Indiscreet by Nicole French

8

“You look good, Flower.”

Theo’s eyes slid over me once more in a way that made me squirm. He had always had the ability to make me feel undressed, no matter what I was wearing. “Better than the last time I saw you.”

Will gritted his teeth. “And you look fucking stupid.” He darted a glare at Max del Conte. “He needs to go. Now.”

But del Conte only shrugged. “My son is getting ready to assume more leadership positions in the business. He needs more negotiation experience. He’ll stay.”

“We’re not negotiating anything if he’s here,” Will bit back as he stood back up. “And he has a restraining order that he’s already violated once. Does he want to go back to prison? The only reason we’re staying in town is to make sure justice gets served.”

“You may want to rethink that.”

I hovered behind my chair, ready to make for the door at a moment’s notice, but as del Conte spoke, my skin felt like it turned to glass.

“Sit down,” he ordered both of us calmly. He raised an arched brow. “Fitz.”

Will’s hand around mine squeezed hard enough I thought my fingers might crack. It was one of the only times I’d heard anyone besides photographers, tabloids, and the one fan call Will by his stage name, clearly a shortened version of his full, given name: Fitzwilliam. With one word, del Conte made it indubitably clear exactly what Will was to him: a property. Certainly not a person.

“Will, you need to listen,” Tricia put in, though she was quickly silenced by Will’s black gaze.

“You did this, didn’t you?” he hissed. “Some things never change.”

She didn’t get a chance to answer before del Conte spoke again.

“Five minutes in the same room won’t hurt anyone,” del Conte continued, caressing the edge of his scotch glass. “And Theo will stay safely on this side of the table from you, Ms. Sharp. After I’ve said my piece, if you like, both of you can pretend this meeting never happened and continue to make your case in court. Though, as I said before, I wouldn’t advise it. Perhaps you’ll let me explain why.”

Will’s jaw flexed as he ground his teeth together. Every muscle in his neck and face seemed to be cast in high relief; even beneath the confines of his shirt, I could see his biceps bunch. He didn’t look like a privileged actor sitting down to dinner at a fancy restaurant. He looked like a Viking who wanted to set fire to the whole joint.

“Yo.” Benny reached across me to nudge his friend in the shoulder. “I’ll take Maggie home if you want. But you need to hear Max out, and I’d prefer to be here with you.”

Will darted a nasty glance at him. “I’m sure you do.”

Benny shrugged, guilt playing across his face as he glanced at me. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to me. “But if you didn’t come, he wouldn’t have either.” Then he looked back at Will. “F, you need to listen.”

Will opened his mouth to protest, but I shook my head and finally spoke.

“It’s fine,” I said, finally able to find my voice as I managed to slide into one of the chairs. “I’ll stay.”

“Lil—”

I looked up, fighting every instinct I had to beg Will to take me out of this room. This restaurant. This city. But something was clearly important enough that Benny was willing to risk his friend’s wrath by bringing me here. If Benny was as loyal as Will said he was, that by itself told me we needed to do as he said and hear del Conte out.

“Where you go, I go, right?” My voice sounded small. Pathetic. Even more scared than I felt, which was already genuinely terrified.

The harsh scowl that had been on Will’s face since we walked into the room softened slightly. His gaze drifted down to my lips. Then he closed his eyes and blew out a long breath.

“Right,” he said as he sat down next to me. He turned to del Conte. “You have five minutes. Starting now.”

Again, that terrible, nasty smile appeared. “Good boy. Well, imagine how surprised we all were to read the news two weeks ago.” Del Conte took a measured sip of his scotch. “Fitz Baker. One of Beauregard Pictures’ most valuable commodities. Back from the dead, wouldn’t you know?”

Will ground his teeth. “What do you want, Max?”

“Will, be nice,” Tricia started, but quieted quickly when she was once again on the receiving end of her son’s foul temper.

