Kitabı oku: «Spotlight On Desire», sayfa 2
Fred rounded his lips over obviously capped teeth and shifted forward in his seat. “I know, Jewel. That’s why I want you to meet him, get to know him before you start working together. You can help smooth out his introduction. Make him feel comfortable, all right?”
Jewel didn’t respond, wondering if she should take Fred up on that. Certainly, she was dedicated to making P & P the top-rated daytime drama, but why stick out her neck to support a novice director? However, because the studio was firmly behind Taye, she had no choice but to agree to Fred’s request.
Pulling in a slow breath, Jewel groped for a less-than-pessimistic mind-set, knowing she needed an attitude adjustment. “Fine. Fred, I’ll do whatever I can to help Taye Elliott settle in and get his footing.”
“I knew you’d feel that way. You’re a real pro, Jewel, and Elliott will appreciate your cooperation.”
“So, when do I meet him?”
Instead of responding, Fred shifted his focus above Jewel’s head and made a calculating jerk with his chin. “Here he comes right now.”
Jewel turned around in her seat, looked toward the entry and was shocked to see the man wearing the fancy black shirt walking toward her. He had a smugly confident expression on his face and was moving across the room with long, purposeful strides. He looks entirely too self-satisfied, Jewel observed, gripping the arm of her chair to steady herself when he stopped, looked down and said, “Ms. Blaine?”
In answer, she slowly dropped her chin, eyeing him from beneath thick lashes.
“I’m Taye Elliott.” He offered her his hand.
Jewel stood up to take it and immediately two things clicked in her mind. First, his palm was dry and cool. Second, his fresh lemon-lime scent was making the muscles in her stomach tighten, freezing her greeting on her tongue.
Chapter 4
Gulping her surprise, Jewel floundered for a moment and then regained her voice. “Yes, I’m Jewel Blaine. Good to meet you, Taye.” She squeezed his hand, quickly let it go and then sat down, struck by an irresistible urge to grin. He was one fine brother! Just the touch of his hand had rocked her, shaken her, made her go damp in her panties! And she was supposed to maintain a professional cool while following this man’s direction? That was certainly going to be a challenge.
Keep it together, girl, she silently reprimanded. Gotta play this one right. Can’t act too glad to meet him. Luckily, the waiter arrived to take their orders, interrupting the electrified lull, providing Jewel a chance to regain her composure.
Deciding on shrimp salads all around made it easy on the server and while Taye consulted with the young man on the wine, Jewel studied her new director’s ruggedly appealing profile.
The tiny nicks and scars on the side of his face only added to his Alpha-male image. Trophies from his stuntman days, Jewel surmised, her eyes moving over his rich tan skin. He had sooty brown eyes that sloped gently at the edges in a lazy slant that sent serious bedroom signals. His jawline was severe, but rounded at the chin, softening an otherwise-tough-guy face. Flared nostrils capped a keen nose. Black curly hair that was slightly unruly, but still well-groomed. I’d love to slip my little finger through that ringlet behind his ear, Jewel impulsively mused, shifting her attention to the vintage Cartier watch on Taye’s wrist. The man’s got good taste, she allowed, moving on to assess his flamboyant shirt once more, realizing why it seemed familiar. Ralph Lauren. Last season. She’d seen it on the runway during Fashion Week in New York.
Fred Warner broke Jewel’s mental trippin’ with a jolt. “Jewel, I was telling Taye that you and the P & P cast are ready to get back before the cameras.” He blinked at Jewel, clearly urging her to jump in and express her mutual delight with the studio’s newest hire.
Getting Fred’s message, Jewel locked eyes with Taye, who shot her a dazzling smile. Exhaling, she plunged ahead. “I agree completely,” she hurried to say. “The cast is fired up and ready to get on with the show. And please, Taye, let me know if I can help in any way…as far as characters, motivation or backstory go.”
“Thanks, I’m sure I’ll need to take you up on that and I have to say…what an impossibly wonderful and complicated character you play, Jewel. Caprice Desmond is somethin’ else.”
“Yeah, she’s a sister on a mission, all right,” Jewel jokingly agreed. “And the more you get to know Caprice, the more you’ll love her.” Jewel gulped. Damn! Why’d she say that?
