Captive Films: Season One (18 page)

I shouldn’t be thinking any of this.
 

I came here for a new beginning. A new job. The last thing I need to do is drag down a smart, beautiful woman like her. I overheard my aunt tell someone that it would be hard for me to find someone new to love. That I have
too much baggage.

And she’s probably right.
 

Two little girls, who are staying with my parents so they can keep going to their school, while I figure out if this will work. If I should move them to California and take them away from everyone they know.
 

On the plus side, it will mean not having to deal with Whitney’s family.
 

They never treated her well when she was here. It kills me when they pretend to miss her now that she’s gone.
 

And I don’t want them to influence my daughters.

I haven’t had an inkling of a desire to date anyone or sleep with anyone since it happened.
 

My oldest brother, Camden, even resorted to taking me to Atlantic City and trying to buy me a couple hookers.
 

A fresh start in California means working with Keatyn and Riley, sunshine all the time, and getting away from all the reminders of Whitney.
 

Never once in the last month, while I contemplated Keatyn’s offer, did I think I would come out here and want to be with a woman again.
 

Especially not on my first day.

But I do.
 

And I feel both incredibly relieved and incredibly guilty.

Vanessa sets her champagne down and licks her bottom lip.
 

And I’m jealous of her tongue.
 

I try not to stare, but I can’t help it.
 

We’ve been flirting all night.
 

Yes, I’ve been flirting with her.
 

Although, she probably thinks I’m bipolar. I know I’m giving off all sorts of mixed messages.
 

Camden drove me to the airport, slapped me on the back, handed me a bag full of condoms and told me to use them.
 

I threw them in the first trashcan I walked by.
 

That wasn’t even on my radar.
 

But, now, my radar is being jammed by a gorgeous, stealth temptress in a shimmering black dress, whose red lips I’m dying to kiss.
 

She leans in closer, resting her chin on her palm, and purrs, “It’s getting noisy in here. Why don’t we take our champagne back to our room so we can discuss your ideas further?”

“Sounds great,” I say, wondering what the hell I’ve been saying. Oh yeah, something about the all-American designer I used to work for who I think would make a great marketing sponsor for
Daddy’s Angel
.
 

I put my hand across the small of her back, guiding her out of the room, and based on the male eyes following us, I’m hoping I don’t have to get in a fight to do it.
 

A fight.
 

Would I fight to go back to the room with her?

Hell yeah.
 

Maybe it’s because we just met and have a million things to talk about but I don’t think we’ll ever run out of things to say. She’s stimulating both my mind and my cock in ways I haven’t felt since . . .

Since that night we met. We talked for hours. Danced for hours. Made out for hours.
 

Then, I went home.
 

I thought about her a lot my freshman year in college.
 

Jake Worth, my roommate at NYU, and I certainly fucked our fair share of coeds.
 

But none of them wanted to talk. They were just horny. And that was fine, for a while.
 

I realize now, looking back, that Whitney and I weren’t well suited. My brothers urged me not to marry her when she got pregnant. We weren’t dating seriously at the time.
 

It was an accident.
 

And I wouldn’t change it for anything. My daughter, Ava, is the light of my life and we went on to have another beautiful baby girl, Harlow, a few years later.
 

I haven’t told Vanessa about my
baggage.
I haven’t told her that my wife hated life so much that she killed herself.
 

It’s not really something you want to blurt out when fate hands you a gift.
 

I’m still trying to figure out if I should make a move as we enter the room. The bed is turned back, soft music is playing, and the lights from the pool are shimmering outside.
 

Vanessa sets the champagne bottle down, saunters toward me, and grabs my tie, pulling me closer.
 

“The answer is yes,” she says softly. “I think we could top it. I think if we kiss now, it will be better than our first kiss.”

That’s all the encouragement I need. I wrap one arm around her waist and slide the other behind her neck. Just like I did more than ten years ago. Our lips touch.
 

And then it’s not about
seeing
if it’s good.
 

It’s about need.
 

She parts her lips and my tongue darts inside, exploring and intertwining with hers.
 

She’s pulling my tie off and unbuttoning my shirt while I kiss down her neck.
 

I push away slightly as I untie the strings holding up the front of her dress then watch as the top slides down exposing her beautiful breasts. I immediately strike, taking one nipple into my mouth, kissing it and circling it with my tongue, while caressing the other with my fingers.
 

And I’m harder than a fucking rock.
 

When she makes a little moan, I move us to the bed, supporting my weight above her, while still kissing her and sliding the dress down further.
 

Her hands are in my hair, my name on her breath, she’s unzipping my pants, and sliding her hand inside.
 

God, it feels so good.
 

Her soft hand is running down my shaft.
 

I push her dress up, strip off her panties, and remember I don’t have a condom.
 

All I want in this moment is to get inside her, but I stop.
 

And stand up.
 

