fantasy into an erotic experience she would never forget.
Brie caressed the journal lovingly, enjoying all of the memories of those sexual fantasies being beautifully crafted into BDSM encounters. She felt the journal calling to her again…
It was another indication that Holloway’s dark power was losing its suffocating grip on her soul. Taking her journal outside, Brie curled up in a chair and listened to the ocean waves crashing against the shore while she penned her next fantasy.
It’s been far too long since I’ve been with a man. I have allowed the rigors of work to steal my time and zap all my energy.
