Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Ms. Bauers, right this way please. The team is waiting in the private conference room.”
Maddie grabbed Bree’s hand to steady her shaky knees as they followed the receptionist to the conference room at Three Spot Films. She still couldn’t believe that Bree had gotten her a meeting with potential investors only two weeks after her return from Colorado. It had to be a record in the movie biz.
The receptionist, a petite Asian woman, led them toward a small room with glass walls. Inside, Maddie could make out three men and a woman sitting around a table. Two of them had their backs to her. Something about the scene triggered a feeling of familiarity, but before she could analyze it further, Bree put a hand on her shoulder.
“Maddie, hang on a sec.”
“Take your time,” the receptionist said, stepping aside so they could talk privately.
Maddie took a deep breath, preparing herself for the pep talk she was certain Bree was about to give her.
Instead, Bree turned Maddie so she was no longer facing the conference room and took both her friend’s hands in her own. “Um, don’t be mad, okay?”
“About…”
Normally confident and self-assured, Bree seemed flustered. “See, here’s the thing. I have names of people that Beaumont works with, of course I do, but none of them care what I have to say about an unknown filmmaker. And, Maddie, the people Beaumont works with are the ones who’ve heard shit about you from him. They don’t want to work with you. I could shop your movie all day long for the rest of my life and still not get a single meeting. Producers need a name attached, someone who is in the biz who’s willing to go to bat for you.”
Maddie’s stomach dropped. “What did you do?”
“He contacted me, Maddie.”
Maddie pulled away and looked back over her shoulder, not wanting to confirm her suspicion, but needing to all the same. Yes, the familiar feeling about the people in the conference room—one of them was Micah. She felt faint.
She hadn’t talked to Micah since the airport. He had called at least once a day even though she never answered. His text messages were more frequent, but those she deleted right away without fully reading. Because if she didn’t, who knew what she’d read into them?
Nights were the hardest. Her queen-size bed felt large and cold. She’d toss and turn for hours. Finally, she’d pull out her laptop and Google his name, reading every article ever written about him, watching every YouTube interview. She always ended staring at the photos of him and her together. Then she’d cry and eventually fall asleep.
She so wasn’t over him yet. There was no way she could see him now. All he had to do was smile at her and she’d be putty in his hands. “I’m not going in there.”
Bree gripped Maddie’s arms at the shoulders. “Yes, you are. This is your dream. Don’t be stupid about it.” Here was the pep talk. Just not the one Maddie had expected. “It’s good business, Maddie. He recognizes your talent and he’s been looking for a project to invest in. And it’s not just him. Three Spots wouldn’t be on board if they didn’t think it was good. Take the meeting. Decide then.”
“I can’t work with him. I can’t see him all the time.”
“They’re just investors. You can demand complete creative control. If you don’t want to see him, then kick him off the team. Take the meeting.”
Her career, her dreams. Micah had said that every day was a choice—career or not career. If she didn’t go in that room, she might never have the chance to choose career again. If he could be so single-minded, so could she. She took a deep breath. “Okay.”
“Good. Now go get ’em.”
Maddie shook her arms out, took another deep breath, and nodded at the receptionist.
“Right this way,” the receptionist said, taking them the rest of the way to the conference room. She opened the door and announced them. “Ms. Bauers and Ms. Weber.”
One of them, a tall salt-and-pepper-haired gentleman dressed in a light gray suit, stood and crossed to her, extending his hand to Maddie. “Hi, Ms. Bauers, I’m Richard Thurgood. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
She shook his hand. “Maddie, please. This is my, uh, associate, Bree.”
Richard shook Bree’s hand then gestured to the other man, a younger version of himself. “This is my brother and partner Lance, and the third spot in the Three Spots is our good friend Kelsey Grey.”
Maddie shook hands with Lance and Kelsey.
