Chapter 1
Chapter One – Charlotte
I stare at the young actor who’s supposed to be my son, with cherished concern.
With his bright red hair and light green eyes, if I had told you he was my son in real life, you wouldn’t have doubted.
I have no idea where scouting agencies find their casts, but I give kudos to them. Thinking that there was an audition for this role, where at least ten others like him came and were turned down, boggles my mind.
“Well, ma! I don’t like Jenny. She wouldn’t let me have a peak at her school work, anyways,” he mouths the script and sniffs.
“Okay, let’s get a couple of things out the way. One, she shouldn’t let you go through her work. That’s malpractice. Also, you’re a smart ki…”
“Cut!” The director interrupts our scene and for a moment, I pout. This was about to be the best one yet.
My eyes fly to the director, and I shoot him a questioning glare, to which he just shrugs, walking away from the setting.
I look back to see nervousness lace the teenager’s eyes. “I screwed up at some point, right?” he lets off some kind of light chuckle, almost in resignation to his fate.
“I doubt it. Even if you did, don’t worry. There was a time I messed up a scene so much they had to cut it out entirely. You’ll be fine,” I flash an assuring smile and whip my head back to scan for the director.
The sooner we’re done with this, the sooner I get to go home.
And I’m really missing my bed right now.
“Yes, yes, sir…” I hear his faint voice behind the blinding lights and the cinema props.
Just as my patience wears thin and I stand to actually go searching for him, a looming figure steps into the lights. His presence throws me right back onto my seat.
I don’t know what is more intimidating. The fact that everywhere just went 50% darker the moment he showed up, or the overpowering scent of him.
It reeks of a darkness that I very well see myself getting lost in.
At first, because of the bright lights that are caste in my direction, I see only the outline of golden hair like a halo around his face, all surrounding his facial silhouette.
My goodness, did Jesus wear a suit for his second coming?
“Eh, you’re a pretty standard place, I guess,” his voice is soft, but the baritone shakes the room, and it makes my toes curl.
When he faces the lights, I die a little.
This really is the second coming of Christ!
His golden hair stops at his shoulders, but every single strand is in the place they’re supposed to be. His skin seems slightly tanned.
And his eyes? I imagine swimming in the Pacific, and getting pulled out by a massive wave to the point nemo, where all I see is massive blue water.
It doesn’t help that the rest of his face is a perfectly sculpted sailboat where I can ride the waves of his eyes with.
A chiseled jawline to cut through the waves and smooth high-profile cheekbones that would surf gentle waters.
He’s the recipe for a perfect disaster.
Just as I continue adoring him with my eyes, he turns to me.
My breath hitches for what has to be a second or two, but I would never really know how long. It felt like forever when we locked eyes.
“Ah, yes…you there…fucking…poison ivy…I’ll take that one for a set. There’s a scene where a man has to leave his young wife for work or something,” he oscillates between me and my manager who just stepped in. “She’d fit the role,”
He regards me like I’m not someone. He doesn’t look into my eyes much after the first time. He instead, whips out his phone and begins furiously tapping the screen.
“I’m sorry, what?” I ask.
He raises his head and tries to find the voice in the room that just talked. “Huh?”
So pleasant to look at, yet, so sour to relate to.
Tch.
“I’m sorry, I thought you were talking about me,” I chuckle. “I’ll get back to…”
“Oh, but I was talking about you,” he positions himself to face me fully now. If I wasn’t an experienced actress, having faced multiple characters, maybe some worse than his upfront, I would have been intimidated by his deep questioning voice, reaching far into my head and screwing with my brain.
“You have everything I need in a commercial actress. Is there a problem with that?” he buttresses, again, trying to come off as intimidating.
He does so by squaring his shoulders and putting his hands in front of him.
That’s a lot of macho, but fortunately, macho is a second native language of mine.
So, I chuckle again, “Oh, well, I mean, it also did sound like you weren’t, because…I don’t think I’m Poison Ivy or anything of that sort,”
He cocks a questioning brow and puckers his lips. “Red hair, freckles…and that sass…I could practically see it in your face before you uttered a word, so, be my guest and tell me your name, then,”
“I’m not compelled to do that,” I smile sweetly. “I’m also not going to be working on whatever role you have for me, thanks and peace. Now…” I turn to the director who just walked back in, “if we could get back to the show…”
“No…” The fallen angel waves his hand to the director, and he stands entranced…unmoving, a slave to the flutter of his hand. “No, you can’t get back to the show. See…Charlotte…I paid for this moment, and I promise you, I’m not the kind of person to take what isn’t mine.”
I glance at my colleague sitting inches from me. The youngling gives me a nervous look back, asking the same question pulsing through my mind.
He knows my name?
I turn to face our intruder.
“Take what you paid for then. Good day to you,” I nod in defiance and proceed to exit the room, but a strong force stops me from moving past him.
It takes a few seconds for me to realize that he’s the one holding me back.
His hands…his grip. It’s soft. However, it’s also vice like. Or maybe I just can’t bring myself to struggle hard enough with him being so close to me.
So close that his cologne completely overpowers my ability to perceive any other smell. His aura isn’t like any other rich bastard I’ve come across.
It’s worse…way worse.
So much, that I can’t bear to look at his face, for fear that I’ll like what I’ll see.
I hate this confusion.
“Let go of me,” I grit hard through the teeth.
“After you sign the contract, your evening would be yours, Charlotte. I told you I don’t take more than what is mine,” the glint of a smirk begins to surface in his eyes, noticing the clear conversational advantage he has.
“Sure…because we’re in a shopping mall…and you pay for things and pick them, right? Well, I’m not one of those things, bro…knock it off,” I groan.
I’m already feeling uncontrollable irritation creep in, the kind that forces me to lash out and throw the middle finger to everything around me…but I hold it in.
I’ve always held it in.
I shift my hands a little and his grip on me loosens, indicating that I did in fact, not have the mind to wiggle him off in the first place, and that concerns me.
How would I let a total stranger have this much control over my being?
“Woah, woah…knock it off, both of you,” Genesis comes in. My manager and I have some sort of mother-daughter relationship, so her voice immediately stills me.
I was making for the exit otherwise.
The man a few inches from me angers me a lot with his arrogance.
“Genesis…who’s this guy?” I ask.
“Ethan Stone,” she shrugs.
I’ve heard the name before…I just haven’t paired it with a face…another reason to hate him. If you’re heard before you’re seen, nine times out of ten, you sing your praises or have people that do it for you.
Especially if you look like Angel Gabriel over here.
“…and you’re working with him,” Genesis drops the bomb, and I feel back in shock.
“But…but…did you see the way he…”
“No buts, Charlotte,” Genesis cuts me off, her salt and pepper hair swishing as she shakes her head to reject my excuse. “You’re a professional. Emotions shouldn’t interfere with work. I’ll brief you in my office about the simple things. The day after tomorrow, you’ll be going to The Canyon to get proper info and start working with them.”
I take in a deep breath. There’s a lot that I could say as the exhale spills out of my body. Those stay in and only air comes out.
I turn back to give Ethan a spiteful glare, and the glint of a sly smile becomes full blown.
“Charlotte…office…come on,” Genesis calls me.
Before intake my eyes off him, as my feet begin to move in obedience to my superior, the word “mine” plays on his lips…and he licks them.
Freaking Incubus!
