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A Week Later
With the stacked picnic basket in her grip, Sierra walked through Hugh’s office door at Brannix to find Dash sitting in the recliner with his feet on the desk. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Dash sauntered toward her in a white blazer with the sleeves rolled up and beige pants. “Let me help with that.”
“No.” She moved the basket away. “I don’t need your help. Why are you here?”
“I needed to talk to Hugh about the movie.” He put his hands in his pockets and rocked on the heels of his leather loafers. “Why are you here?”
“I made Hugh some lunch. Thought we could have a picnic.”
He had a slight frown as if he were masking his displeasure. “Isn’t that sweet?”
“Where is he?”
“Running around like a chicken with his head cut off.” Dash sat on the edge of the desk. “I don’t know what smells better, you or what’s in the basket. Smells like your famous herb-fried chicken.”
She grinned; flattered he remembered her favorite recipe.
“I’ve dreamt of tasting that chicken again.” He gazed at her flowy, red and white summer dress that hit mid-thigh. “There’s another thing of yours I miss tasting.”
“And with that, I’m gone.” She went to the door. “Tell Hugh I stopped by and if he wants to join me, I’ll be in the park. He knows which one.”
“Eating a picnic lunch alone? Sierra.” Dash got off the desk. “You are too
amazing of a woman to ever eat alone.” He patted his six-pack. “Besides, I’m starving and your fried chicken is my kryptonite.”
“That’s too bad because you’ll never get a taste of me or my chicken again. Tell Hugh where I’ll be.”
“That would be a waste of time.” He clasped his hands, holding them low. “As busy as he is he won’t make it. Something tells me you’re used to that though. Gotta be tired of it.” His eyes flashed. “Right?”
“He’s trying to put a blockbuster movie together.” She straightened the basket. “I appreciate that.”
“You’re seething, Sierra. I know you. You crave attention.” He approached her, stopping so close his cappuccino breath grazed her face. “When we were together, you couldn’t get enough of me.”
“Contrary to popular belief, Dash, you aren’t the lothario you think you are.”
“I still get to you.” He peeked down her cleavage. “Your nipples are hard, aren’t they?”
“Not for you,” she lied.
“Then who for?” He moved back. “Come on. This game’s getting old. Why don’t we have our own little picnic at my ranch?”
“Your ranch?”
“You remember it.” He licked the corner of his mouth. “And, all the times we spent there.”
She looked away, clearing her throat.
“The first time we made love...” He nodded. “Was at the ranch. Surely, you haven’t forgotten that.”
“We could’ve spent our lives having more wonderful moments if you’d be man enough not to give a damn what people think of you.”
“Unlike you, not caring what others think is a luxury I can’t afford.”
“Dash, you’re a superstar.”
“I’m a superstar who’s worked damn hard to get respect, and I won’t let people use my choices against me.”
“You’re unbelievable. How can you say that shit to my face?”
“I’m being straight up. Isn’t that what you want?”
“We can’t go back to how things were before. I want more.” She shut her eyes. “I deserve more.”
“Horseback riding, seclusion and us chowing down on your herb-fried chicken.” He held out his hand. “Let’s go to the ranch and have the most romantic picnic you’ve ever dreamed of.”
“Are you nuts?” She grimaced, glaring at his hand. “Do you not get where I stand? I won’t be your whore, Dash.”
“You were never my whore.” He flinched. “How could you say that?”
“That’s what it felt like whenever you’d take me to bed and then go running off into the night like it didn’t matter.”
“This is Hollywood, Sierra.” He slapped his thighs. “You don’t have your reputation then you got nothing. You of all people should understand what happens when people lose respect for...”
She gasped.
“Wait.” He shook his head, grabbing her. “I didn’t mean that like it sounded.”
“Let go of me.”
“Sierra, I didn’t mean that.”
“Let go.” She broke free. “And, fuck you.”
“Sierra, wait.”
She rushed out the office.
“Sierra!”
****
“Jesus, spit it out, Lessie.” Gabrielle got apple juice out the fridge. “What’s the deal?”
She sighed through the speaker of Gabrielle’s cell phone. “I’ve never been one to mince words.”
“Then don’t start now.” Gabrielle sipped the tangy juice right out the container.
“I don’t want you to get upset.”
“Upset?” Gabrielle laughed. “I’m happier than I’ve been in weeks. I just signed a contract for millions to be Iris International’s spokesmodel. Nothing you say could bring me down.” She twirled in a circle, holding the apple juice. “I’m on top of the world, and Futero can kiss my ass.”
“I have something to tell you about Iris International.”
“What?” Gabrielle set the container on her kitchen island. “Please don’t tell me they’ve changed their mind. Are they dumping me?”
“No, they’re not dumping you. They’re ecstatic that someone of your caliber came onboard.”
“But?” Gabrielle tapped her long nails against the countertop.
“It turns out that Hugh Macintosh is a partner of Iris International.”
Gabrielle leaned over on her elbows. “What did you say?”
“Gabby, I had no idea he was involved in the business. I’d have told you—”
“Wait.” She stood straight, clenching the edge of the counter. “God.”
“I know this is a surprise, but it doesn’t matter.”
“Bullshit it doesn’t matter. Hugh is the reason Iris offered me a contract.”
“No, Gabby—”
“Wake up, Lessie. Damn him. I told him to stay out of my life.”
“Iris wants you regardless.”
“Well, I don’t want them anymore. No. This is just a way for Hugh to control me and I won’t let that happen. Call Iris and tell them I want out.”
“You signed the contract and you’re due to film the first commercial in a week. There’s no way you can get out.”
“I won’t be in debt to Hugh Macintosh.” Gabrielle paced. “I’d rather be broke and homeless than to take anything from that man.”
“They’ll sue if we pull out now.”
“I don’t care.”
“You’ll care if you have to pay millions of dollars for breaching the contract.”
“I was tricked.” Gabrielle held her hip. “We can get the lawyers on this.”
“First, why don’t you talk to Iris and find out if Hugh had something to do with this or not? Gabby, there aren’t many options out there for you as a model anymore. Don’t throw this away without knowing the facts. Iris is giving you another shot and it might be your last.”
“It’s either stand up for my beliefs or sell my soul to the devil?”
“Talk to the company and at least get the truth.”
“I have a better idea.” Gabrielle wrapped her fingers around the apple juice container. “I’ll talk to the devil himself.”