Then she faced Micah. God, oh, God, he was hotter than she wanted to remember. He still hadn’t shaved his scruff, but it was trimmed and more groomed than he had worn it for the film. His eyes were bluer and deeper, was it possible? And his lips, curved down slightly, taunted her with memories of sweet kisses. Just being near him made her heart pound faster and her eyes misty.
“Of course you already know Micah,” Richard said.
Micah took her hand in greeting. The familiar electric spark from his contact surged through Maddie’s body, and her knees buckled. Thankfully she had her other hand on the back of a chair so that he wouldn’t notice. Though something in his expression said he knew anyway.
“I met Micah quite some time ago,” Richard said, pulling Maddie from the thick haze of Micah to the reason for their meeting. “And told him we were looking for something just like your film. I was surprised when he brought us your project.”
“I have to admit,” Maddie said, “I was surprised too.”
Micah pulled out a chair for her and she nodded politely as she moved to sit. He leaned in as he pushed her in to the table. “I would have told you if you’d answered my calls,” he whispered in her ear.
Maddie shuddered at the feel of his breath on her skin. “Voice mail works for more than just pining,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Touché.” He sat next to her, then leaned in again, a broad smile on his face. “You’re going to be awesome,” he whispered. “This is your moment to shine. Enjoy it.” He squeezed her knee under the table, which turned her belly to molten and made goose bumps run up her arms. But it also gave her the confidence she needed. He believed in her. He was there because he believed in her.
Richard ran the meeting. He expressed the elements of her film that he and his partners liked the most as well as concerns they had going forward. He worked through all of her budget items, suggesting adjustments and additions. Then he asked Maddie about her vision and ideas for the movie. Occasionally, Kelsey and Lance interjected, adding their own thoughts. When Beaumont had invested in her film, he just handed her a check and expected her to deliver. Maybe, with their guidance, she could actually pull this off.
Micah sat quietly, only speaking when directly addressed. His presence was never forgotten by Maddie, though. The hair on the right side of her body, the side closest to him, stood on end. She wondered if he might touch her again, perhaps bump her under the table. After his knee squeeze, however, he kept his hands to himself.
When the meeting ended, nearly two hours later, Richard announced that they would commit seventy-five percent of her needed funds and would leave all creative control to her. “Don’t think that means we wouldn’t like to give input. Please come to us often. We want to build this with you, if you’d let us.”
“Yes!” Maddie almost squealed. “Yes. Thank you and yes.”
Micah cleared his throat. “Maddie, you know I love your film, and I understand if you don’t want me on the team—” He paused, making sure she knew exactly what he was saying, letting her know she didn’t have to include him on the project. Then to the rest of the room he said, “Since I’m only a silly actor, after all.” Richard and Lance chuckled. “I certainly couldn’t add the production expertise that Richard and Lance and Kelsey could. But I’m more than committed to providing the additional twenty-five percent.”
He met Maddie’s eyes. “I’d even be a silent partner, if you prefer.”
No, she didn’t prefer. She loved his thoughts about film and the ideas he’d given her over the last several weeks had been amazing. He’d been invaluable, stimulating her creatively, inspiring her daily. For a moment, she let herself fantasize about working with him again.
But working with him would only make her want him. And she didn’t need to revisit the list of reasons why that would end in heartache. The heartache she was feeling was already worse than she could ever imagine. Spending more time with him could only make it worse.
She put on a smile, mostly for the rest of the room. “I want you on the team,” she said to Micah. “But could I think about the silent partner part?”
“Of course.” But she saw Micah’s eye twitch as he spoke and knew her response hurt him.
Well, too bad. She hurt too.
“Great!” Richard exclaimed. “I’ll have the papers drawn up and a check ready for you by the end of next week.”
Maddie exchanged an excited glance with Bree. It was happening—really happening. A real company was making her movie.
Her mind was dizzy as Richard wrapped the meeting up. Goodbyes were said and next thing Maddie knew, she and Bree were stepping in the elevator with Micah.
Then there was a whole other reason to feel dizzy. Because now she was in a tight space with Micah with only Bree as her safeguard. And Bree had already sold her out with Micah once that week. She braced herself for awkward to set in.
