Sex Symbol by Laurelin Paige
“I met Micah quite some time ago,” Richard said, pulling Maddie from the thick haze of Micah to the reason for their meeting. “And told him we were looking for something just like your film. I was surprised when he brought us your project.”
“I have to admit,” Maddie said, “I was surprised too.”
Micah pulled out a chair for her and she nodded politely as she moved to sit. He leaned in as he pushed her in to the table. “I would have told you if you’d answered my calls,” he whispered in her ear.
Maddie shuddered at the feel of his breath on her skin. “Voicemail works for more than just pining,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Touché.” He sat next to her, then leaned in again, a broad smile on his face. “You’re going to be awesome,” he whispered. “This is your moment to shine. Enjoy it.” He squeezed her knee under the table, which turned her belly molten and made goosebumps run up her arms. But it also gave her the confidence she needed. He believed in her. He was there because he believed in her.
Richard ran the meeting. He highlighted the elements of her film that he and his partners liked the most, as well as their concerns going forward. He worked through all of her budget items, suggesting adjustments and additions. Then he asked Maddie about her vision and ideas for the movie. Occasionally, Kelsey and Lance interjected, adding their own thoughts. When Beaumont had invested in her film, he just handed her a check and expected her to deliver. Maybe, with their guidance, she could actually pull this off.
Micah sat quietly, only speaking when directly addressed. His presence was never forgotten by Maddie, though. The hair on the right side of her body, the side closest to him, stood on end. She wondered if he might touch her again, perhaps bump her under the table. After his knee squeeze, however, he kept his hands to himself.
When the meeting ended, nearly two hours later, Richard announced that they would commit seventy-five percent of her needed funds and would leave all creative control to her. “Don’t think that means we wouldn’t like to give input. Please come to us often. We want to build this with you, if you’ll let us.”
“Yes!” Maddie almost squealed. “Yes. Thank you and yes.”
Micah cleared his throat. “Maddie, you know I love your film, but I understand if you don’t want me on the team—” He paused, making sure she knew exactly what he was saying, letting her know she didn’t have to include him on the project. Then to the rest of the room he said, “Since I’m only a silly actor, after all.” Richard and Lance chuckled. “I certainly couldn’t add the production expertise that Richard and Lance and Kelsey could. But I’m more than committed to providing the additional twenty-five percent.”
He met Maddie’s eyes. “I’d even be a silent partner, if you prefer.”
No, she didn’t prefer. She loved his thoughts about film and the ideas he’d given her over the last several weeks had been amazing. He’d been invaluable, stimulating her creatively, inspiring her daily. For a moment, she let herself fantasize about working with him again.
But working with him would only make her want him. And she didn’t need to revisit the list of reasons why that would end in heartache. The heartache she was feeling was already worse than she could ever imagine. Spending more time with him could only make it worse.
She put on a smile, mostly for the rest of the room. “I want you on the team,” she said to Micah. “But could I think about the silent partner part?”
“Of course.” But she saw Micah’s eye twitch as he spoke and knew her response hurt him.
Well, too bad. She hurt, too.
“Great!” Richard exclaimed. “I’ll have the papers drawn up and a check ready for you by the end of next week.”
Maddie exchanged an excited glance with Bree. It was happening, really happening! A real company was making her movie!
Her mind was dizzy as Richard wrapped the meeting up. Goodbyes were said and the next thing Maddie knew, she and Bree were stepping into the elevator with Micah.
Then there was a whole other reason to feel dizzy. Because now she was in a tight space with Micah, with Bree as her only safeguard. And Bree had already sold her out with Micah once that week. She braced herself for the awkwardness to set in.
The minute the doors shut, he turned to her. “We need to talk.”
No, not here, not now. She chose to divert him. “Yes, we do. Thank you, Micah. I’m so incredibly grateful that you hooked me up with Thr –“
“That’s not what we have to talk about.”
“Micah…” She didn’t know how to handle him, particularly with Bree there.
“I’m not letting you out of this elevator until you agree to talk.” He moved toward the electrical panel. “I’ll pull the emergency button if I have to.”
She put her hand out to stop him. “No, don’t do that.”
“Then you’ll talk?”
“I—” She wanted to talk, she did. She missed him. She had so much she wanted to say to him. She just didn’t know if she could bear what he’d say in return.
“You promised, Maddie,” Bree hissed at her. “You promised if you had the chance—”
If Maddie didn’t agree, Bree would tell Micah all her thoughts and feelings for her. “Fine. We can talk in the valet lounge. Bree, I’ll meet you at the car.”
“I’ll drive her home,” Micah said.
“No, I’ll meet you at the car,” Maddie growled, making sure Bree understood and didn’t drive off without her.
Bree nodded as the elevator doors opened to the parking garage. “Take your time,” she said over her shoulder as she walked toward her car.
Micah pulled Maddie by the elbow into the small lounge next to the elevator, a waiting area for when valet was available. Her skin burned under his grip, but too soon, he let her go, depositing her on an upholstered bench. He sat on the bench perpendicular to her and met her eyes.
