Thanksgiving weekend would forever be etched in his mind as the meltdown period. He'd broken some rules with Marnie and restarted a relationship with Nia. He was supposed to be done with the girl. The minute he'd arrived back in New York City, his record label, Millennium, set up studio time to record their duet. He threw himself into the work, and to his annoyance Marnie followed suit.
The mid‐afternoon sun set upon the room in a fiery glow. Stillness blanketed the air, comforting them, letting their passions hum within the closed space. The laminate table shuddered underneath the force, but held.
“Nia, is Danny in here?” Marnie's knock on the trailer door yanked the sweetness of the afternoon from him like a soak in ice water.
Danny pulled out, stuffing his member in his pants. Nia craned her neck, a frown marring the thick sheen of makeup on her face. She lay bent over the kitchen table, her legs splayed like scissors, her right dangled in the air.
“Why did you stop?” she whined, pulling her panties over a pair of bubblegum pink stilettos.
Danny crossed the room, ignoring her question.
“Answer the door.” He sat on the couch and quickly ran a hand through his hair. His heart raced, but he tried to act normal as the door to the trailer opened. Danny wasn't sure why he was so nervous, since it was only his assistant.
Nia greeted Marnie with a sour look as she crossed the threshold. She walked into the trailer holding a stack of papers. Her skirt showed off toned, ochre legs. Those were really getting into shape. She wore a forest green silk top that highlighted her auburn tresses. Danny took a deep breath.
“Hi,” she said, smiling at Danny. She looked around the room, and although everything appeared to be in place, from the smile that graced her lips, he wondered whether she could smell the sex in the air.
“Fred needs you to sign these liability forms if you're planning on doing your own stunts.”
“Great.” Danny popped off the couch with lightning speed, ushering Marnie out of the trailer without so much as a goodbye to Nia.
“Honestly, I can't believe you're doing a country music video,” Marnie said as they walked back to his trailer.
“You've said that ten times already,” Danny held the door open for her.
“Which adds to the point that I am still in disbelief. Robert's okay with this?”
“I've worked with her before, plus Robert's the one who introduced me to her. Right now, her star power's tanking and I owe her one.”
He opened his trailer and ushered her in.
“The sad part was that she fell in love with me. After I caught her with the coke, I realized I wasn't. I felt bad, but I had to end it.” He explained to Marnie, reaching around her to grab a Sprite from the refrigerator. “Hey!”
Danny was startled when Marnie's fingers grabbed the front of his pants, but she simply pulled the zipper up and patted his thigh with a smug grin.
“Oh.” A sheepish smile appeared on his face, and he lowered his eyes to avoid her judging gaze.
His sex life was no one's business but his own. For some reason he felt embarrassed Marnie had discovered he was sleeping with Nia. He didn't even want to be here, but somehow he'd ended up in her trailer.
They weren't back together, but Danny didn't relish having to explain to Nia that he only wanted to sleep with her. His stomach churned at the thought, so he'd avoided it for the last two weeks. Marnie knowing only made him more anxious. He didn't want her to think of him that way. What way? He wasn't sure what to call it, but he wanted her to see him in a positive light.
“And now?” Her soft probing, yet lilting accusation, distracted him from his thoughts.
“Well, she needs the publicity.”
“Aren't you worried that people will think you're back together?”
“No, Robert's going to spin this as a record between friends. I don't want to be with her. I get the vibe she wants us to be together, which puts me between a rock and a hard place, because I'm going to be the bad guy again, you know?”
“Can I make a suggestion?” She leaned forward on the table and motioned for him to do the same.
“Try not to sleep with her,” she whispered into his ear.
He sat back, willing himself to ignore how the brush of her lips against his lobe quickened his pulse. Danny looked intently into her violet eyes and grinned. She was right. He was sending all the wrong signals.
“Yep,” he admitted. “Definitely shouldn't do that.”
Silence filled the room. He looked away, her words sinking in, but when their eyes met again, they burst into laughter.
“Okay,” Danny said leveling with her. “The sex is good…”
“It's just afterwards.” Marnie nodded knowingly.
“Yeah,” Danny frowned. “I don't want to hear her voice.” Relief flooded through his body, happy to find his words didn't offend her.
