“You want anything else?”
“Maybe another glass of wine,” Milan said.
Craig signaled for the waiter, who brought another bottle and filled their glasses.
“Thank you for dinner,” she said sweetly. She took a sip from her glass.
“It’s the least I could do. I wanted to clear the air between us.”
She lowered her fake lashes and puckered her polished lips. “We have a history, Craig, one that I can’t easily forget. I know I messed up. I only want you to forgive me and maybe...give us a second chance.”
He wrapped his hands around his glass. “Listen, Milan, like I’ve been telling you, there’s nothing to forgive. Really. What happened is in the past, and we’ve both moved on.”
“What if I haven’t?”
“That’s what I need you to understand, Milan. I didn’t ask you to take this role in the hopes of us getting back together. I wanted you for this part because you’re the best actor for it and I believe this will be a career changer for you.”
“Is it because of her?” she challenged.
Craig pushed out a breath and asked himself yet again why he had bothered. But Anthony kept at him to make peace with Milan before things turned ugly. So he’d asked her to dinner, to talk, to make the peace. Where he really wanted to be was with Jewel. It was nearly eleven. He’d promised he’d call her, and he hadn’t. If he were honest with himself, he would admit that part of the reason why he hadn’t called was that he felt himself moving into the deep end of the pool with Jewel. He could have taken Milan to lunch. But instead he took her to dinner to make things right between them. Now he regretted his decision.
“Well, is it?” Milan pressed.
Craig snapped back to attention. “Is it what?”
“Is it her? Is she the reason why there can’t be an us?” She placed her palms flat down on the table.
“Milan...” He shook his head in frustration and ran a hand across his chin. He leaned forward. “It can’t work.” He softened his voice. “It can’t. And it has nothing to do with her.”
Milan lifted her chin and turned her face away. “Fine,” she whispered.
“I need things to be cool between us. We have to work together. We have a job to do, and I am depending on you to make this movie a success,” he added, playing into her vanity.
“Fine,” she said again then turned to face him. “It’s getting late.” She made moves to get up.
“Look, there’s something you need to know before we get to the set.”
She stopped. “What?”
“The woman that you saw me with. She’s the owner of the house where we’ll be filming.”
* * *
It had been two days and she hadn’t heard from Craig. More than once she picked up her phone to call him but decided against it. Maybe it was for the best. She’d felt herself falling, but she’d caught herself before she hit bottom.
At least that’s what she told herself until the cavalcade of SUVs and equipment trucks arrived.
Jewel stepped out onto the landing of her house. Her heart raced. Car doors opened and shut. Her pulse thundered in her ears. Her eyes skipped over the moving bodies hoping to see him among them and not wanting to see him at the same time.
It was clear that after everyone had disembarked from the vehicles that Craig was not among them.
“Good morning, Ms. Fontaine,” Anthony greeted her, coming up on the landing and extending his hand.
Jewel shook his hand. “Nice to see you again. Well, I guess this is it, huh?” she said, watching the unloading process.
“I promise to make this as painless as possible. Today we’re going to get the exterior shots done. Unfortunately, tomorrow we’ll have to get started about 7:00 a.m., and we’ll be inside shooting most of the day.”
“Sure. Craig... Mr. Lawson gave me the schedule.”
“Great. As soon as the lighting techs set up, we’ll get started.”
“I’ll let you get to it. If you need anything, I’ll be upstairs.”
“Thanks. We’ll be fine. The equipment trunks are like home away from home. We have everything we need.” He turned away and began shouting orders to the crew who were now spread over her property like fire ants.
Disappointment mingled with relief. Jewel went back inside and shut the door behind her. Minerva met her in the foyer.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Jewel murmured. “Too late to second-guess.”
“Is he here?”
“Who?” she asked, although she knew exactly who Minerva meant. “No,” she conceded.
Minerva squeezed her shoulder. “And when he does show up, which he will, you’ll be just fine.”
Jewel smiled and continued on upstairs.
* * *
His plan was to lag behind so that by the time he arrived on set everything and everyone would be in place and ready. He would have no other choice than to get right to work. Work would consume his focus and all of his energies, and he wouldn’t have the time or opportunity to look for or spend time with Jewel. If he had his way, he’d spend all of his time with Jewel. But there was no room for distractions. And she was most definitely a distraction, in the best kind of way.
That was part two of his master plan. Part one was to keep his distance and not contact her. It had been hard as all hell, but he’d managed. He had to be totally focused on the film. The quicker he did his part, the sooner he could open his mind to his “distraction.” Two whole days, and it took all of his willpower to stay on task and not pick up the phone and call or get in his car and drive over. But he’d made a decision. There was too much on the line, and the person he needed to keep happy and appeased was Milan—for everyone’s sake.
After their dinner the other night when he’d told her who Jewel was, Milan had one of her epic tantrums, causing a major scene in the restaurant.
