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Lucía asked me to wait until the screenplay was done. I’ve waited. I’m sick of not being able to tell the world she’s mine. I’ve had to watch the staff flirt with her, some of the guys have asked her out. I hate all that shit. I’m not a kid. I stopped sneaking around when I was a teenager. I hate doing it now. So, this trip is going to be our coming out—whether she likes it or not. Whether she thinks she’s ready or not.
“We’ll share one,” I tell Mr. Not Slick Rick. He actually claps before he catches himself. “That won’t be a problem, we have both of your rider items completed, so we’ll just take you to Ms. Vega’s room and move your items over there.” He pulls out his phone and starts to make a call.
“What’s a rider?” Lucía whispers as we follow him down the long hallway leading to the greenrooms.
“It’s everything you request when you’re doing an appearance. Sol filed one for you, but I didn’t see it. I thought he would have run it by you?”
“Request? What would I request?” she whispers back, sounding perplexed.
“It’s not a big deal. They like to make sure their guests are comfortable, so they ask if they can get you anything special. A particular snack you like . . . you know, things like that. I’m sure Sol just told them to have something for you to eat and didn’t get too specific,” I explain.
We turn right from the garages tunnel into the brightly lit, chrome, marble and glass lobby of Thirty Rockefeller Plaza. Lucía grinds to a halt and just stares. Her eyes wide as she takes in her surroundings. “I’ve only ever seen this on TV. I can’t believe I’m here.” Her grip on my hand tightens as she surveys the lobby.
“After you’re done, we’ll make it possible for you to come back and take a private tour of the plaza. It’s quite a marvel. And the view from The Top of the Rock is a must see,” says Rick.
“Oh, thank you, I’d love that,” Lucía, exclaims. I smile, but inwardly curse him. After we’re done, I’d been planning on taking her back to our hotel and fucking her hot, tight pussy for dinner.
I just smile at him and say, “Yes, thank you, Rick.” My tone is warm, but my eyes when I look at him are anything but.
He smiles nervously and says, “Well, let’s get going. We’ve got to get you in makeup and we’ll send our producers in to give you a quick prep, and then you’ll be good to go.”
We step onto the elevator and climb to the fifty-first floor. When we step off the elevator, the scene that greets us is what I’d call ordered chaos. A lot of people moving rapidly, but with purpose.
“This way, please,” says our erstwhile guide. “We’ve moved your rider items into one greenroom. We’re going to start makeup right away.” He smiles coyly at Lucía. “Not that you two need it.”
She giggles. I groan. She elbows me in reprimand just as we’re shown into our greenroom.
There’s a rack of dresses and suit jackets on the left. There is a sitting area that frames a huge television screen on the right. A woman is standing in front of a huge vanity with lights and a counter. She’s dressed in all black with light blond hair, cut very close to her head. She smiles and walks toward us. “I’m Mila,” she says, revealing an Australian accent. “I’ll be doing makeup for you both today.” As effusive as Rick was to Lucía, she’s even more so toward me. She sidles up to me, a cool, but very suggestive smile on her face. “I’ll do you first,” she says, the innuendo unmistakable.
This isn’t new or surprising. I’m relatively young, wealthy, famous. So, wherever I go, women try their luck with me.
In the world I live in, most women don’t care about anything but what I represent. But, I’m used to them, so Mila’s flirtation barely registers.
I feel Lucía tense. Mila doesn’t notice though, and she puts her hand on my arm to lead me to the chair. I remove her hand politely and keep a pleasant look on my face, but my message is clear. “Actually, I need to make a call, so I’ll go last.”
I turn to Lucía, who is eyeing Mila, and grab her shoulder. She looks up at me then and I lean in fast and press my lips to hers. It’s a quick kiss, but for the fraction of a second that our lips touch, I forget where I am and why we’re here. And she does, too. I expect her to tense, but she doesn’t. She deepens the kiss, putting her arms around my waist and stepping into me. She steps back and smiles at me. And then I remember Mila is standing there. She’s blushing furiously and staring at her phone screen.
“I’ll just go sit down and make my call, have fun in makeup,” I say to them both, before I turn and head toward the seating area. I pour myself a cup of coffee and pull out my phone and get on a call I have with the Chairwoman of California’s Democratic Party Committee. As I’m prospecting the idea of running, I think it can’t hurt to try and start building some relationships. I want to be ready in case Lucía decides she’s in.
Thirty minutes later we’re done. My call was a good one, the party’s interested in talking. We have a face-to-face when I get back to LA next week. Out of the corner of my eye I watch Lucía step out of the chair and walk over to another woman. Melanie, as I’d heard her introduce herself earlier, is from wardrobe.
“Okay, Lucía, let’s get you into something that’s going to knock them dead.”
Lucía looks down at her black, sweater dress that she’s paired with a pair of black knee boots and then looks up.
“Oh, I though what I was wearing would be fine.”
Melanie looks her up and down, no recrimination in her eyes, but says frankly, “We can do better. You should wear something jewel toned. It’s fall, and you’ve got great skin and hair. I’ve pulled s
ome things. We got your size from your agent, but we’ve got everything in alternate sizes, too. We’ll get you something that works.” She walks over to the rack of clothes and beckons for Lucía to follow her.
Mila beckons me with the tip of her head and I sigh. She clearly hasn’t learned her lesson. Lucía doesn’t handle this sort of thing with the same flippancy that I do. In the last month, I’ve learned that she’s as possessive as I am.
When I sit down in her chair, she makes a show of walking back and forth in front of me, digging in the drawer of the vanity, ass in my face, trying to find “that damn brush,” she keeps calling it.
She comes to stand in front of me and I notice that two of the buttons on her shirt are undone. I roll my eyes, not bothering to hide my boredom.
I crook my finger at her and look over my shoulder, pretending to check to see if Lucía’s paying attention. She comes, bringing her ear to my mouth. “Hey, I get what you’re trying to do, but I need to warn you. My girlfriend’s over there.” I mimic her head nod in Lucía’s direction. Her eyes widen in understanding and I start to feel relieved until she speaks again.
