Dream Man (Executive Women in Love Book 1) (7 page)

Whatever happened would stay on tape and other than editing for the usual expletives or inappropriate behavior, this would be it. In this scene, Melania and Max were playing who they really were. As to whether or not they were involved in real life, it was up to the viewers to decide. Felicity previously didn’t believe they had
ever
been involved. Although she now had her doubts.

They began to roll.

Melania entered the room on Max’s arm from a side entrance and allowed him to pull out her chair at their table. A server greeted the two, took their drink orders, returned with their drinks, and informed them of the dinner specials.

“I’ll take the tuna,” Melania said.

“I’ll have the steak, rare, please.” Max sipped his martini.

“So how was Paris?” Melania asked while sipping her white wine.

“I just returned from Sydney.”

Melania downed the rest of her wine.

Good,
Felicity thought, a
little alcohol always helps.

“I happen to know you flew into Paris two days ago.”

“It was for a layover. It’s not like I had time to enjoy it much.” Max seemed irritated with Melania.

“Still, you could have flown me there. We could have spent some time together in the city of lights. I’ve never seen the Eifel Tower or cruised on the Seine. A poor Costa Rican girl like me could only dream of seeing such things.” Melania leaned forward and took Max’s hand. She blinked her dramatically long, Felicity knew-to-be-fake, eyelashes at him. “You promised to show me the world.”

Right, I’m sure he did.
Felicity fidgeted in her seat surprised at her own emotional responses and struggled to keep control of them.

“There will be other times. I have a movie scheduled for filming in Italy starting in June. Depending on your schedule maybe you can join me for a short stint in Rome.”

“You should squeeze me in. I would deserve it. After all of these tedious interviews, appearances, and excruciating talent training, I think I deserve a vacation.” Melania waved in the direction of the server to catch his attention.

The server approached the table. Melania smiled sweetly. “
Por favor
, another glass of wine?” She glanced at Max’s barely touched martini. “For you, Max?”

“No, I’m okay.”

Melania shrugged. “So, anyway, Mr. Max, are you going to schedule time for me to come to Italy?”

“I told you I’d try.”

“Now that you’re home, we could go to the beach and maybe go shopping this weekend. I need some new clothes . . . desperately. I’ve had to wear the same outfit twice now.”

Felicity shook her head.
Spoiled thing.

“We’ll see.”

“What do you mean, we’ll see? I do everything you ask, yet when I want something, you behave as though it’s a bother. Am I a nuisance to you?”

Max took Melania’s hand and kissed it. “No, darling, of course not. You’re very important to me. You know it.”

Melania shook her head. “No, no, it’s not true. I understand you spend time with other girls, yet you don’t have enough time for me.”

“When have I not been there when you needed me?”

Melania pursed her ruby red lips and stared at Max. “I feel like every time I call you I’m interrupting something.”

“You know I’m there for you.”

He pulled her to him and kissed her cheek.

Dammit.
He had to be involved with her after all. The actions between the two of them confirmed everything Felicity had read about their obvious affair and his philandering. He was an out-and-out cad after all. What the hell was wrong with her thinking he’d be any different?

The dinners arrived. Max voraciously dug in while Melania picked at her food and hardly swallowed a bite. She asked for another glass of wine. Her third.

A waif like Melania wouldn’t be able to handle all the wine. Yet, the conversation seemed to hit a lull. Felicity waited for something juicy to happen despite her envy.

“I think it’s time for me to go out with the girls. Date around. Meet some American boys. Perhaps you are too old for me . . .”

Now we’re talking.
Precisely what Felicity needed, a little tension and drama.

“. . . And I don’t think you’ll care one bit any way.” Melania pouted. “In fact, maybe I should start tonight. I hear The Cheetah will be hopping tonight. Maybe I’ll check it out.”

Felicity expected to see some kind of emotion reaction on Max’s part. Maybe see him get a little angry or display some jealousy.

“If that’s what you think will make you happy, you should.” Max busily ate his steak, seeming to delight in the taste. “You’d better eat up, or else the liquor is going to go to your head, and I’ll have to tuck you into bed.”

