Chapter 9

Chapter 9- Getting Warmer

The next evening when I was drinking my coffee there came a knock on my front door.  I set the cup down curiously, then went and pulled the door open.  Standing there, looking all shades of uncomfortable, was Bobby, Eric’s gopher.

“Good morning,” he began with a hesitant smile.

“Good morning,” I smiled back.  I smiled even brighter when he lifted up a set of keys in his hand.

“This is from Eric.  He told me to tell you well done on the bet.”

“I just bet he did,” I snarked softly on lifting the keys from Bobby’s pale hand.

“Pardon?”

“Oh, nothing.  Where’s the car parked?”

“In the garage at Coffin Bait Productions.  He thought you might want to see to your old vehicle first.”

“Wise of him,” I murmured.  And kind.  I had to wonder what he had picked out for me, but I was definitely looking forward to the surprise.

“Well thanks Bobby.  Can I interest you in a cup of coffee?”

Bobby looked startled, as if hospitality were the last thing he were expecting.

“No that’s alright.  I still have a few errands to run for Eric.”

“I know what you mean.  I’ve got about a thousand things to do tonight on set before I even go see Godric.”

“It’s a good thing the pays so good,” Bobby quipped, and we both laughed.

“See you on set then.”

I shut the door at that, hoping our newfound camaraderie would continue.

I turned back to the script I was reading, the newest work of William Compton that, in my personal opinion, was full of characterization gaps.  As in mile wide characterization gaps.  I sighed and swallowed down the last of my coffee.  Godric had wanted my opinion on the script, and my opinion was it was contrived and rushed.  But how exactly was I supposed to go up against a vamp with an Oscar under his belt and another predicted on the way?

Carefully, I thought.  Very carefully.  I’d yet to meet Compton, and while I was looking forward to it, I was feeling rather possessive towards the script considering its setting.  Rural Louisiana was my home turf, and if a vamp wanted to write a rural girl, I figured he couldn’t get much closer to the mark than me.  Even if I was a little…  odd.

I decided to walk to work that evening, after quickly cleaning what little junk I had out of my old car.  I called a 24-hour tow service, and they offered to take it off my hands and deliver it to the junkers for a nominal fee.  I smiled at the man, who was thinking was a pretty little southern gal I was and how this town just weren’t normal enough any more.  I wondered what he’d do if he knew of my little ability, but decided not to push my luck.

The four block walk in the summer air did great things for my lungs, though the sidewalk crowds were a bit trying on my mental shields.  I was glad when I stepped up to Coffin Bait Productions back entrance and used my key card to access the employee lot.  I followed my instincts as I wondered down, and sure enough, there was a creamy lemon Toyota hybrid that beeped when I set off the alarm.  I slid into the front driver’s seat with a flushed face, wondering that Eric would pick something so right for me, with so little time knowing me.  I fiddled with the knobs and shiny gadgets (the car came fully loaded) and tried to figure out how my luck had changed so much in such a short time.

He was waiting when I got inside, all six-foot beautiful five of him, clad in jeans and a black tank top that did wonders showing off his triceps.  It was all I could do to keep the drool off my face as he turned and smiled at me.  I slapped on a return smile bright enough to blind over my surge of lust.

“Good evening, Eric.”

“Good evening, Miss Stackhouse.  I trust you are ready for our meeting with Mr. Compton?”

“Yes, and as I told you before, Road to Ruin has got some gaping holes in it.”

“Well, that’s for you and he to discuss.”

A tall woman in flaming red stepped into the studio, ducking a swing-out teleprompter and flaying the man who operated it.  I had to wince at her tone.  Poor Nathan.

“Poor Nathan,” I said aloud.

“Poor us,” Eric murmured under his breath.

“Isn’t that Lorena Krasiki?” I said, feeling a bit of awe despite her bad attitude.

“It is.”

“She was fabulous in The River Runs Red,” I said thoughtfully.

“She is an accomplished actress,” Eric said by way of disagreement.

“She has three Oscars,” I said a bit uncertainly.

“And she has earned every single one of them.”

“Hmm,” was all I could say to that.  It seemed my Mr. Northman wasn’t on happy terms with all the talent.  Maybe he was still sore over the lighting board.  Nah, I thought as I watched her continue to chew out Nathan.  This woman was just a genuine bitch.

About five minutes into her little abusive lecture, another man came into the studio.  He had dark hair and old fashioned sideburns, and the kind of face you might see on marble busts in ruins.  His eyes were dark, and what I could make of his voice was deeply cool, like water pouring over stones at midnight.

“Who’s that?” I asked Eric curiously, to which he not so discretely scowled.

“That would be our Mr. Compton, and Ms. Krasiki’s obsessive love interest.”

“Ah,” thought I.  Best to tread carefully here, for myriad reasons.

“Eric,” I said as he went to turn from me.  I could feel his distress coming through the bond, even though there was no sight of it on his face.

“There’s no need for it,” I told him gently.  “I’m skittish all around, but if I weren’t, it would definitely be for you.”

He gave me a smile at that so dazzling I nearly choked on my lust.

“And ah, thanks for the car.  It’s perfect.”

He inclined his head regally.

“I’m glad you think so.”

And what the hell, since we were being so charitable, I pushed up on my toes and pressed a gentle kiss to the glowing skin of his cheek.  It pulsed with happy light for my gesture, and I was all the more glad I had made it.

“I will see you later, Miss Stackhouse,” he promised.

“You’re not staying?”  I sounded all shades of desperate.

“I’m a busy man, and I stand convinced that you’ll handle the two of them just fine on your own.”

“Sure I will,” I muttered at his deliciously retreating backside.  With a sigh, I turned back to my waiting starlets.