Chapter Fifteen
The remainder of Ashleigh’s day was fraught with personal tension and anxiety as she anticipated the meal with Francis that evening, dreading it and just hoping everything went alright. If he started being really creepy with her, she wasn’t sure how well she’d be able to cope.
She tried to keep herself busy with her work, but she was also paranoid about why she’d been moved again. She’d enjoyed herself on the set and everyone seemed to agree it was useful having that extra pair of hands. It definitely felt like Francis trying to control the amount of time she spent with Rico.
After they’d wrapped for the evening, she went to the bathroom to slap a little bit of makeup on. She didn’t have much with her anyway – just the small amount that she carried around in her bag, so she was essentially just topping up on her basic look. In a way, she was relieved. She didn’t want to make a big effort for Francis, or make it seem like she was going out of her way to look good for him.
When she returned to the office, she was surprised to see he was already waiting there for her, obviously having left the set early, and had gotten changed into a shirt and tie, a sort of smart, casual appearance.
“Where are we going then?” she asked as they set off walking together and he led her out the front of the studio to the parking lot, and his Mercedes.
“There’s a small Italian place I know. Very intimate. Only enough space for twenty people or so, but the food is delicious, and I’ve reserved a table. We don’t need to be all dressed up, it’s not that kind of place. Family owned, very relaxed atmosphere.”
She nodded, and he opened the passenger door for her to get in. The way he described this restaurant…it did actually sound really nice, and the kind of place she’d probably enjoy going with Rico. Maybe they could have an enjoyable evening after all. Good food, chat about movies. It would be fine. She kept telling herself this as she did up her buckle, and Francis got in the other side.
“You don’t seem like the kind of girl who is lured by fancy restaurants, fine diamonds, and fast cars,” he chuckled as he started up the engine and set off driving.
“I’m not,” she answered. “You’re right.”
“I’m a good judge of character. I could tell right away what kind of a girl you are. What were you doing out with Rico the other week?”
Wow, that question suddenly came out of nowhere, although she suspected he’d been wanting to ask it for a long time.
“Have you two been seeing each other a lot?” he continued.
She shrugged and tried to play it down. “Now and again. We discovered we have a lot in common. We’re kind of friends, I guess.”
He glanced across at her as he drove, a serious expression on his face. “I’d be careful of Rico, if I were you. Don’t trust him. He has a bad reputation with the girls. A very bad reputation indeed.”
“I’ve heard a bit about that, yeah…”
“He loves ‘em and leaves ‘em. He’s not interested in relationships.”
“I know.” And neither are you by the looks of things, she felt like saying, remembering that young, pretty girl he had on his arm the night they’d first spoken in the restaurant.
“A pretty girl like you doesn’t have to worry about impressing movie stars to get where you need to be,” he continued. “Just stick with the producers… we’ll look after you, ha.” He pointed at his own chest smugly and chuckled.
She smiled and tried to join in with the humor, if that’s what it was.
She was relieved when he eventually pulled up at the restaurant. At least now they could talk about the food or what they were going to drink, and maybe with other people around them he wouldn’t be so crass and obvious.
He came around the other side of the car and opened the passenger door, offering out his hand for her.
She didn’t want to accept it, but she did, getting out of the car and allowing him to lead her into the restaurant.
The proprietors recognized him immediately, having obviously eaten there many times before, and they were led straight away to their table in the corner.
Francis was right about the place. It was very small, and had a warm, homey feel to it, with cheerful Italian music playing in the background, lots of candles and pictures on the walls, and moody red lighting that matched the red tablecloths and napkins. Ashleigh liked it straight away; she just wished she wasn’t there with Francis.
Of course, he acted like the perfect gentleman: pulling her chair out for her, helping her off with her jacket, but all of it seemed kind of creepy coming from him.
“This candlelight makes you look even more beautiful,” he remarked once they were seated, diving straight in with the compliments and flirting. She wished the same could be said for him. He was still just as ugly, outside and in.
“What can you recommend off the menu?” she asked, ignoring his comment and looking down at the food choices.
He told her a couple of his favorites, then asked what kind of wine she’d like.
“Maybe if I get you drunk, it’ll loosen you up a little,” he gave a laugh. “You seem a bit…tense.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted.
“It’s acceptable to be nervous. I suppose it’s not every day you get to go for dinner with Hollywood’s top producer.”
And so modest too, Ashleigh thought to herself sarcastically.
“But then, it’s not every day that I get to go out for dinner with someone as beautiful as you,” he added, throwing in another flirtatious comment. His eyes glanced her up and down hungrily. “You don’t need dresses or makeup. You’re just perfect already.”