Marnie draped an arm over the booth, tilting her head. His heart fluttered as a cascade of red locks shielded her face from the afternoon sun. Moments like this where they chatted was rare. She was still an enigma, doing better than he was at keeping things strictly business. In the dusk of dawn he often lay awake wondering who she was.
“I don't know what happened,” he raised his hands in the air. “I used to be charming, and women liked me. But now I'm that asshole.”
“Yes,” Marnie said in agreement.
Danny blinked in surprise of her robust acceptance of his assessment.
“Have you ever been in love?”
“Nope,” Marnie smiled.
“Shit girl, your life was boring before you met me,” Danny laughed.
“Yup, just me in my apartment with three bags of smack.”
“Poor baby, all high and nowhere to go,” Danny reached across the table and patted her hand. They laughed even harder at the last joke.
He leaned back to catch his breath.
“There's something different about you.”
Marnie arched an eyebrow, confident and un‐phased.
Danny snapped his fingers. “What happened to that necklace you're always wearing like a uniform?”
A flicker of pain flashed in her eyes, but then it vanished and she returned to her confident demeanor. She brought a hand to her bare throat. “The clasp is loose. I haven't gotten around to getting it fixed.”
Danny nodded. “Remind me to give you the name of a jeweler my mom uses.”
“Danny, we need you in makeup,” a production assistant said through the door.
“Okay Bill, I'll be out in a minute,” Danny said.
He quickly looked over the papers Marnie needed him to sign. He was impressed that she had highlighted the important vocabulary and dated the appropriate pages.
“You're getting good at this,” Danny said as he quickly penned his signature. He shuffled the papers and handed them to her. “It might be time to give you a raise.”
Marnie simply smiled. Danny had never paid her a dime. Considering the cost of designer clothes and gourmet food, she couldn't complain. Waking up to the New York skyline wasn't bad either.
She exited the trailer with him, making a beeline for the snack table. She'd barely taken a bite of a peanut butter cookie when she heard the anguished screech. “you bastard you've got some nerve.”
She turned, her eyes darting to the makeup station. Liquid foundation three shades darker than Danny's skin tone spattered down his back. A brunette towered over him, her face twisted into a horrible mask of fury.
As Marnie rushed to the makeup station, Danny stood, grabbing the makeup artist's hand. Foundation dripped across his lips, down his red dress shirt and black slacks.
“I'm sorry,” Danny said.
The makeup artist stifled a sob and shoved him out of her way, storming off the lot.
Marnie pulled a wad of napkins she'd nabbed from the snack table out of her purse. Danny stood frozen, staring in pity at the retreating woman. He sprang back to life when Marnie wiped the side of his face.
“I'm fine.” He shoved her hand away.
“I'm going to have a talk with Kevon and human resources. She's not coming back on this set.” Marnie grabbed another napkin and kneeled to wipe the foundation off his slacks.
“Don't do anything.” He grabbed her wrists, pulling her back up. “Leave her alone. I'm fine.” The fire in his gray eyes was familiar. The makeup artist must be a jilted lover.
It seemed off though, for that woman to catch Danny's eye. She was his elder, and he didn't strike her as someone who wooed older women.
Danny stepped into the living room freshly showered, in a pair of crisp black jeans and a steel gray shirt. He forced a smile when Robert clapped him on the back in greeting.
Sitting on the plush sofa, Nia nearly disappeared, sinking between the large cushions. She wore a sleeveless soft yellow dress. A cutout showed off her new heaving bosoms. “Danny, let's get this over with. I want to go eat.”
“Would you like some chips? A ham sandwich?” Marnie sat in a high back chair in the corner of the room. Danny barely caught sight of her violet eyes. A large lamp hid her from view. She practically blended into the scenery, wearing a black T‐shirt with a sparkling silver splatter and midnight blue jeans. Robert had staged the room with lights, flanking the sofa, so he could do an impromptu photo shoot with Danny and Nia.
Nia shot Marnie a withering look of disgust. “No.”
Danny's stomach rumbled in pleasure. A ham sandwich and a bag of cheese dusted chips. Marnie may have been the only woman he'd ever met who could appreciate dinning on that menu, while watching a classic movie. Nia, on the other hand, had managed to bully him into going to a new French bistro tonight.
