Authors: Jean C. Joachim
“Don’t
play with me, Gunther. Our engagement is a business arrangement. I’m not stupid.”
“It
can be more than that, Elsa, baby, if you’ll warm up a little.”
She
laughed. “Always the seducer, aren’t you?”
“Hey,
you’re my fiancée. I’m supposed to be getting plenty, instead I’m getting
nothing.”
“You’ll
get it. After we tie the knot.”
“How
do I know? I need a refresher now and then.”
“Isn’t
that what you pay secretaries for?”
“Hey!
Don’t talk about Erica like that. She’s not a hooker.”
“Isn’t
she? Doesn’t she do everything except sleep with you, for a very generous
salary?”
“That’s
business. You and I are a partnership.”
“That’s
a business arrangement of sorts. But I’m not getting my half. You’re in most of
my publicity shots for my new movie, but you never cast me in yours.”
“I’m
doing musicals. Do you sing? Do you dance?”
“I
can learn.” She sidled up to him and slid a finger down his cheek.
He
removed her hand. “I’m not risking millions of dollars on an actress in
training. It’s not my money and not my sole decision, either. No one would go
for me putting you in a musical, Elsa. I just can’t.”
She
made a face. “Then what’s our partnership for?”
“I’ll
make other movies.”
“You’d
better. I don’t like tying myself down and getting nothing in return.”
“Are
you tying yourself down?”
“What
do you mean?” She balled her hands into fists and planted them on her hips.
“
Celebs ’R Us
suggested you were sleeping
with your co-star in Spain. Were you? If you were… I don’t intend to become a laughing
stock because my wife is fucking every leading man she comes across.”
“I’m
not fucking anyone. Besides, who would know?”
“Everyone
would know. You’re not good at keeping secrets.”
“And
what about you and your secretary?”
“Doe-eyes?”
“What?
What did you call her?”
“Erica?
I’m not sleeping with her.”
Not that I
wouldn’t, given half a chance.
“You
expect me to believe that? She’s hot.”
“She’s
also very good at her job. I need her. I’m not about to seduce her and lose
her.”
“Oh?
It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Are
you keeping track? Because I have some statistics of my own. Let’s see…there
was the director on the picture you did in Sweden. And the lead in that
off-Broadway play you did for six months. Did you bang him every night, or only
on matinée days?”
“I
don’t have to listen to this,” she said, raising her chin.
Gunther
grabbed her by the arm. “Oh yes you do. As long as you’re my fiancée. Every
word. You’re no lily-white virgin, baby. So don’t start throwing rocks at me.”
“You’re
a bad boy, a seducer, a
ruiner
of young women. You’ve
broken more hearts on this couch than I’ve broken in my entire life.”
“The
girls know what they’re doing. They’re old enough. It’s a little innocent fun.”
“There’s
nothing innocent about it. You’re a snake, an evildoer.”
He
tightened his grip until she gasped. “I don’t like to be called names.”
“If
the shoe fits.” She pawed at him, but his hold was like iron. “Let go. You’re
hurting me.”
Gunther
dropped his hand. “Did you come here just to insult me, or can you curb your
tongue and go to dinner? We need to be seen.” He rolled down his shirt sleeves
and grabbed his suit jacket.
“Okay,
okay.” She turned her attention to reapplying her lipstick.
“I
hate arguing, and it’s all we ever do.”
She
sidled up to him. “Maybe after dinner, I’ll be the dessert.”
“That
would be a nice change.”
Like I almost
believe you. Do I even care?
Her
sweet expression turned sour as he opened the door for her. “Always have to
have the last word, don’t you?”
He
grinned.
“Someday,
some girl’s gonna get you good. I hope I’m there to see it.”
Wish all you want. That’s never
going to happen.
Gunther
took her to The Satin Club because he was too mad to come up with any other
place.
A quick dinner then I dump her
home. I don’t need this shit. And she’s my fiancée? I don’t think so.
Elsa
was clearly bored with the restaurant. “The same menu every time. I’m tired of
lobster and steak. Give me a good pasta.”
Why am I marrying her? Selfish
bitch.
“We come here because I like it and it’s good for
business. I’m seen here. You should pay more attention to that.”
“I
can be seen anywhere. I’m not an anonymous producer, like you. The public knows
who I am. My face is famous. I’m seen everywhere I go. I don’t have to arrange
publicity. It just comes to me…unlike you.”
He
narrowed his eyes. “Is it your time of the month, Elsa?”
She
threw the water in her glass at him, drenching his face and hair. He jumped up and
swore. Conversation stopped, and all eyes turned to them. The second she did
it, she looked horrified. “I’m sorry, Gunther! Really. I didn’t mean it.”
He
whipped out a handkerchief and dried off. Rage burned in his breast.
Humiliate me at The Satin Club! How dare you!
You’re finished.
He pulled out his wallet and dropped some bills on the table.
He leaned over and whispered, “This engagement is over. Goodnight.”
“You
wouldn’t!” Her face clouded with anger. With only a polite bow, he exited the
establishment amid the whispers and curious stares of patrons and staff.
He
seethed all the way home.
This is going
to be in all the papers tomorrow.
Celebs ’R Us
is always there. I saw bulbs popping. I’m going to look bad. Gunther
Quill, bad boy producer. Damn! Elsa, you bitch, we’re done. Through. This
engagement is so over.
He’d
been working hard to improve his image. Now Elsa had put him back to square
one. The minute he decided he’d never marry her, his anger lessened. It drained
out of him like infection from a wound. He smiled and sat back, relaxing.
Be free and stay free.
