Passionate Premiere. Deborah Fletcher Mello
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looked from the check to Leslie and back, her mouth dropping open in surprise. The six-figure amount was significant, and the accompanying note threw the woman completely off guard. Dahlia read it once, then a second and third time.
Leslie snatched the note from Dahlia’s hands. She read out loud, still whispering, “‘I look forward to doing business with you. We’ll negotiate my executive producer responsibilities over our next bottle. Your turn to buy this time. Guy Boudreaux.’”
Dahlia shook her head as she moved in the direction of the door.
Leslie stalled her one last time. “And Phaedra called. She and her new husband heard good things about your movie and they are also interested in investing.”
Dahlia shook her head. “Phaedra has a new husband?” she asked as her hand reached for the doorknob.
Her friend nodded. “A very wealthy husband. And her new hubby has very wealthy brothers, but then you already know that, right?”
A look of confusion crossed Dahlia’s face. “I do?”
Leslie laughed. “Uh, yeah! It seems she and your new executive producer are related by marriage.”
Dahlia’s eyes widened considerably. “Phaedra married Guy’s brother? Why weren’t we invited to the wedding? Were we invited to the wedding?”
Leslie laughed again.
“Apparently, it was a quiet ceremony with just the two of them and their immediate families. Call her. Our sorority sister has a lot to catch you up on. And when you’re done with your new friend in there, I want to hear every detail about your meeting with Guy Boudreaux and that bottle you two shared. Can’t believe you didn’t tell me you spent time with that fine man,” Leslie fussed as Dahlia shook her head.
Studying the generous check one more time, Dahlia wasn’t sure whether she should throw her arms around the man’s neck and hug him or squeeze the life out of him. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door to her office and stepped inside.
Guy Boudreaux sat in the leather executive’s chair behind her glass-and-metal desk. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, his leather loafers resting on the desk’s corner. His cell phone was tucked between his ear and shoulder as he chatted easily with someone on the other end, all the while flipping through the papers that had been on her desk.
As Dahlia closed the office door behind her, Guy greeted her with a wide grin and a slight wave of his hand. He seemed quite comfortable. Too comfortable, Dahlia thought. And damn, if he didn’t look good, too! Walking to where he sat, Dahlia snatched her files from his hands, a look of annoyance on her face. He continued to grin at her as she pulled his phone away and disconnected his call. She dropped the device into his lap, then gave him a not-so-gentle push to move out of her seat.
“Executive producer? Isn’t that a stretch?” she questioned.
Guy stood up, the length of his frame tall above her, and she was awed by the nearness of him. The man radiated body heat like an overworked furnace on a cold night. The heat was consuming, and she suddenly wanted to strip naked for relief. The sensations sweeping through her were unnerving. She took two steps back from him, fighting not to blatantly fan herself.
Guy laughed. “Well, hello to you, too, Dahlia.”
“Guy.” Dahlia eased her way around him to sit in her seat.
As she passed, her shoulder brushed against his arm, and the connection was like an igniting flame. Guy felt his body tense; the scent of her perfume threw lighter fluid on his rising emotions. Every muscle hardened beneath his skin. Dahlia gestured toward the empty chair, wishing for some distance between them.
Moving to the other side of the table and the cushioned chair in front of her desk, Guy sat down. He took a deep breath before he spoke, willing the tension away. “No, I don’t think it’s a stretch at all. In fact, I’m thinking it’s quite appropriate in light of my very generous contribution.”
Dahlia paused, fighting to focus her eyes on anything except his face. “I’m willing to concede that. As long as you understand it’s strictly honorary.” She crossed her arms over her chest, finally lifting her gaze to his.
Guy held her stare for a moment, startled by the intensity that pierced past her forest-thick lashes. The look she was giving him was intoxicating, and something like desire washed over him. He could only begin to imagine what she saw in his own eyes since desire was exactly what he was feeling for her. He crossed one leg over the other, hoping to hide the sudden rise of nature between them. He cleared his throat. “What? You mean you don’t want me to be hands-on?”
“Truthfully, I want you to be exceptionally hands-off,” Dahlia emphasized. “You get a script, you memorize and deliver your lines like the professional I know you are and it’ll be all good between us.”
“We’ll see about that,” he said lightly as he shifted the conversation, leaning forward in his seat. “What time are you buying me dinner tonight?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you know my friend Phaedra?”
“Do you always answer a question by changing the subject with another question?” Guy countered.
Dahlia shrugged, feigning disinterest. “I’m not buying you dinner. If anything, I’ll buy you a bottle of water, but that’s about it. I don’t mix business with pleasure, Mr. Boudreaux.”
Guy nodded. “I’m glad to hear that,” he responded, feigning his own disinterest, “because my intent is strictly business. I do, however, try to eat three square meals per day. And since I’m on a strict regimen, there’s little that’s pleasurable about it, not even the prospect of your company. So, I should be done by seven o’clock. Shall we meet at eight?”
Dahlia paused, the man’s arrogance taking her by surprise. There was a hint of teasing in his tone, and that annoyed her, as well. For a brief moment she thought about throwing him out on his very delectable behind, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’d riled her.
“Tonight won’t work. I have another commitment,” she said finally.
“A date?” Guy asked curiously.
She ignored his query, amused that he would even think that he could question her plans. “I’ll meet you tomorrow afternoon at Roscoe’s,” she responded. “Can you do three o’clock?”
Guy laughed. “Two would be better, so let’s split the difference. Will two-thirty work for you?”
“Two-thirty it is,” Dahlia said.
“Enjoy your date tonight, Dahlia,” Guy said, tossing her a quick wink of his eye. He stood up and made his way to the door. He stopped short, turning back around to face her. “Oh, and to answer your other question, Phaedra married my older brother, Mason. She and I are family.” His grin widened. “See you tomorrow, beautiful.” He made his exit, his expression eager at the prospect.
Without responding, Dahlia leaned back in her seat. Leslie drew her attention as she cleared her throat in the doorway. The two friends locked gazes.
“And you won’t do dinner why?” Leslie asked.
“Were you eavesdropping?”
“You know I was.”
Dahlia shook her head. “Because he expected that I would just jump at the opportunity, and I’m not giving him that satisfaction.”
Leslie laughed. “And lunch tomorrow will be your comeuppance?”
Dahlia smiled. “It’s not dinner and he’s not dictating the where and the when.”
Leslie’s eyes widened. “You like that man.”
Dahlia’s face scrunched up in annoyance, her eyes narrowing to thin slits. “He’s an employee.”
Leslie laughed