“Don’t think for a fucking second I don’t know you sold me out to these vultures, Mom. I’ll deal with you later.”

My gaze bounced between Will, the del Contes, Tricia, and Benny. The tension in the room was growing exponentially by the second, and by the way Benny was also looking at his friend, we both were coming to the same conclusion: there was no way Will was going to last five minutes.

“Right,” Will said, turning back to del Conte. “So. What the fuck do you want?”

Del Conte’s eyes turned to steel. He didn’t say a word.

Will’s eyes narrowed. “I’m out of the game, Max. You know that. I crashed a boat to escape this rat race. I’m out.”

“Ah, but are you?”

Will’s eyes flared, and he opened his mouth like he was about to shout every obscenity in the book at del Conte’s smug face when he was interrupted by the entry of a waifish server.

“Hello, everyone,” she said as she approached the table looking bored until she caught sight of who was sitting around it. “Oh. Oh! Hel-hello there.”

Will rolled his eyes, Benny winked at the waitress, and Tricia snapped her fingers in the air. Several large gold bracelets on her wrist clinked together.

“Can we order sometime this century?” she asked.

The waitress, newly recovered from the shock of seeing Will, straightened toward the rest of the group. “Of course. What can I get for you all tonight? Would you like to hear the specials?”

Del Conte didn’t even spare the girl a second glance. Instead, his focus was purely on Will. “You know what I want,” he said. “It’s not on the menu.”

I looked between them, back and forth, without a clue. “Will, what is he talking about?”

“Maybe come back in a few minutes, honey,” Benny told the waitress, who, bug-eyed, scurried out of the room, much to Tricia’s irritation.

“Ben!” she hissed. “I was hungry!”

Benny shrugged. “You can eat in five minutes, Trish. That’s all this is gonna take.”

“You had a contract, Mr. Baker.” Del Conte pulled the attention back to himself. “For three pictures with Beauregard, a studio owned by del Conte Entertainment, you might recall. You only completed two. Now, I’m not a lawyer, son, but I employ some very good, expensive ones. And they all tell me that if you don’t fulfill the terms, you’re going to be in breach. Which, perhaps you may remember, can get very expensive.”

“Fine.” Will tipped back in his chair, looking like a kid caught in the principal’s office and not an Oscar-nominated actor in a five-star restaurant. “I’ll be in breach of contract. What’s the penalty?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Theo sneered. “How about a hundred mil, asshole?”

Will’s chair legs slammed to the ground. “That’s not what was in the original contract. A breach only cost twenty. Twice my original fee. No more.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, everyone,” Benny said. “Let’s not go crazy here.”

Tricia grumbled into her glass while my jaw dropped. Will talked about a twenty-million-dollar penalty like it was a few hours of community service, not more money than most people would ever see in their lifetimes.

“That was before you decided to jump ship, my long-haired friend.” Del Conte reached across the table and tugged on a loose lock of Will’s hair. “This, though. I think my son is right. This is going to need to come off. Can’t have my biggest commodity looking like an extra in a Biblical drama.”

Will smacked the fingers away with a loud slap that made me flinch. “You can keep your fucking hands to yourself.”

Del Conte shook out his hand. And laughed. “Still have that rebellious streak, I see. Well, it was always a money-maker on film. Not so much off, though.” His humor turned ice-cold. “Now. It would be better for everyone here if you remembered that I own you. End of discussion.”

Will was practically vibrating. “How do you figure, Max?”

The look spreading across the older man’s face couldn’t be called a smile. Smiles make people happy. They glow. Max del Conte’s expression sent chills down my spine. It was nothing short of evil.

“By the time of your ‘accident,’ your last two films with Beauregard Pictures earned three times their budget, and well over half a billion dollars. Each.” He drummed his fingertips on the tabletop. “You owe me one more, which you pulled out of under false pretenses. Fraud, if you will. Beauregard might need to reassess its damages. Emotional, of course. Financial. A lot of people lost their jobs on that final picture because the star wasn’t around to do it. Sets were destroyed. Grips, PAs, costume designers, effects people. Everyone lost income. And someone is responsible, don’t you think?”

