An Unexpected Affair by Elizabeth Lennox
Chapter 2
“I’m sorry, but what is this?” Evie demanded, staring at her agent as if he’d grown satanic horns.
“It’s a contract, Evie. You wanted the part of Lucy. You got it.”
“Yes, but…!” She stared at the addendum. “Random searches of my trailer during filming? Random drug tests? What’s all this about?” she sputtered with outrage.
Jerry sighed, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together as he looked at her over his thick glasses. “Evie, you disappeared at the height of your career. People in this industry just don’t do that,” he sighed. “I mentioned this when you started refusing parts eight years ago, honey. When you just…stopped acting, without letting me do a news release as to why, people began to speculate. They made stuff up and…well, some of the stuff was pretty out there.”
She stood up, slapping the contract down on her agent’s desk. “I went to college!” she countered vehemently. “I wanted an education!”
“Yeah, but you hid it from the world. You wouldn’t let me….”
“NO! Of course I wouldn’t let you release that news. Look at what happened to Emma Watson! She starred in the Harry Potter movies, but as soon as she tried to go to college, Brown University was overrun by reporters trying to catch a picture of her going to class.”
“Yeah, well, at least people didn’t assume she’d died of a drug overdose. And she wasn’t presumed murdered either.” He chuckled at his own joke as he leaned back in his black leather chair. “Look, I agree with you, Evie. This contract is a pile of…you know what,” he substituted because he knew that Evie didn’t approve of cussing. “Don’t do the part. The addendum is insulting, especially for an actor of your caliber. I have a dozen directors who would fight to get you on set. Let me put out feelers! A comeback movie…I could get you millions!” He laughed. “Hell, honey, you could be one of the highest paid actors in the industry if you’d just…!”
Evie ran her hands through her hair in frustration. “Do any of those scripts contain the depth of character that this one does?”
Jerry hesitated, and shook his head. “Well, no. But you could…?”
The office door opened and a tall, irritated man entered the room. “Did she sign it?”
Brock Severson! He was taller than she’d remembered, Evie thought, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him. He fisted his hands on his hips and glared right back at her.
“No, she hasn’t,” Evie replied sarcastically.
Jerry cleared his throat. “Uh…Mr. Severson! It’s a pleasure to meet you!” Always the sycophant, Jerry hurried around his desk, his hand extended.
The jerk ignored Jerry’s hand and turned to Evie. “Are you going to sign it?”
She set her feet, her chin jutting out defiantly. “I’ll sign the regular contract. Not the addendum.”
“Not a chance. If you want to play Lucy, then sign the addendum. I don’t play games. If you start drinking again, you’re out of the movie. If you take any kind of illegal drug, you’re out of the movie. If you don’t show up for any of the pre or post production marketing events, you’ll pay back the production costs for everyone on the set.”
Evie couldn’t believe her ears! “I don’t drink and I’ve never done drugs of any kind!” He might be drool-worthy handsome and ruggedly powerful, but that didn’t excuse his attitude. He didn’t even know her! How could he stand here, listing all of those humiliating contract terms?!
“According to the rumors floating around the industry, you do.”
Her hand sliced through the air with her fury! “You and I both know that rumors in this town are rarely true.”
His eyes narrowed and he braced his hands wide apart on the polished conference room table, glaring right back at Evie. “No, I don’t know that. In fact, from my experience, the rumors circulating through this town are either completely accurate or have at least a hint of truth to them. And even a hint of alcohol or illegal drugs are not allowed on my set.”
Evie stepped closer, looking directly into his eyes. She couldn’t back down, this part was too important. To her and to her life. To her self-esteem. This movie would put her into an entirely different realm of actors! It was a once in a lifetime role.
“Okay, here’s my counter offer,” she replied, moving to the opposite side of Jerry’s conference room table, mimicking his stance. She was intimidated by this guy, but no way was she going to let him see that!
“I don’t negotiate,” he growled out.
Evie ignored him. She hadn’t been working in this industry for the past twenty-three years without learning a thing or two. Granted, she’d been away for several years, but those years had only made her smarter. Harder! Tougher and definitely more determined.
