23
I HAVE CONFIDENCE
“OKAY, DYLAN, WE want these forty-two seconds to convey casual sophistication, effortless masculinity, and a polished confidence that every gentleman wants. We’ll start with you lounging against the end of the bar, blurred out, with the bottle…here,” the director, Gary, said. He was a tall, reedy guy with thick-rimmed glasses and long grey hair tied at the nape of his neck. He then pointed to the props master, who was positioning the whiskey bottle that sat on the bar top beside my left arm to face toward the cameraman. “Got it?”
I nodded. Yep, got it.
I’d been looking forward to this shoot all week. It was my first commercial on this scale and magnitude, and I was excited to see how it played out. Setup was much like a mini movie. When I’d arrived at the Edison, I’d been shown into a room for makeup, hair, and wardrobe, and once I’d donned the pristine Dolce & Gabbana suit I’d been ushered out to the bar, where a tight-knit crew was scurrying around to get everything into position for the first scene of the day. There were between twelve to fifteen people setting up equipment, as I listened to the directions being given to me.
The basic gist of the shoot was to make the alcohol appear to be the elixir that would turn any average Joe into a bold and suave man about town. Ace had told me to channel my inner Sinatra, and I had to admit, I was thinking about that bygone era as I stood there in the muted lights of the bar, with the smooth sound of a piano playing from somewhere off behind me.
“Okay, we’re just about ready here, Dylan. You good?”
“Yes. Ready when you are.”
“Perfect,” Gary said as he walked backward toward the cameraman, boom operator, and producer. Two guys were up behind the lights, and when everything went quiet, I got my cue.
Yes. This right here was what I was born to do. I loved the quick no-nonsense, in-and-out—usually in one day—world of modeling. You came to set, were made up exactly the way they wanted you, and then you were shown where to stand and then the photographer, or cameraman in this case, positioned themselves, and you unleashed your magic.
Unlike moviemaking, this came naturally to me. Modeling was all about knowing your angles, the best light, how to use what God had given you to project the emotion the designer, producer, or company who had hired you were after. And luckily for me, I seemed to have a knack for that. No words were usually needed, no script to memorize, just the right twinkle in your eyes, the right cock of your chin, curl of your lips, or come get me now pout, and the photographer snapped, snapped, snapped, until he was shouting—
“Brilliant, Dylan! That was exactly what we wanted. Barely an extra take in there.”
And only six hours later…that was a wrap.
I’d headed back to the small room I’d changed in earlier, and was in the middle of hanging my tailored slacks on the hanger when my cell phone started to ring on the small loveseat backed up to the far wall. I zipped up my jeans and glanced over to see Ace’s name and number lighting up my screen, and when I picked it up I couldn’t help the smile that crossed my lips.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on your way to a meeting, hotshot?”
“I am,” Ace said with a jangle of keys accompanying his voice, letting me know he was probably headed to his car as he spoke. “I just wanted to call and see how the commercial went today.”
Uh huh, sure you did. More like he was calling to make sure a certain woman hadn’t shown up, stalked me, called me, or popped out of a bush somewhere.
It’d been nearly a week now since Brenda had shown up at my apartment to blackmail Ace into keeping her silence about my past, and though it had taken me a couple of days to stop looking around every corner, paranoid that the boogeyman was going to spring out and ruin my life, I’d finally started to believe she’d listened to Ace’s threat and fucked off for good.
That didn’t make me feel any less guilty over what she’d tried to do. The memory of her demanding millions to keep from spreading her venom made me shudder every time I thought about it. But after much persuasion from Ace, I’d done my best to push it aside, and it finally seemed that things were settling down again.
“The commercial went great. Everyone here was wonderful, and you will soon see me sipping whiskey from a lowball down at the Edison.” Ace’s hum of approval came through the phone as I took my short-sleeved button-up off the hanger and slipped into it. “Oh and ahh…I may, or may not, have been given a few cases of the good stuff to take home with me. Soooo, can I persuade you with a bottle of Blue Label to come and help me move the rest of my furniture out tonight?”
