Unforgettable 2 (Hollywood Love Story #2) (18 page)

Zoey

P
inch me. I’ve been living a dream from the minute the Conquest stretch limo picked Brandon and me up at his house and transported us to LAX to meet our private jet. Wait! I take that back. Don’t pinch me. I don’t want this dream to end.

I’ve only been on a plane a few times before. A crammed Southwest flight to Vegas and another to San Fran. The economy cabin stunk of sweat and beer, and I was sandwiched between my tray table and chair like a slab of raw meat. Efficient. Yes. Luxurious. No.

The Conquest corporate jet is the most luxurious vessel I’ve ever traveled on. Yes, I’ve seen private planes in countless TV shows and movies, but nothing has prepared me for the experience of flying on one. The interior is all soft beiges and rich woods, with spread out plush leather chairs that can fold back into sumptuous beds. There’s even a dining cabin and a complete bar with the finest crystal and silverware. Champagne flows and we’re served gourmet meals on monogrammed Conquest china.

I recognize everyone on board from having met them on the set of
Kurt Kussler.
Brandon, nonetheless, re-introduces me. Go-to-Zo, his personal assistant. While the reality of my subservient position drives a screw into my gut—that’s all I am—everyone treats me with respect. They couldn’t be nicer.

Soon after takeoff, Brandon leaves his seat and mingles with the guys. I, in turn, enjoy chatting with Blake Burns’s wife Jennifer, who I met at Jeffrey and Chaz’s engagement party, as well as with Brandon’s co-stars, Jewel Starr and Kellie Fox. Kellie tells me the season finale is to die for. I can’t wait to screen it with Brandon. While Jewel and Kellie move on to chat with Jewel’s husband Niall about tomorrow night’s festivities, I spend more time with Jen.

The more I talk with her, the more I like her. She’s super sweet and asks me a lot of questions about myself including where I grew up and how I came to work for Brandon. I’m somewhat in awe of her. Besides being so pretty and married to one of Hollywood’s top television executives, she’s super successful in her own right. About the same age as I am, she started a women’s erotica channel—MY SIN-TV—and has single-handedly made it a huge success. I try to hide my inferiority complex. Here I am, almost twenty-five, and I’m just a lowly assistant. And she’s running a network.

“Do you have career aspirations?” she asks over champagne.

Taking a sip, I tell her I thought about getting into acting but had to abandon that dream because it was too risky and financially challenging for someone like me.

“You’re adorable!” she counters. “You should reconsider. I’m going to keep my eyes and ears open for any parts that might work for you.”

Wow! I thank her from the bottom of my heart, and the conversation switches to Jeffrey and Chaz.

“I’m so excited about their wedding,” she gushes.

“Me too.”

She goes on to tell me that she and Blake have offered to let them exchange their vows in the expansive yard of their new Santa Monica house.

“I’m sure it’s going to be an extravaganza. A total showcase for my brother’s event planning talents.”

“All the better.” She smiles. “He made my wedding unforgettable.”

She goes on to explain how Jeffrey worked with her creative husband Blake to transform her parents’ backyard into a winter wonderland in the middle of July. As she spews the details, a tinge of melancholy nips me. Growing up, Jeffrey was forever planning my dream wedding, acting it out with Barbie and Ken, but as I grew older, I knew that was a long shot. In fact, now I seriously believe it’ll never happen. The man of my dreams is engaged to another. And truthfully is way out of my league. I shoot him a glance; he’s in a serious conversation with Blake. I wonder what they’re talking about.

As much as I’d like to ask Jen to tell me more about Katrina, I don’t broach the subject. From Chaz, I know she despises Brandon’s fiancée as much as I do. The bitch almost came between her and Blake. In fact, she almost cost Blake his life. I still haven’t shared this info with my boss. Jen doesn’t bring up Katrina either. A nice girl from Boise, she was probably raised with the value: “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all.” Growing up with brutally honest Pops and Jeffrey, I was taught to tell it like it is. I internally sigh. I so wish I had the nerve to tell Brandon what I know about the crazy bitch. Just maybe I will.

Brandon

“T
he season finale looks fucking amazing,” says Blake after taking a sip of the expensive Scotch we’re both drinking. “That ending is killer—no pun intended.”

“Thanks,” I say proudly. “And thanks for believing in me and letting me write it.”

“We have high hopes for it. Libby Clearfield, our research head, has been tracking intent to view and the score keeps going up every day. Ninety-eight percent of your viewers say they won’t miss it. There’s even considerable interest among non-viewers. The buzz is sensational. We anticipate the ratings to go through the roof.”

“Wow,” I say, both humbled and blown away.

“We’ll get our first feedback when we screen it tomorrow night.”

I take a sip of my drink. “I’m a little nervous.”

Dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt like me, Blake laughs and gives me a warm pat on the back. “Don’t be, man. It’s going to rock and the Q&A afterward will be a piece of cake. I’m moderating it so there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Great.” I imbibe more of my Scotch and swallow just in time before Blake pops a disquieting question.

“Where’s Kat?”

Katrina. The mere mention of her name in any form makes my stomach churn. She’s been out of sight, out of mind. The memory of her showing up at my lunch with Blake back in January and shredding his wife Jen storms into my head. The alcohol burns through my blood as my cheeks heat up.

“She’s couldn’t come.” My voice wavers. “She had previous commitments.”

Blake takes another swig of his drink and nods. “That’s good, man.”

