Chasing Perfection: Vol. II Read online

  The memory of his lips on mine hit me and my hands clenched the steering wheel.

  The sooner, the better.

  Chapter 12

  DEVON

  My focus was totally shot.

  Ever since Krissy had kissed me, I couldn’t look at a nice ass or tits without thinking about her, and in my business, that meant I spent way too much time thinking about her.

  It would be over soon, I reassured myself. It had to be. I had to stop thinking about that kiss.

  As much as I hated how it was constantly on my mind, the kiss had been amazing. I could always tell from just one kiss what the sex would be like with someone. I’d had my predictions proven right time and again, and this time I knew that when it happened between me and her, it would be amazing. And then it’d be over. I’d fuck her hard, use her, and then reassign her to work under Bruce or Clark. She’d be their problem then and if they made a move, so much the better.

  I just needed to get back to my usual groove, and fast. I didn’t think it’d take much to get her into bed. We only needed the right situation, and as I looked down at the pair of tickets on my desk, I knew exactly what that situation would be.

  “Melissa,” I hit the intercom.

  “Yes, Mr. Ricci?”

  “Contact Ms. Jensen and let her know not to make any plans for Friday evening. She’ll be coming with me to the Underside premiere.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  That should do the trick, I thought as I ran my fingers over the tickets. This would be Krissy’s first genuine movie premiere and she’d be thrilled with me for taking her to such an exclusive event. I doubted she wanted to see the new Sledgehammer action movie, but all the stars would be there and I’d make sure she met them all. Later, at the after party, after she’d spent the night rubbing elbows with the epitome of who’s who in Hollywood, I’d make my move.

  It was a perfect plan.

  Chapter 13

  KRISSY

  When Melissa had called and told me not to make plans for Friday evening, I’d had a moment of wild hope that DeVon was taking me out. Then she’d told me that it was a movie premiere which meant all business, and I hadn’t been sure whether I was disappointed or relieved. I’d thanked her and let myself focus on the excitement of getting to attend something so big.

  It had been hard to concentrate the rest of the day and my nerves had been on edge when I’d seen DeVon out of the corner of my eye as we were both walking towards the front doors. I’d slowed instinctively and he’d fallen in step beside me.

  “So, about Friday,” I’d begun.

  “Movie premieres are a great place to mingle and network,” he’d said with barely a glance towards me. “Make sure you look your best.”

  I resisted the urge to tell him that I wasn’t stupid. I’d seen enough coverage to know that movie premieres were a big deal. People dressed up as if it were the Oscars or something. That, plus the fact that DeVon had felt the need to reiterate that I needed to look my best had meant that just any old dress wouldn’t do. I’d started to suspect that the reason Mirage paid so well was because of how much we had to spend on clothes. I’d taken out my credit card, one that was now dangerously close to being maxed out, and bought a sexy evening gown.

  Now, as I stood in front of my building, watching a limo pull up to the curb, I was starting to wonder if I’d made a mistake. The dress was by some designer I’d never heard of, but I loved it anyway. The hem brushed against my toes, but the slit in the side went to well above the middle of my thigh. The neckline plunged so much that I’d actually thought I’d need to tape the material to my boobs so that things stayed where they were supposed to. The last thing I needed was a wardrobe malfunction, but, in the end, I hadn’t needed anything extra. The material was rich but the design was simple and it clung to me like a second skin. Still, I felt vastly overdressed as I slid into the backseat.

  DeVon glanced at me and gave me a look that said he approved, but nothing more. We rode in silence and when we got in line to be dropped off, I started to watch the other women who were heading down the carpet. My previous thoughts of being overdressed now felt stupid. I didn’t see a single dress that wasn’t at least a several thousand dollar designer gown.

  DeVon leaned over until his arm brushed against mine, sending tingles of electricity through me. “Your choice for tonight is impeccable. Much better than those over-inflated haute couture dresses that do absolutely nothing but say that money has been spent.” He gestured towards a woman who was wearing what looked like a triangular piece of aluminum foil.

  It didn’t take a genius to know that it was a typical ‘sensational’ piece, created to attract attention to the dress and the designer rather than to flatter the woman wearing it.

  I smiled at him but didn’t say anything because the limo was at the front of the line now and the door was opening. DeVon got out first and then offered me his hand. I took it and tried not to think about the strength in those fingers as he helped me from the vehicle...or the disappointment when he let me go.

  I didn’t have much time to dwell on it as cameras started flashing, blinding me. DeVon put his hand on the small of my back as he steered me through the throng on the red carpet. Journalists and fans yelled from the sidelines and someone asked if I was DeVon’s girlfriend. I didn’t hear him respond, but that could’ve just been because I was trying not to think about how good it felt to have his hand on me and how glad I was that I’d gone with a dress with such a low cut back that half of his hand was on bare skin. A shiver went through me as he led me into the theater, with him smiling and greeting people the entire way.

