Читать книгу Passionate Premiere - Deborah Mello Fletcher - Страница 12

Chapter 4

Leslie shook her head as she stood with Dahlia’s requisite morning beverage in hand. Dahlia eyed her warily as she took hold of the cup and took the first sip of her drink.

“What?” Dahlia questioned, her eyes wide with curiosity. “What now?”

“You tell me,” Leslie said, blocking Dahlia’s path into her office.

“I don’t have a clue what you’re referring to,” Dahlia said, her curiosity peaked.

Leslie smirked, meeting Dahlia’s intense gaze. “Guy Boudreaux has been waiting for you. He’s in your office.”

Dahlia stood like stone, her mouth falling open in surprise. “Guy Boudreaux?”

Leslie nodded as she pointed to the closed office door. “And the casting agency delivered copies of his contract this morning. You didn’t tell me that Guy Boudreaux had said yes,” she whispered in a hushed breath.

“Must have slipped my mind,” Dahlia whispered nonchalantly back. She took another sip of her drink, avoiding the look her dear friend was giving her.

“Do you remember when Idris agreed to do your short film? You called me before the ink was dry on the paper.”

“I did.”

“And when Brad came on board for Victory you sent me a text message as the man was signing.”

“And your point?” Dahlia queried.

“You have a meeting with the black James Bond, the man agrees to be in your film and I only find out after the contracts are delivered and I find out from Guy and the delivery guy. That doesn’t sound out of the norm to you?”

Dahlia shrugged as a wide grin filled her face. “Okay, so maybe it’s a little unusual.”

“I wonder why,” Leslie said as she lifted a cashier’s check from the pile of folders in her hand and passed it to Dahlia. “He was just about to leave, and I was supposed to give this to you.”

Dahlia looked from the check to Leslie and back, her mouth dropping open in surprise. The six-figure amount was significant, and the accompanying note threw the woman completely off guard. Dahlia read it once, then a second and third time.

Leslie snatched the note from Dahlia’s hands. She read out loud, still whispering, “‘I look forward to doing business with you. We’ll negotiate my executive producer responsibilities over our next bottle. Your turn to buy this time. Guy Boudreaux.’”

Dahlia shook her head as she moved in the direction of the door.

Leslie stalled her one last time. “And Phaedra called. She and her new husband heard good things about your movie and they are also interested in investing.”

Dahlia shook her head. “Phaedra has a new husband?” she asked as her hand reached for the doorknob.

Her friend nodded. “A very wealthy husband. And her new hubby has very wealthy brothers, but then you already know that, right?”

A look of confusion crossed Dahlia’s face. “I do?”

Leslie laughed. “Uh, yeah! It seems she and your new executive producer are related by marriage.”

Dahlia’s eyes widened considerably. “Phaedra married Guy’s brother? Why weren’t we invited to the wedding? Were we invited to the wedding?”

Leslie laughed again.

“Apparently, it was a quiet ceremony with just the two of them and their immediate families. Call her. Our sorority sister has a lot to catch you up on. And when you’re done with your new friend in there, I want to hear every detail about your meeting with Guy Boudreaux and that bottle you two shared. Can’t believe you didn’t tell me you spent time with that fine man,” Leslie fussed as Dahlia shook her head.

Studying the generous check one more time, Dahlia wasn’t sure whether she should throw her arms around the man’s neck and hug him or squeeze the life out of him. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door to her office and stepped inside.

Guy Boudreaux sat in the leather executive’s chair behind her glass-and-metal desk. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, his leather loafers resting on the desk’s corner. His cell phone was tucked between his ear and shoulder as he chatted easily with someone on the other end, all the while flipping through the papers that had been on her desk.

As Dahlia closed the office door behind her, Guy greeted her with a wide grin and a slight wave of his hand. He seemed quite comfortable. Too comfortable, Dahlia thought. And damn, if he didn’t look good, too! Walking to where he sat, Dahlia snatched her files from his hands, a look of annoyance on her face. He continued to grin at her as she pulled his phone away and disconnected his call. She dropped the device into his lap, then gave him a not-so-gentle push to move out of her seat.

“Executive producer? Isn’t that a stretch?” she questioned.

Guy stood up, the length of his frame tall above her, and she was awed by the nearness of him. The man radiated body heat like an overworked furnace on a cold night. The heat was consuming, and she suddenly wanted to strip naked for relief. The sensations sweeping through her were unnerving. She took two steps back from him, fighting not to blatantly fan herself.