“I’m sure I will,” Taye concurred in a melodious voice that initiated a warm pulse inside Jewel. She held very still as his attention slipped from her face to the gold chain settled in her cleavage and then back up to her lips.
Jewel resisted the urge to show him how amused she was by his obvious visual meandering. Clearing her throat, she adopted an all-about-business tone. “You’ll find the cast easy to work with,” she said. “No divas, neurotics or dual personalities among us. We’re a pretty normal bunch, so don’t be nervous.”
“I won’t be as long as you’re around to keep things sane.”
“I’m on the set every day, except most Fridays. If things do get crazy, and they can…or if stuff starts to unravel, I’ll do what I can to help you sort it all out.”
“I’m sure it won’t take long for everything to fall into place,” Taye replied with a self-assurance that made Jewel flinch.
Unable to hold back any longer, Jewel launched the question that had been uppermost in her mind since he sat down. “What got you interested in directing daytime drama? Are you a longtime soap fan?”
“Not at all,” he quickly and laughingly confessed. “But I do appreciate the genre and I love a great romance. The Terror Train films incorporate romantic subplots with passionate, star-crossed lovers. They provide a nice respite from all the action…and encourage both the men and women to see the movies.”
Sounds reasonable, Jewel thought, while not thoroughly convinced that Taye completely understood what he was getting into. “Okay, you like romance and action, but still…if your expertise is action flicks, isn’t this a huge departure from the genre you’re most comfortable with?” It was time to get real, get down to the essence of who Taye Elliott was and why he thought he could direct The Proud and the Passionate.
Settling back in his chair, Taye went calm, assessing Jewel with vaguely sensuous eyes. “This is how it happened,” he started. “I guess I was in the right place at the right time and had the right vibes working for me. Like surviving an accidental collision that has positive results, you know?”
“Accident? Collision? No, sorry. I don’t understand at all.” Jewel tossed a questioning look at Fred, who mugged innocence and shrugged. Did Taye just compare directing P & P to a car wreck? A crash? No surprise there. With an obvious sigh of frustration, she launched her next zinger. “How exactly did you get in line to be P & P’s next director?”
Taye flashed Jewel a magnetic smile. “I’m happy to explain.”
Jewel bent forward, anxious for the story behind this surprising development.
Taye squinted at Fred, appearing uneasy, confirming Jewel’s suspicion that her question may have caught him off guard. “Well…you see,” Taye began. “Richie Farral, who produced the action movies that I directed, is Arthur Platt’s half brother.”
“The Arthur Platt?” Jewel had to cut Taye off. “The former CEO of CBC?”
“Right. So, I was talking to Richie about my plans after Terror Train, and he mentioned his relationship with Arthur Platt.”
Jewel went slack-jawed while listening to Taye, slightly annoyed by how casually he was tossing around the names of major players in the industry. Richie Farral was up there with Spielberg and Eastwood and Lucas. And Arthur Platt was the legendary founder of the network that carried her show, a hard-nosed billionaire rarely seen in public and not known to be a generous man.
“So I told Richie I was open for a change, you know? A project that would challenge me,” Taye was saying as Jewel struggled to concentrate. “A few days later, Richie called to tell me that Platt had alerted him to this temporary gig for a director for a daytime drama, so I took a meeting with CBC and here I am.”
Now, she was truly annoyed. “Oh, really? It was that easy?”
“Yep. Wasn’t much more to it,” Taye confessed.
The ring of pride in his snappy reply sent blood rushing into Jewel’s head. A flicker of anger propelled her next comment. “So, The Proud and the Passionate is your test case? An experiment to gauge your ability to direct a daytime drama?”
Taye scoffed a laugh. “No, nothing like that.”
“No, not at all,” Fred jumped in in support of the studio’s pick.
But Jewel wasn’t about to let either of them off so easily. “Sounds like P & P is little more than a guinea-pig project as far as you’re concerned,” she threw at Taye, not particularly liking what she’d heard and letting her displeasure show. To her, the whole thing smacked of a good-old-boy hire—done quickly to fill a gap, with little thought to how such a snap decision might affect the cast.
