***
"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes." He smiled and opened the door wider.
"You clean up well yourself too." I walked in and took in the grandeur of his home. It had to be the largest house I'd ever been in, and there was plenty of space, but nothing else. Furniture dotted the various rooms we walked in toward the kitchen, but there wasn't one picture on the wall, nor any decorations.
It was sterile, lifeless, sad.
"I brought wine." I set the bottle on the kitchen counter and turned to face him.
He stopped by the opening to the kitchen and flipped the switch beside him. A set of decorative lights illuminated just beyond the patio doors, lighting up a beautiful yet quaint deck.
"You good with us eating outside tonight?" He moved into the kitchen, and I turned to watch him as he busied himself with finishing up everything we would need for a salad.
His slacks looked good on his ass, his button down shirt tucked in and belt tight as if he'd just walked in the door from a long day at a high rise office building.
"I'd love to eat outside." Butterflies danced around my stomach as I envisioned myself going in the kitchen and sliding my arms around him before pressing soft kisses to the side of his perfect neck.
"Come help me finish this up, and then we can play twenty questions, or you can, really." He glanced over his shoulder for an extended minute. "I like that blouse. It's a good color on you."
His tone was soft, friendly, and surprised me a little. Our last parting had been anything but pleasant. There were too many strong emotions between us.
"Yeah, sure." I set my purse down and walked into the kitchen, moving up beside him and stiffening a little as he lifted a cherry tomato to my lips, offering it to me.
I started to reach up and take it, but instead stepped forward and let him feed me. It burst in my mouth and I flinched as he smiled.
"Delicious, right? Like candy."
"It’s very good." I turned and picked up the knife beside him, chopping through the cucumber like I knew what I was doing. I'd worked in restaurants for the last few years, mostly waiting tables, but I could hold my own in the kitchen. I didn't enjoy cooking, but something about helping him with dinner felt intimate.
"I figured we could have something light. I have salads, a chilled soup in the fridge, and a cheesecake I picked up earlier. That sound good?" He turned and pulled two wine glasses from the cabinet above him.
"Sounds great." I fixed our salads and turned my attention on him as he poured the wine. "I owe you a huge thank you."
“And I owe you a huge apology." He glanced over his shoulder and smirked. "I'm not sure I'm going to give it to you though. Seems more fun to be edgy and tense with each other, right, or is it just me?"
I chuckled and grabbed our salads, ignoring his question. "I'll meet you outside. Apology accepted, either way."
"Hey! I didn't offer the apology." He held the door for me before walking out with the wine. "No need to thank me, though. You did a great job. You deserved the part. The question now is whether you're going to take it."
I set our bowls down and turned to him, taking a glass of wine from him and lifting it toward him in a toast. "To what might be."
"A long, healthy, exciting partnership between you and me." He hit his glass to mine and took a long drink as he watched me.
His warm brown eyes left me breathless, and I couldn't force myself to look away or take a drink of the wine just yet.
"Who are you, Ethan?" I asked as my lips lingered over the top of the cup.
He smiled. "That's for me to know, and you, pretty woman, to find out."
I shook my head and sat down, needing a moment to find my center. Charlotte was right. He was a powerful man, and even though he alone could woo me into wanting something that seemed too large to grasp, it wasn't just him. It was his persona. I'd been watching him on TV and in the movies for ten years. He was an icon that all actors wanted to be like, and yet he was nothing like the man in the movies. Or was he?
"All right. Let's start the question game." He pulled out a chair and sat down beside me, glancing at his watch. "I have an hour and a half before I need to head out of here."
"Oh." I wanted to ask where he was going, but didn't want to seem too interested. I was there for a business dinner and nothing else. "Okay. Firstly, tell me what it's like to live on the road. Get down into the nitty gritty for me. Treat me like you would a sister."
He lifted his eyebrow. "That's an odd request, but yeah, sure. It's tough most of the time, but you become close to those you travel with. Seeing the world is an adventure like no other, and some of the locations we film on are beyond anything you could imagine."
I picked up my fork and took a big bite of my salad while he went through his spiel on traveling for months at a time. I wasn't sure I was ready for such a commitment. I had to figure out what to do about school and my real job. Was I going to just put everything on hold, or would the film make enough money to keep me from having to go back?