What does he mean? At our lunch, I remember his icy hostility toward Katrina. It bordered on rage as Katrina’s out of control behavior became audacious. Mortifying. It was obvious to me they had some kind of history, but Blake was tight-lipped about it. And I chose not to pursue it further. When I confronted Katrina about her outrageous behavior and their past, she told me Blake, the former love of her life, had broken her heart. I left it at that, never questioning it further. Loosened up by the Scotch, I build up the courage to prod. His tumbler half emptied, maybe he’ll open up and tell me more.

“Blake, what happened between you and Kat?” I deliberately use the name he calls her.

He drains the rest of his Scotch and sets the glass on the table between us. His blustery blue eyes meet mine. “Listen, Brandon, I can’t go into details, but that girl is bad news.”

Rather than unnerving me, his pronouncement affirms what I already know and gives me the impetus to probe further.

“What do you mean?”

“She’s capable of a lot of shit. I’ll leave it at that. Hey, man, I shouldn’t be telling you this stuff. You’re marrying her. Maybe she’s different with you and has found what she needs.”

I blurt out the next words. “Blake, I’m going to be honest with you. I’m having second thoughts about marrying her.” I don’t tell him that I attempted to break up with her before this trip, but she left town and I couldn’t reach her on her cell. Probably because there’s no reception at her father’s high security penitentiary.

Blake twists his lips, forming a less than happy expression. Judging by the look on his face, maybe it was meant to be that I couldn’t get in touch with Katrina. After being around her, I can only imagine what kind of damage she would do me in the press while I’m half way around the world at MIP. I inwardly shudder. Drawing in a sharp breath, production chief Blake finally breaks his silence and confirms my unsettling gut feelings.

“I wish you’d said something to me or our Press Department earlier. Our research shows that viewers are as excited about your televised wedding as much as they are for the
Kurt Kussler
season finale. You—or should I say we—have a lot riding on both events. And Katrina’s a loose cannon, the proverbial wrecking ball, and ready to blow everything up. Man, I honestly don’t know what to say. The timing sucks for a breakup.”

Christ. What have I gotten myself into? I’m damned if I do; damned if I don’t. A sudden bout of turbulence shakes the plane and cuts our conversation short. The clamor of clattering glasses sounds in my ears as the “Fasten Seatbelts” sign flashes overhead. I shift my gaze to my adorable assistant who’s talking to Blake’s wife Jennifer to make sure she’s alright. She’s looks a little terrified. I fight the urge to jump up from my seat and take her in my arms. Blake catches my eyes on her.

“Your assistant’s great,” he comments. “She’s really cute too.”

“Yeah, she is,” I mumble under my breath, wondering if Blake suspects something.

The turbulence fortunately doesn’t last long. But the shaky feeling inside me doesn’t go away as the air calms down. Blake undoes his seatbelt and asks an attendant to refill our glasses. After the attractive woman accommodates us, he takes another gulp of his Scotch and then sets the tumbler down on his muscular thighs. With his tall athletic build and movie-star looks, we could practically be brothers.

“Brandon, I’ve been thinking about what you told me. Do what you need to do. My wise old man always says no risk, no gain.”

Tugging at my lower lip, I digest his father’s words of wisdom. The stakes are high. I have everything to gain…and everything to lose. Why do I feel like a smooth ride is not in my cards?

Zoey

F
rom the corner of my eye, I catch Brandon returning to his seat. His eyes lock on me, and he gestures for me to return to mine. Boss’s orders. Chat time is over. I excuse myself, but not before Jen gives me a hug. I really like her and have a good feeling we may become close friends as Jeffrey and Chaz’s wedding plans unfold.

“What were you and Jennifer Burns talking about?” asks Brandon as I plop back down on the roomy leather chair.

Mr. Nosy.
“Stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Girl stuff. And what about you and Blake? You two looked intense.”

“Business. We talked mostly about MIP. I have a full day on the floor tomorrow. And there’s going to be a Q&A session after the screening tomorrow night. I’m going to need you to help me prepare for it.”

“Sure, no prob.” I have to remind myself this is a business trip. My James Bond-inspired dreams of tooling around the French Riviera and Monaco fly out the window. I’m back to being his go-to assistant.

Over a scrumptious dinner of beef bourguignon and free-flowing wine and champagne, Brandon and I review his hectic schedule. Every minute of the next few days is jam-packed with events and meetings. I get exhausted just thinking about it. Somewhere between my third glass of champagne and dessert, my eyes grow heavy. I doze off.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please return your seats to an upright position and fasten your seatbelts in preparation for landing. We will be arriving at Nice International Airport in approximately fifteen minutes.”

At the sound of the announcement, I snap open my eyes. Mortification sweeps through me. I fell asleep with my head resting on Brandon’s strong shoulder, my cheek brushing his mountainous bicep. Straightening, I glance down at my watch. We’ve been in the air for over twelve hours. The time in Nice is seven p.m.

“Hi,” I squeak, totally embarrassed. I must look all sleepy-faced.

“Hi,” he says back with a dazzling smile. He tucks a few strands of hair that have fallen into my eye behind my ear, bringing awareness back into my body, and then buckles my seatbelt for me, an endearing gesture that sends tingles to my core. “Are you excited?”

“Yes, very,” I say breathily as I look down at the mesmerizing view of the Mediterranean below us.

“Me too.”

In more ways than one. Another view takes my breath away—the prominent bulge that dominates the area between his legs. His enormous cock is straining against his jeans. Maybe he fell asleep too and had a wet dream? I can’t get my eyes off his fly knowing what lies beneath. I feel myself flushing as a fresh rush of flutters pulses through me.