The minute the doors shut, he turned to her. “We need to talk.”
No, not here, not now. She chose to divert him. “Yes, we do. Thank you, Micah. I’m so incredibly grateful that you hooked me up with Thr—”
“That’s not what we have to talk about.”
“Micah…” She didn’t know how to handle him, particularly with Bree there.
“I’m not letting you out of this elevator until you agree to talk.” He moved toward the electrical panel. “I’ll pull the emergency button if I have to.”
She put her hand out to stop him. “No, don’t do that.”
“Then you’ll talk?”
“I—” She wanted to talk, she did. She missed him. She had so much she wanted to say to him. She just didn’t know if she could bear what he’d say in return.
“You promised, Maddie,” Bree hissed at her. “You promised if you had the chance—”
If Maddie didn’t agree, Bree would tell Micah all her thoughts and feelings for her. “Fine. We can talk in the valet lounge. Bree, I’ll meet you at the car.”
“I’ll drive her home,” Micah said.
“No, I’ll meet you at the car,” Maddie growled, making sure Bree understood and didn’t drive off without her.
Bree nodded as the elevator doors opened to the parking garage. “Take your time,” she said over her shoulder as she walked toward her car.
Micah pulled Maddie by the elbow into the small lounge next to the elevator, a waiting area for when valet was available. Her skin burned under his grip, but too soon, he let her go, depositing her on an upholstered bench. He sat on the bench perpendicular to her and met her eyes.
He stared at her for several long seconds. Finally he spoke. “You’re mad at me.”
Maddie pursed her lips. “I’m not mad at you.”
He cocked his head. “Then why are you avoiding me?”
“I’m…” She considered all the answers she could give including the stock ‘I’m not avoiding you’. She settled on the truth. Why not? She’d told Bree she would be honest with him if she had the chance. “Because I’m afraid if I see you again, I’ll never want to not see you again.”
He sighed, as though relieved by her response. “Then don’t not see me again.” He reached over and stroked her cheek. “I miss you.”
She leaned into his caress, her skin vibrating under his touch. “I miss you too.”
“I tried to tell you, we can still see each other.”
She took his hand from her face and held it in her lap. There. She could concentrate better. “But you’ve already decided we won’t work out, Micah. So I didn’t see the point.”
“Forget what I’ve said.” He put his other hand around hers. “No decisions. No preconceived notions. One day at a time. I want to keep seeing you.”
Her heart sped up at his admission. “Then you believe a celebrity relationship might work out?”
“I still don’t know that yet, Maddie.”
She pulled away before he finished talking, wrapping her arms around herself. “I can’t do this, Micah. I can’t be a test subject for your theory.”
“That’s not at all what you are.” He brushed his hand through his hair. “This is hard for me, Maddie. Why can’t you give me time to figure all of this out?”
“How do you plan to do that? The shoot’s over. We can’t sneak around so easily. People will see us together and you’ll have to admit that we’re something. What will you say to the press?”
He answered her with a guilty stare.
“Oh, I get it.” Realization dawned on her. “You aren’t planning on telling anyone anything.”
“It’s nobody’s business but ours.”
“How do you imagine that will work? Do we get hotel rooms? Or do I just act like I’m all into Fudge when we’re in public and hope the media just assumes I’m with him? Or do you just not say anything and let everyone think I’m just another one of Micah’s many girls?”
“Don’t make it sound so disgusting. It’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like?”
Micah stood and paced the room. “You don’t get it, Maddie. The press makes everything a whole other ballgame.” He stopped and faced her. “The minute they’re involved, they’ll descend on us.”
“You mean, the minute they’re involved, it’s real.”
“No, that’s not what I mean.” He put one hand on his waist, his fingers resting at the band of his slacks. “I’m trying to protect you, Maddie. You can’t imagine the things they’ll say. They’ll dig up your Beaumont past. They’ll dismiss your movie because you’re Micah Preston’s girlfriend.”