“You think I’m an idiot!” she’d screamed. “I know you’re screwing her. It’s what you do! Is this how you punish me—by throwing her in my face day after day!”
Every eye in the restaurant had been glued on them. He could tell by the expressions on some of their faces that they recognized Milan. Cell phones came out. This latest public display would be all over the internet in minutes.
Craig had taken her by the arm and hustled her out of there, trying to keep his head down while blasting Milan out under his breath. By this time she’d dissolved into hysterical tears.
She really was crazy. That was the only thought running through his head as he’d whisked her past the curious onlookers and into the waiting car.
He pushed the nightmarish episode out of his head as he pulled onto the Fontaine property and parked his Suburban behind the line of cars. He, as well as the attorneys, had advised Milan that any further public outbursts would result in her being removed from the project as a breach of the morals clause. Apparently when she’d signed on, she didn’t pay attention to the fine print. Knowing what Milan was capable of, Craig had had that little caveat included to protect him and the project.
But he couldn’t take chances on pushing any of Milan’s many buttons. She was crazy enough not to give a damn just to hurt him. Artists.
He hopped out of the car, scanning the grounds for any sight of Jewel. Part relief and part disappointment filled him. He strode toward Anthony. He had work to do, and he couldn’t do it with Jewel Fontaine on his mind.
* * *
Jewel watched the magic of moviemaking from the safety of her father’s bedroom window. Then Craig came into view. Her heart kicked up a beat. She gripped the edge of the window frame, willing him to look up and hoping that he didn’t.
She watched him orchestrate the symphony of people and equipment and was mesmerized by the flow of authority that he exuded.
“Who’s coming? I hear voices,” her father said.
Jewel turned away and went to her father’s easy chair that faced the back windows of the property. She knelt down beside him and took his hand.
“It’s okay, Daddy, just some folks in the yard. They’re making a movie.” She smiled at him.
Augustus’s cloudy eyes narrowed. “Whatchu mean, movie?”
“Some people thought that our house would look beautiful in a movie about an old Southern family.”
He grumbled and began to pat his hand on the arm of the chair. “Gotta be careful,” he hissed suddenly. “Be careful.”
“About what?”
He turned to her and blinked slowly. “I think I want toast this morning.”
Jewel sighed with a sad smile. She kissed his forehead. “Sure thing, Daddy, just the way you like it. Every day.”
“Good morning,” Minerva said from the doorway then walked in. She carried Augustus’s breakfast tray.
“Morning, Minerva. Let me help you with that.” She walked over and took the tray. Under her breath she said, “He seems okay about the hoopla downstairs. Just told me to be careful.” She laughed lightly.
“Father knows best, even when he doesn’t seem to know a thing,” she said in return. She took the tray back from Jewel and went to her charge.
Jewel frowned. She started to ask what she meant but decided that she couldn’t deal with two cryptic people and subliminal messages in one setting.
“I’m going down,” she announced.
Minerva waved, and Jewel swore she heard her father mumble something about some pretty young girl in his room.
She trotted downstairs and went into the living room. She turned on the television to catch the morning news with the hope of blocking her thoughts from the activity on the other side of her door. She settled on her local news channel just as the entertainment portion came on air. She’d made it a point to steer clear of celebrity news and social media sites after her own debacle on the world stage. But for now it was simply mindless activity. As usual there were the stories and images of celebrities doing what celebrities did. And then Craig’s face popped up on the screen in a box behind the newscaster’s head.
“Two nights ago, award-winning filmmaker and New Orleans’ own prodigal son Craig Lawson was seen up close and personal with his leading lady, Milan Chase, as they left the Brasserie Restaurant after what appeared to be a lovers’ spat.” The screen flashed images of them hustling out of the restaurant and into a black car, with Craig holding on tightly to Milan’s arm. “As many of you know, Lawson and Chase were a big item several years ago when she had a small role in one of his films. Neither of their reps were available for comment. But we can’t help but wonder if the explosive couple will be another Brad and Angie.”
The woman’s voice droned on about the next hot item, but Jewel had stopped listening. She felt sick. Her temples pounded. Two nights ago, he’d promised to call. Two nights ago she’d poured her soul into recreating him on canvas, almost as an homage to what was blooming between them. Two nights ago, he was with her. He was no different than Simon. He hung around for as long as it suited him. What she felt didn’t matter.
She pressed her fist to her mouth, but it barely held back the sob that escaped. What a fool she’d been. She’d fallen for the voice, the swagger, the looks, the touches, the sex and the aura of mystery. But she shouldn’t have. They’d agreed. It was just a temporary thing. Little did she know that to him temporary only meant days. He and that woman had a history. They had the kind of life that she’d given up. There was no way that she could compete with that, and she wouldn’t.
Jewel wiped her eyes, reached for the remote and turned the television off. Gotta be careful. Be careful. Maybe her father knew and understood more than she did.