He stared at her without speaking for several long seconds. Finally he spoke. “You’re mad at me.”
Maddie pursed her lips. “I’m not mad at you.”
He cocked his head. “Then why are you avoiding me?”
“I’m...” She considered all the answers she could give including the stock I’m not avoiding you. She settled on the truth. Why not? She’d told Bree she would be honest with him if she had the chance. “Because I’m afraid if I see you again, I’ll never want to not see you again.”
He sighed, as though relieved by her response. “Then don’t not see me again.” He reached over and stroked her cheek. “I miss you.”
She leaned into his caress, her skin vibrating under his touch. “I miss you, too.”
“I tried to tell you, we can still see each other.”
She took his hand from her face and held it in her lap. There. She could concentrate better. “But you’ve already decided we won’t work out, Micah. So I didn’t see the point.”
“Forget what I’ve said.” He put his other hand around hers. “No decisions. No preconceived notions. One day at a time. I want to keep seeing you.”
Her heart sped up at his admission. “Then you believe a celebrity relationship might work out?”
“I still don’t know that yet, Maddie.”
She pulled away before he finished talking, wrapping her arms around herself. “I can’t do this, Micah. I can’t be a test subject for your theory.”
“That’s not at all what you are.” He brushed his hand through his hair. “This is hard for me, Maddie. Why can’t you give me time to figure all of this out?”
“How do you plan to do that? The shoot’s over. We can’t sneak around so easily. People will see us together and you’ll have to admit that we’re something. What will you say to the press?”
He answered her with a guilty stare.
“Oh, I get it.” Realization dawned on her. “You aren’t planning on telling anyone anything.”
“It’s nobody’s business but ours.”
“How do you imagine that will work? Do we ge
“Don’t make it sound so disgusting. It’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like?”
Micah stood and paced the room. “You don’t get it, Maddie. The press makes everything a whole other ballgame.” He stopped and faced her. “The minute they’re involved, they’ll descend on us.”
“You mean, the minute they’re involved, it’s real.”
“No, that’s not what I mean.” He put one hand on his waist, his fingers resting at the band of his slacks. “I’m trying to protect you, Maddie. You can’t imagine the things they’ll say. They’ll dig up your Beaumont past. They’ll dismiss your movie because you’re Micah Preston’s girlfriend.”
“Or you’re afraid that I’ll take advantage of you because I’m your girlfriend.”
“That’s Lulu talking. You aren’t like that and I know it. And I couldn’t care less what the media thinks about my involvement with your movie. What I do care about is what they say about you.”
She stood as if gathering her argument around her before delivering it full force. “But that’s what it means to be part of your life, Micah. And I want to be part of it! All of your life, not just the parts you think I’m ready for. How else will I ever know what it really means to love you?”
There. She’d said it. And not during sex. No going back now.
He took a step toward her. He opened his mouth to say something then closed it. Then opened it again. “Why does it matter what I say to journalists when I’m sharing my bed with you?”
Her eyes felt moist. She’d said I love you and he ignored her. Again. “It makes me your shameful little secret.”
“No.” He placed his arms on her shoulders. “It doesn’t.”
She shrugged out from his grip. “It does. And it’s not just journalists. It’s charity events where I watch with your fans while you hang on the arm of women you’ve slept with. It’s you lying to important people about who I am in your life. Would you even tell your mother?”
His pause told her no.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“You promised me, Maddie, that you wouldn’t care what other people thought or knew. That you’d come to me. That you’d talk to me.”
“I am talking to you. And I don’t care about what they think of me. I care about what you think about me. What it means that you don’t want to tell people about me. If you cared about me at all, you wouldn’t ask me to be a secret. It’s not fair. It’s selfish.”
The lines of his jaw hardened. “And you weren’t being selfish when you decided when and how we were going to end without giving me a chance to respond?”
She hung her head as if she’d been slapped. “You’re right. I ran away—I run away, Micah. That’s my M.O.” She took a deep breath. “But I’m not running now. I’m telling you how I feel and that’s not easy for me. Did you hear me? I love you. I want to be in your life. For real.” A tear escaped down her cheek.
He caught her tear on the tip of his finger. “Maddie...” His voice was low and pained.
But he didn’t say it back. He didn’t love her.
Her heart broke. The dam of tears burst and she swiped as they fell. “I know. You have to choose and all that. You’ve told me. Well, I choose, too. And I’m choosing this. I…can’t see you.”
He closed his eyes, pain etched across his features. When he opened them again, he’d turned hard. He nodded once.
Maddie choked back a sob. He was letting her do this. Letting her walk away. She had hoped he would fight harder for her. But he didn’t.
“Goodbye, Micah.”
As she passed by him, he grabbed her and pushed her against the wall. He pressed his body to hers, his stiff bulge throbbing through his pants against her pelvis. She shook her head, but he put his hands on the sides of her face and held her still, capturing her lips in his.
He kissed her roughly, desperately, and within moments she surrendered to his demanding mouth. Warm liquid pooled between her legs as she melted into him. She loved this like she loved him. She wanted him like this always. He moved a hand down to her breast. His fingers kneaded her frantically, drawing her nipple out easily.