“Thank you,” she smiled stiffly. All the compliments were making her uncomfortable; it was just too much.
“What brings you to the movies?” he asked once they’d ordered, wanting to know her story and background; why she was here, what she wanted to do with her life, what her plans, hopes and dreams were for her future. She was used to answering those kinds of questions by now, and didn’t mind talking about it.
He nodded and though he seemed to be listening, she could clearly see his eyes were on her cleavage and not her face.
When the food arrived, she stuffed a napkin down the front so he couldn’t look anymore, pretending it was just to catch potential spillages.
“Do you have a boyfriend back home?” he asked, as blunt as anything. “Someone as pretty as you must have guys after you all the time.”
“Not really,” she answered with a shrug. “I think I’m happy being single at the moment.”
“Tsh,” he tutted and shook his head at her. “What nonsense. You deserve romance. You deserve someone who can take care of you. Someone strong and influential.”
He sat up a bit and adjusted his shoulders. It was fairly obvious he was talking about himself, and then as if to make it even clearer, he leaned forward in his seat and whispered conspiratorially.
“I can help you. I can get you so far in this industry, Ashleigh, all you have to do is stick with me. Do you think you can do that? I think you can.”
He didn’t give her chance to respond before carrying on:
“I think you’re the kind of girl who will make the right choices when it comes down to it. You’re smart. You know what the right choice is for your career, don’t you?”
He paused, as if wanting her to respond, but thankfully the food arrived and she was saved from the awkwardness of a potential reply.
“Oh, wow, this does look good,” she gushed over the steaming pasta, trying to turn the conversation away from the sleazy direction she felt it was going. “How many times did you say you’d been here?”
But Francis seemed to have a one-track mind, and didn’t even answer her question about his number of visits to the restaurant, instead choosing to focus on her first remark by responding, “It doesn’t look as good as you do.”
And just when she was wondering whether his chat-up lines could get any worse, he added, “I could eat you all up right now.”
Her cheeks flushed, but out of embarrassment, not flattery. A part of her just wanted to get up and walk out. This was so inappropriate of him. He was her boss and in a position of power. She felt incredibly uncomfortable, and didn’t even know how to respond.
She decided to just try and change the subject again.
“There’s so many restaurants in LA, it must be hard to decide where to go.”
He didn’t reply, just staring across the table at her with his beady, predatory gaze as he began to eat.
Ashleigh kept her eyes on her food and twirled her spaghetti around her fork, taking a mouthful and concentrating on eating.
“Mmm, it’s really nice…” She nodded after her first mouthful, glancing up at Francis to see he was still gawping at her.
“I’m so glad we finally got to spend some time together,” he declared after he’d finished his first mouthful. “I can’t wait for your audition.”
Literally everything he said seemed to make her more uncomfortable.
Would it be rude of her to just finish her food really quickly and then walk out? Could he really have her fired over something like that or ruin her career if she didn’t comply with him? What kind of power did he have?
Probably a lot.
She didn’t want to risk making him mad, so she endured his constant compliments and invasive looks, which continued throughout the whole of their meal.
When he asked what she wanted for dessert, she told him she was full, just wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible so she could go back to her hotel.
He paid the check and they left, with Francis once again acting like the gentleman, putting her jacket on for her and then grabbing her hand, holding it as he led her out. He didn’t give her much choice about that one; he’d literally just snatched it.
Once they were outside and over by his car, he paused before opening the door for her, letting go of her hand and then placing his own on her waist.
It was very personal. Too personal. She wanted to push him away.
“Perhaps you’d like to come back to my place for coffee…”
And there it was. The moment she’d been dreading. She couldn’t think of anything worse than going back to his place, and she knew it wasn’t coffee he wanted.
“I’m…really tired,” she mumbled, shaking her head. “Thank you for the offer, but I need to get back to my hotel and rest so I can be fresh for tomorrow.”
She was worried he was going to be disappointed, angry, or insistent, but he merely raised an eyebrow at her, then smirked, and dropped his hand from her waist, then opened the passenger door.
“Very well. You’re playing hard to get. I like that. I like it a lot. Maybe next time, Ashleigh. There will be a next time.”
She gave a little nervous giggle, trying to laugh the whole thing off as she got in the car. In truth, she was disgusted by him. He made her skin crawl and she couldn’t wait to be rid of him.
The whole car ride home, he talked about how they’d have to do this again very soon, and make more of an evening of it…spend more time together…get to know each other very well…etc, etc. She smiled and tried to be polite, but as soon as they arrived at her hotel, she thanked him for the meal and rushed out into the lobby.
Once she was in her room, she showered, feeling dirty just for even being with him, then got herself to bed.