Wondering what the hell I’m doing.
 

Fucking someone I have to work with on my first day?

Fucking someone, I think I could care about, because I’m horny as shit and it’s been so long?
 

“Uh, um, we better stop,” I say, kicking myself the second the words leave my lips.
 

But the damage is done.
 

Beach - Malibu

RILEY

After a long late lunch with lots of drinks, Jennifer and I walk to the beach. It’s starting to get dark and we’re both a bit tipsy.
 

She leads me in the opposite direction of her house and toward the pier.
 

She runs through the water, under the pier, swinging around the supports. She’s laughing and splashing water at me.
 

It takes me back to a clear, warm summer night with Ariela.

Jennifer waves her hand in front of my face.
 

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” I lie.
 

She leans in to kiss me and I back away slightly. “Am I too young?”

“What? No. You know I like you. I’ve been kissing you all day.”

“Then what are you thinking about? Some girl break your heart?”

I sigh and nod my head.
 

“Ahh, now we're getting somewhere.”
 

She sits down in the sand cross-legged in front of me. “Tell me what happened.”

“We dated for two years in high school and were supposed to attend USC together. Her dad talked her out of it. She told me after our graduation ceremony. Then she left. That’s the last I had heard from her until this week.”

“What happened this week?”

“She came to dinner at Keatyn's house.”

“How old are you?”

“Almost twenty nine.”

“So that all happened more than a decade ago? A third of your life ago?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“That's a long time to be sad, Riley. Have you had any relationships since then?”

“I recently had four dates with a girl before I cut her loose. And that was three dates too many.”
 

“Wow, she must have done a number on you. You still love her?”

I shake my head. “I don't think I could ever forgive her.”

“Stand up. Hold my hand. Run with me, Riley. Be free.”

She pulls my hand, but I pull back. “You remind me of Keatyn.”

She smiles at me. “That's a big compliment. She's kinda my idol. I've only met her once briefly at an awards show. I asked her to take a selfie with me. I’m so uncool. What made you say I remind you of her?”

“She's positive, free spirited, creative. And she believes in luck, fate, and endless possibilities.”

“And you?”

“I stopped believing in those things a long time ago.”

Jennifer holds my hand as we both stare out into the darkness over the water.
 

“She came to L.A. with me the summer before our senior year.” I mutter.

“When you filmed
A Day at the Lake 2
? How fun was it making a movie with a bunch of your friends?”

“It was a lot of fun. I learned a ton. We used to walk on this beach at night. She ran under the piers and would make me find her.”

“And when you did?”

“She'd give me a kiss. We even had sex up against one of those piers late one night.”

“Oh, that sounds fun. And probably illegal. We need to get your ass off this beach. Too many memories. I heard you bought a new plane. Wanna go to Vegas tonight?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. Why the fuck not?”

“I have to work tomorrow. I have meetings.
You
have a meeting with Keatyn.”

“Shit, that’s right,” she says. “Let's go back to my house, get high, and play video games.”
 

I smile at her and take off running. Then I tell her, “You might just be the best date I've ever had.”

Vanessa’s Estate - Holmby Hills

VANESSA

Dawson drives me home, gives me an awkward goodbye, then pulls off in that fucking red Ferrari.

What is it with a red Ferrari that makes a man . . .
 

No, bad example.
 

What the hell?

I mean what the fucking hell?

Why did he stop?

I stomp in the house, feeling like crap. I ate too much, drank too much, almost had sex with my new co-worker and got stone cold shut down. Now, I’m horny and alone.

Thank god for vibrators.
 

My butler, Bernard, is waiting for me. “Ms. Flanning, may I get you anything before you retire?”

“No, thank you. Actually, do you know if Ariela is still awake?”

“She had a rough day. I just took her down a pint of ice cream.”

“I think I’ll have one of those too. I’m going to change.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I throw on a cashmere loungewear set, grab my ice cream, and walk down to the guest house.
 

Ariela answers with spoon in hand.
 

“Rough day, I heard?”

“Yeah, dealing with my ex. I’m emotionally drained.”

“What happened?”

“We talked on the phone tonight. I told him I’m filing for a divorce. He freaked out and hung up. Then he called me back, crying. Making promises he won’t keep. Begging me not to tell my parents. That we’ll work it out. That I just need to come home. Hung up again, then called back. That happened about ten times.”

“Typical,” I say. “Wait, why is he so worried about your parents?”

“He’s about to become a partner in my dad’s firm.” She tilts her head at me. “Do you think that’s the real reason why he’s so upset? He’s more worried about the partnership than our relationship?”

“I don’t know him,” I say, carefully. “What do you think?”

“I think . . .” She takes a bite of ice cream, lets it melt in her mouth, and then says. “I think he might be.”

“There’s one way to find out,” I tell her.
 

“How?”

“Has he been seeing the secretary while you’ve been gone?”