What To Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection Part Two (46 page)

My legs parted and the little black dress rode up, exposing more of my thighs than I’d planned on showing anyone tonight. Max’s hand wrapped around the back of one of my thighs and he settled in between my legs. Through my panties, and through the fabric of his slacks, I felt his erection press against me.

“Wait,” I said, pulling my mouth away from his. “We can’t do this.”

“Can’t make out on your bed?” He kissed me deeply again.

I put my hands on his arms to push him away. But once I felt the firm biceps, I just squeezed them. He groaned. “You like them?”

I did, but I wasn’t going to say it out loud.

“Max, I’m serious.”

He stopped kissing me, stopped rubbing himself against me, but stayed where he was. “Me, too. I want you, Olivia. Right here. Now.”

He lowered his head and his tongue was in my mouth, licking my tongue.

I closed my eyes and then my fingers were running through his hair. I could hear my heart beating in my ears as the hot air from Max’s heavy breathing heated our kiss even more.

His hand stroked my thigh possessively, his fingers brushing the edge of my panties. He pulled away from the kiss and looked down as he raised the hem of my dress higher, exposing my bare legs and silk panties, which by now had started to become wet.

“God, Olivia. You’re so sexy.” His voice was so low it was almost just vibration at that point, our bodies so close it was as though I was absorbing the sounds he was making.

The situation was dizzyingly hot.

He pushed against me, letting me feel how hard his cock was. I raised my hips to meet him. I looked into his eyes and saw a primal craving. My mind swam in the fantasy of being the object of his desire.

Max brought his hand up to my shoulder. One finger slipped under the strap of my dress.

This was it. He was about to get me naked. There’d be no going back after that. Not just because he wouldn’t want to stop, but because I wouldn’t want to either.

This was bad, bad news. It was rife with potential to ruin our business relationship. It could ruin everything. It could ruin
me
, professionally and emotionally.

On top of that, there was a huge risk that his Hollywood lifestyle found him in situations like this all the time. Once that unfortunate nugget of doubt and fear entered my mind, I couldn’t get rid of it. I didn’t want to be another mark on his scorecard.

I needed to stop him before this went further.

When I heard the door opening, I looked up and my eyes met Max’s. He said, “Fuck,” and was off me, moving to a sitting position on the bed.

Krystal popped into the room before I could rearrange myself. I was just rising up from lying down, my dress was still hiked up to my hips. Embarrassing, yes, but a small price to pay for her providing me an easier way out of this situation.

Krystal stopped in her tracks. “Oops. Sorry. I’ll leave.”

Max didn’t say anything.

“No, no, it’s okay,” I said, pulled my dress back down my legs to a more respectable length.

Max looked at me. “It is?”

I nodded my head and looked at Krystal. “Max was just leaving.”

Max stood.

I said, “I’ll walk you out.”

Krystal stepped into the bathroom. “Guys, seriously, if you want me to leave…”

“You’re fine,” I said.

When we got out into the hallway, Max backed me up against the wall and kissed me, his tongue licking lusciously through my mouth.

“That was a close call,” he said.

“Yeah. Good thing she came in.”

“No, not good at all. I’m not giving up on this. I’m not giving up on
you
, Olivia.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. Probably more defensive than I needed to be. “It would probably be a good idea if you did.”

Max leaned in, his face barely two inches from mine. “Do I seem like the kind of guy who doesn’t go after exactly what he wants?” He kissed me again for a solid minute, then took a step back, eyed me up and down, and said, “You’re perfect.”

Then he just started walking down the hall, not looking back. I stood there silently, stunned by what had just happened to me over the last couple of hours.

When Max turned the corner down the hallway I fell back against the wall and said under my breath: “So. Are. You.”

K
rystal gave me shit about the whole thing the rest of the weekend. We spent Saturday walking around Las Vegas, eating a killer lunch at a cheap buffet. Indulgent, not very healthy, and just what I wanted after the crazy night I’d just had.

I didn’t see Max again until Sunday morning. Krystal and I were checking out of the hotel, standing at the reception desk. Since the weekend was her treat, she was handling the bill and I was free to look around.

Max was standing at the entrance to the hotel restaurant, dressed in casual clothing. He had his Ray Bans on, so I couldn’t see his eyes. I figured he might have a hangover and he was shielding them from the light.

Next to him stood a statuesque blonde in a red dress. She had her back to me so I couldn’t make out her face. She stood with one foot crossed over the other, her ankles locked. She wore five-inch heels that showed off her calf muscle definition. She seemed to be doing most of the talking.

At one point she put her hand on Max’s shoulder.

I hated the fact that seeing that gesture made my stomach turn. It seemed like I didn’t have grounds to be jealous. After all, I was the one who rejected him and ended our night. But I resented the fact that I
had
to end it. I knew I’d done the right thing, but still I hated it.