“If you’re going to subject me to random drug test and random trailer searches because of your all-important anti-drug code, then every single member of the crew and cast must be subjected to the same terms. And if you drug test me, then you drug test at least three other cast or crew members on the same day.”
Brock eyed the woman he could have sworn was a delicate, flighty bimbo. Her dark hair and fascinating, silver eyes were all part of a carefully curated image. This woman wasn’t soft. She damn well wasn’t flighty. And damn, she was hot when she leaned over like that. Not only because he could see down her silk blouse. But because those silver eyes glowed with intelligence. A surprise, to say the least. Not to mention, that famous dimple had appeared. He’d seen her smile before. Hell, she’d been plastered on billboards and posters all over the world. That damn dimple was famous! But he’d thought dimples only came out when someone smiled. Not when they were negotiating terms of a contract. Damn it, that dimple distracted him!
“Why would I test the rest of the crew?” he demanded, trying hard not to lose focus as he looked into those gorgeous eyes.
She was trembling with fury. “Because you’re claiming to be anti-drug and anti-alcohol. A better question would be why you wouldn’t do random drug tests for everyone on set?”
She had a valid point, not that he was ready to admit it. “The rest of the crew won’t impact the schedule if they have to head off to rehab again.”
He watched her silver eyes flash with rage and those full, sexy lips compressed into a thin line. But he’d give her credit, the woman rallied quickly.
“So it’s okay if the prop master goes on a wild LSD trip and, while under the influence, unknowingly exchanges the blank bullets in a prop gun for real bullets?” She paused to let that sink in. “Or maybe it would be fine if the makeup artist goes out to a bar one night, has a few too many drinks and sleeps with someone who has…” she threw her arms in the air, “…oh I don’t know…maybe pink eye or a virus. The next morning, that artist rubs her eyes, then does my makeup or the makeup of the other actors? A few days later, we’re all sick!” She paused again and Brock had to concede that she had a valid point. “Or if the camera operator smokes weed in the morning, just enough to get him through the tedium of the constant stops and starts on the set? Or the stagehands that are in control of the heavy machinery, lights, cameras…if they decide to snort a bit of white stuff and don’t notice that loose bolt. Anything could happen and heavy pieces of equipment could be severely damaged, possibly inflicting personal injury!”
“Okay!” he bellowed, pushing up to a standing position, wanting to intimidate her. But she didn’t seem intimidated. Not even a little. Unlike most people who cowered at his anger, Evie Munroe stood up to him. And damn, he couldn’t help but admire her for that.
“You’re right. I concede.” He leaned forward again, glaring at her. “But I’m not taking any chances on you. You will participate in the drug testing as well. No exceptions.”
He watched with fascination as her lips curled up slightly. She mimicked his body language and he knew he was in trouble before she uttered the words. “No exceptions means the director as well.”
Damn! As the producer and director, she was right. “Fine! I’ll be included in the random drug tests. No problem.” He didn’t do drugs. Ever!
“Fine!” she echoed with a curt nod. “Issue number two!” she snapped, pointing to the contract. “If I’m not allowed to drink alcohol,” she smiled, but it was a triumphant expression, “then no one on the set gets to.”
He stared at her, letting those words filter into his brain. He thought about it for a long moment, considering the issues. “Alcohol isn’t illegal. I can’t enforce a total ban on alcohol for the entire crew.”
Her shoulders swung back and forth slightly. “Sure you can,” she purred in a sultry tone that he could feel all the way down to his toes. “You simply require them to sign a contract, just like this one,” she replied and pushed the now-hated contract document across the polished surface of the desk with a single finger. “If they don’t sign the agreement, they don’t work. Isn’t that what you just said about me?”
She had him there. And he didn’t like it. Not one little bit. Not to mention, although he wasn’t a heavy drinker, he occasionally had a glass of scotch after a long day. But he couldn’t argue against her point. “Agreed.”
Evie pushed up from the table, shocked that she’d won. Brock Severson was reputed to be one of the toughest producers and directors to work with in the industry. He demanded so much from his actors and team, but everyone wanted to work with him. Including Evie. She wanted this role desperately. She wanted to get away from the stupid bimbo characters she was offered and sink her teeth into some real acting. This was her chance.
