So Micah had done a quick walk around the wrap party, making sure he said goodbye to the people he wasn’t sure he’d see again. Then, not wanting to be totally uncool and leave before midnight, he grabbed a beer and found a quiet spot to relax.
That was when he’d spotted her, making her way through the crowd with such purpose and direction it seemed as if she were coming to join him. She’d stopped to survey the spectacle at the pool and he’d had a perfect view of her long legs and firm behind. An image of her bent naked in front of him had flashed through his mind and his cock was twitching before she even turned around. When he did see her face—her perfectly plump lips, her deep chocolate eyes—he knew he had to touch her, taste her, feel her against him. And that he did.
He closed his lids as he remembered.
It was a good thing their encounter was interrupted. He hadn’t enjoyed going home blue-balled, but he’d been minutes away from taking her fast and hard in an empty bathroom of his producer’s house, and she deserved something more than a hot round of wham bam thank you ma’am. Micah wanted to give her that something more and he planned to take her out on a real date and end up in a bedroom, nice and proper.
Not for the first time that morning, he pulled out his phone and stared at her contact information, trying to decide if he’d seem too eager if he sent her a text. Ah hell, he didn’t care if he sounded eager—he was eager—to know her, to touch her again.
He began composing a text when the receptionist called his name.
“Mr. Steeling will see you now.”
Micah saved the draft and pocketed his phone. He’d have to save his fantasies for later—now it was time to focus on the biggest moment of his career.
A few minutes later, Micah found himself seated across from Stu Steeling, who perched behind an immaculate mahogany desk.
“I’m going to get right to the point,” Stu said after they greeted each other. “I’m not much for small talk—it’s a waste of time, and in this business, time is money. I’ve seen your work. You’re talented, there’s no question about that. And you’re good-looking. Priscilla tells me you’ve been working with her for”—he paused to study a small notepad he’d pulled from his pocket—“seven years. Most people would say you should have hit it big by now if you were ever going to, but I’m not most people. How old are you?”
“Twenty-four.”
Stu’s forehead creased. “Twenty-four is older than I like to start with clients, but it’s not a deal breaker. It just means that if you agree to work with me, you’ll have to really commit to the guidelines I set out for you, and I mean commit—one hundred percent, no fucking around. Building an image in Hollywood is not impossible, but it takes dedication and hard work. It’s grueling and not recommended for the faint of heart. What do you say?”
“I’m not opposed to hard work.” Micah had just finished three indie films in a period of just as many months, and was not any worse for the wear. He was tempted to agree to whatever Stu had in mind, no questions asked, but decided to play it cool and aloof. “Though I’d like to know exactly what you propose before I can commit to anything.”
“Excellent—a young man interested in the details before signing on. You don’t know how many people fail that part of this interview.”
Micah hid any reaction, grateful he didn’t jump on Stu’s offer. He sat back in his chair and waited for Stu to proceed.
“I’ll expect you to work on project after project. There are no breaks when you’re climbing the ladder. I will push you to audition, audition, audition. You’ll be so tired you’ll want to kill me. But that should all go without saying.”
“It does.”
“Now here’s the tough stuff. First and foremost, no drugs, no drunk driving, no excessive Brindsay LoSpears-type partying. I don’t care if you smoke a little weed now and then, but if you’re ever caught with anything harder than that—and you’re always caught—I’ll drop you immediately. Clear?”
Easy peasy. “I’m clean. I’m not even a big drinker.”
“Perfect. Next, you need to get to a voice teacher. You got the acting chops, but your speech isn’t as clear as it could be. You have a bit of a mid-western dialect at times.”
Micah hadn’t heard that one in a while, but he knew where it came from. “I grew up in Kansas. I moved here at thirteen when my parents got divorced.”
“Yeah, that’s in your speech. It’s actually somewhat endearing, but it doesn’t work for every character and from what I’ve seen, you don’t ever vary it.”
“I’ll get a voice teacher. I’m glad to learn more acting tools.”
“Good. I’ve got someone I work with who’s excellent. She’ll come to you so you can train while you’re working.” Stu made a note on his pad. “We need to get you a personal trainer—the kind who’s going to whip your ass and make you puke after every session. I know you’re in pretty good shape now, but we need to see a six-pack when you take off your shirt and from the footage I got from Dirk Davenport, you’ve only got a four-pack.”
Micah knew that was coming. He hadn’t worked as hard at the gym as he could have, but no one ever complained about his naturally well-built physique before. He also hadn’t made it into a feature film yet. Maybe his body could use some work.
“Speaking of Davenport,” Stu said without waiting for Micah to agree to a trainer, “he’s a great director and I admire him. He knows how to cast pretty boys who can also act. But there’s a reason he’s never made it past his indie film status. Gay films are just not mainstream. You’re not gay, are you?”
“No,” Micah said, thinking about Maddie again. “Definitely not.”
“Perfect. Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay. I’m all for equal rights and all that bullshit, but we’ve got to be honest—most of the actors who are hot right now are straight. Or, at least, they waited until they were famous before they came out of the closet. I hope as much as anyone that that changes soon, but for now, that’s the formula for success. Don’t get me wrong, this gay indie is going to look great on your resume. Especially since you’re straight—it shows you can act. But now we need to focus on your heterosexuality. Do you have a girlfriend, fiancée, wife?”
Micah wasn’t sure how Stu wanted him to answer. He'd played gay on film—not anything porn-like, just some kissing. It was no big deal—he was acting. Maybe Stu wanted him to have a girlfriend to combat that image. But he didn’t have a girlfriend at the moment. Not yet, anyway. He went for the truthful answer. “Nope, I’m completely single.”
“Terrific! It’s much easier to sell a single young actor than one that’s attached. The women all want to believe they have a shot with you and the girlfriend thing just gets in the way. I’m not suggesting you cut out sex—you can have as many fuck flings as you like. Hell, that usually works in your favor. Every gossip rag is dying to tie you to someone. It’s great publicity.
“Not that we can’t work things out if you do hook up with someone long term. But, I’m telling you man-to-man, it’s not easy to manage love and a career. Women mess with your time and emotions. They pout every time you have to spend weeks away on a shoot or, heaven forbid, have to do an on-screen kiss. And you can never tell if they’re into you or your money. Keep the strings unattached and you’re better off. Just a suggestion from a guy who’s been around.”
Micah opened his mouth to comment, but didn’t know what to say. Show biz and relationships…boy, did he know something about that. Stu’s advice wasn’t half bad.
“Anyway, kid, if you’re serious, I’ll sign you today. Keep your nose clean, work on your trade, don’t get distracted, and I promise that I’ll make you a star. I’m sure you know I’ve got an excellent track record and no one’s ever been—”