Fade into Always (2 page)

I looked up at him.

He kissed me again. “Just like you.”

Later, as we were getting ready to leave to go out on Max’s boat, Krystal came barreling through the front door, looking a little crazed and acting extremely hyper.

She hugged Max, which was odd. Then she started talking rapidly about his movies and how much she loved all of them.

Max was gracious. He either wasn’t freaked out by her tornado-like behavior, or he was hiding it really well.

I asked Krystal if she had a cooler.

“Yeah, but it’s on the back porch and it’s filthy. I’ll wash it for you guys!” She was bizarrely excited about the offer.

“We’ll just get one at the store,” Max said. “Don’t go to that trouble.”

Krystal looked at me and placed her hand on Max’s shoulder. “This guy is amazing, girl!”

I was getting embarrassed for her. She was on something, no doubt. A total trainwreck. Sad.

She asked what we had planned that day, and then said she’d been up all night so she was going to try to get some sleep. I held back from saying that sounded like a great idea, and that maybe she needed to sleep for about a month or so.

When she was gone Max said, “Coke.”

“I was thinking something like that.”

We were headed out the door when he said, “So, when do I get to see her DVD?”

I knew he was joking so I hit him back with, “Maybe you and I should just make our own.”

“Don’t tempt me, Olivia.”

“Aren’t there sharks out here?” I asked Max, as we sat on the stern of his boat, getting ready to swim in the Pacific Ocean. We were a mile or so offshore. The water was calm, but all I could think of was how deep it was and all the creatures below the surface.

“Yep,” he said.

“So…why are we doing this again?”

He reached around to my back and untied my bikini top. “It’s just one of my ways of getting you naked.”

“There are plenty of ways for you to do that without making me shark food.”

We were about to skinny-dip. My first time ever.

Max chuckled. “It’s going to be fine. Really. California sharks mostly go for blonde girls, anyway.”

I watched him toss my bikini top on one of the cushioned seats. “I didn’t know you were an expert in marine biology.”

“You’re feisty today,” he said, slipping his fingers under my bikini bottoms. “I like it.” He knelt before me and lowered the bottoms. “I like this too.” He kissed me once between the legs.

“Excuse me, but why am I the only one who’s naked?”

Max remedied the situation by dropping his swim trunks.

I laughed.

Max looked down at himself, then back up at me. “What?”

“Nothing.”

He grabbed me. “No, you laughed. What’s so funny?”

We were both laughing now. “Your tan lines.” I laughed, unable to get more words out.

He picked me up as if he were going to toss me into the ocean. I screamed and held on to him tightly.

“Relax,” he said. “I wouldn’t do that.”

We got into the water and my heart raced. I’d never been in water this deep before, and while I was undeniably nervous about it, having Max there made me feel safe.

“Don’t splash,” he said. “That’s what brings the Great Whites.”

Okay, maybe not so safe.

I swam toward him and he took me in his arms. I wrapped mine around his neck. He treaded water for the both of us, holding me up, and I marveled at his strength.

The water lapped at our shoulders and necks. Max gave me a salty kiss, but I didn’t care if I swallowed a gallon of the Pacific’s water.

Later, out in the bright sunshine of the open sea, Max and I oiled each other up with suntan lotion. All that touching didn’t lend itself to a relaxing time lying on towels and soaking up rays.

We ended up fucking on the bow of the boat, our bodies slipping and sliding against each other as Max filled me and thrilled me as though it was our first time.

I talked to Mom and Dad early Sunday evening after getting back home, and they told me they were considering coming out for a visit in two weeks. I wasn’t expecting it to be that soon, and I started to mentally prepare for how I would handle the issues of Krystal and Max.

If they saw Krystal in the current shape she was in, it would just give them more ammunition in their war against me being in LA. If they found out about Max, they were likely to kidnap me and haul me off to some institution to have my mind reprogrammed.

Okay, maybe I was being a bit drastic in my worrying. But I really did need to find a way to minimize their interaction with Krystal. As for Max, I would simply tell him I wasn’t ready for him to meet my parents, what with our relationship being so new and all, and it would be easy to keep that part of my new life hidden. For now, anyway.

