Smooth Operator Read online

  I looked at Tyler in alarm, who, in turn, was staring at Doug in alarm. Doug was furiously punching numbers into his cell phone. Everyone was staring expectantly at Doug now, waiting to hear what Brittany had done that had infuriated him.

  "Brittany is passed out drunk in her room. I've sent my personal assistant to stay with her until she wakes up. Until then, it looks like we will have to rehearse without her today," Doug announced.

  "The scenes we're rehearsing today all have Emmeline in them," Tyler pointed out with a frown. "Am I just supposed to act against nothing?"

  Doug thought for a moment, then his eyes slid to me, sitting next to Tyler. "Olivia can do it."

  Everyone turned to look at me. "Um, I'm not an actress," I stated the obvious, hating being in the spotlight.

  "Yeah, but you said it yourself. No one knows these characters better than you because you created them. Who better to stand in as Emmeline than the woman who made her?" Doug said bracingly.

  I looked at Tyler in exasperation, who was staring back at me in contemplation. Tyler shrugged. "He has a point. Besides, it's just a rehearsal. No crowd, no cameras. Just us."

  I exhaled quickly. "I'm- I mean- I guess I can do it, but-"

  Doug clapped once and sat back down. "That settles it, then. Let's not waste any more of my precious time lollygagging. Tyler, Olivia, start on page thirty-one. Act Two, Scene Three."

  I squeaked. This could not be happening to me. Act Two, Scene Three was a love scene that immediately preceded a romantic kidnapping scene. Great. Not only was I going to be humiliated by my terrible acting, but I'd be humiliated by my terrible acting in a love scene.

  Tyler took one look at my face and smirked. He leaned in close and whispered into my ear. "Don't worry. We don't actually have to kiss. Unless you want to." He winked at me, and I died a little inside. It was too late to back out now, though, despite my crippling nervousness about doing this scene in front of everyone I worked with.

  I followed Tyler to our pre-marked positions, script in hand. In this scene, Emmeline is folding laundry when Rafe stumbles into the maid station. After weeks of pent-up tension and foreplay, Rafe embraces Emmeline for the first time, and it culminates in a night of unbridled passion. Honestly, there wasn't too much speaking in this scene. I wasn't needed. I was going to point this out, but the look on Doug's face when I turned around made me change my mind about saying anything.

  I picked up the prop sheet and began folding it, glancing down at my script while I did so. Tyler-as-Rafe sauntered into my workspace as I tried very hard to make this look professional.

  "Monsieur Daniels," I said woodenly. I didn't bother attempting a French accent. Everyone here knows I wasn't going to be some fantastic actress all of a sudden.

  "Emmeline," Tyler purred. His voice's deep, accented timbre sent a shiver of arousal down my spine straight to my groin, and I swallowed, gripping the sheet tightly. Tyler was very good at acting. I was seduced in one second flat. "Call me Rafe."

  Tyler stalked over to me like a cat watching its prey. "That would be most inappropriate, monsieur," I stammered.

  Tyler stopped in front of me, so close that I had to lean my head back to look into his face. Tyler's whole demeanor had transformed, from lighthearted and joking to sensual, intense, seductive. He leaned into me, pulling my body flush against his. There was a flash of recognition in his eyes when he realized how aroused I actually was.

  "Not as inappropriate as what you do to me, madam," Tyler whispered, his voice hoarse.

  I backed away, which was what the script required, but was the exact opposite of what every cell in my body was screaming at me to do- run my fingers through his hair, pull his face down to mine, make love to him on a stack of itchy sheets provided by the prop department, observers be damned. "You forget yourself, sir."

  "Do I forget myself, or am I just now discovering my true self?" Tyler continued to stalk me as I moved around the set.

  Rafe finally corners Emmeline against a closet, and there's nowhere else for her to flee. I backed myself up against the wall, and Tyler braced his hands on either side of my head, boxing me in. "Sweet Emmeline. You have tempted me for far too long, and I have gone far too long without a woman. I wonder, will you taste as sweet as I've dreamed?"

  I swallowed, pinned back by the dark look in Tyler's eyes. I couldn't remember my next line. I was the one who wrote this, why couldn't I remember what I was supposed to say? Tyler shifted closer to me, and my gaze dropped to his lips, which were moving almost imperceptibly. "Why don't you taste and find out?"