  “Charlie!” He clapped his free hand on the shoulder of a handsome, middle-aged man that I recognized as being last year’s Oscar nominee for Best Director. I thought he should’ve won, but then again, I usually disagreed with most of the Emmy and Oscar wins.

  “DeVon, how’ve you been?” The man beamed.

  “Not as good as you, I hear,” DeVon gestured to a slender, much younger man who was standing next to Charlie.

  “I don’t know, DeVon, you’ve got quite the looker there, too,” Charlie said as he reached for the hand of the young man.

  “Krissy Jensen, meet Charlie Irons and his husband, Nathan.”

  I put out a hand and shook with both Charlie and Nathan.

  “Krissy here is my new hot-shot assistant. She’s got the goods, gentleman,” DeVon said without a trace of sarcasm.

  Charlie raised an eyebrow. “That’s quite a compliment coming from you.” He looked at me. “DeVon here helped me cast Gracie Bevins as Zara in The King’s Fool.”

  “Really?” I looked at DeVon, impressed. “She was amazing. I couldn’t imagine anyone else playing Zara.”

  “Krissy’s eye is just as good,” DeVon said. “She’s an up and comer.”

  His praise was easing the knot in my stomach, and as it continued each time he introduced me to someone new, I found myself beginning to relax and even join in the conversation. I kept waiting for him to add in something about me having a bad attitude or anything that could make something negative out of all of the nice things he was saying, but it never happened. This was a side of DeVon I’d never seen before.

  He was charming, and not in a “trying to get laid” kind of way. He joked and flirted, but was never too much. And he was actually very attentive to me, making sure I was never left out of the conversation or left behind. Each time we moved on, he’d put his hand back where it had been and gently steer me to whoever was the next person on his list. When I shivered again, he asked if I was cold and offered his jacket. I politely declined and hoped he thought the flush in my cheeks was from nerves rather from the fact that I couldn’t tell him that the shiver was from his touch and not the weather. The next time a waitress went by with glasses of champagne, he grabbed one for me and that helped take the last of the edge off.

  As we headed for our seats, we chatted about mundane things that seemed relevant to the situa
tion. Favorite movies and directors. Which casting choices had been brilliant and which ones we wished we’d had a shot to try. Surprisingly, we agreed on almost all of them. I was still trying to convince him that Lucas Freeman would’ve been better as the lead in Write Home Sometime when the lights dimmed.

  It had been a while since I’d been to the theater, and even longer still since I’d been there with a man. I’d forgotten how, when the darkness settled and the movie began, it was easy to forget the people nearby. I’d also forgotten that, no matter how posh the theater, the seats were still close together and, as I leaned away from the man on my right who kept trying to look down the front of my dress, my arm pressed against DeVon’s. I felt him stiffen and the tension between us suddenly ratcheted up several notches. I moved back so that I wasn’t touching either of the men sitting next to me, but it didn’t stop whatever it was that was growing between DeVon and I. I didn’t know if he felt it, too, but I hardly paid any attention to the movie because I was trying very hard not to touch him.

  Then, the movie was ending and the lights were coming back on. People were clapping so I joined in, even though I didn’t remember a single thing from the film. Not that it was my kind of movie anyway, but others seemed to have liked it.

  “I need a drink,” DeVon said. For a moment, I thought he was angry, but when I looked, he was smiling at me. “Something stronger than champagne.”

  “Okay,” I said slowly.

  “There’s a fridge in the limo,” he said. “Why don’t we head that way and we can get something on our way to the after party.”

  “The what?”

  DeVon grinned. “Did I forget to mention that? Oops.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. The smile wasn’t lecherous or smug or any of the other things I’d come to associate with DeVon’s smiles. Instead, it was the kind of grin that showed me what he must’ve looked like when he’d been little. I liked this side of DeVon, more than I cared to admit.

  “How about I make us both a vodka martini?” DeVon suggested as we got back into the limo.

  I agreed and watched him mix the drink with an ease that made me wonder if he’d been a bartender at some point. I’d seen enough bartenders to know how they worked. And by ‘seen,’ I meant slept with.

  It was strong and exactly what I needed. I was actually having fun and I didn’t want anything ruining tonight.

  “So, where’s this after party?” I asked after I’d finished half of my drink.

  “Brentwood,” DeVon answered. “Steven Morrison’s mansion.”

  I knew the name. He’d directed the movie we’d seen tonight. I just hoped he didn’t ask me what I’d thought of it. Then I realized that I didn’t just know the name because of tonight’s movies. Even back in New York, I’d known the name. Morrison was notorious for his parties. There was always great food, plenty of alcohol and dozens of drop-dead gorgeous models who mingled with the guests.

  I gulped down the rest of my drink. I had a feeling I was going to need even more before the night was over. This party would be the perfect opportunity for me to move on with my plan of having sex with DeVon to get him out of my system. Why put off until tomorrow what I could do tonight? Or, more accurately, who I wanted to do tonight.