Max had told me he wasn’t giving up, that he wasn’t the type of guy who didn’t pursue what he wanted. I had no reason to think that wasn’t true, but seeing him with that woman was like a slap in the face. Of course he went after what he pursued. Of course he got what he wanted. And he probably did want me. It’s just that I wasn’t the only one. Exactly as I had predicted to myself when he was on top of me in the hotel room the other night.

I really needed to let this go….

Sunday was my usual check-in day with my parents, so I called them when we got back to L.A.

They were on separate phones at their house and when I told them what I’d done that weekend, there was a short span of silence before my mom said, “Harold, did you hear what she said?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?”

“I thought you were.”

This was usual for my parents. They were both very conservative and demanding of Grace and me, but the lectures usually fell to my mom.

She said, “They call it ‘Sin City.’ Did you know that, Olivia?”

“Yes, Mom, I’ve heard that before.”

Oh, if only she knew how close I came to sinning with Max.

“You know that, Harold, right?” It was like my mom was scolding him, too.

I shut down that part of the conversation by asking about their favorite topic of discussion, Claire, my niece. They recounted each and every little thing Claire was doing as she approached her first birthday, and my mom said, “You’ll see her soon. Thanksgiving, right?”

I told her that I was definitely coming home for Christmas, but wasn’t sure about Thanksgiving yet. This touched off a ten minute debate, and by the end of it I couldn’t have been more ready to end that exhausting call.

I went out into the den and found Krystal lying on the couch watching TV. She was riveted to an argument between two of the Kardashian sisters. I sat down in one of the chairs and watched for a few minutes, but it was annoying and I was able to block it out with thoughts of Max.

When the show went to commercial, Krystal muted the television. “What’s wrong?”

I snapped out of my daydream. “Nothing.”

“Lie.”

“It’s just…I don’t know.”

She sat up and faced me. “It’s Mr. Hollywood, isn’t it?”

I pulled my feet up to the seat, hugging my knees to my chest, and sighed. “Is it that obvious?”

“Uh, yeah. It really is.”

After Max had left the hotel room, I told her the whole story so she knew nothing had happened. Well, nothing much, anyway. Just enough to make it a recurring topic of conversation, mostly with Krystal saying I should have gone for it all that night.

“Listen,” she said, “if you’re going to make your life here, you’re going to have to get used to this sort of thing. Especially since you’re going to be working around actors, directors, producers… I mean, think about it. You’re pretty, single, and guys like you. This isn’t Ohio, and it certainly isn’t our little Podunk town.”

She had a point. I was in uncharted waters and possibly in over my head. But if I was going to make it here, I’d have to learn to deal with it. That didn’t mean I had to sleep with every guy who hit on me; it simply meant I’d have to become skillful at choosing the right ones to say yes to, and not leading on the ones I knew I’d say no to.

I shouldn’t have led Max on like I did, and I felt a little guilty about that.

But the bigger immediate issue—in fact, the
biggest
issue—was what impact the other night would have on my work.

“Shit. What am I going to do if he turns down Jacqueline for the role and Kevin finds out why? I’ll be screwed.”

Krystal got up from the couch and grabbed her empty glass. She walked into the kitchen while answering. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do about that now. Except maybe call him up and sleep with him now.”

“Come on, I’m serious.”

“I know,” she said, her voice carrying in from the kitchen. “Sorry. I wish I knew what to tell you. Do you want some wine?”

“Ugh. No, I’ve had plenty this weekend.”

Krystal obviously wasn’t going to be of much help, but I was hoping she’d have some insight for me. Even something small and seemingly insignificant that might spark a solution in my mind. But all hope was dashed when she came back into the room.

“Oh! The show’s back on.” She grabbed the remote and un-muted the television. “Sorry, I have to see what happens here.”

I arrived at work Monday morning determined to get back in the mindset I was in before the Vegas trip, which meant focusing on work and only work, and that’s what I did all week. Work during the day, Netflix at night.

We didn’t hear from Max or his people all week. I talked to Jacqueline several times, and she was becoming increasingly difficult to deal with. She was convinced she wasn’t going to get the part. Once again, I had to play therapist and keep her on an even keel.

Friday brought some comic relief in the form of an aspiring actor and complete jackass I had to meet with. Part of my job was doing preliminary reviews of unsolicited letters and resumes sent to us by people looking for an agent.

Sam Ryan arrived fifteen minutes late for the meeting, a bad first impression for an actor seeking representation. He wore black jeans, a white t-shirt, black leather jacket, and way too much aftershave.

We went to the conference room and started off with some small talk about the great weather and the horrible traffic, typical LA conversation pieces.

Within ten minutes, I knew I was dealing with a guy who thought too much of himself. He kept telling me how much casting directors didn’t know what they were doing, how there’s so much untapped talent out there and he was the “cream of the untapped crop,” and how the industry was overly concerned with money to the detriment of art.