Guy laughed. “Well, hello to you, too, Dahlia.”

“Guy.” Dahlia eased her way around him to sit in her seat.

As she passed, her shoulder brushed against his arm, and the connection was like an igniting flame. Guy felt his body tense; the scent of her perfume threw lighter fluid on his rising emotions. Every muscle hardened beneath his skin. Dahlia gestured toward the empty chair, wishing for some distance between them.

Moving to the other side of the table and the cushioned chair in front of her desk, Guy sat down. He took a deep breath before he spoke, willing the tension away. “No, I don’t think it’s a stretch at all. In fact, I’m thinking it’s quite appropriate in light of my very generous contribution.”

Dahlia paused, fighting to focus her eyes on anything except his face. “I’m willing to concede that. As long as you understand it’s strictly honorary.” She crossed her arms over her chest, finally lifting her gaze to his.

Guy held her stare for a moment, startled by the intensity that pierced past her forest-thick lashes. The look she was giving him was intoxicating, and something like desire washed over him. He could only begin to imagine what she saw in his own eyes since desire was exactly what he was feeling for her. He crossed one leg over the other, hoping to hide the sudden rise of nature between them. He cleared his throat. “What? You mean you don’t want me to be hands-on?”

“Truthfully, I want you to be exceptionally hands-off,” Dahlia emphasized. “You get a script, you memorize and deliver your lines like the professional I know you are and it’ll be all good between us.”

“We’ll see about that,” he said lightly as he shifted the conversation, leaning forward in his seat. “What time are you buying me dinner tonight?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you know my friend Phaedra?”

“Do you always answer a question by changing the subject with another question?” Guy countered.

Dahlia shrugged, feigning disinterest. “I’m not buying you dinner. If anything, I’ll buy you a bottle of water, but that’s about it. I don’t mix business with pleasure, Mr. Boudreaux.”

Guy nodded. “I’m glad to hear that,” he responded, feigning his own disinterest, “because my intent is strictly business. I do, however, try to eat three square meals per day. And since I’m on a strict regimen, there’s little that’s pleasurable about it, not even the prospect of your company. So, I should be done by seven o’clock. Shall we meet at eight?”

Dahlia paused, the man’s arrogance taking her by surprise. There was a hint of teasing in his tone, and that annoyed her, as well. For a brief moment she thought about throwing him out on his very delectable behind, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’d riled her.

“Tonight won’t work. I have another commitment,” she said finally.

“A date?” Guy asked curiously.

She ignored his query, amused that he would even think that he could question her plans. “I’ll meet you tomorrow afternoon at Roscoe’s,” she responded. “Can you do three o’clock?”

Guy laughed. “Two would be better, so let’s split the difference. Will two-thirty work for you?”

“Two-thirty it is,” Dahlia said.

“Enjoy your date tonight, Dahlia,” Guy said, tossing her a quick wink of his eye. He stood up and made his way to the door. He stopped short, turning back around to face her. “Oh, and to answer your other question, Phaedra married my older brother, Mason. She and I are family.” His grin widened. “See you tomorrow, beautiful.” He made his exit, his expression eager at the prospect.

Without responding, Dahlia leaned back in her seat. Leslie drew her attention as she cleared her throat in the doorway. The two friends locked gazes.

“And you won’t do dinner why?” Leslie asked.

“Were you eavesdropping?”

“You know I was.”

Dahlia shook her head. “Because he expected that I would just jump at the opportunity, and I’m not giving him that satisfaction.”

Leslie laughed. “And lunch tomorrow will be your comeuppance?”

Dahlia smiled. “It’s not dinner and he’s not dictating the where and the when.”

Leslie’s eyes widened. “You like that man.”

Dahlia’s face scrunched up in annoyance, her eyes narrowing to thin slits. “He’s an employee.”

Leslie laughed again as she reached for Dahlia’s smartphone and accessed the calendar on the device. She quickly tapped an entry into the database before passing the gadget back to the other woman.

“Something I don’t know about?” Dahlia questioned, scanning the month’s activity page.

Shrugging her shoulders, Leslie exited the room, still giggling softly.

Dahlia couldn’t miss the appointments Leslie had noted for the following night and each day thereafter. The woman had scheduled hours of quality time for her and Guy Morrow, each notation followed by a string of hearts.