“Okay, lovebirds.” Robert motioned for Danny to take a seat next to Nia.
He glared at his publicist in passing. You'd better not be trying to get us back together.
An hour and a half later, Robert capped the lens on his camera and gave Danny and Nia the go ahead to catch dinner.
“Where's your bathroom?” Nia asked.
Marnie placed a hand on Nia's elbow and steered her down the hall.
“Brian tells me you and Marnie went to Tahoe.” Robert stuffed the camera into a black bag.
Danny blinked. Was it a question or an accusation? “Yes.”
He kept his answer short, waiting to see where the probing would lead to.
“How's it working out for you to have an assistant?”
“It's going well.” Ever since her relapse at the club, Marnie had turned over a new leaf. She fell in line with his direction and stopped fighting his every order.
“Two men, one woman. Kevon's married. You're not seeing anyone?” He paused.
Danny negated that train of investigation.
Robert tilted his head in the direction of the hallway. “What exactly is she assisting you with?”
“Watch yourself, Rob.”
“I just want to get ahead of the drama.”
“We're strictly business.” Despite that kiss, the one that haunted every waking moment. The one he was dying to know if it affected her the way it had him. They hadn't talked about it, hadn't kissed again. Despite the longing to run a finger across that ochre cheek, to place a hand on her back, to taste those luscious lips again. Business had resumed as if nothing happened.
Whenever he got the urge to grab her by the shoulders and thrust her into his room and cover her with bruising kisses until she was swollen with passion, he remembered. The dangling cigarette. The look of anguish upon her face, after he kissed her. She didn't like him.
Danny shook his head. “There's nothing to worry about.”
Understanding dawned on Robert's face. “She's gay.”
Danny chuckled. He thought about that kiss, remembered how her tongue had stroked his. “No, old man, just not my type.”
The girls re‐entered the room. Robert turned from Danny and began to dismantle the lamp lights.
Marnie gathered the coats. Danny took Nia's and eased it over her shoulders before donning his own.
“Kevon's already waiting downstairs, so we can head straight down.” Marnie clapped her hands.
As they headed for the elevator, Robert grabbed Marnie's arm.
“Honey, I need you to stay and help me.”
Danny raised a brow. The old coot didn't believe him.
“Turn the knob and then twist and pull.” Robert demonstrated dismantling the base of the lamp.
She followed his lead with the second light, handing him the pedestal.
“Strange thing that happened with Danny and his makeup artist earlier today,” Marnie said.
“Hmm? Oh yes, Emily's mother. I don't know what human resources were thinking when they hired her for this video. Fortunately, they found someone else to cover for her next week.”
“Emily?” Marnie handed him another piece of the lamp.
Robert turned, pausing, his eyes narrowed. “Old girlfriend. She died a while back. The mother never got over it.” His words came out stilted, as if weighing the decision of how much she should know.
“How long were they together?”
“A few years. Why the sudden interest?”
“Just curious.” She shrugged. “He's never mentioned her.”
She thought about the pictures she'd found in his closet. Were those pictures in that shoe box of Emily?
“He took her death hard. Went on a binge for a year.” Robert sighed, the weight of years of worry in his voice.
“Marnie, how long do you plan on staying?”
“Oh.” She hadn't given her time with Danny any thought. But she'd been sober for seven months. Perhaps there was nothing left for him to teach her. “Not long.”
“You're good for him. Even if he doesn't mention it, I can tell he's changed. Showing up for meetings on time, staying in the same city for more than a week. The biggest indicator of all…” He drew a circle in the air. “I've been sleeping.” A deliciously wide grin covered his face, lighting his midnight blue eyes.
“It's not the drugs you need to worry about, it's the women,” Marnie said.
A grave look vanquished the grin. “Yes, I know.”
“They want more than he's willing to give. He's unable to communicate that to them. They think his carelessness is malicious, but I don't think he knows how to tell them.”
“Marnie, you understand him.”
“But you can't protect him.”
“Well, I was hoping you'd take some of the slack for me. He listens to you.”
Marnie snorted.
“Marnie, I gather you're a drifter, but give some thought to what might keep you here.”
“Why?”
“Because,” he wiggled his eyebrows. “It's about time I develop my own women troubles.