Blinking, she looked around, startled to realize that they were still in her agent’s office and Jerry was standing off to the side. She swallowed a laugh at the shocked, intimidated expression on his face.
“We’re done here,” she whispered, pulling herself back into her shell. She’d revealed more of her true self over the past…however long that argument had lasted…than she ever had in her entire life. Now she needed to process. She needed to close her eyes and breathe away the tension. Looking down at the paper, she scribbled the final concession – that these terms were only enforceable if they were applied to all members of the cast and crew, then signed her name, adding another line where the arrogant, miserable, irritatingly tall, and arrogant…wait, she’d said that already…jerk-man Brock Severson…had she said “arrogant” twice? Didn’t matter. Now, he had a line to sign.
Without another word, Evie picked up her purse and stalked out of her agent’s office. With her head held high, she forced her feet to carry her through the building, ignoring the curious stares of Jerry’s staff.
Even that was shameful, Evie thought as she ducked into the elevator. Leaning against the back wall, she waited until the doors closed before…Nope! She couldn’t break down yet. Her eyes glanced up at the ceiling, then at the panel of buttons. There was a security camera in this space somewhere. There was always a camera somewhere.
When the doors of the elevator opened up, she walked sedately to her silver Mercedes and slid into the driver’s seat. Pressing the button to start the car, Evie pretended that her hands weren’t shaking. She pretended that she was perfectly fine.
A half hour later, she pulled into the driveway of her house, pressed the remote button that opened the gate, then pulled into the garage as the door slid closed behind her and parked her beautiful Mercedes next to the less glamorous hatchback. Only then, when she was sure that there were no cameras anywhere did she finally drop her head into her hands and let the stress of the meeting, the horror and shame of those accusations, wash over her.
Unfortunately, after years of pretending, she still couldn’t let go. Even in the privacy of her garage, a space where there were no cameras, not even windows, Evie still couldn’t let go.
But she knew what would help!
Getting out of the car, she walked into her house. Her precious, beautiful house! “I’m going to be okay,” she whispered to herself as she walked down the hallway, dumping her purse on the floor just inside her bedroom door. She stripped off the linen slacks and silk blouse, tossing them onto her bed as she moved over to her dresser. There she grabbed a pair of workout leggings and a sports bra, not bothering with shoes or socks.
Her house was tiny compared to the other homes in the area, but one space she hadn’t scrimped on was her private gym. Grabbing the boxing gloves, she strapped them on as she walked over to the punching bag. On the way, she hit the button, turning on the stereo system and her favorite playlist started. For boxing, she loved a rock sound that blasted through the room, pumping through her blood. The music was so loud, she couldn’t hear herself think, which was exactly what she wanted. Punching and jabbing, she pushed herself as hard as she could, pounding padded fists against the one hundred pound weight bag until her arms ached.
When the playlist reached the softer, cool down music, Evie felt one hundred percent better. Sweat dripped down her face and arms, and she probably wouldn’t be able to lift her arms tomorrow, but at least she didn’t feel as if she might shatter into a million pieces. Right now, she felt…used up. Tired. But really good!
Stripping off her clothes, she got into the shower and let the warm water soothe her abused muscles. Closing her eyes, she relaxed into the heat of the spray, leaning against the tiles and let the water work it’s magic.
With a chuckle, Evie shampooed her hair, rinsing away the soap, sweat, and long day. “Drugs!” she scoffed. “Right! As if I’d ruin my body and mind by doing drugs!”
When she stepped out, Evie felt better, but her stomach growled. “I know. Food.” She slipped into a robe and headed for the kitchen.
Evie flipped through the script as she nibbled on an apple. “This is so good,” she whispered, feeling a surge of power as she read through the lines. “I get to murder someone!”
With a laugh, she jumped off the stool and spun in a circle, excited despite the humiliating terms of her contract. At this particular moment, she didn’t care that a stupid, arrogant, self-righteous jerk thought that she was a screw up. She was going to play Lucy!