  What a good idea. My eyes fluttered to his neck, and Tyler nudged me.

  "Olivia!" Doug barked, startling me and reminding me of exactly where we were. "Your next line is 'Why don't you taste and find out?' Start from the top and this time, remember your lines, please. You only have ten of them."

  I looked at Doug in annoyance, about to remind him that I was not, in fact, an actress. I was helping him out today, and a little gratitude would be nice. We moved back to our original positions, and by the time we got back to the closet door, I remembered my line correctly.

  "Why don't you taste and find out?" I whispered.

  Tyler's head dipped into the crook of my exposed neck, so close that I could feel his breath tickling the microscopic hairs there. My skin erupted in goosebumps. There was no hiding the physical effect his nearness had on me, and I knew I wasn't the only one feeling it.

  "Let's do it again from 'taste as sweet as I've dreamed,' and this time, Tyler, instead of your hands being on the wall, grab Olivia's waist. I want to feel like you're barely restraining yourself from giving into a lust that has been building for weeks," Doug called. Doug was going to get exactly what he wanted if we kept going like this.

  We reset again. "Sweet Emmeline. You have tempted me far too long, and I have gone far too long without a woman. I wonder, will you taste as sweet as I've dreamed?" Tyler moved back in front of me, boxing me in again.

  "Why don't you taste and find out?" I whispered.

  This time, Tyler grabbed me by the hips and hauled me up against him. I gasped involuntarily, and my lips parted, inviting him in. Tyler maintained eye contact with me as he lowered his head into the crook of my neck again. I closed my eyes in anticipation, exhaling sharply as his lips brushed softly against my neck. His tongue darted out slightly, tasting the salt on my skin and making me squirm. Tyler shifted, and I realized with a thrill that he was attempting to hide an erection.

  He lifted his head back up, his eyes heavily lidded with lust. "Like honeyed nectar. So sweet, mon amour."

  I lifted my hands to encircle his neck, as per the script. "Feast on my nectar, milord."

  Lithely, Tyler picked me up and cradled me in his arms. He walked to the chaise longue that was the centerpiece of the bedroom set and gently lowered me until my back hit the cushioned chair. I could've sworn I saw a wink when he lowered himself over me and fingered a lock of my hair that had come undone.

  "Okay, we can stop there," Doug called. "Next scene. Paul, Bob, you're up. Great job, Olivia. You want a permanent job?"

  "God no," I called from my couch, trying to slow down my racing heart and cool my flushed cheeks.

  Tyler jumped off the chaise and extended a hand to me. I was not so gracefully pulled into a standing position, and Tyler's hand lingered on mine for a little longer than was comfortable. We were forced to move to the side as the crew quickly began swapping the sets out. The last four scenes on the schedule today didn't require Emmeline, so I was off the hook for the rest of the day, but Tyler needed to be in every scene except the next one.

  I hoped Brittany felt better by Monday because I don't know how much more of being Tyler's scene partner I could take without ripping off my clothes and begging him to take me without giving two damns about all of our co-workers watching. I knew now why cheating was so prevalent in Hollywood. It was impossible to be in this artificially intimate situation without catching real feelings- even if
they were just feelings of lust. Tyler was an outstanding actor, and very good at making me feel like he meant those things Rafe was saying. I just need to remember that this is all fake and keep my head straight, not get reality confused with fiction.

  Tyler nudged me, startling me from my silent contemplation. "You're a pretty good scene partner. Angling to take Brittany's place?"

  I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, right. You, though, you were amazing. You made me believe you wanted to ravage me."

  Tyler's eyes darkened, and he tilted his head. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. "Yeah. That's the job." He swallowed and looked at the actors taking their place. "Hey. Do you want to get a drink tonight?"

  What was this? "Um. Maybe another time," I said.

  Tyler worked quickly to hide the disappointment in his eyes, but I still caught it. "I mean, it's not like you actually want to have a drink with me. You're just trying to be friendly."

  "No, I want to have a drink with you," Tyler said softly.

  "Excuse me," I said in alarm, standing up. "I have to go to the bathroom."

  "Oh. Okay," Tyler said, confused.

