Fast Glamour Part 8

Sterling.

I'd made my decision and Dad had made his. There were few personal items in my office at Legend Films that I needed to take with me and I was here to collect them. I picked up a picture of Amanda, Rhiannon, Maeve, and me when we were kids. The four of us stood between my Mom and Dad. The three girls wore Mickey Mouse ears and I held a giant container of popcorn. These were the memories I wanted to keep. I placed the framed photo into the box on my desk.

"I hear you went to Montecito and saw Elizabeth Montgomery about financing The Lady's Regret?" Dad leaned against the doorframe of my soon-to-be-former office.

Ignoring his comment, I said, "She told me that Mom and Tom Bliss stayed in Montecito a few times when they were working on the script."

The muscle in Dad's jaw flinched. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but he changed his mind. He turned away from me and looked over at the framed poster of The Legend Returns that hung on my office wall. "That was a long time ago," Dad said, quietly. "I'm not sure where they went."

"Elizabeth said they stayed at the Montgomerys'," I said. "I remember Mom being gone, but I don't remember where you were."

"Sterling, that wasn't the best time in our lives, nor in your mother's and my marriage. If you remember, your sister had some story that she created-"

My gaze hardened. Dad needed to stop. Amanda didn't make up any story. I knew from my own eyes that what had been going on between Dad and our nanny had been going on for years. I had been too much of a coward to say anything, but my little sister was courageous enough to tell Mom.

"How is Anita?" I asked. "You two still in touch?" My question was a jab. We Legends usually didn't ask the uncomfortable questions. But I was tired of protecting Dad and pretending that he was a good guy when actually he was an a.s.shole most of the time. An a.s.shole who was now trying to crush my film.

"We speak, yes," Dad said. "I don't know that it's any of your business."

"Really, the woman you were having an ongoing affair with in our home while married to Mom? That's none of my business?" I tossed a script into the box on my desk. I didn't usually subscribe to scorched-earth tactics with Dad, but I knew why he was here. I could see it coming. Heat rose in my belly and I felt the need to air some of the bulls.h.i.t that Amanda and I had been carrying for years out in the open. "Working in the Business you hear a lot of things," I said. "Seems like Mom put up with a whole lot of your indiscretions."

"Sterling, your mother knew what she was getting before she married me. We dated for a very long time. In fact, we lived together for a while. She was an actress and I was an actor. There were no surprises where my life was concerned. Believe me, putting on a wedding ring does not change a man."

My heart seized in my chest. My father was admitting to his long-standing infidelity. A desire to bounce my fist against his face pulsed through me, but we'd traveled that road once before-the fight had been over the same woman and for similar reasons.

The only new thing that Dad admitted was that Mom had known about his affairs and had given her tacit acquiescence. A hall pa.s.s so that he could f.u.c.k anything that moved? I wasn't certain that what he said was true. I knew that Mom had loved Amanda and me with an unflinching and unwavering love, and if she'd thought growing up with married parents was better for us she would have stayed with my father, no matter what the cost or humiliation to herself.

"She got what she wanted," Dad said. "She was married to the biggest star in the world. She lived in the biggest home in the hills. We went on great vacations. Press. Beautiful children. The deal was a good one until she changed the rules."

My head snapped up. "How? What do you mean?"

Dad shrugged. "Women are more complex than men, they change. Men don't." He stepped into my office. "You're not letting this go." Temper flashed across his famous face. "You're going to try to make this f.u.c.king film, even though I've asked you not to."

"Dad, you never asked," I said. I crossed my arms. "You told me that if I made it I was fired."

He lifted one shoulder and his gaze traveled past me and out the window. "Right," he said. "Then why the f.u.c.k are you here?"

I turned my gaze to him. His eyes reflected that Legend temper even if his face remained placid and still.

"Seriously?"

He said nothing. I collected my wallet, my keys, and my box of personal items. "What is it about this film? I didn't ask you to finance it, be in it, do anything for it. I get that you don't like The Lady's Regret and that the project is tied to uncomfortable memories of Mom, but why the h.e.l.l are you and Tom Bliss so determined that this film never get made?"

"Tom?" Dad said as though I'd hit him in the nose. "Tom Bliss?"

I nodded. "He's going to destroy the screenplay once the option lapses. No one is ever going to make this movie if it doesn't get made now." I stepped closer to my father. I examined his hard face with my eyes. "Mom wanted to make this film-it was going to be a comeback for her. This is what she wanted when she died, so why can't you let it go and let me get on with it?"

"There are some things that are better put to rest. You're not making this movie."

"The h.e.l.l I'm not," I said. My anger heated my chest. I'd spent my life yielding to my father's needs. We all had, Amanda, me, even Mom. We'd traveled the world for his film career, always appearing as the perfect family. All without ever dropping the Legend facade. All without ever telling anyone who Steve Legend actually was and how he behaved. We'd listened to him rant and rave and rant some more. We did all that for him and he didn't care. He didn't say thank you. He simply acted as if our compliance with his wishes was expected, and that we would ignore his horrible behavior and pretend it wasn't happening.