“Oh, I’ve lost my appetite.” She pushed her plate away. “Besides, I have something that will give me a little pick-me-up for the night.”

Uh-oh.
Now we’re treading on dangerous waters
. Not only if little miss poor girl going to taint her reputation with implied drug use but compromise Max’s associations. Felicity knew the last thing Max wanted the world to think was he’d encourage such behavior.

“I don’t think you would do that. You could be disqualified for the beauty pageant and you don’t want that now, do you?” Max pointed to her plate. “Eat or else there will be no going out for you tonight.”

“You treat me like a child.”

“If you act like one then that’s how you’ll be treated.”

Melania pouted again but complied with Max’s request and ate her meal.

Whew. That was close
. Felicity didn’t want to lose the scene. Max might insist the scene not be aired, if it got too dark. Felicity hoped it would still be okay for the show.

If Max exercised his veto power then Felicity would have to eat the cost of the night’s shoot. Or
he
would since he was the named director.

Yet after the end of the episode, Felicity was still uncertain about the status of Max and Melania’s relationship.

Max was irritated with Melania’s petulance during the dinner scene at The Crossroads. He wanted to beeline it out of there with the little witch. His bodyguards were in attendance waiting for the signal to get them out the side entrance.

Yet he’d hoped to have a word with Felicity.

Felicity seemed extremely busy giving orders to her staff. And frankly, he wasn’t sure he’d approve the scene. He’d have to sit with her and edit the heck out of it. He thought the scene might taint the entire premise of
Executive Women
and give a poor image to the playhouse. He wanted to show the world how appreciative his foreign acting students were, not paint a picture that they were as spoiled and overindulged as the next American actress or model.

He had to talk with Felicity. Now.

He attempted to grab her attention but had no success as she flinted by him.

Was she purposely trying to avoid me?

Max followed Felicity and tapped her on the shoulder. She looked back, surprised. “Hey, Felicity. Can I talk with you?”

Her eyebrows shot up, challenging him. To think he thought he might ask her out to dinner after this shoot. Obviously, the mood was wrong.

“I hope you’re not going to threaten to cut the scene.”

So that’s all she cared about?
“Actually, we’ll get together on the scene next week”
Damn! She appeared pissed. About what he had no idea.
“Since you mentioned it first. It may be a little damaging to Melania’s campaign as well as putting the show off to a bad start.”

“What did you expect? This is reality. We have to film drama, no?”

“I guess.”

“Look, the idea is if Melania has gone in the direction of showing her spoiled unappreciative side, that’s good. Then we’ll have the opportunity to show her redeeming herself . . . we’ll figure it out. We’ll get additional footage. Get into the poor family background, whatever it takes and all in time before she competes in the pageant in November.”

“If you say so. I’d like to storyboard it with you so we can take the appropriate steps.”

“Okay. What is your schedule for next week?” Felicity glanced in the direction of Melania. Max followed Felicity’s gaze and saw Melania leaning against the wall tapping her shoe and glaring at them. “Better yet, text it to me. You better not keep the princess waiting too long. Anyway, I’ve got to run. Thanks for coming.” Felicity squeezed his arm, gave him a winning smile, and turned on her heel to chat with the other studio personnel.

Max longed to stay and fix whatever bothered her.

She couldn’t possibly think he was involved with Melania, could she? Maybe
that’s
why she seemed pissed.

But, then, Max couldn’t quite figure Felicity out. He’d been used to women falling all over him. Felicity was all about business. As right she should be. Yet she gave him mixed signals.

Maybe Max feared that if he’d engaged in an affair with Felicity he’d end up pulling a stunt like his father had. He didn’t want to be like his father but he believed it was in his blood. That was why it was best for Max to remain single. Keep his emotions out of all things relating to women.

And he’d done a good job of keeping things at bay. He’d made it clear to every woman he’d been involved with there would be no strings attached. Except for the occasional starry-eyed gal, most of them understood the dates, even if sex was involved, would lead to nothing more. As long as he was honest, he wasn’t responsible for the consequences.

Yet with Felicity, things were different, even before they got started. The fact was Max cared about Felicity.

