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“I tried.” When we got out of his car, he put his hand out for mine to hold and I loved it. “They’ll only replace Emma’s character with another groupie girlfriend. We’re all dispensable at some point.”
I don’t see how. Not him. Not with how Redix seduces any lens. He is the perfect rockstar. Or Romeo. Or surfer. Or CEO. The man can make the role of filing taxes wet your panties.
“I’m glad you’re finally here,” Eric, his assistant, side-whispers while we watch from our chairs as the crew hustles around set. “I worried New York was a fluke. It’s nice seeing your face with him in LA, too, since I’ve seen your name on so many papers.”
“Papers?” I like Eric. He took care of us at the photoshoot.
“He didn’t tell you yet?”
“Tell me what?”
When it comes to Redix, surprises aren’t always good.
“He’s supposed to, so that you know.”
“Know what?”
My nerves twitch. The three cups of coffee I’ve sucked down don’t help.
“His house. He’s supposed to tell you that he left it to you. He also put you in charge of his estate should something happen to him.”
The confusion. The worry. It’s written across my face, and Eric reads it fast.
“We made him do it,” he explains. “Me. His manager. His agent. After his last stint in rehab, we made him get his affairs in order. It was decided his mom and sister would be too upset, so he said if anyone could, you’d take care of his things.”
What shocks me more? Redix’s trust in me. His dance with death. Or his plans in case he does it again.
“How bad was he?”
If Redix trusts Eric, so do I. And for all the good Redix shares with me now, I know he’s hiding bad too.
“If he starts drinking or using again? If you really love him? Don’t enable him. Leave… and don’t look back.”
I’ve seen too much as a cop. Too many lives and people wasted. The scary picture is clear.
“That’s why it’s good you’re here.” Eric sips his tea. “And Angie’s not.”
“I thought Angie’s history, an act.”
A knot, it twists in my stomach.
“She is. Was. She was business to him, but he was more to her. And she never respected his sobriety. Like tempting him was a game.”
“It’s one she’ll fucking lose if she tries that shit around me.”
“I see what Redix means.” Eric chuckles. “How you fight for him. It’s good. He needs someone who cares about him and not his fame. I’ve never seen him this healthy and happy. I can finally relax.”
I turn back, watching Redix in his cast chair. He’s grinning my way. He does look happy… and the picture of sexy health.
Munching on donuts from craft services, I watch for three hours how he shoots a sex scene with Emma. How he gets into character, lying in bed with her on set, shooting a hot scene that’s so believable, I feel weird—jealous, horny, and proud—an odd mix.
The Intimacy Coordinator negotiates how Redix will kiss from Emma’s neck, licking down between her naked cleavage to her belly. He has underwear on, while Emma only wears a flesh thong.
They reset for another angle meant to look like Redix is going down on her. I twist in my chair and tingle between my thighs, knowing the act for real. My pulse doubles while they reset again for a closeup of his face disappearing between her thighs.
Just before they call “Action,” he glances at me, and when they start rolling, his moan—it’s for me.
A wet desire slides down my body. Why did I wear a miniskirt today with no panties? Oh, because we’ve been fucking every chance we can, but now that’s a mistake because I’m so turned on.