I'd continued to enable Dad's bad behavior well into adulthood. Even after Mom died. I was on set for every Steve Legend film. I talked Dad down. I soothed the director's feelings. I smoothed things over with the cast and crew after his horrible tantrums. In a way, I was the guy that made his life on set livable-even possible.

He clasped his hand on my shoulder and his eyes held a hint of love and softness and then they closed over again into anger. "Son, I love you. I truly do. But you need to know that I am going to use every bit of influence I can muster to make certain you never, ever make this film."

I remained stoic, but inside my nerves were on edge. Dad was a Legend. Truly. His box office was in the billions, and he'd survived Hollywood for decades. He had a lot of friends with a lot of pull, and if he put his full weight behind something he could make anything happen Right now, I hated him. He was a selfish b.a.s.t.a.r.d who did whatever he wanted, thinking only of himself with complete and utter disregard for anyone else, including his family.

"You know what, Dad? For the first time in my life, I don't care what you think. Go try to scare someone else." With that, I shifted the box in my arms and walked out the door *

I was now unemployed or, perhaps self-employed was a more accurate description. My heart was still pounding as I gripped the steering wheel, but I felt good. I put my car in reverse and hit the accelerator.

On my way to Venice, my phone rang and I pressed the hands-free b.u.t.ton and accepted the call. "h.e.l.lo?"

"I have Mike Fox for Sterling Legend," the cheery voice said on the end of the line.

"This is Sterling, put him through."

I waited. I still felt unsettled after what had just happened between me and Dad and I had a good guess as to why Worldwide's President of Production was calling me. I wasn't the President of Legend Pictures anymore, or the producer of their biggest franchise. I had one small piece of business with Worldwide, and it was a piece of business that Worldwide's biggest star didn't want anyone to have.

"Hey, Sterling," Mike said. Regret tinged his voice. The moment of regret before the kill shot.

"What's up, Mike?" I kept my voice light. I wouldn't make this easy for him. I wouldn't let him out simply because Dad was being a bully.

"I need to let you know that we can't take foreign on The Lady's Regret."

"Why not?"

There was a distinct pause. Not many people actually questioned the president of a studio when they told you how things were going to be, but I needed to hear it. I wanted to hear whatever excuse Mike had prepared-if he'd readied any excuse at all. Besides, I was not going to make this easy for him.

"Because your father is too valuable to p.i.s.s off," Mike said.

"Wow, I'm impressed. I definitely didn't expect the truth." My project was being killed but at least it was being killed honestly.

"Why bulls.h.i.t you? You know your dad, you know The Lady's Regret is aces, you know I love it and I want to help you make it but, quite simply, money talks."

"And when it's Steve Legend it talks even louder."

Mike laughed. "Man, you know about Jennifer, too? Right?"

"Not yet, but I'm guessing she's being offered an amazing role with a giant payday."

"We went out to Jennifer for the lead in a big film."

"Come on Mike? Really? No f.u.c.king way, you're offering her The Legend Kills?"

"I did not say that."

"You don't have to. You've already approached my director and getting Jennifer is the obvious way to completely destroy The Lady's Regret. Jennifer will say yes because she wants to work with Cami, and Cami will say yes because she has to say yes to a hundred million dollar budget and a huge franchise film. I mean she's a woman; they don't get offered action films. Nice f.u.c.king play."

"Your dad plays the game to win, Sterling, he always has."

"Yeah," I said. "Winning." Losing, for a Legend, was nearly unbearable. I was a Legend. I wasn't going to sit around and let Dad get the best of me.

"He is very astute, your dad."

"You say astute, I say ..." I stopped myself. It wasn't the Legend way to air our dirty laundry to the world. "Right. Okay. Thanks."

"Good luck, Sterling. Steve mentioned that he hoped you'd come back and produce The Legend Kills now that The Lady's Regret is on hold. I can't imagine anyone managing those films, the set, and your father better than you."

"Yeah, thanks, Mike. I've had a lifetime to learn how to manage Dad."

The line went dead as I turned onto my street. I pulled into my drive. The call from Mike hadn't been a big surprise because, well, it was Dad, and he was used to winning, no matter what it took. But the woman standing on my front step with the long blonde hair wearing a white sundress and sandals, now that was a surprise. Seeing Rhiannon standing on my front steps was something I had not expected.

Chapter 12.

Rhiannon.

The wide-open s.p.a.ce of Sterling's home attracted my eyes. Deep lush dark woods combined with grey slate floors and gla.s.s windows created an open floor plan that was minimalist, yet cozy. Sterling's new home would feel cold and hard if not for the art on the walls. I walked toward the fireplace.

"Is that the Pica.s.so?"

"It is. Dad gave to Mom and she left it to me."