Melania stomped over to him, jolting him out of his thoughts and tugged his arm. “Come on, Max, you said you’d take me to The Cheetah.”

The Cheetah it wouldn’t be. Melania looked like she was ready for bed.

Chapter 7

“We’ve got enough footage, Max. Really.” Felicity fought tooth and nail against Max’s objections to keeping the scene he played in at the restaurant with Melania. Her tenacity irreversibly impressed him. He rather enjoyed seeing her fight her points and even though he knew he’d give in, he let her continue just a little longer than necessary. With hand on hip she pursued, “We want to show Melania had this school girl crush on you. However, you don’t see her in that way. She’s your underling. You want to help her hone her acting skills. Now if we put these scenes together, like this . . .” Felicity drew a line on the white board between the initial scene at the restaurant and the ride she’d insisted he take her to show her the iconic Hollywood sign. In a classic show of drama, Melania tried to kiss him over the out point. “. . . we can demonstrate she realizes you may not share her feelings.”

Felicity dazzled him. Max wasn’t sure how much longer he could play the role of “boss.” She’d literally been the show runner the entire time. Doug saw it from the beginning. Now that Max had gotten into the swing of things with making the
Queen’s Confession
at the local studio, he’d been preoccupied with his Jack Forth role.

The television stuff was interesting. Yet, he had to admit, he came alive when he made movies. Besides, he needed to devote more time to his playhouse. “Maybe we could have the scene when she slammed the door in my face be put together on the same night as the scene of the look-out point.”

“Excellent idea. Now we can fool around with the sound bites, a little frankenbiting, if you will, and fix the dialogue. She comes back the next day—that’ll be the scene where you guys meet at lunch and she apologizes for her childish behavior, admits she needs to focus on her beauty campaign—and her volunteer work at the local orphanage. This should improve her image in the public’s eye.”

He loved the way Felicity’s hazel-brown eyes flickered a bright green whenever she got excited about a subject. “You really are in your element. I kinda feel guilty for micro-managing you.”

“Aw, thanks. It’s in my blood. I feel alive when doing this stuff. However, I’m concerned about juggling the two jobs and not having much time for Jenny.”

“How’s she doing?”

“She’s coming along. Her crutches are second nature now. Her cast should be coming off in another month or so. She’s hitting the books, harder than ever. I’m very proud of her.”

And I’m proud of you.

“So I suppose this is going to be a wrap.” Max had nothing else to add. “Have you got the scenes planned for Margo’s studio?”

“In theory. Since I have more flexibility with Margo, I’ve scheduled her in studio interview for next week. I can review all of the other interviews now, if you like.”

She erased the diagrams on the white board. Her butt strained temptingly against a tight fitting blue skirt.

Felicity seemed to catch him feasting his eyes on her as she turned and simply smiled. “Okay then, let’s hit the video room.”

They worked into early evening. “How about some dinner. Maybe a drink?” Max asked.

Felicity glanced at her watch. “Love to. But I can’t. I promised Jenny we’d go to a movie tonight. In fact, I’ll have to grab a burger at the Highway 66 at the mall to make the movie.”

Max absorbed the stab of disappointment. It seemed like they would never get it together. They worked so close yet she seemed so far away from him. “How’s the car doing?”

Felicity shut down the equipment in the video room and walked to her office, Max trailing behind her. “It’s fine. The repairs seem to be holding up. I’ll be getting a new car soon.” She packed her belongings and threw them into her attaché case.

They strolled down the hallway to the elevator. Felicity turned off the lights, as they were the last ones to leave. They rode the elevator down in silence.

They said goodbye to the night watchman and Max held the heavy front glass door for her. “I’ll be tied up the next week or so on the
Jack Forth
set.”

“I’ve got things under control here. If I have any questions, I’ll let you know.”

“I won’t be able to make Margo’s interview. But, I’d like to see the video for the scene.” Max really didn’t need to see it. He’d use it as an excuse to stay in contact with Felicity.

“Sure, whatever you say boss.”

He squeezed her arm. “You’re doing great. You keep up the good work.”

“I will.” She gave him an incredulous gaze, as though to say,
I got this. You know it.

And he did.

