“I never hear what you’re shooting for when this franchise thing is in the bag. Won’t turning a book you love into a movie be something to aim for?”
When I went for my first audition as an actor, I’d come out of the meeting knowing that if I got the part, I’d do every job it took to be a success. I was determined not to squander the opportunity.
“I think passion for success has gotten you a long way. Have you ever thought that you could have passion in a different way, for the actual work? Maybe you need something more.”
My heart began to beat through my chest. Something more. Looking back, it was probably what I’d been wanting for a long time. I’d pushed the feeling down by partying and then by focusing on getting back what I almost lost. But being here in Maine, with Lana, the feeling had grown. But it wasn’t so scary anymore. “Maybe I’ll call Brian and talk it over with him.”
Taps on the roof gave away that it was raining before it was possible to see for sure. “You see? Rain.”
“So what about you?” I asked, nodding at her drawing pad.
“What about me?”
“What are your big dreams or future plans? What’s your more?”
She looked out over the ocean. “I have everything I ever wanted here. My shop. A beautiful cottage. A million-dollar view.”
“The view is spectacular. But what about these?” I asked, pulling her notebook over to see what she’d been working on. “You don’t want to market these to high-end retailers? Sell them in New York and London and Paris? They’re incredible.”
“They’re just sketches, and I like Maine. I don’t have to be selling jewelry all over the world to be happy.”
She fished a necklace out of her blouse and held out the pink stone that hung around her neck. “My less expensive designs are just as cute, don’t you think?”
“You know I think you’re super talented. I’d just like to see you make one of these things.” I ran my fingers over the folio of work she kept. “Rather than just draw them.”
She sighed. “I will. One day.”
“How about I promise to call Brian if you make me something? I want to see one of these incredible designs come to life.”
“It’s not that easy. It’s a huge investment. I’d have to buy the gold and these pieces here”—she drew her finger along the left side of the jeweled collar—“are sapphires. It’s not like I can stop off at Jerry’s Foodstore and fill up my shopping cart.”
“Whereas Jerry’s got a two-for-one sale on turning a book into a movie.”
She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. She hated to lose, and usually I was happy to concede outside the bedroom. But I wanted her to think about this.
“Okay. I’ll make you something if you promise to call your agent.”
She was so damn cute that it took everything I had not to grab her, pull her onto my lap and kiss her into next week. But then, I was always fighting that feeling.
“One of your designs. In your studio. Not more lemon curd.”
“Something wrong with my lemon curd?”
I’d spent the day trailing smears of sticky yellow across her nipples, over her pussy and in her belly button. There was absolutely nothing wrong with her lemon curd. “I think we both know how much I enjoyed it, but I want you to make me jewelry.”
“And you’ll make some calls about the book?”
I nodded.
“You got yourself a deal.”
“Good,” I replied.
“Making deals with you gets me hot,” she said. “Wanna get naked?”
“Always,” I said, discarded my book, stood and pulled her to her feet.
Sixteen
Lana
“What are you thinking about?” Matt asked from the bathroom door, his chest speckled with water droplets.
He’d come back early from the wrap party last night. When his car pulled up at just before eleven I’d assumed it was someone else. I’d been a little too pleased to see him, which worried me. Tomorrow he’d be gone. He was just supposed to be a summer lover. But every day I spent with him, I yearned for a week more. And it was getting worse not better. This house would feel empty without him. I’d feel empty without him.
I was trying to untangle the damp knots in my hair and not think about how after tomorrow, there’d be no one around to ask me questions like that. “Everything. Nothing. Why? What are you thinking about?”
“I’m thinking that—” He paused and looked at his watch. “I’ve known you for nearly six weeks.”
“It’s been that long since I saved your life? Death in the bandstand? I really should have let you get struck by lightning. It would have made a good headline.”
He grinned and strode toward the bed. “Six weeks since you verbally abused and harassed me.”
I tilted my head back to look up at him. “I think you got off easy.”
“I wouldn’t change a thing.” He stroked his thumb over my cheekbone.
“I wonder if your fans know how sappy you can be. I heard you were a player, a ladies’ man. A heartthrob.” I shook my head. “What happened?”
He chuckled. “I have no idea. You have a magic body and soul. And Jesus, you give the best blow job in the whole of the US of A.”
“Okay, maybe you’re not so sappy.” I rolled my eyes.
He dipped and placed a kiss on my lips. How was I going to get used to him not being here?
“I have something to show you,” I said.
“Seeing you in my shirt, knowing you’re not wearing anything underneath is enough,” he said.
“I think you’ll like this almost as much.” I pulled out my dressing table drawer and brought out the cuff I’d been working on over the last week that I’d carefully wrapped in acid-free paper. I’d barely been in the shop at all, wanting to make this before Matt left. “I figured I could maybe put a commission tab on my website and use this as an example.” I placed the piece on my dressing table and unwrapped it.
“Wow, Lana. This is beautiful.”
I rolled my lips again and watched him take in the gold bracelet that matched the more intricate collar in the Bastet collection. It was smaller, but also less expensive to make.
“You don’t think you could just sell it? It’s the sort of thing I’d expect to see at the Oscars.”
“In Worthington, Maine? I’m not sure Hollywood types come around here very often.” I poked him in his rock-hard stomach just above his towel. “There’s always the odd exception, I suppose.”
“Regardless, I’m proud of you. You’re so talented, Lana,” he said, rubbing himself down and climbing into his briefs.
“Thanks.” I looked away. Truth be told, I was pretty proud of myself. Five years had passed and I’d sometimes thought I’d never make any jewelry again. I’d seen it as something I’d left behind in New York. It represented my old life and old dreams. “And did you keep your end of our bargain? Did you speak to Brian about the book?”
He rubbed his towel over his head, making his damp hair point every which way. “I’ve put a couple of calls in to him. Left him a message.”
“You make him a ton of money, but he doesn’t call you back?”