“Hmm, I don’t know…” Ace said as his Lamborghini’s locks beeped. Then I heard a door open and shut and he was back. “Can I lick it off you?”
Yes, please. “I’m sure if you were available to help me, then that could be arranged.”
“In that case, how about I meet you there after my meeting?” he suggested, just as he must’ve turned over the ignition. As the car roared to life, I groaned in his ear.
“I swear, every time I hear that car turn on I get hard.”
“That makes two of us. You made this vehicle very difficult for me to drive, Daydream.”
I leaned my shoulders back against the wall and grinned. “Are you complaining?”
“Fuck no. Best three million dollars I ever spent.”
“Holy shit,” I said.
Ace made a sound that was half purr and half growl, but one hundred percent animalistic. “Oh, there was nothing holy about what you did to me on this car.”
I forced my eyes shut and lowered my hand to my stiffening cock. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
“I know. I know. Give me a couple of hours and I’m all yours.”
I nodded, and then switched gears, wanting to know how he felt about the meeting he was headed to today. He hadn’t said much other than he was going to go.
“You excited?” I asked.
“About meeting with Ronaldo Mendez?”
“Yeah. I mean, you’ve never met him before, right? It was nice of Alejandro to set this up. He’s a pretty big name.”
“Try one of the biggest,” Ace said.
“I’d be super nervous.”
“Uhh, thanks—”
“No. No. I don’t mean it like that. It’s just he’s Ronaldo Mendez, mega producer. That’s huge.”
I heard Ace let out a sigh, and imagined him rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “It is. Honestly, though, I’m trying not to get too excited. Things haven’t exactly been going my way lately, so I’ll go and check out what he has to say. But I’m not going to stress about it.”
I hated that. I hated that Ace was feeling that way. But it wasn’t like he hadn’t warned me this would happen, and most of the time it didn’t even seem to bother him, especially when it was just me and him together. However, that didn’t stop the stab of guilt I felt whenever someone called to tell him he was dropped from yet another movie or sponsorship.
It all seemed so unfair. Here I was doing better than ever because of Ace and my connection to him, while his career and life crumbled because of me. It made a person stand back and really look at their self-worth and what they had to offer, because in the end that was all I had to give him. And I hoped like hell every day that that was enough.
“Just see what he has to say—you never know in this town what’s going to happen from one day to the next. And weren’t you the one who told me it’s all about who you know and your connections?”
Ace laughed. “Throwing my own words of wisdom back at me?”
“Yep. He wouldn’t have called you and set up a meeting if he wasn’t interested. So, go see what his project is. See if it’s something you’re interested in or something-—”
“Ridiculous?”
“Ace…”
“Okay, okay,” he said. “I’m going, and I’ll approach the meeting with an open mind.”
“Good,” I said, happy to hear a touch of humor at the end there. “And Ace?”
“Yeah?”
“When you’re finished, hurry home to my place. I’ll be waiting.”
After we said our goodbyes and ended the call, I checked my hair in the mirror and that my clothes were in order before I picked up my backpack and headed for the door. It was time to head over to my apartment and finish to say my goodbyes.
* * *
AS I SLOWED my car to a crawl, I made my way past the enormous houses located in the gated Beverly Park community and turned onto Beverly Park Lane.
God, the neighborhood in which I lived housed some impressive homes of the rich and famous, but some of these sprawled farther than the eye could possibly hope to see. When I found the number I was looking for, I brought my vehicle to a stop at the massive gate, which was flanked by two stone pillars, and illuminated by a Tudor light on each side. There was a camera mounted up top one of those thick columns, and one aimed in the general direction of my car’s license plate. As I sat there, waiting to be screened or checked by whoever was at the other end of those security devices, I looked around at the dense foliage flanking the perimeter of the stone wall, which extended out to the left and right of each pillar.