Felicity hit a wall of traffic on Highway 407 on her way to the
Executive Women
set. Since Max was busy with the
Jack Forth
movie she’d been on her own at Sharpen but had Doug and other production specialists to her access when needed.

The traffic jam aggravated her and stimulated more upsetting thoughts about Melania and Max.

Regarding her work, she really didn’t have cause for complaints. Max had loosened the reins and let her run things at the show more independently. Felicity’s first clip aired and the initial ratings were excellent. Margo’s footage was going along as planned and Max would be there for the final wrap-up later in the week.

Over the course of the last couple of weeks, they’d reviewed the ton of footage on shots of Melania and Max. Max and Felicity had moved things around to get a good episode on the subject of Max and Melania. Yet it troubled Felicity on a number of levels. For the life of her, Felicity couldn’t figure out the nature of the relationship between Melania and Max.

At times, it seemed as though Max cared for her like a little sister. Other times, as told by the way Melania clung to Max, it seemed as though they could very well be lovers.

Despite all this, whenever Felicity was in Max’s presence she’d felt a strong physical attraction to him. She could swear she’d detected a shared undercurrent of feelings between them. There were many times Felicity could distinctly tell Max wanted to connect with her. On a personal basis. But with Melania ever hovering over him, and then the last time they were together when Max asked her to share a drink, Felicity had plans. Their timing was way off. And, then, maybe that signaled they shouldn’t be together.

Felicity thought she was ahead of time, but the traffic jam put her behind forty minutes, now she would have to fight through Friday rush hour to get to the set and she’d be late for the
Executive Women
shoot.
Dammit! She
engaged her blue tooth and called her production assistant Shantae who’d arrived ahead of her.

“It’s one of those days—running behind. Everything lined up and on schedule?”

“Sure is. What’s up, girl? You sound frantic.”

“I’m caught in traffic. It looks like I’ll be late.”

“No problem. We can get started on the scene. You’ve got everything organized. Don’t go getting yourself in an accident, now.”

Shantae was a godsend. Lucky for Felicity Applaud! let Shantae cut back to part-time so she could help Felicity with the new show.
Teen View
required less of their attention since Applaud! hired other production personnel to assist. Felicity couldn’t imagine surviving a single day of TV production without her ever-present and loyal production assistant. “You’re the best, girl, see you soon.”

A call came in just as she was about to hang up. Felicity didn’t recognize the number and picked it up in curiosity.

“Hey, Felice. It’s Max.”

Her heart nearly dropped to the car floorboard.

Max!

Why would he be calling her? They’d been all caught up on business communications.

“Max. How are you? Everything okay?”

“Yes. Everything is quite all right. The
Jack Forth
movie is running along schedule. I’ll be able to help you next week with the Margo shoot. But, I, ah, we’ve been busy every time we’ve seen each other and . . .”

Right, and with Melania ever lurking.

“. . . you’ve had a lot on your plate. Doug tells me the ratings with
Executive Women
are flying through the roof
.
I wanted to celebrate in your success. I thought I’d like to take you to dinner. Have a real celebration. No interruptions, other things to do, or other people around. A quiet relaxing evening. How’s Saturday for you?”

Wow! He wants to spend time with me.

Tomorrow night. The rules, those dating rules, a guy is supposed to ask you by Wednesday for a Saturday date, right? But, how could she resist him? She could barely contain her excitement. But she didn’t want to sound overly anxious. “You mean tomorrow night?”

“Ah, jeez, I didn’t realize. I haven’t given you much notice. Have you got plans?”

She should say yes.
Remember, the rules. “No. I don’t see why we can’t get together.” She caved but what the hell, why not? She was dying to find out where he was coming from.

“How about I’ll pick you up ‘round seven?”

“Okay.”
Play it cool.
Let him make the moves.

“And dress up, we’ll do it up.”

This had to be a date?
Doubt wiggled its insistent way into her consciousness. But she refused to show it. “Sure thing. See you then.”

He HAD to be attracted to me!

Nah.
He probably just wanted to take her out to celebrate the show’s success.

Perhaps Max only wanted to show his appreciation for her in a professional manner. That had to be it.