I held my breath. Beside me, Benny studied the table. Will’s expression told me that even though he had money, he didn’t have that much money. Definitely not the kind of money that could take on a beast like Del Conte Entertainment and win.

“All right,” he said finally, speaking through his teeth. “So you want me to do one last film?”

“Not just any film,” del Conte said. “This one.”

A script landed in the middle of the table with a hard slap. Will pulled it in front of us to read the cover.

“Green Lantern?” He looked up, disgusted. “Seriously? This is damaged property. No one has been able to make this concept work. You might as well flush three hundred million dollars down the toilet.”

“Theo here will be overseeing it. He’s got his thumb on the pulse right now. He’ll do a good job producing.”

I glanced at Theo. He winked. I shuddered.

“I’m not signing on to a franchise, Max,” Will said as he flipped through the pages. “And this writing is shit.”

“We’ll cross the franchise bridge when we get to it,” del Conte said as he fondled his scotch glass. He took a long drink and smacked his lips. “Funny thing about superhero movies. They tend to make a lot of money. I’m sure you can make it something worth watching. The world is going to clamor for the next Fitz Baker movie. You’ll give them a good show.”

“Bro.” Benny’s voice pulled Will’s attention. He looked down at the script and back up with raised brows, as if to say, “that’s life.” To Will’s right, Tricia studied her glass, uncharacteristically quiet.

Will looked through a second, smaller stack of papers under the script. “What’s this?”

“Your new contract,” del Conte replied. “As I said, we require some…addenda to the old one. Consider it a generous penalty for your original breach.”

Will flipped through the papers. “Ah. I see. Bit of a finder’s fee in here, huh, Mom?”

Tricia examined her French-tipped nails. “It’s a standard agent fee that’s none of your business. It doesn’t come out of your cut, whatever that will be.”

Will’s brows rose as he thumbed to another page. “Do I look like I’m still fifteen fucking years old to you? It’s in my contract. And it’s not going to be this, I can tell you that.” He passed the papers to Benny, who immediately glanced through whatever section they were talking about.

“Oh, hell no!” Benny exclaimed. “That is not what we talked about, Max. This is half what his standard fee was, not to mention there’s no back end. You want him to honor a final film, it needs to be fair and square.”

Tricia choked on her wine. Benny glanced at her, confused, until he turned back to the contract. “What the…” He glared at Tricia. “You conniving bitch. Did you really think you were going to negotiate Will’s back end percentage for yourself?”

Tricia shrugged, but wouldn’t meet Will’s or Benny’s eyes. Across the table, Theo chuckled, and del Conte raised a silver brow.

“Tricia was very helpful in locating her son, I must admit,” he said. “We agreed she should be compensating for it.”

Will’s gaze could have turned his mother to salt if she’d actually had the guts to look at him instead of her glass.

Benny shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he paged through the rest of the contract. Then he shoved the contract across the table to del Conte. “It’s a no go.”

But del Conte didn’t even touch the stack of papers. “I think you’ll want to reconsider,” he said calmly before taking another sip of his scotch.

“And why’s that?” Benny demanded. “Will here is the most in-demand name in the world. You said it yourself—he was bankable before he took off. Now he’s back, and you want his first film. Maybe his only film. That’s gonna cost you, no matter what.”

“No, it won’t. Because if you fight it, we’re happy to leak this.” Del Conte looked to Theo, who gleefully pushed a tablet across the table. He licked his teeth all the way around, like a predator getting ready to dive into its kill.

On the screen, what I saw made my entire stomach drop to the floor.

The bar was immediately familiar. The torn vinyl seating. The haze where no one bothered to regulate smokers. The bandstand in the back of the room, and the pool table in the front, where a clearly inebriated woman was currently joking with whoever was holding the camera.