Palm trees, ferns, and creeping ivy that was close to overtaking most of the exposed wall gave the home an extra barrier against anyone who might wish to camp out front and take photos of whoever was beyond the gates. In less than two minutes, I would guess, there was a clunking sound and then the wrought iron yawned open, inviting me to proceed forward.
Okay, so I’d told Dylan before I left that I hadn’t been feeling the nerves. But, the truth be told, as I drove up the paved driveway flanked by a perfectly manicured lawn and thick-trunked palm trees, my hands were sweating and my heart was thumping.
This was a huge opportunity being offered up to me. Of this, I was aware. A meeting with Ronaldo Mendez was notoriously difficult to get, and when Alejandro had called to tell me his father had wanted a meet-and-greet, I’d barely believed it.
Life was always throwing you curves, new twists and turns in your journey, and in my professional life I’d been told from the get-go that sometimes it was all about connections. But this? This seemed crazy. Unreal, even. Considering the way I knew this particular connection could never be discussed in a public setting due to binding contracts and the fear of being sued. It was still hard to believe that out of that sex-filled, fantasy-fueled night had come a “masked” opportunity I could never have seen coming…or uh, had seen coming, as it were.
Either way, Alejandro had really come through in getting me behind the famous gates of the Tuscan Vineyard Estate to see his father.
And now that I was here, I was determined to do everything in my power to make an impression.
I climbed out of my car, and as I shut the door behind me, I closed my eyes for a moment and let the afternoon sun warm me.
I can do this. I’ve done this a hundred times over. Just walk in there and sell Ace Locke, the action star. Right. The one thing tripping me up, though, was that lately no one had wanted Ace Locke the action star.
Trying to squash that train of thought, I adjusted my navy-blue sports coat and checked that I looked presentable. Matching pressed slacks, white open-collared shirt, and my brand new pair of black Ferragamo derbies. I was good to go.
I walked up the stairs and headed toward the double-wide glass and iron doors, and just as I reached them and would’ve rung the bell, a short, portly woman appeared and opened the door.
She was in black from her short, bobbed hair to her leather-covered toes. Her complexion was olive, tanned skin, with wrinkles creasing the corners of her eyes when she smiled up at me, and I would guess she was in her late forties or early fifties.
“Ahh, welcome, Mr. Locke. Mr. Mendez has been expecting you.”
“Thank you,” I said, returning her smile and waiting to see if she would give her name.
“I’m Maria. I look after the home for the Mendezes and have for years. My husband tends to the yard and keeps the workers who tend to the vines in line.”
“Well, you both do a wonderful job, Maria. This place is beautiful.”
“Thank you. Come in, come in. Mr. Mendez is in the study. I told him I’d bring you straight through. So please, follow me.”
And off she went. She turned on the heels of her flats and walked forward, leading me into a massive rectangular grand entrance where a wooden carved entry table sat with photos upon photos of the famous family who lived there. I stepped around it, and continued forward on marble floors so shiny they reflected the chandelier above. I couldn’t help but look up at the huge white columns and archways to the second story.
Wow, this place was something else.
“This way, Mr. Locke,” Maria said, taking the three steps up to the middle of the rectangular space that had a door all the way on the far side of it and two ramps that led up to the second level. She took the left, heading up the gradual incline, and I was quick to follow, not wanting to be caught gawking at the stunning spread.
When she reached the second level and walked toward the far end of the left side, she stopped at a closed door and knocked twice. I waited beside her, willing my pulse to slow down, because it was threatening to make me pass out, and then I heard a famously familiar voice call out, “Yes. Come in,” and Maria pushed open the door and said, “Good luck.”
Ohhh, yeah. I’m gonna need it, I thought, walking into a room that was much darker than the brightly lit entryway. As I glanced around the room, the rich cherry-wood-paneled walls automatically created a warm and inviting feel.