But, shouldn’t it be
she
who showed her appreciation? After all, he’d helped her find her Dream Job.

He was an ultimate gentleman and that was all it was.

As well as hot, sexy, incredible . . .
Control, Felicity, exercise control.

Max experienced stomach butterflies all Saturday afternoon. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a date that excited him so much. Should he wear the Bill Blass dark-gray suit or the Calvin Klein black? He’d go with the black and a silk black shirt. No, too austere. Dark-red shirt with the black. Yeah, he’d been told by the ladies he looked good in red.

Now . . . for the flowers. He’d call his florist and would order a fresh dozen pink roses, or was the yellow for friendship? He wanted to go easy with Felice and not too pushy.

In the end, he decided on the yellow.

Max had arranged reservations at the
Coliseum
with a table in the private dining room, separate entrance, the usual. He didn’t want any attention from the press. His friends at his favorite restaurants knew how to handle things for the stars.

And, to top the night off he’d have his driver, Floyd take him in the Bentley. It had an elegant back seat with a soundproof tinted privacy window from the front, a tiny bar, and satellite TV and radio. That way, if they wanted to get romantic, they’d have the opportunity.

Did he want to get romantic?

Hell, yeah.
Maybe he was a little tentative, but he wasn’t getting any younger. If Felice even was remotely interested, he’d better make a move lest someone else sweep her off her feet.

It was time to face his fears. Or else he’d never get a real life.

He arrived at her place fifteen minutes early.
Should I go up now?

He knocked on the door, roses in hand.

Felice answered. She’d swept up her hair and had wisps of light brown curls around her heart-shaped face and flowing down her bare shoulders. Bright brown-hazel eyes greeted him with dark-green speckles peeking out and accentuated by the deep-red dress she wore. She’d applied just the right amount of makeup. Her pale pink lips screamed, “Kiss me.”

Damn.
He knew he needed to control himself. The night hadn’t even started.

“These are for you, my dear.” He gave her the rose bunch. She quickly drew them in and took a deep breath.

“Beautiful, Max. You shouldn’t have. Please come in.”

She turned with the grace of a prima ballerina on high heels and he followed like a puppy dog to her kitchen. She busied herself with finding a vase and putting the flowers in fresh water. Then she set them on the breakfast bar.

“Let me at least give you a drink.” She poured a glass of white wine for each of them. “Jenny’s out with Ben and the dogs at the beach. I’d like to show you my new digs.” She led him to the balcony, screened-in, overlooking a pond with a multi-colored lit fountain. “This is my favorite place. I love the Spanish tile floors and ceiling fan. No too bad, huh?”

“Beautiful.”

Felicity sipped her wine and sighed. “Thanks. I thought we weren’t going to be able to move in until the start of the New Year, but the previous tenant vacated. Still, I need to get cracking on finding the right living room furniture.”

Max nodded. “All in due time, I suppose.” He glanced at his watch.

“Are we okay for time?”

“We’re fine. I do have the driver waiting though.”

“Your driver? What a switch-up.” She dazzled him with her bright smile and motioned for him to follow. “I guess I didn’t really show you everything. Follow me. I’ll give you a quick tour.” She led him away from the patio. “This is the living room.”

He noticed the comfortable but worn appearance of a soft, brown sectional and a large flat-screen TV. He wondered if she even took the time to watch it.

Felicity led him to the hallway and showed him the guest bath, bedroom, Jenny’s room and hers. She gave him a peek-a-boo glance at her bedroom, with a quick door opening and shutting. “I keep my collies in there. They sleep with me most of the time.”

“You’ve done well with the new apartment, kid.”
Now why the hell had he said that?
He attempted to correct his accidental tongue slip. The last time he called her that, he’d pissed her off. “I’m impressed with the layout
.
”
Okay save. Maybe.

She eyed him, brow in the air. “Cut the shit, Max. You’re not going to get very far with me if you keep calling me ‘kid.’”

“I’m sorry. I promise I’ll never utter the word again. Okay?” Max squeezed her arm and winked at her.

Her perturbed appearance disappeared as she smiled.

“Shall we?” he took her arm.