FOUR

Boring week. That is, until Thursday, when I got yet another call from our soon-to-be movie star client, Jacqueline Mathers. Based on all of my previous interactions with her, I thought for sure she was calling to demand another perk. But she wasn’t.

“I saw Max Dalton’s picture with that woman.”

Ah, shit. Not this. She had no idea I was involved with Max, so I had to hide my frustration as she asked me if I believed the denial from Liza Carrow.

“I do,” I said.

“I don’t. I keep hearing from other actresses that he has a casting couch that’s pretty worn out.”

She wasn’t the first person in town to say that about him. Krystal’s friends had been the first at that party a few weeks back. That was when I had my doubts about Max. But no more. I knew who he was, even if no one else did.

“I really don’t know,” I said. “It’s never come up in business meetings with him.” There. I tried some mild snark. Maybe she’d drop it.

“As long as I don’t have to do that. I mean, I already have the part, so he’s not expecting anything, right?”

It was a good thing we were on the phone and I could freely roll my eyes. “Jacqueline, don’t worry. It’s not going to happen.”

It was an odd conversation, to say the least. Not only because of the content itself, but also because I found myself on the verge of defending him like a girlfriend would. I mean, without the cursing and hanging-up on her part.

I kept my cool, changed the subject, and soon we were discussing scheduling and other details of the upcoming shoot.

After our call, I went in to tell Kevin about it. He laughed and said, “She’s going to be a handful to deal with.”

“Already is.”

He was reading something on his iPad and I had a brief flashback of him showing me the screen with that picture of Max and Liza in the tabloid rag.

Kevin said, “Let’s close up early and go have a cocktail.”

It was just after 4pm. Kevin’s suggestion was odd. He’d never asked me to go have a drink with him before, but when the boss wants to shut down and unwind, what can you do?

I figured it might be a good opportunity to pick his brain. I’d been learning a lot in the relatively short time I’d been working for him, but I knew there was so much more to absorb.

We went to an Irish pub around the corner. There was nothing authentically Irish about it beyond the name and the décor. I was beginning to notice that everything in LA was fake: the tans, the hair, the boobs, and even the restaurants. All made for show. No substance. But this was the life I’d chosen and I would learn to fit in.

Kevin ordered a martini, and I had a glass of wine. In the time it took me to nurse my drink to the last drop, Kevin had finished the martini, moved on to a straight Beefeater on the rocks, and was almost done with a second one.

He was getting looser in his story-telling, and I sat in rapt attention listening to the gossip he had inside his head but had never even hinted at. Maybe he was beginning to really trust me as an employee, and maybe this meant I was being formally welcomed as a long-term member of his team.

Oh, what he had in store for the agency! Kevin was extremely ambitious, and when he spoke of where he wanted to see the agency in ten or fifteen years, I believed with every confident word he spoke that he would indeed succeed and see his dreams come to fruition.

I declined a second glass of wine when he asked if I’d like another.

“Come on,” he said, “you’re with the boss. I won’t care if you’re a little late tomorrow.”

“I really shouldn’t.”

He lifted his tumbler and threw back the rest of his gin. “You wouldn’t turn down a second glass from Max, would you?”

I just looked at him.
Awkard.

He put his hand on my bare knee, and I suddenly wished like hell that I’d worn pants that day. “Let’s get out of here.” He squeezed a little and started to slide his hand up my thigh.

“Thanks for the drink,” I said, moving off my chair at the bar table. “Are you okay to drive home?”

Kevin stood and moved toward me. “Olivia, I’ve kept this out of the office but here…I can’t help myself.”

Ugh. Just what I wanted to hear from my boss. To think just minutes ago I was letting my imagination run wild with a bright future in the business and Kevin as my mentor. So much for that.

“I think you need to call a cab when you leave. Bye, Kevin.”

I got out of there quickly and as I got to my car he was jogging toward me. Shit.