  I hurried away, and instead of going to the bathroom, I went to my car. I sat inside for a few minutes, banging my head softly on the steering wheel with my eyes shut. Well, if Tyler had wanted to have a drink with me before, he certainly didn't want to now that he knew I was a giant spaz. Or maybe he'd be more interested when he realized I wasn't jumping at the chance to be another notch in his bedpost, even though I really, really wanted to.

  I headed back into the soundstage nonchalantly, not acknowledging the fact that I had obviously gone outside instead of going to the bathroom. Tyler looked at me with concern, but I waved away his worry, sitting cross-legged on my chair and taking notes on the rest of the scenes for the day.

  I am an idiot.

  Chapter Seven

  Despite Tyler's insistence that I go out on the weekend and explore everything Los Angeles had to offer, I spent both of my days alternately sleeping or ordering obnoxiously large amounts of food from room service with no remorse. I don't care what Tyler advised me to do. I'd had a pretty great weekend.

  Sunday morning, Doug had called me to let me know Brittany was being admitted to rehab, and her replacement, Vanessa Rowley, would be in on Monday to start rehearsals. Unfortunately, this pushed filming back a week because we needed to re-rehearse every scene with the new actress. Honestly, though, it was a good thing that Brittany was being replaced by Vanessa. She was a lovely person, I guess, but she needed some serious help.

  I walked onto the set Monday well-rested, well-fed, and prepared for another long week. I was anxious to see what Vanessa was going to do with Emmeline, though anything was bound to be better than Brittany's flat affectation and drunken hissy fits.

  I waved to Tyler, who was leaning against a clothing rack, sweet-talking a costume designer. He stood up straight when he saw me, smiling and ignoring the hands on his shirt as the designer leaned in close to whisper something to him. I pushed the sudden wave of jealousy down and walked to craft services for a coffee. I grabbed my coffee quickly and went off in search of Doug, who I found talking to a raven-haired statuesque goddess of a woman by the back door. I felt absurdly intimidated, even inadequate, as I approached them.

  "Ah, just the woman I wanted to see!" Doug said. "Olivia, this is Vanessa Rowley, your new and improved Emmeline Pauvrefille. Vanessa, this is Olivia Holman, author of the source material and the screenwriter."

  Vanessa nodded at me politely and held out her hand for a shake. I shook it, marveling at her soft skin and how feminine her handshake was. I'd never noticed how masculine my hands were before now.

  Vanessa released herself from the handshake, and I shoved my man hands back into hiding where they belonged. "Welcome, Vanessa. I'm very excited to work with you."

  "Thank you," she replied. "Bet you were glad to be rid of that awful Brittany Campbell and get someone like me on board, eh?"

  I was so utterly bewitched by Vanessa's lilting English accent that I didn't immediately realize how obnoxious her statement was.

  "Well, of course, we're excited to have you, darling, you're goddamned Vanessa Rowley," Doug simpered.

  "Oh please, Douggy, if you'd wanted me that badly, you'd have cast me in the first place," Vanessa pouted.

  "You know very well it's because you declined us initially," Doug said.

  "That was before I knew I'd be working with my old friend Tyler," Vanessa said. "Speaking of, has anyone seen him yet today? I wanted to catch up before rehearsals."

  What could she have meant by that wink or the emphasis she'd placed on catch up? My jealousy went on high alert. "I saw him talking to a costume designer," I said stupidly. "When I was first walking in."

  "Brilliant," Vanessa said. "I'll go find him."

  She sauntered away, her hips swaying in a way that kind of had me questioning my sexuality.

  "Isn't she something?" Doug said, letting out a low whistle as we both watched her walk away.

  "You're a married man, Doug," I reminded him. I knew what he meant, though. Vanessa was captivating.

  "And I love my wife very much, obviously. Besides, Vanessa can be too much of a diva for me. You'll see- she's a brilliant actress, but she can be very demanding."

  "Looking forward to it." I groaned and looked down at my watch. "Five till. Let's go see what she's got."

  Doug nodded, and I followed him to where everyone was gathered in a group, looking over their scripts for the day. Vanessa had found Tyler, apparently, and I didn't want to assess the pang of jealousy that hit me when I saw the hand that she had placed on his chest as she giggled uncontrollably at some witticism of his.