“Come on,” cajoled the speaker. “Show us. You said you would. You lost the game, fair and square. Show us them titties.”

“Show ’em!” multiple men in the background shouted while the woman grinned lasciviously from beneath blue-shadowed eyelids. She looked around with glazed eyes, back and forth, then giggled and pulled up her top to reveal bare, sagging breasts to the camera.

“Yeah…” cooed the cameraman with a satisfied voice that made me sick. “That’s right, honey. Shake ’em.”

“Jesus,” Will muttered, turning his face away.

“Who is that?” Benny asked.

I gulped, unable to tear my gaze away as the excruciatingly familiar woman beckoned the cameraman to the back of the bar and started to unbutton his jeans as she sank to her knees.

“It’s my mother,” I said in a voice I barely recognized as my own.

Tricia stared at me with something that could only amount to pure disgust. “This is the best you could do, Will? Trailer trash with a mother who can’t keep her legs closed?”

I buried my head in my hands as the clear sounds of the camera owner’s moans started to fill the room. I felt like I was going to be sick.

“That’s enough!” Will reached across the table for del Conte’s tablet, but it was swiftly tucked out of reach, the terrible video gone. Will glared. “I don’t even want to know how you got that. But you’ll delete it right now.”

“It wasn’t hard. She had no idea who I was in the first place, and unlike her daughter, she wasn’t interested in fighting me at all.”

My head shot up to find Theo sneering at me.

“You bastard,” I whispered.

“No, Flower,” he said. “That’s you.”

I was up and out of my chair like a flash, practically hurling myself across the table with a clang of silverware and dishes. I had never been a violent person, but all of my fears of confronting Theo disappeared at the thought of him subjecting my mother to anything near what he had put me through. He was a monster. A life-ruiner. And all I could think about was getting rid of him in any way possible.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I shouted. “What in the hell is wrong with you? Do you enjoy causing people pain, you fucking psycho?”

“Hey, hey, baby.” Will pulled me back down to my chair with some difficulty. “Calm, Lil. Calm.”

“You’ll want to muzzle yourdog, there, Baker,” Theo said as he picked a piece of lint off his jacket sleeve. “She can be a biter. I should know.”

Will looked up like he wanted to jump across the table next, but before he could, Benny cut into the conversation.

“Max,” he said as he set a hand on Will’s shoulder. “Brass tacks. You knew from the start I was never going to take this, so what do you want?"

“The same thing I’ve wanted for the last four years,” del Conte replied with that same eerie calm he’d exuded the entire time we’d been there. “My money’s worth.”

Benny sighed as he pulled the contract back. “I have to look things over and get back to you. Some of these terms are embarrassingly bad. If it ever got out, it would ruin my reputation along with Will’s. You understand.”

“We’re going to have to look it over,” Tricia put in. “Right?”

“What?” Will’s scowl beelined back to Max. “What is she talking about?”

“That’s messed up, Trish. Even for you,” Benny muttered beside him.

“As a matter of course,” said del Conte. “We promised to recognize Ms. Owens-Baker as Fitz’s representative. We reserve the right to negotiate only as long as she is involved.”

I blinked. Could they do that?

“Absolutely not.” Will still had his hand on my shoulder. “I don’t want her anywhere near this beyond her ‘finder’s fee’ or whatever the fuck you promised. But aside from that, if you want your money, you want my face at the premiere and on the poster, you get my mother and your son the fuck off this project.”

“Will, now come on,” Trish protested, but Will held his palm toward her while he continued speaking.

“Do your worst, Max. I left this world a long time ago, and that meant the money too. Put out that video and deal with the lawsuit that comes with your son, a convicted sex offender, releasing unlicensed pornography. Bankrupt me if you want. But we both know you won’t be getting anywhere near the value of this contract by battling me in court for five years.”

I gasped. I understood better that there was no love lost between Will and his mother, but his willingness to sacrifice everything to avoid working with her was jarring.