The urge to caress the master's brushstrokes flew through me. My fingertips tingled. I kept my hands at my sides and turned away from the priceless piece of art. An air of defeat hovered around Sterling. Was it my unannounced presence in his home? What had I expected? I'd not called or texted or contacted him at all after our night together.

"You seem ... upset," I said.

"Ha!" Sterling said. He turned away from me and walked through the open living room to the kitchen. He took out two beers and opened both. "That is an understatement." He handed me one of the beers and looked out through the windows toward the ocean. He placed one hand on his hip. "Dad just torpedoed my movie."

"The Lady's Regret?"

"That very one," Sterling said. He tilted the beer to his lips. Irritation and anger were coming off him in waves. "Your dad and my dad are determined that the film never get made."

"I think there are a number of people who would be pleased if the film never got made."

Sterling turned to me, his eyes hot with anger. "Why is that?"

"Because the script was born out of pain."

"And what about us, Rhiannon? Our relationship was born at the same time. Is that why you ran from me and continue to run from us? Is that why you can't answer my questions?"

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"But you did." His gaze held me still. I couldn't leave because I didn't want to leave. My insides were torn between my desire to be with Sterling and my fear at committing to him.

"I have something to show you." Sterling turned from the window and I wordlessly followed him up the open stairs to the second floor. We walked down the hallway and he opened a door.

Air burst from my lips. This was Sterling's bedroom.

Confusion, desire, ache rushed through me as I gazed at his giant bed. A bed that caused fear and want to collide within me. He closed the door and my heart beat faster.

I twirled around to face him. "Sterling, I-"

My gaze darted from his face to just past where he stood. My giant painting of the view from the Malibu plateau hung on his bedroom wall.

"Oh, my G.o.d, you did buy it."

"At your suggestion." I walked closer to the painting and nearer to Sterling. "Does it make you happy that I look at your work when I wake up and then again before my day ends?"

His words felt like a caress and were a bold intimation that I was always with him in his bedroom. Heat shimmered through me. Sterling stood so close to me. My want for him, like a living thing, wound around us both and made it impossible for me to move. My body was all betrayal, and the heat coiled through me and caused the familiar ache between my legs. Sterling stepped closer to me and his body skimmed mine. His breath stroked my skin. A breeze that further inflamed the fire within me.

"You are always with me," Sterling said. His hand grasped the back of my neck. "Even when I'm alone."

He pulled me forward and his lips claimed mine. This kiss seared. Not a tentative kiss. No soft desire inhabited this kiss. This kiss was all heat and need. He pressed forward, his lips greedy upon mine, and my body surrendered. I pressed myself against him. His hard maleness reminded me of what I wanted, what I'd yet to have. His tongue pressed into my mouth. He gripped my bare shoulder and his other hand pulled the skirt of my dress up and over my head. My maxi dress fell to the floor.

"Don't you ever wear a bra?" His voice was rough with want and his hand grasped my breast. He bent his head and licked the edge of my nipple. Fire swept through me. Wet pooled between my legs. He pulled me deep into his mouth, the heat of his tongue rolling my nipple. My knees weakened and I threw my head back with pleasure.

"Sterling, oh my G.o.d, Sterling."

In response to my words and the slow grinding of my hips against his hard s.e.x, his hands slid down my belly and traced the lace of my panties. My hips. .h.i.tched forward and pressed against him. His fingers slipped down the front of my panties.

"You feel this, Rhiannon, you can't ignore this. You can pretend that you don't want us, but you can't ignore your body."

His hand slid up my skin to my hip. He pulled my panties over my hips and they dropped to the floor. He turned my body so that my bare back faced him. He pushed my hair over my shoulder. His kiss on the back of my neck sent tendrils of heat cascading down my spine. His hands stroked the side of my body.

"I remember your body. I remember your body in my dreams, as though we've been together every day since you ran away. Do you know how many women I've f.u.c.ked to try and get that memory out of my mind?"

I closed my eyes. His hands skimmed over my belly and his fingers teased the edge of my s.e.x. His lips worked the back of my neck and his fingers slid to the edge of my cleft. My hips rocked forward and back for the pleasure his fingers and hard c.o.c.k provided.

"How many, Sterling?" I asked. "How many women have you been with to try and forget me?"

"Hundreds," Sterling said. His lips now moved down the vertebrae of my back. His hand slid over my bare a.s.s. "What about you, my darling little Rhiannon, how many men have you been with since you left me?"

A hint of anger clung to his words.

"Not many," I whispered out on heated breath. G.o.d, I wanted him. I wanted him to enter me, and take me.

His hand reached around to my front and his fingertips pulled at my nipple while he kissed my back.

"How many?" His tone was more insistent. One finger squeezed my nipple. I opened my eyes. We now stood beside his bed and on the far wall was a mirror. I caught his gaze in the reflection. He wanted to know, he needed to know. His hand slipped over my belly and he slipped one finger into the cleft of my s.e.x. My breath shortened. His finger skimmed the top of my engorged c.l.i.t. Heat exploded through me.