On every wall was a painting I had no doubt was worth more than most people made in a year, and littered around the room were antiques that were placed to look worldly and sophisticated, and had probably been painstakingly picked out by an overpaid home decorator.
I stopped and let my eyes adjust to the sunlight streaming through the window, and as my eyes traveled the room, they finally spotted a dark head of hair on a man seated on a couch facing the fireplace.
“Ace Locke. Come in and shut the door, son. We have much to talk about.”
And without a moment’s hesitation, I did just that, wondering where this next twist in the road would take me.
* * *
UGH, I WAS a nervous wreck. It’d been three and a half hours since I’d spoken to Ace, and I’d already exhausted the options on TV, showered, changed into the spare shorts and t-shirt, and still had time to bite all the nails on my right hand down to nubs.
Where was he? I was dying to know how things had gone. But so far I’d heard nada. No text, no call, no missed voicemail when I was showering. Hell, maybe these things always took this long; I didn’t know.
I glanced at the time—it had just turned seven thirty, and I was hoping we’d be able to order in and have a final picnic of sorts to say goodbye to this place, but if he didn’t get here soon, I was gonna go grab some grub and start without him. I was starving.
I was just getting up to start a new round of pacing when there was a loud knock on my door. With a huge grin on my face, I raced over to it and was sure to check the peephole after the whole Brenda situation, and when I saw the back of Ace’s broad shoulders, my breath caught and I quickly unlatched and unlocked the door.
When I swung it open, he turned to face me with his hands in the pockets of his dress slacks, looking all cool and casual and sexy.
“Hey there, handsome,” I said by way of greeting, and as Ace sauntered forward, I noticed the proud set of his shoulders, the cocky swagger to his walk, and when he stopped beside me to brush his lips to mine, the confidence in his eyes had my knees close to buckling.
“Hi yourself, Daydream.”
The husky timbre of his voice did all kinds of shit to my brain and cock, but it was the spark in his eyes that was really wreaking havoc on every nerve in my body.
“Come in,” I managed, and Ace knew exactly the effect he was having on me, because his lips curved on top of mine and he raised his brows.
“Come in…where?”
I brought the hand that was resting by my side to his chest and chuckled. “How about we start with my apartment?”
“And then…”
Well…someone was in a mood. I shoved him back a little, and when he winked at me, I blushed. I actually fucking blushed. “And then you just might get lucky.”
“I am feeling lucky today,” Ace said, and slicked his tongue across his lower lip before he walked inside the apartment. I slowly closed the door and took in a deep breath.
Hot damn, he had my brain scrambled and all off kilter as I tried to remember what exactly I’d been dying to ask him. I relocked the door and rounded back to see him sitting on my couch with his arms spread across the back, his jacket hanging open, and his legs kicked out in front of him.
“Why don’t you come sit over here with me?” he said, and I didn’t know what was going on here, but a wave of shyness swept over me. “Dylan…come ’ere,” Ace said, his voice dropping down to that tone that stroked all the right places, and I sank my teeth into my lip.
What was going on with me? I felt as though I was tripping all over myself. Clumsy. Totally off my game. And all because Ace was here? And that was when it clicked. That was the difference.
Ace was here. Ace Locke. The movie star. Mr. Confident. Mr. Blow Them Up, Sex on Legs, Save the Day was sitting on my old couch looking at me like he wanted to strip me naked and eat me for dinner.
And that was when I remembered exactly what I’d been going to ask him. How his meeting had gone. But judging by the man I was looking at, it had gone well. Very well.
“Good meeting today?” I asked.
Ace nodded and crooked his finger at me again. “Come over here and I’ll tell you about it.”
As I walked over to him, I took in a breath and marveled again that he was here with me. That he was mine, and when I finally sat down beside him and he pulled me as close to his side as he could get me, I laughed at myself.
“Why are you acting like you just met me all of a sudden?” he asked.
