CHAPTER SEVEN
Saxon
My brother and I were nervous, although you wouldn’t be able to tell just looking at us. We sat cool and composed in our office, idly watching some porn, checking our email, giving instructions to employees. After watching the audition tape, we’d been on the phone to New York immediately.
“Get her here,” was all I said, and Ralph had made the arrangements pronto.
Now we sat in our office, waiting for Melanie to arrive. Goddamn but life was weird.
The door opened, and our secretary popped her head in.
“Ms. Jones here to see you,” she said. I nodded, and Melanie made her way into the room.
She stopped short as soon as the door closed, unable to keep the shock off her face. Because instead of some seedy, anonymous, middle-aged dude, Stryke and I sat there, immaculately groomed, looking at her with a glimmer in our eyes.
“Brothers,” she said faintly. “What are you doing here? I was supposed to meet with the heads of Intercon Productions.
“Sister, we are Intercon Productions,” said Stryke silkily. “Jack Strike at your service.”
“We were very impressed by your audition tape,” I added, giving her a cool smile.
She sat limply on the couch in our office, her chestnut hair gently waving over an oversize college sweatshirt, her ass in tight jeans outfitted with sneakers. Perfect. She’d be amazing in our “Naughty Co-eds” production.
“But,” she stammered. “Weren’t you guys in college at USC? What are you doing here?” she said slowly.
“Honey,” I said. “We’re still in school. But Stryke and I decided to be entrepreneurial and open our own film development and distribution production in the meantime. After all, why wait until we graduate? That’s four years of productivity wasted.”
“Plus,” added my brother. “Porn pays a lot, if you know what I mean.”
Melanie flushed.
“I’m not here to do porn,” she said stiffly. “I was supposed to interview for a stripper job at the Donkey Club but they told me I had to do an in-person interview with some producers and I figured it was someone from the club,” she stated.
“Oh yeah,” I said casually. “We don’t own the Donkey Club but we source girls through Ralph for our vids. We were pleasantly surprised, I should say, when we got your audition tape. Why were you there, Melly?”
And hearing her nickname seemed to make her crumble a bit.
“I don’t have money for school,” she said softly. “You know your dad’s getting military pay now, and my mom doesn’t have enough to help me with tuition. So I’ve been scrambling,” she admitted. “I’m desperate for tuition money, I love school and don’t want to drop out.”
My brother and I exchanged a glance.
“How much do you need?” I asked, curious. I mean, Trinity was an expensive place but could it be more expensive than USC?
“Forty-six thousand,” said our sister, her eyes downcast, a glimmer of tears shining in those big brown pools. “Forty-six thousand that I’ll never get.”
My brother shot me a look and I knew exactly what he was thinking. Forty-six was a lot, but it wouldn’t be a problem. With our little porn production shindig, we were raking in hundreds of thousands each month, and another fifty or so wouldn’t be a big deal … especially to help our sister.
“Little sis,” began Stryke, his voice gentle and calm. “I think we have a solution for you,” he said.
Melanie looked up swiftly.
“You do?” she asked. “Please, I’ll do anything to stay in school, I never thought of myself as a drop-out,” she said tearily.
“Yeah, we have some ideas,” Stryke continued. “And they all involve taking your clothes off … for us.”