“Wait,” he said. “I just thought…you know…”

“What?” And then it hit me. “Oh my God. You think because I’m sleeping with Max, I’ll sleep with anyone? Just to get noticed and work my way up? Well, you’re wrong. And no way will I do it to keep a job. I quit.”

“He’ll hurt you.”

I glared at him. “Maybe so, but at least he has some class.”

Kevin stood there shocked. He didn’t try to stop me, either with his voice or with physical force. Thank God. I didn’t know if I could handle another man being physical with me. I had pepper-spray in my purse, always easily accessible, and Kevin would have ended up lying on the parking lot, writhing around in the gravel, clutching his eyes.

The only eyes with tears in them were mine, though, as I tore out of there and headed for home.

My phone rang three times on the way home. All calls from Kevin. He left a voicemail each time, then sent a text:
I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. Plz listen to my msgs.

I didn’t listen to them. I called my voicemail and deleted each one before I heard the first syllable out of his mouth. There was nothing he could say to reverse what had happened, and there was no way I was going to work for him anymore. I just couldn’t. There’d be no way to get past the weirdness. I had made my decision by the time I pulled up to my apartment complex. I’d told him I was going to quit, and I was going to stand by it.

Even though Kevin’s touching had been limited to my knee and my thigh, and it was only for a few seconds, I still felt the need to take a shower. I cried as I scrubbed that leg harder than I’d ever washed it before.

Krystal wasn’t home, so I had the place to myself, but I still locked myself in my bedroom. I lay in bed staring up at the ceiling wondering what I would do after quitting the job. Was it pathetic to think that Kevin would give me a recommendation? I was pretty sure I could get one from him. Hell, I was pretty sure I could get anything out of him with the threat of telling Max what had happened. Max could very well cut all business ties with Kevin and his agency, but that would mean hurting Jacqueline as well. She was innocent in all of this and considering she was under contract with Kevin, it wasn’t as though she could go off on her own and keep the role in Max’s film.

Damnit. My mind was swirling with confusion and too many side issues that I didn’t need to worry about at the time. What I needed to be thinking about was how to handle being unemployed, surviving in LA, telling my parents all of this or lying to them when they came to visit, and how to explain to Max why I was no longer working for Kevin.

Of course, I could fake forgiveness and go back to work there and make everything seem fine. Except I’d only be making it seem fine to everyone else. It wouldn’t be fine with me at all. And I was finished with the part of my life where my happiness, comfort and well-being took a backseat to anyone.

FIVE

I didn’t even bother contacting Kevin on Friday morning. No phone call, no text, no email, nothing. I just didn’t show up. I didn’t hear from him, either, which pretty much told me he knew I’d never be back.

I spent the day trying to figure out what I would do next in terms of work. No good ideas immediately came to mind, and I decided to put off the worrying for the weekend. Bright and early Monday morning, my new job would be finding a new job.

Max texted me around noon:
House or boat this weekend?

Just reading it gave me a smile, even though I hadn’t yet told him about not working for Kevin anymore, and for all Max knew I was at the office.

Me:
What? We can’t do both?;)

Max:
We can do whatever you want.

Me:
Okay, how about you dress up as a pirate and rescue me from danger and have your way with me on your boat?

Max:
As long as I don’t have to talk in a pirate voice.

Me:
Oh, then forget it. :(

We decided we would play it by ear—no firm plans, just do whatever we wanted hour by hour. It sounded like heaven to me.

But I knew I’d have to mention the whole Kevin thing to him. I just couldn’t decide whether to do it at the start of our weekend. I wanted to hold back until Sunday so our weekend wouldn’t be tainted by the unpleasantness of the story, but I also thought Max might want to know right away. I decided I would play that by ear also—if the time seemed right, I’d bring it up.

Krystal came home around 11 a.m. I was sitting in the den, reading some of the Hollywood tabloids on my iPad and having a cup of coffee.

“Are you sick?” she asked as she came through the door.

“No. Worse.”

“What’s wrong?”

She sat down beside me and I told her the whole sordid story. Tears began to flow again. Krystal hugged me and I sobbed into her shoulder.