  Doug cleared his throat, and everyone snapped to attention. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet our new, improved, sober Emmeline Pauvrefille, Miss Vanessa Rowley. Vanessa used to work with Tyler on Passions of our Lives, so they are already experienced scene partners. This small change is going to elevate Smooth Operator to the next level, just you wait and see." Everyone clapped politely for Vanessa, who smiled graciously and waved her hand like a princess at a parade. "Okay, let's start with Act One, Scene Two- Emmeline gets hired by Rafe."

  I took my seat between Doug and his assistant Dayna, pen poised above paper as I prepared to take notes.

  "Man, I am not looking forward to working with her," Dayna whispered, surprising me. "She's going to be even worse than Brittany."

  "What? Why?" I leaned in to whisper back.

  "She is notoriously needy. Treats you like trash if she considers you below her. Sure, she'll be nice to you if she thinks you can do something to help her career, but she's a nightmare if you can't benefit her in some way." Dayna pursed her lips in distaste.

  "How do you know all this?" I asked curiously.

  "I've worked with her before," Dayna said. "She didn't even recognize me though. She introduced herself to me again."

  Vanessa and Tyler started rehearsing their scene, and Dayna and I stopped talking to watch. Vanessa was spellbinding as Emmeline, and everyone was rapt. Her feigned French accent worked well with her swarthy, dark good looks. It was easy to see how Rafe would've found his maid irresistible. I had to agree with Doug. The addition of Vanessa to our cast was elevating the movie to a height that wouldn’t have been possible with Brittany.

  Though she is a fantastic actress, Vanessa did live up to her diva persona when it came to taking direction from Doug. She had a different, "better" idea every time Doug tried to block the scene, offering up her "superior" opinion on how things should be done. She was a woman used to getting her way.

  Tyler and Vanessa were like magic together, though. As much as the ugly green monster in me hated it, the professional in me had to admit that recasting Emmeline was the best thing we could have done for the movie. I would just have to accept the fact that Sex on a Stick was going to be all over Tyler every day. Not that I even had a right to be jealous over Tyler anyway.


  Rehearsals went all day from seven in the morning until seven at night, with only a short break for lunch. Doug was determined to get everything just right and keep everyone on schedule, despite Vanessa's bullheadedness and the setback with Brittany, and he made Tyler and Vanessa reset their scenes constantly until everything was perfect. By the end of the day, even the ordinarily easygoing Tyler was annoyed and sniping at people.

  Finally, Doug called it a day, to everyone's relief. Vanessa was hanging onto Tyler's arm and laughing that tinkling laugh over something Tyler had said. I ignored the way this made me feel as I packed my stuff into my backpack and hoisted it over my shoulder. I was ready for a nice, long bath and falling asleep with the television on.

  "Big plans tonight?" Dayna appeared next to me, holding her bag at her side.

  "Oh yeah, Serta and I have a big date night planned," I quipped. "How about you?"

  Dayna smiled. "Going home to hang out with my sister Lauren."

  "Sounds exciting." We walked out the back door to the parking lot together.

  "Yeah, if you find gossiping about whatever Brixley did to Kayleigh or what Tiara said about Mayleigh exciting," Dayna said, rolling her eyes. "I love her, though, and I'm all she's got, so I put up with her twelve-year-old self and all the drama that comes with that."

  "That's amazing, Dayna," I said, meaning it. "She's lucky to have you."

  "Jury's still out on that," Dayna said. She clicked a button on her key fob, searching for her car. It beeped three rows down. "See you tomorrow, then."

  "See ya," I replied, trying to locate my car. Tyler and Vanessa were exiting the building together now, and I hurried to my beeping vehicle, avoiding eye contact.

  I don't know why I was so jealous of Vanessa, really, and it galled me that I could be this jealous of a woman who had done nothing to me. I'd only know Tyler for a couple of months, and it's not like he was even into me in any real way, or would ever be. He was a player, in all senses of the word, and I should stay far away from any and all drama that comes with that.

  What should've been a twenty-minute drive to the hotel took me an hour, most of which I'd spent alternately daydreaming of Chinese food or avoiding thinking about my confusing feelings about Tyler. As soon as I got back to the hotel, I ordered some General Tso's chicken, beef and broccoli, and some spring rolls, not correcting the woman on the phone when she asked if I needed three sets of cutlery.