With His Consent (For His Pleasure, Book 13) (8 page)

Even more, she loved his little notes, his musings about various scenes, character motivations, pieces of dialog that needed changing.

When she was done, the sky was just beginning to show the first signs of light.

She tiptoed back to his bag and slid the script into it.

Then she decided to go downstairs and grab some breakfast, assuming the restaurant downstairs was open. If not, maybe she’d find out if there was a coffee shop nearby.

***

As it turned out, the dining room was open for breakfast at six o’clock, and she was literally the first one there.

They served it buffet style, and so she loaded her plate down with bacon and sausage and eggs, and then ordered a cup of coffee.

While she was eating, people slowly began filtering into the dining room; an old man in a vest reading a newspaper, a couple with their suitcases and bags, a middle-aged guy wearing spectacles and a suit, with a pleasant smile.

She smiled back at him as he went and got himself a cup of coffee and a muffin.

Surprisingly, he approached her table. “Mind if I join you a moment?” he said.

Scarlett didn’t know what to say at first. But then she realized it might be nice to have a chat after hours of sitting alone in the bedroom with her thoughts. “Sure,” she said. “I’m Scarlett.”

“I’m Ryan.”

“Nice to meet you, Ryan.”

He nodded, gently peeling the plastic skin off his muffin. “So,” he began. “Are you enjoying your stay here?”

Scarlett took a bite of bacon and shrugged. “It’s a beautiful hotel. Unfortunately, I’m here on business, so that takes some of the fun out of it. I like the food. It’s hitting the spot.”

Ryan sipped his coffee and smiled. “What business are you here for, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Movies, if you can believe it.”

“Movies?” He looked perplexed.

Scarlett had a forkful of eggs. “I’m working on a film and the director is hoping to shoot some of it at this hotel. Unfortunately, there was a miscommunication and it turns out we didn’t get approval from the proper channels.”

“Oh,” he nodded, as if only pretending to understand. “Sounds frustrating.”

“It was. The woman at the front desk gave us a pretty hard time about it, which was kind of annoying. But I’m used to rude people, since I waitressed most of my life.”

“Did you now?” Ryan said.

“Sorry, I know I’m running on at the mouth. I haven’t gotten enough sleep.”

“That’s unfortunate.” Ryan seemed to be considering her words as he studied his muffin, finally taking a small bite. “So what’s next?” he said. “What are you going to do about filming at the hotel?”

“Oh, we have a meeting to talk to the owner later this morning.” She crossed her fingers. “Wish me luck, I think we’re going to need it.”

Ryan crossed his fingers. “I do wish you luck.”

“So what about yourself?” Scarlett asked. “What business are you in?”

“Well, this might sound funny, but actually I’m in the hotel industry.”

“You are?” She cocked her head at him, her stomach suddenly fluttering with nervousness. “You don’t work here, do you?”

He nodded with a wide smile. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

She slapped her forehead. “Oh my God. I am such an idiot.”

“Don’t worry, it’s my fault for not properly introducing myself.” He held out his hand to her. “My name is Ryan Singer and I’m the owner of this hotel.”

Scarlett felt like she might faint. She took his hand, but it seemed like someone else was doing the moving of her body. She was having an out-of-body experience.

“I’m sorry if I said anything rude.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you spoke openly and honestly about your stay and everything.”

She realized that Bryson was going to be irate at her. She had blown his chance to introduce himself and start fresh with the owner. Instead, she’d gone ahead and ruined everything by blabbering away without thinking about what she was doing or saying.

“Listen, give me a chance to tell you about this movie,” she said.

Ryan adjusted his glasses. “I’ll listen,” he said. “Mostly because seem like a sweet girl.”

She blushed. “Thank you for saying that.”

He sat back in his chair and smoothed his tie. “Okay, I’m all ears.”

Scarlett began telling him about the script. Fresh off of reading it and enjoying it herself, she felt a lot of passion about the story. For the first time since being hired to help Bryson, she actually had something concrete to do—a way she could contribute.