Now, Fred Warner leaned low on one elbow, close to Jewel, obviously concerned about where this exchange was headed. “Nothing like that is going on, Jewel. Taye’s got what we…”
“Wait a minute, Fred,” Taye interrupted, slicing the air at chest level with a sweep of one hand. “I can speak for myself. I’d like to clear up Ms. Blaine’s concerns.”
“All right with me. Have at it.” Jewel sat back, ready to listen.
Turning to Jewel, Taye rounded his shoulders, gave her a quiet stare and then said, “You need to know that I’m a man who is constantly learning. Maybe that’s why I went into stunt work in the first place. Every scene, every stunt, every movie was different and I like that, as well as the challenges that come with each new film. I view risky situations as opportunities to push myself, to see how far I can go with my talent and the talent of the actors. Daytime drama will expand my experience, diversify my body of work. I view every project as a collaborative effort to perfect a common creative vision.”
“But what if the creative visions of the actor and the director are traveling separate paths?” Jewel tested, having no idea what his creative vision for P & P might be or if she’d share it once she knew. How could a hunky stunt guy whose head was filled with images of fiery action sequences and love scenes in the backs of race cars possibly grasp the nuanced passion, silky romance and complicated personal relationships that made up a daytime drama? A long shot, at best, Jewel decided.
“If there’s disagreement, then we compromise, of course. It’s all about working together to get the best footage in the can, isn’t it?” Taye asked.
A short hesitation while Jewel considered his remark, thankful that at least his answer had a ring of sincerity. Compromise was good. Working together was vital and she had no choice but to cooperate fully with Taye. After all, she had legions of loyal fans and was committed to protecting her hard-won reputation as a dependable actress who never failed to deliver exactly what her fans expected. And, she reminded herself, Taye Elliott was only a temporary hire. She’d be at P & P long after he was gone.
Forcing a more rational attitude into play, she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Good approach,” she tossed back, a bit warmer. “You’re absolutely right. We all want what’s best for the show.”
Taye sagged back in his seat, seemingly relieved to have passed that hurdle. “I’ve met with Lori, your head writer, and I’m up on the current relationships, but I could still use some help with the backstory on Caprice and Darin’s long-standing love affair.”
“Sure, it’s very complicated. How can I help?” Jewel offered.
“I was wondering,” Taye started, followed by a slight hesitation. “If it’s not an imposition, think you, Sonny and I might squeeze in an hour or so tomorrow to go over a few areas of the current story line?”
In the lull that followed, Jewel calculated her answer. Should she agree? Demonstrate her willingness to help? Or let him know that Jewel Blaine had other things to do on Saturday than talk story line with her executive director? “Well, I don’t know,” she hedged, watching for his reaction.
“I know it’s short notice and I’d hate to cut into your weekend,” he rushed to add. “So, if you’re busy, I understand. Just a thought…that maybe we could get a jump on Monday, but…”
Jewel’s mind flipped to the weekend. For the first time in months, she had no public appearances, charity events, social engagements or a date with one of the devoted bachelors she partied with when she felt like hitting the club scene or going out for a quiet dinner. In fact, she’d been looking forward to a few days at home alone to catch up on fan mail or simply lounge by the pool before launching back into work on Monday. But did she really want Taye Elliott to know that?
“Saturday’s not so good,” she decided. “Really busy all morning and most of the afternoon.” She swept her tongue over her teeth, appearing to be perplexed. “And I never work on Sundays if I can avoid it. That’s my day…totally mine to relax, do nothing I don’t feel like doing.”
“I heard that,” Taye agreed with a knowing smile. “We all need downtime. But what about later on Saturday? Maybe the three of us could talk over dinner?”
Startled by his persistence, Jewel inched one shoulder higher than the other in a subtle stall, thinking that one through.
Fred shot Jewel an impatient glance, which she interpreted as It might be a good idea, Jewel, while she was telling herself, Don’t push too hard, Mr. New-to-P & P-Director. I don’t like to be crowded.
Their shrimp salads arrived, temporarily letting her off the hook as they settled in to eat. During lunch, they discussed the shooting schedule leading into May sweeps and the kind of focus Fred wanted on the upcoming episodes.
An hour later, over dessert of pecan praline cheesecake, Jewel finally answered Taye. “Tell you what,” she started. “Maybe I can squeeze in an hour or two tomorrow. Early evening. Can I call you later to set a time?”