“Not funny!” Dahlia shouted. She had to laugh at her friend, shaking her head. But as she sat staring at the notation she couldn’t help but imagine the possibilities, because Guy Boudreaux definitely had her imagination running rampant.

Dahlia couldn’t remember the last time any man had taken her breath away, and meeting Guy had done just that. Everything about the delectable man had put her on sensory overload and ignited a fire through every nerve ending in her body. Guy Boudreaux had been a refreshing departure from the usual characters she’d come to know in Hollywood. His down-to-earth persona overshadowed the bad-boy, playboy image he often portrayed. The man had been funny, intuitive and too damn sexy for words. In fact, Dahlia mused, blowing out a deep sigh, Guy Boudreaux had been too much man for her to even begin to fathom, and she was giving every ounce of him much consideration.

* * *

“So, who’s the doll you’ve checked Google for a million times on your laptop?” Darryl Boudreaux asked as he scanned the screen of his older brother’s computer.

“What?”

“Dahlia Morrow. You’ve been spending a lot of time researching the woman. Is she an actress or something?”

Guy shook his head, reaching to close the lid of his laptop from his brother’s prying eyes.

“Hey, I was optimizing your hard drive!” Darryl intoned.

“No, you were being nosy.”

“I was doing that, too. She’s cute, though. The woman has a body and then some.”

Guy rolled his eyes at his brother’s comment. “She’s a filmmaker, one of the best. Do you follow the industry at all, Darryl?”

Darryl shrugged his broad shoulders. “I don’t even own a television, why would I follow the film industry?”

“Uh, maybe to support your big brother?”

“I can support you without denigrating my mind with the garbage they’re airing on TV these days. And I think I support you just fine. I installed your security system. I fixed your garbage disposal last week. I designed a new rooftop garden for you—construction starts in two days, by the way—and if you leave me alone, I can make sure you have the best access to the internet to keep scoping out your woman,” Darryl said as he lifted the computer’s top and resumed his search of Guy’s database.

Guy laughed. “I wasn’t scoping her out!”

Darryl cut his eyes toward his brother, indicating that he knew better and wasn’t buying his brother’s protests.

“You need to worry about your own love life,” Guy said, gesturing toward his brother’s cell phone, which was vibrating against the desktop. “What’s that, the hundredth time she’s called?”

Darryl scowled, annoyance painting his features. He’d been ignoring the device for over an hour as his soon-to-be-ex girlfriend blew up his cell phone. He shook his head. “I told Asia that it wasn’t working out and we needed to sit down and have a serious talk.”

“I’m sure that’s going to go well. I told you that girl was crazy from the start.”

Darryl shrugged again, turning back to his task. “By the way, Maitlyn said to call her. She has some questions about you and your new woman, too.”

“What did you say to her?”

“I didn’t say anything to her. You hire your sister to be your manager and you don’t think she’s not going to know everything that’s going on with you? Big brother, please. You even taught me better than that,” Darryl said with a wry laugh. “And I’d bet my last dollar that if Maitlyn suspects something, then Mommy and the rest of the girls already know.”

Guy headed to the bedroom of his penthouse apartment. He hated when his siblings peeped his hold card, and Darryl taking note of his interest in Dahlia was a point of consternation. His brother had read every card in his deck.

His sister Maitlyn asking questions was something else altogether. Once his sister began to pry into his business, she had reached a point of no return. The women in his family were never readily willing to give him or any of his brothers a break when it came to other women in their lives.

Darryl going out of his way to comment on Dahlia meant his brother had taken note of much more than Guy would have liked. He himself wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge his sudden interest in the beautiful woman.

Since their first meeting, the encounter in her office and agreeing to take the role in her movie, Guy had invested a lot of energy in discovering everything he could about Dahlia. He’d even broken one of his cardinal rules, calling up the friend of a friend of a friend, who’d allegedly dated Dahlia, to discreetly inquire about her. Everything he’d discovered said that she was a woman devoted to her craft, loyal to a fault and not at all caught up in the shallow facade of what a Hollywood powerhouse was expected to be.

Everyone he’d spoken to had only favorable things to say about Dahlia, not one individual cosigning the tabloid fodder that had been written about her in the past. And much had been written about Dahlia; the supermarket rags read like the gossip bible of all things Dahlia Morrow. But even the tabloids didn’t dispute her talents as a filmmaker, and that in and of itself provoked much thought. Guy was thinking that the exquisite and enigmatic Dahlia Morrow was a woman he really wanted to get to know better.