She moaned, and he moved his lips to her ear. “Doesn’t this mean anything to you?” His voice was thick with need. “What you do to me? How you respond to my touch?” He pinched her nipple and her breath drew in sharply. “Can you really walk away from this?”
Maddie moved her hands to his chest and, fighting against every aroused nerve ending in her body with more strength than she knew she had, she pushed him away. He dropped his hands and stepped back.
She wiped her mouth, trying to erase the taste of him. “It’s sex, Micah,” she said when she could speak. “As long as you’re officially free and single, that’s all we have.”
She turned again to leave, but paused in the doorway. “Silent partner, I think.”
“I’ll tell Richard.” His voice was cold and empty, breaking her heart further—she hadn’t known it was possible.
Without another word she walked out on Micah Preston, her chest aching, and her pride hurt. It killed her to admit, but she had learned something important: Fairytale endings only ever happened in the movies.
Twenty-Eight
Micah woke up with a hangover from hell. He peered over at the alarm clock on the nightstand. Ten forty-seven am. How come it felt so much earlier?
He lay in bed massaging his temples for several minutes to no avail. Finally, he staggered to the bathroom for Advil, only to find an empty bottle in his medicine cabinet. Dammit.
He relieved himself and splashed water on his face, then ventured downstairs in search of pain reliever. Dressed only in his boxers and squinting to shield his eyes from the bright light of day, he stumbled to the kitchen of his Brentwood mansion. Fudge sat on a stool at the island eating a bowl of cold cereal, reading the latest Walking Dead comic book.
“Morning,” Fudge greeted around a mouthful of Cinnamon Life.
Micah groaned, heading straight for the stainless steel refrigerator. “Could you crunch a little less loudly, please?” He opened the freezer cabinet, pulled out a package of frozen peas—when on earth had he purchased frozen peas?—and placed the vegetables over his throbbing forehead.
Fudge tsked. “Feeling the effects of last night? I’m not surprised. I think you drank all the Tequila.”
“Tequila?” Micah leaned back against the cool stainless steel door. “I thought I was drinking Vodka.”
“That was the night before.”
The night before, that’s right. How many nights had he spent in a drunken haze now? Let’s see, since Tuesday after he’d last seen Maddie. What was that…five nights ago, now? Christ, if he kept this up he was going to be an alcoholic in no time.
Micah threw down the peas and rubbed his hands over his face. “Do you know where I can find some Tylenol or something?”
Fudge waited until he swallowed to speak. “There should be some in the cabinet under the mini-bar.”
“Good place for them.”
He made his way to the mini-bar in the dining room off the kitchen. There he found a bottle of aspirin, emptied two small pills into his hand and downed them with the rest of the almost empty bottle of Cuervo Gold. Hair of the dog that bit him, he reasoned.
After tossing the finished Cuervo bottle into the trash, he opened the fridge of the mini-bar and grabbed a bottle of water. “Do I have anything going on today?” he asked as he returned to the kitchen.
Fudge flipped a page in his comic book. “Hmm? I don’t think so.”
Even the sound of pages flipping irritated Micah. He took a swig of water, wishing it was something stronger. “What time do I have to be at the award show tomorrow?” He paused. “That is tomorrow, isn’t it
Fudge dropped his spoon in his bowl, causing an annoying clank. “Am I your secretary now?”
His friend had been teasing, but Micah wasn’t in the mood. “You’re my half-assed bodyguard who lives free of charge in my pool house. Excuse me for thinking you could maybe pull a little weight around here.”
“Grumpy.” Fudge rolled his eyes then crossed to the kitchen laptop. He clicked on a desktop icon and turned the screen to Micah. “Here. I pulled up your calendar.”
Micah massaged his scalp, trying to rub away his irritation. “Ooo, thanks. What effort that must have taken.”
“What the fuck is your problem? You’ve been in a foul mood all week.”
Micah ignored Fudge and glanced at the laptop. Yep. America’s Choice Awards were scheduled for the next day. At least he wasn’t up for an award. He was just a presenter—a much easier job with very little focus on him from the press.
“In fact,” Fudge was still talking. “You’ve been in a foul mood since that investment meeting you went to about Maddie’s movie.”
Micah scowled at her name. He didn’t want to think about her, hence the recent large consumption of alcohol. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He pulled the laptop closer, not really looking at it, but trying to discourage Fudge from conversation.
Fudge wasn’t deterred at all. “Come to think of it, you’ve been a bitch since the last week of filming. Since right around when Maddie left production.”
Ow, her name again.
Fudge patted Micah on the back. “Did the standard Preston brush-off not go well?”
Micah let out a groan. Even though the two of them were good friends, he didn’t share much emotional crap with Fudge. What he knew about Micah’s personal life was from observation and interrogation. Interrogating was today’s tactic.
“I didn’t give her the standard Preston brush-off. We ended things mutually.” Only a partial lie. She wanted one thing, he wanted another. They’d both had a chance to let it not end, and neither of them took it.