* * * *
Erica
awoke early. She read the morning papers, including
Celebs ’R Us,
before going to work. There it was in giant
headlines.
Beauty
Tames the Beast
. Bad boy Gunther Quill
gets a cooling off by big screen beauty, Elsa Marquette.
The
picture of Gunther with water dripping off his head made Erica’s mouth fall
open.
Amy
joined her, scratching her butt and yawning. “What’s up?”
Erica
passed the story to her roommate. “Whoa! The bad boy has done it this time.
Plastered all over the press. Goody!” Amy snickered, putting on her glasses,
and moving the newspaper closer to read.
“What
do you think he said to her?” Erica asked.
“With
Gunther, it could be any of a thousand things. He’s so nasty. Looks like he got
what he deserved.”
He’s not nasty with me. Not so
much. Maybe a little sharp.
“You don’t know what
she said. Elsa Marquette is no sweetheart, Amy.”
“Hell
no! She’s as bad as he is. That’s why they made the perfect couple. I love
seeing all the bad P.R. Gunther hates bad publicity like the plague.”
Poor guy. Bet it wasn’t all his
fault.
“Who throws a glass of water at their fiancé in a
restaurant filled with reporters?”
“A
woman looking for some publicity herself.”
“Do
you think he’ll dump her?”
“Nah.
This is just another news story. They’re solid.”
Crap.
Erica
dressed quickly. She sensed he needed her. Sure enough, when she entered the
office, Gunther was already walking back and forth, running his hand through
his hair.
“Where
the hell have you been?” He stopped and glared at her.
She
checked her watch. “It’s eight. I’m an hour early.”
“When
I have a crisis, I need you here, pronto. I’ve been here since seven, waiting
for you!” His voice rose in intensity with every word.
“Don’t
yell at me! I’m not the one who pissed off my fiancée enough to throw water on
me. You did that! What the hell did you say to her?” She dumped her purse in a
drawer.
“Nothing.
I just asked her the same question I asked you. She was bitchy, and so I
thought, maybe…”
“Oh
no! You didn’t? You asked her if she had her period?”
He
shrugged. “Makes sense to me.”
“It’s
insulting to think a woman is disagreeing with you because of some hormone
instead of the fact that she just plain doesn’t agree with you. Are you that
stupid?” She shifted, resting her hand on her hip.
“Don’t
call me names! That’s what she did.” He pointed his finger at her.
“She
called you stupid?” Erica raised her eyebrows.
Gunther Quill is anything but stupid.
“And
worse.
She said a lot of nasty things. Got me thinking if
I wanted to be married to…to…that!”
“And
what did you decide?” A little flutter made her pulse kick up.
“Hell
no! I’m not stupid, no way am I marrying her. What a bitch!”
Erica
put her hand on her chest to still her wildly beating heart.
Stop grinning like an idiot. Doesn’t mean he
wants you. You’re nobody. Don’t forget that.
He
raised his gaze to hers. “You’re pretty quiet all of a sudden. Bet you think
that was a dumb thing to do. Break an engagement over one fight.”
“I
think it was the right thing to do.”
Control
yourself. Try to look sympathetic.
“You
do?”
“She’s…she’s
obvious. You need someone who isn’t so out there…know what I mean?”
“You
mean someone with class?”
“Yeah.”
She gave a nod.
They
stood staring at each other for a moment. Gunther broke first.
“I
don’t need anyone. I travel alone. I have a shitload of work to do, and who the
hell needs some dumbass broad dragging me down?”
For
a second, Erica couldn’t breathe. She hadn’t thought he’d prefer no one to
Elsa. “I thought you wanted to get married?” she blurted out.
“Me?”
He pointed at his own chest and burst out laughing. “Farthest thing from my
mind. Else was all about business.”
A
heaviness crept into her heart. Her smile dissolved.
What did you think? He’d drop down on one knee, now that Elsa was out
of the picture?
“You
don’t ever want to get married?” She cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Maybe
when I’m fifty. I want kids. But for now, I roll single. Always have, always
will.” She sighed. “Now that I have you, I may never get married. You take care
of everything a wife would…well, almost everything,” he snickered.
Damn you!
Tears
pricked at the backs of her eyes again. “I don’t care if you ever want to get
married. No skin off my nose. We’re wasting time. What did you want me to do?” she
snapped at him, moving to her desk.
He
hesitated for a second before speaking. “Damage control. Set up an interview
with
Celebs ’R Us
. Tiffany Cowles,
herself. Get her to come here. Find out her favorite food or liquor and get it.
I need to charm this woman and get my side of the story in the press.”
Erica’s
eyes filled as she struggled to listen to his instructions. She fumbled with
her notebook and dropped her pen on the floor. Gunther bent over to pick it up.
When
he handed her the pen, their fingers brushed. His gaze searched her face. She
looked away, shielding her eyes with her hands. “Damn sun. Hitting me right in
the eyes.” She turned her attention back to her notebook. “What else?”
“Write
a press release. Send it to all the entertainment editors. I think Amy had a
list somewhere on the computer.”
“What
do you want it to say?”
“I
don’t know. Come up with something. Bring it in, and we’ll work from there.
Make it clear that the breakup is my idea. But don’t make me look bad. Save her
skin, if you have to. Say it was mutual, due to differing work schedules…or
some shit like that.”
“Got
it.” She nodded. Gunther strode into his office and closed the door. The phone
rang.
Already the vultures are circling?
She
picked it up. “Gunther Quill Productions,” she said.
“Erica?
Erica Wheeler? Is that you?”
“Who’s
this?”
“Mac.
Mac Caldwell. From Kensington State? I can’t believe I recognized your voice.
It’s been what, eight years?”