She had to get across to Ryan how good this movie was going to be.

He listened calmly, politely, to her entire speech. When she was done he smiled approvingly. “That was well done,” he said.

“Thank you.”

“How many days will you need to film in our hotel?”

She hesitated. “I’m not sure. The director is here, he can answer those questions.”

“The problem is, whenever a big production shoots in the hotel, we have to shut down for large periods of time and it hurts our customers.”

“Did I mention that Dale Nolan and Eliza Johnston are going to star in the movie?”

“They’re great actors,” he replied. “But…I sort of promised myself I wouldn’t let the hotel get dragged into another big film shoot again.”

“It’s going to make your hotel look wonderful. I can show you the script,” she said, rushing to try and get him back on her side. Then she remembered what Bryson had said about the hotel being a character in the movie. “The hotel is like the third lead in the film. It’s a real character in the movie—this movie could do for your hotel, what Cheers did for the bar in Boston.”

He laughed. “Really? This is going to be the next Cheers? That’s what you’re promising me now?”

“I’m just—I really believe in this movie. And I think your hotel is lovely.”

Ryan sighed. And then he looked her in the eye. “Okay, here’s my answer.”

***

When Scarlett got back to the hotel room, Bryson was in the shower. She waited anxiously for him to come out of the bathroom. She was nervous for any number of reasons. First of all, because of what they’d done the night before. And secondly, because of her conversation with the owner of the hotel.

Bryson finally walked out of the bathroom wearing just his towel around his waist. His body was still damp and glistening from the shower.

Scarlett had to avert her eyes. His muscular frame and handsome face were bringing back painfully exciting memories that she didn’t want to think about right now.

Memories she might never want to think about again, given how things had gone at the end of the night.

“Hey, where have you been?” he said, running a hand through his wet hair. He stood in front of her, unabashed in his near nakedness.

“I was having breakfast.”

“You could have waited for me,” he said, sounding annoyed. He walked to where his clothes were folded and picked them up, turning his back to her so that the butterfly tattoo was momentarily visible.

She hated that tattoo now. She hated that her asking him about it had ruined their night and what was happening between them.

“I was up early,” she said, “and I didn’t want to wake you.”

He glanced at her. “It’s a free country.”

Silence. She sighed, her hands twisting nervously together. “I ended up talking to this guy. Well, actually he came and sat down with me.”

Bryson straightened and looked at her, his expression like stone. “That’s really great for you, it sounds like you had a nice time.”

“Don’t be like that.”

“Don’t be like what?”

She groaned with frustration. “Like this.” She waved her hands at him, unable to even speak to express what he was doing.

He sighed. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Scarlett.”

“Listen, the guy I talked to at breakfast—”

“I really don’t care about the guy you had breakfast with.”

“He’s the owner of the hotel.”

“What?” He turned and faced her fully. “Are you serious?”

“I didn’t know. I had no idea until after I’d already told him why I was staying at the hotel and everything.”

Bryson put his hands on his hips and his jaw set. “Okay, well—what the hell did he say when you told him?”

Scarlett allowed herself a tiny smile. “He said that he’d already decided in advance not to have any more films here—until he saw my face, and my enthusiasm, and he just couldn’t resist.”

“What?”

“He said he’d let us film here, Bryson.” She exhaled, relieved to finally get it all out.

Bryson’s face broke into a smile, all traces of the tension that had just been permeating the room gone. He looked at her and shook his head, like he couldn’t believe she’d been able to do something like that. “Scarlett, I don’t know whether to fire you or promote you.”

Or kiss me,
she thought.
A kiss would be best of all.

“You could thank me,” she said. She loved the way he was looking at her, with admiration and a little bit of awe.

“Thank you,” he said.

His eyes looked into hers and she felt like she would do anything if they could just lie down in bed together and be close, and talk, mouth-to-mouth and ear-to-ear. She wanted his strong hands to caress her cheeks, to show her the affection he’d shown just last night.

Finally, Scarlett broke away from his gaze, looking down. She found the owner’s business card in her pocket and handed it to Bryson. “He wants you to call him in the next few days to arrange all of the details.”