“That’d be great,” Taye replied with enthusiasm, handing Jewel his card, seeming pleased that his request might be accommodated.
“And I’ll call Sonny. See if he can fit it in,” Jewel offered, praying her costar would be available because meeting alone with Taye Elliott didn’t seem like such a good idea. “Now, tell me how you see Caprice Desmond and Darin Saintclare’s love story unfolding during sweeps,” she asked, making a mental shift in the jumble of unanswered questions cascading through her mind.
Sitting back, Jewel listened with interest to the man whose presence was sending all the wrong signals. Whose eyes were undressing her. Whose cologne was stoking a pleasure point deep inside her core and whose voice was challenging her long-standing, never-to-be-broken rule: no romantic involvement with anyone connected with her career.
Chapter 5
Taye drove away from Bon Ami with both hands tensed on the steering wheel of his truck, as if holding on to it kept Jewel Blaine’s image from slipping away too soon. Damn, she was hot! He could still feel her luminous brown eyes engaged with his, smell the delicate perfume that drifted from her beige-tan cleavage, hear the titillating chime of her voice in his ears. The heat of his reaction filled his gut, simmering there like hot coals banked to hold their warmth. Flushed with a strange sense of anticipation, he was not surprised that just thinking about her initiated the beginnings of an arousal that had no business existing and definitely no place to go.
She was more beautiful in person than she was on TV. Soft sable-brown hair, pulled back into a cascading upsweep of curls that created a sophisticated yet playful appearance. Smoky brown eyes that could flash with intelligence or simmer in sexy seduction. Skin like satiny sweet toffee—candy that he’d love to feel melting in his mouth. A diminutive powerhouse of a woman with gorgeous curves and the electric chemistry that put her slightly out of reach, even though her low-cut blouse had exposed sufficient cleavage to tease him, to dare him to try to shatter that proper-public image she presented to the world.
Taye smiled to himself. Jewel Blaine might not know much about him, but he sure knew a hell of a lot about her. Before their meeting today, he’d scoured the Internet for information about the mega soap star, checked out her Web site and viewed hours of past episodes of P & P. He knew that she came from a small east Texas town where she’d worked as a teenage model in a local department store before coming to Los Angeles to attend UCLA. Her first job after graduation had been as a pool secretary at Metro Artists United, a talent agency where she caught the eye of an agent who put her in a TV commercial and launched her career. She had never been married, had won two Daytime Emmys, a BET Award and an NAACP Image Award. She was devoted to her fans, whom she referred to as her family and in more than one interview she’d stated that a husband and children were most likely not in her future, as they would complicate the career goals she’d set for herself.
But is she happy? Taye wondered as he tried to throw off images of his lips easing down over hers, his hands spanning her tiny waist. Had she felt the sexual magnetism radiating between them every time they’d locked eyes? His heart turned over. Was hers doing the same? A quiver of arousal slid through him, making him shudder with startling need. God, how wonderful it would be to make love to her! But that was an impossible dream.
Jewel Blaine was smart. Professional. Driven. Secure. And certainly not easily swayed. He shouldn’t have been surprised that she would question if he was the right man to direct her show.
But she’ll come around, Taye told himself, sensing that he was just the man to handle a woman like her. It was going to be an incredibly exhilarating and possibly slippery experience, but he could hardly wait to get started.
It wasn’t the single glass of white wine that Jewel had had with lunch that made her miscalculate the distance between her car and the utility van that suddenly stopped in front of her. She stomped on the brakes and held her breath as the mind-fog fueled by thoughts of Taye Elliott broke apart and dissolved.
“Damn!” she cursed as her front bumper connected with the spare tire riding on the back of the van—thankfully, the hunk of rubber cushioned what could have been a major impact. Jewel slumped back in her seat, angry with herself for losing control and allowing this to happen. She was a good driver with a spotless record, and the last thing she needed was a moving violation or an angry driver screaming in her face.
Through her windshield, she saw the driver of the van—a wiry Asian man in a white jumpsuit—hop out and go to the rear of his vehicle. While he inspected the damage, three more men, who looked as if they could have been the driver’s brothers, emerged from the passenger side of the van and joined him. They began chattering away in a language that Jewel did not understand. However, she could certainly tell by the tone of their voices and their hand gestures that they were upset about the accident.