I angled my face up to him and gave a wry grin. “You’re throwing off that whole larger-than-life vibe, and it’s—”
Ace leaned in and swept my mouth up in a delicious kiss that had me turning into his body and bringing a hand up to touch his cheek while he wrapped his arm around me. When he was finally done destroying any capacity to think, he pulled back and I blinked a couple of times to get him into focus.
“Fuck,” I said, touching the base of his throat with my fingertip. “Just give me a minute to remember how to think.”
That made Ace laugh. “You’re seriously adorable right now, Daydream.”
“Yeah? Well, when you come in all Ace Locke movie star,” I said adopting my best movie announcer voice, “I tend to forget that I get to sleep with you each night. It makes me stupid.”
“Not stupid…cute, sexy, and a little shy, apparently.”
I rolled my eyes at him, and when that only made him laugh harder, I huffed. “Oh, cut it out.”
“But it’s so funny. The first time I met you, you weren’t shy at all.”
“Well, no. I was pissed off at you.”
When Ace’s fingers moved to the back of my neck to flirt with my hair, he asked, “Would you like me to piss you off then?”
“No…I want you to tell me how the meeting went.”
Ace acted as though he was thinking about it, and then he flashed a smile so wide it almost stretched his entire face.
“It went great. Beyond great.” Twisting his big body on the couch, he brought his arms down between us so he could clasp my hands in his. “Ronaldo told me about this new film he’s producing. It’s an adaptation of a book he fell in love with. A drama about a couple struggling to save their marriage after years together and only having been with each other. It’s about love, betrayal, passion, and finding yourself before committing to someone else. It’s got a low budget but an A+ cast, A+ producer, and, well, he wants me to be in it.”
“Oh my God, Ace, that’s—”
“I know,” he said. “I can’t believe it. That he wants me to be in it, and not just a secondary character—he wants me as the lead.”
“What?” I shouted, and then I jumped to my feet, unable to contain my excitement. “That’s amazing. Oh my God,” I said again, as tears welled up in my eyes. I was so happy for him. So proud, and I could tell by the look on his face and the moisture gathering in his own eyes that he was just as overcome with emotion. Ace reached for my wrist and tugged me back down, and this time when I fell it was into his lap, and I kissed him hard. When I pulled back, he was shaking his head and tracing my jaw as he said, “You should’ve seen me sitting there in his huge study, in his Tuscan villa with its very own vineyard. I felt like it was the first time I’d ever gone to a meeting.”
“Aww…” I said. “So you were nervous.”
“Of course.”
“Liar.”
“Well, I try not to voice the nerves; that way they can’t overwhelm me. But you know what, he was really nice. Before we even started talking about why I was there, he told me right up front he had no problem with my sexuality or who I was dating, and I was there in his office because he’d seen my body of work and wanted me to be there.”
“Wow.”
“I know,” Ace said with a sigh. “After that I could breathe a little easier, and then everything just kind of came together. He gave me the script to read, and to see if I’m interested, but I…”
“Yeah?” I said as I stared into Ace’s amazing blue eyes.
“I’ve wanted something like this for years.”
“A drama? Really?”
“Mhmm…and with such a great cast and Ronaldo producing it, I can hardly believe this is serious.”
I massaged my hand over his chest. “Well, believe it. You deserve it, and I’m glad he’s smart enough to see what a fantastic actor you are no matter who you’re—”
“In love with?”
I grinned. “Yes. That. But I have to say, now the idea of takeout and having a picnic here to say goodbye to the place feels a little underwhelming.”
“No, I think it sounds perfect,” Ace said as he glanced around my little rattrap. “This place needs a proper send-off. Why don’t we order Chinese, and I’ll help you load the U-Haul, and then we can—”
“Go out with a bang?” I whispered against his mouth.
When Ace groaned and ran a hand down to cup my ass, he said, “My thoughts exactly.”