“It’s me or her, me or him,” he said to del Conte. “What’s it gonna be?”

Del Conte’s silvery eyes darted back and forth between Will and Tricia, not even sparing a glance at his son, but after a moment, he just shrugged. “That’s fine. Tricia is off the project. Benny, you’ll arrange the final version.”

“Max!” crowed Tricia.

“But there’s one other thing.” Del Conte ignored both Tricia and Theo’s complaints, and this time, he finally turned his black, penetrating stare directly on me. “This one’s for you, sweetheart. There’s not much we can do about my son’s past mistakes with you, but that’s what they are: the past. If you’d like this little video of your mother to stay private, I would highly recommend recalling any kind of restraining order you might have against Theo, not to mention any charges filed resulting in a particular hearing coming up.”

My mouth dropped, suddenly dry. “What—what?”

“Absolutely not,” Will put in fiercely. “This son of a bitch has been straight-up harassing her for weeks now. We have documentation, Max.”

“It’s her decision, not yours,” del Conte said. “Theo can do most of his work here, but I can’t have my producer unable to work on set if your little friend here chooses to show up.” He drained his scotch glass and turned to me. “It’s up to you, sweetheart,” he said. “But it’s all or nothing. Refuse, and there’s no movie. Your mother will be masturbatory aid to every fifteen-year-old boy in America while I’ll set my lawyers to taking everything your lover has. Or, you can do as I ask and make all of our lives a lot easier. You choose.”

Before I could answer, Theo held up the tablet and tapped play again, causing the sound of my mother’s sloppy moans to fill the room.

“Maggie,” Will said beside me. “Don’t—”

“Okay,” I agreed before he could stop me. “O-okay. I’ll do it.”

Theo turned off the recording and grinned. Del Conte nodded with satisfaction.

“Good,” he said, then looked to Will. “And you’ll do the picture, which of course includes a full promotional tour, as well as some other promotional duties to make up for the ones you missed before. I, and everyone else in this room, will sign an NDA when filming wraps, and Theo’s phone and all original recordings will be destroyed. If you quit, well…I’ll take everything you have in court, and this pretty little girl’s mother will be trending as the MILF the whole planet wants to fuck.” He tipped his head. I wanted to punch him in the face. “Your choice…Fitz.”

Beside me, Will recoiled at the second casual use of his stage name. His big shoulders wilted visibly, and Benny rubbed one lightly out of sympathy. I wanted to curl into him and hide away from the shit-eating grin on Theo’s face.

“Okay,” he said. “Benny and I will go through the contract tonight and have it messengered tomorrow.”

Del Conte nodded with approval. Business concluded, the entire table stood up at once, as if none of us ever had any intent to eat once the confrontation was over. Del Conte and Theo immediately turned to the door.

“One more thing.”

The men stopped on their way out and turned back to Will. Del Conte appeared mildly irritated at being stalled while Theo looked snide, as usual. Will strode up to him, making it clear just how many inches over Theo’s smaller five feet, ten inches he towered. Theo cowered slightly. He had to.

“You might have to be my producer, but let me make one thing clear. You stay the fuck away from Maggie. You don’t text her. You don’t talk to her. You don’t touch her. Like I said before, you fucking look at her wrong one time, and you are going to wish you were dead after what I’ll do to you.” Will brought a big hand up and hovered it around Theo’s neck, almost like he was going to grab him, though no contact was made. “You might have won this battle, but don’t think for a second you won the war.”

They stared at each other for a long, long time, the din of the restaurant filling the room for a few moments while the two men barely even blinked. But eventually, Theo did, shrinking slightly from Will’s fiery gaze. Then he leaned out of Will’s reach and ducked to the other side of the table.

“We’ll see,” Theo said as he followed his father out of the room. To me, he grinned, a cold, nasty smile that chilled me to the core. “See you soon…Flower.”