“Oh, hell, I gotta deal with this,” Jewel muttered, flipping open the storage compartment in the dash to retrieve a card with insurance information on it. Grabbing her purse and flinging her car door open, she jumped out and looked around.
Luckily, she had turned off busy Wilshire Boulevard to take Windsor to West Eighth, and was on a side street dotted with small shops, a gas station and a huge abandoned warehouse.
“I’m so, so sorry,” she began, hurrying toward the front of her car, thankful that no one was around who might recognize her and initiate a paparazzi frenzy.
“You hit me, lady!” the driver shouted, pointing to the back of his van. “You hit me hard.”
“I know, I know. It was all my fault. I’ll take care of any damage.” Jewel offered him her insurance information, which he snatched out of her hand, glowering more hatefully at her. Jewel sucked in a deep breath, stepped over to inspect the damage and was pleasantly surprised to see that the only vehicle injured was hers—a deep scrape that ran the length of her bumper. The spare tire on the back of the van had protected the other vehicle from damage.
“Well, that’s good,” she said with an audible sigh of relief, using hand signals to demonstrate to the man that hers was the only vehicle with a problem. “My insurance will cover my car. No reason to call the police,” she said, raising her voice. “No damage to you, thank God. No problem, right?”
The man rolled his eyes and glanced, three times, from the dent in her bumper to his unscarred van while his fellow passengers crowded around. Immediately, a rapid exchange of conversation erupted—short guttural bursts thrown back and forth, sounding very angry to Jewel, who stepped away in alarm.
Easing back toward her car, she began to worry. What were they talking about? Why were they waving their arms and screaming? Deciding that she’d better call the police after all, Jewel leaned into the open car door to get her cell phone, but when she raised her head, the driver of the van was standing in her face, screaming. He clutched his left shoulder with his right hand and bent over. “Problem, lady. Big problem. Hurt. Hurt real bad.” He kept rubbing his hand back and forth over his shoulder and groaning low in his throat. His companions patted his back in sympathy making pointed frowns at Jewel.
Jewel felt her mouth go dry and the muscles in her throat clamp shut. Was this some kind of a scam? Had she been drawn into a situation that was about to turn ugly? As the realization settled in, she made a quick decision: no way was she going to fall for whatever con job or sting these men planned to pull.
Revising her approach, she turned to the driver and, using her most intimidating voice, yelled, “What in hell are you talking about?” A pause long enough for him to understand that he’d chosen the wrong sister to tangle with today. “You’re hurt?” she snapped. “I did not hit you hard enough to hurt you and you sure as hell didn’t have any trouble jumpin’ outta your van.” She almost spat the words at the man. “I hit the spare tire. I was going only twenty miles an hour, at most!”
“Bad. Hurt bad,” the driver insisted in a more urgent groan, eyes swiveling toward his fellow passengers, who nodded their agreement.
Determined to maintain control over the situation, Jewel sniffed and then squinted suspiciously at the moaning man. “Fine. If you’re really injured, I’d better call an ambulance. And the police, too.” She whipped out her cell phone and held it up, almost like a gun, thumb poised, ready to launch a 911 call. Taking care to enunciate slowly and clearly, she told him, “I am calling the police. Police? Hospital? Okay?”
The driver’s eyes widened in apprehension. He let go of his shoulder and waved both hands back and forth. “No. No police, lady. No hospital. You pay me cash money, okay?”
Infuriated, Jewel laughed in his face, unable to believe this brazen demand. How dare he try to shake her down? In broad daylight? She snorted in disgust and jabbed the air with her cell phone. “Pay you cash money? I don’t think so. You gotta be out of your mind. I have insurance. If you’re really injured, my insurance will take care of you. I’m gonna call 911 and we’re gonna stay right here until the ambulance and the police arrive, then we’ll see how hurt you are.”
The man shouted something at his companions, who scurried back into the van. The driver spat on the pavement, hurled sharp words at Jewel and then returned to his van, taking off in a squeal of hot rubber.
Shaking with outrage, Jewel got back into her car and started the engine. Driving slowly, she paid better attention to the road and did not let her mind drift back to Taye Elliott, who’d already caused enough drama for one day.