"How many more films are in this series, and what do you see happening to me when it's over?" They hadn't shown me the plot for the full movie yet, so as far as I knew, I was probably going to die in some dramatic fashion after Ethan's character fell madly in love with mine. It was a pattern we'd all come to expect in his movies.
"That's confidential information as far as future films are concerned, but I'm thinking that there will be two to three films that you could join me in if this goes well." He shrugged and worked on his salad.
I studied him, noticing the dark circles under his eyes and finding myself wanting to ask why they were there. Was he struggling with something at work? With his family?
"Have you ever been intimately involved with someone? Engaged? Married? Dated for a long time?" I forced myself to ask before I chickened out.
He glanced up and lifted his eyebrow before letting out a soft laugh. "Is that part of the interview over the movie or do curious minds want to know?"
"I want to know." I licked at my fork, loving the way his eyes moved down to watch me with intensity. He was interested in me. It might just be in getting me in his bed for the night, but regardless, he was interested.
"How about we pose the question in a more generic form?" He leaned back and pulled his napkin from his lap, brushing it across his lips. "Is it hard to be in a solid relationship when you're a gainfully employed actor? Yes. It is. Women aren't interested in tagging along for the life I live, and I'll warn you now... the minute you become wealthy, no one is interested in you anymore, Riley. They want your fame or your wallet."
"You really believe that?" I turned to face him as he moved closer, brushing his fingers by my arm and leaving chill bumps in his wake.
"Why was your friend using a fake name the other day? Because she was interested in starting a friendship with me that might lead somewhere, or because she figured our encounter would be a one-time deal?"
"One-time deal," I whispered, unable to catch my breath with him so close.
"Right. Nothing is long-term in our world. If you have a man, hold on to him. I'd say if you don't, then get one before you start this film."
His words slapped me in the face. Maybe I was delusional to think he was interested in me. This was the second time he'd made it clear that he wasn't thinking of me in any way other than a business partner.
"That's good to know." I turned back to my salad as he got up.
"I'm going to grab the soup. I'll be right back."
I nodded, but didn't respond.
Disappointment rolled over me. What had I expected exactly? For him to try and woo me? For him to seduce me? I was a nobody, and he was everybody's somebody.
"You want me to grab the sour cream?" he asked before setting the bowl down in front of me a few minutes later.
"No, this looks great." I glanced up at him. "Thanks again for tonight. I know you’re busy."
"So are you." He sat down and took a quick bite of the soup. "You need to come in tomorrow and sign the contract. This is a game-changer, and though you and I are going to butt heads a lot over the coming years, it's something you want to take advantage of."
I wanted to tell him how much he turned me on, how badly he left me wanting to do anything he needed me to for him, but I couldn't. It was a power struggle between us.
He had it, and I wanted it.
"I need to think about things a little bit more, but I'll be in the studio tomorrow." I gave him a kind smile and stifled the need to cry. I was losing him before I even had a chance to have him. Did I want him? Sort of.
I glanced over at him. Kind of.
He looked up and licked at his lips, lifting his eyebrow at me. Yes. Yes, I did.
"Ethan."
"Riley."
I smiled. "You go first."
He stood up and offered me his hand, pulling me flush against him as the moon beat down on us.
"All right. I'm sorry for being a dick in the dressing room yesterday. I was wrong, and I shouldn’t have said you were unprofessional." He slid his hands over my hips, his touch insanely right. "It was me that was being unprofessional."
"We were both a little high on the scene we'd just wrapped up. Good art always stays with you, lingering in a way that leaves you edgy." I let my eyes move down to his lips and lifted to my toes, ready to move us along the path we were headed. He was just being professional by pushing me away. He wanted me. I knew it.
He captured the sides of my face before my lips touched his and he smiled, moving up and kissing my forehead.
"As I said, we'll have each other’s backs for the next few years, regardless of how pissy we get." He moved back and smiled. "You ready for dessert?"
My insides crumbled in embarrassment as I nodded and forced a smile. "Only if you have strawberries to go on it."
"Of course. Can you eat it any other way?" He laughed and turned, walking into the house as I fought back tears.
"Such a fucking idiot."
Me. I was the idiot.