“Or you’re afraid that I’ll take advantage of you because I’m your girlfriend.”
“That’s Lulu talking. You aren’t like that and I know it. And I couldn’t care less what the media thinks about my involvement with your movie. What I do care about is what they say about you.”
She stood, gathering her argument around her before delivering it full force. “But that’s what it means to be part of your life, Micah. And I want to be part of it. All of your life, not just the parts you think I’m ready for. How else will I ever know what it really means to love you?”
There. She’d said it. And not during sex. No going back now.
He took a step toward her. He opened his mouth to say something then closed it. Then opened it again. “Why does it matter what I say to journalists when I’m sharing my bed with you?”
Her eyes felt moist. She’d said “I love you” and he ignored her. Again. “It makes me your shameful little secret.”
“No.” He placed his arms on her shoulders. “It doesn’t.”
She shrugged out from his grip. “It does. And it’s not just journalists. It’s charity events where I watch with your fans while you hang on the arm of women you’ve slept with. It’s you lying to important people about who I am in your life. Would you even tell your mother?”
His pause told her no.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“You promised me, Maddie, that you wouldn’t care what other people thought or knew. That you’d come to me. That you’d talk to me.”
“I am talking to you. And I don’t care about what they think of me. I care about what you think about me. What it means that you don’t want to tell people about me. If you cared about me at all, you wouldn’t ask me to be a secret. It’s not fair. It’s selfish.”
The lines of his jaw hardened. “And you weren’t being selfish when you decided when and how we were going to end without giving me a chance to respond?”
She hung her head as if she’d been slapped. “You’re right. I ran away—I run away, Micah. That’s my M.O.” She took a deep breath. “But I’m not running now. I’m telling you how I feel and that’s not easy for me. Did you hear me? I love you. I want to be in your life. For real.” A tear escaped down her cheek.
He caught her tear on the tip of his finger. “Maddie…” His voice was low and pained.
But he didn’t say it back. He didn’t love her.
Her heart broke. The dam of tears burst and she swiped as they fell. “I know. You have to choose and all that. You’ve told me. Well, I choose too. And I’m choosing this. I…can’t see you.”
He closed his eyes, pain etched across his features. When he opened them again, he’d turned hard. He nodded once.
Maddie choked back a sob. He was letting her do this. Letting her walk away. She had hoped he would fight harder for her. But he didn’t.
“Goodbye, Micah.”
As she passed by him, he grabbed her and pushed her against the wall. “Just one more kiss,” he said, his eyes pleading.
It would be hard to stop once she started, but she wanted his mouth on her. Even if it was only one more time. “A kiss goodbye, then.”
He pressed his body to hers, his stiff member throbbing through his pants against her pelvis. He put his hands on the sides of her face and held her still, capturing her lips in his.
He kissed her roughly, desperately and within moments she surrendered to his demanding mouth. Warm liquid pooled between her legs as she melted into him. She loved this like she loved him. She wanted him like this always. He moved a hand down to her breast. His fingers kneaded her frantically, drawing her nipple out easily.
She moaned, and he moved his lips to her ear. “Doesn’t this mean anything to you?” His voice was thick with need. “What you do to me? How you respond to my touch?” He pinched her nipple and her breath drew in sharply. “Can you really walk away from this?”
Maddie moved her hands to his chest and, fighting against every aroused nerve ending in her body with more strength than she knew she had, she pushed him away. He dropped his hands and stepped back.
She wiped her mouth, trying to erase the taste of him. “It’s sex, Micah,” she said when she could speak. “As long as you’re officially free and single, that’s all we have.”
She turned again to leave, but paused in the doorway. “Silent partner, I think.”
“I’ll tell Richard.” His voice was cold and empty, breaking her heart further—she hadn’t known it was possible.
Without another word, she walked out on Micah Preston, her chest aching, and her pride hurt. It killed her to admit, but she had learned something important: Fairytale endings only ever happened in the movies.