Bryson shook his head. “I can’t believe he said yes without even knowing what the movie’s about.”

“I told him about the movie.”

“But you hardly know anything about the movie.”

She shifted her feet. “Well, that’s not completely true. I kind of sort of read the script last night. I—I saw it in your bag and I was awake and…”

“So you read my script and pitched it to the hotel owner while I was asleep?” he said. “Man—you’re either the best assistant of all time, or the absolute worst. I’m still not sure.” He turned and went back to the bathroom, carrying his clothes.

***

The train ride back to New York was strange and quiet. Scarlett tried to apologize for reading the script without asking, and talking to the hotel owner without Bryson being around.

He told her not to worry, but she was worried.

Things had gotten strange between them and she hated it. Last night they’d seemingly gotten close, maybe closer than she’d ever felt with a man before.

Worse, the quick moment of normalness they’d had when she’d told him about getting permission to film at the hotel had evaporated and now it seemed as if they were further apart than they’d been at the very beginning.

Scarlett only wished she could feel the same sense of annoyance with him that she’d felt when they’d first met. That had been easy. She was struck by the irony of it --hating Bryson was easy, but liking him was horrible.

When they parted ways at Grand Central, she started to walk away without even saying goodbye. They were on thin ice and she didn’t want to make anything worse by asking him questions.

But Bryson called out to her and she stopped and looked at him.

“We have auditions for secondary characters the day after tomorrow,” he said.

“Oh,” she replied.

What is it about him that brings out the monosyllabic responses in me? she wondered. Never before had she been so tongue-tied.

“I think it would be great if you sat in on the auditions with me and took notes.

Maybe after it’s over we can discuss over coffee or something.”

Relief flooded her body. She was going to see him again soon. “That sounds good,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound too eager.

He nodded and grinned, then shook his head as if he still couldn’t quite get over everything that had gone on in the last day and a half. “See you then.”

She watched him turn and walk away, wondering why a few kind words from him could make her feel like she would just float away with joy.

Maybe there was still hope, she thought.

***

Lydia called her twice that afternoon and Scarlett ignored it.

She was exhausted, having slept maybe a couple of hours at most the night before.

She fell into her bed and, despite her buzzing thoughts, was soon fast asleep.

There were only shadows of dreams, half-remembered as she swam out of her deep unconsciousness.

Bryson’s face smiling—hot kisses all over her body—the moans and cries of two bodies experiencing passion. Those were the stuff of fever dreams.

Scarlett wiped at her face and eyes, trying to rouse herself. She was groggy and it was now almost dark out. Her phone said there were two missed calls, both from Lydia.

There was one voicemail.

She stared at it and thought: I’ve created a monster.

But maybe not. Maybe she was overreacting. After all, Lydia had kept her mouth shut and given Scarlett the contract she’d found, when she could just as easily have told everyone within earshot.

Give her the benefit of the doubt.

Scarlett put the phone to her ear and listened to Lydia’s message.

“Hey, bestie!” Lydia’s overly chipper voice cried into Scarlett’s eardrum, nearly piercing it. “Just thought I’d call and check in, see what you’re up to. Probably something exciting with your movie. Are you and Bryson Taylor hanging out with Dale Nolan and Eliza Johnston? Well…don’t forget about little old me.”

Scarlett almost smiled. But then Lydia said one last thing.

“And don’t forget your promise, either.”

As the line went dead, Scarlett’s near smile faded completely.

She stood up and went to her window, looked outside at the New York City street and the people bustling by outside. There was such an energy in this city, and sometimes it made her feel like she was really doing something important, just by being here.

Sometimes she felt so connected to this world, and even more so now that she was working on this film with Bryson.

It was romantic and exciting and she never wanted it to end.

But then, she couldn’t help but dwell on the past, and the way it always tended to repeat itself. No matter how hard she tried, Scarlett couldn’t get away from these situations where she inevitably became intertwined with volatile people who blew up in various ways.