  Chapter 14

  DEVON

  The drive from Hollywood took forever. I’d always loved the view, but tonight, I just wanted to get to the house. Some things were more beautiful than the scenery. As we finally topped the last summit point, we were at Mandeville Canyon. I looked over at Krissy who was staring at the view.

  “I love these houses,” I said. “But the drive is ridiculous.”

  As we got out of the limo and the music from the party reached us, I forgot all about the drive. It was time to show Krissy what it was really all about. What I was really all about. She’d seen me at work and I knew the kind of vibe I gave there. Now she needed to see how I could schmooze all these people, how I could charm any of them into pretty much anything. She needed to know that I didn’t just flirt with women to get laid. I wined and dined everyone in the industry to get what I wanted. Male, female. Directors, producers, actors, casting directors, all of them.

  A few of the junior executives from various production companies were standing outside the house and I greeted them by name. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Krissy looking surprised, then impressed. I didn’t blame her. Not many people in my position would bother to learn the names of anyone but those at the top. I’d built my company with hard work and charm, and the latter worked even better when it started at the bottom. This mentality had helped me build Mirage into what it was today. A surge of pride went through me.

  “Wow,” Krissy breathed as she took in the entire picture.

  I knew she came from money – I’d done my research, after all – but I also knew that this kind of party wasn’t like anything she’d seen back home. The house reminded me of Howard Leffner’s place. I’d only been there once. I’d gotten the impression he hadn’t taken too kindly to me fucking a couple of his girls since he’d never asked me back. All right, technically, there had been four of them, but in my defense, they’d started it.

  Half of the guests were inside dancing and drinking, the other half outside by the pool where dozens of bikini-clad models were hanging out. Some were in the water, others on rafts. All around were middle-aged men practically coming in their pants watching the girls bounce around. A few of those I recognized as VIPs already had a couple girls hanging on their arms. There were even a handful of young men in skimpy shorts for the straight women and gay men. Morrison didn’t discriminate.

  The two of us walked into the house and I kept the same strategy as I’d had at the premiere. Greet people, charm them, and use every opportunity I had to touch Krissy. Back at the theater, when we’d gotten out of the limo, I’d automatically put my hand on her back to move her through the crowd. I hadn’t realized that the cut of her dress would put her bare skin under my fingers and I’d actually had to take a few seconds to will away my body’s natural response. Once I’d gotten over the surprise, I’d found myself touching her again and again, even when it had become obvious that she’d known where we were going and that she was more comfortable. Now, I put my hand on her back, but this time, I let the tips of my fingers slide under the side material. I heard her catch her breath and the fire that had been smoldering inside me ignited. It was time to move in for the kill.

  I leaned down as if the music was too loud for her to hear me over it and spoke in her ear. “Did you know that from outside, you can see the whole west side of LA?”

  She turned her head just enough so that our faces were even closer together, but not so much that we were touching. “Show me everything.”

  I really hoped I wasn’t imaging the double meaning in those words. I’d spent almost the entire movie thinking about all of the things I wanted to do to her. By the time the credits had started to roll, I’d been certain I’d need to excuse myself to the restroom just to alleviate some of the tension.

  The two of us walked towards the set of French doors that led out back, but before we could get to them, someone stepped in front of us. I nearly cursed, but forced myself to bite the words back. Harlan Rickard was a director whose only claim to fame was Into the Darkness, a film that had actually managed to make money and get awards – fifteen years ago. He’d delivered flop after flop ever since, pieces of shit that were neither entertaining nor insightful. Still, he managed to get invited to parties and he generally spent his time telling anyone who’d listen about his ‘next big thing’ and trying to get naïve actresses into bed.

  “DeVon,” he slurred. The glass in his hand was obviously not his first of the night. “Just the man I was looking for.”

  I suddenly had a very bad idea where this was going to go. Harlan took a step towards me and when he spoke again, it was all I could do to keep from gagging. His breath reeked of liquor, tobacco and something so foul that I almost felt bad fo
r the guy. Almost.

  “I’ve decided that I’m going to let you represent me.”

  The hand not on Krissy’s back curled into a fist. I wasn’t fond of people I liked telling me what I was going to do, much less people I couldn’t stand. “Is that so?” I kept my tone mild.

  “I’ve been thinking about changing agencies for a while,” he said. “Margo used to be the hottest thing in town, but she’s getting old and I need someone new. Someone like you. Someone who can convince these studios of what they’re missing by not hiring me.”

  If Krissy hadn’t been standing next to me, I would’ve had a couple things to say to Harlan about why he hadn’t done any decent work in fifteen years, but I was trying very hard to get Krissy to see me in a different light. If I could respond politely to this asshole, it might go a long ways to making this work tonight.

  “I’m sure Margo can make a chance to retain her number one client.” I gave myself a pat on the back for not smirking when I said it. Everyone knew Margo wanted to dump him.