Chapter 6: Chapter 6

“It’s a shitty movie, Rome,” Jeannie Stokes, the director of Cop with a Side of Robot, declared standing next to the new set that was just completed, her hands on her hips. “It’s a shitty script, a shitty concept. Everything about it is shitty, shitty, shitty, Rome.”

“Tell me how you really feel,” he muttered, looking at the robot in front of him as if it was a plate full of vegetables he had to eat before he could get up from the table.

“We both know that. But… we’ve got to get through it. We can’t move on to less shittier projects until we’re done with this particular shitshow.”

He shook his head. “That’s what I’m telling you, Jeannie. You may get to go on to do something less shittier when this is all over, but I will be stuck in this revolving door of shit for the next nine movies.”

“You don’t know that.” She placed her hand on his shoulder in sympathy.

“I do know that. Henry Caron will tell you if you ask him.”

The middle-aged woman with dirty blonde hair that she always pulled into a ponytail on the back of her head took a deep breath. “I understand the two of you have a history, but I can’t imagine anyone would be willing to waste that sort of money to ruin someone’s career.”

“I can.” He knew he was stalling, that she was right, that he needed to just get in there and film the scene, but the idea of saying the lines as they were written, including a declaration that made him cringe just thinking about it, had him stuck. “You may have been made in a robotics department at a robot factory in Robot City, but you made me human through your loyalty, courage, and heart. And that makes you the best damn partner I’ve ever had!” How could he say that line with any sense of honesty? That line alone could ruin his career, and that was one of dozens he’d already pushed through in the filming, most of the time with his mouth full of bile.

“Rome, you’re a good kid. Chances are, you’re about to see your name all over the nomination lists for the movie you did with Wynnie. That comes out at the end of the month, right?” He nodded. He was looking forward to the release, even though he wouldn't be able to take his wife to the openings. “This shitty little movie will fade away in the shadow of that accomplishment. If anyone asks why you did it, tell them the truth; it was part of your parents’ sale to Caron. You had nothing to do with it.” She shrugged like it was just that easy.

He thought she was wrong. He was certain that he would be the laughing stock of Hollywood as soon as this movie came out. If any reporter asked him to explain why he decided to do the movie, he couldn’t give the answer she had just rattled off without looking like a cry baby. No, he’d have to lie and say there was something about the manuscript he’d been drawn to, even though he had no idea what that might be. Perhaps he could hang his hat on good CGI or something like that, though he doubted it. Henry was likely to put as little time and money into making this movie look good as possible since he was sure to tank at the box office and cost him hundreds of thousands of dollars.

“Please, for my sake then, Rome, let’s just get it over with. I promise you, if there’s anything I can do to help you in the future, to get you out of this situation, I will. If you’ll help me get out of it now. I have another project with another studio I’d love to work on, but I’ve gotta be done with this shitshow first. Let’s just get it over with, put it behind us, and move on. Please.”

Rome looked down at his tap shoes--yes, his character, the cop, wore tap shoes--and then back at Jeannie. She was a good director, and she didn’t deserve to have her name tied to this train wreck either. He’d stalled as much as he could lately, trying to irritate Henry and eat up more money in production cost, but she was right. He was doing an injustice to everyone else by dragging his feet. “Fine,” he said quietly. “I’ll do it. But let’s just settle on one take. I’m not going to be able to do it any better the second, third, three hundredth time.”

“Works for me,” Jeannie said, patting him on the back.

With a deep breath, Rome squared himself to the makeup and hair people, letting them fix anything he’d messed up while he was talking to Jeannie. He would be happy to put this movie behind him. Even if it meant he’d have to live through another nine installments of hell, he would finish this one as quickly as possible now.

Once he was presentable for the camera, Rome stepped into his spot and waited for Jeannie to start rolling film, praying he and Ella would find a way to get out from under Henry before he had to do it all over again.

* * *

It wasn’t getting any easier. Juliet sat across from Henry in a fancy restaurant, wearing an elegant gown and lots of sparkly diamonds, a fake smile on her face as he rambled on about how it had been growing up in France. She pretended to know nothing about the country, despite the fact that she had lived there most of her life. At least, when he was talking, she didn’t have to think up lies or pretend to be someone she wasn’t. All she had to do was ask questions and try to pay attention long enough to remember what he’d said.

But it was a task easier said than done. Sitting across from him, her stomach tightened into a knot, she wished she could scream at him and tell him how much she hated him. Instead, she had to pretend to be interested in him, as if she might want to be his girlfriend, or more, someday. The idea made her nauseated. As it was, she was nervous about the fact that he’d surely expect a kiss goodnight this time. He’d picked her up from her “apartment” which was really where an artist friend of hers lived, and would be taking her back there later. He’d lean in, his eyes closed, and she’d have to press her lips against his….

“After that, we moved to Paris,” he was saying as Juliet tried to keep her stomach from forcing what few bites of chicken she’d managed to swallow back up. “I’m sorry. I feel like I’ve been talking about myself all night,” he said with a sigh and a small smile. “I’d love to hear more about you.”

“There’s not much to tell you that I haven’t already.” That was so not true, but she obviously couldn't tell him the truth. “I grew up in LA. My parents moved to Florida about two years ago. I told you how I went to school to get my degree in graphic design.” She shrugged again. “Then, I started my business but didn’t get much traction until I saw the story about Ella Sinders and contacted Rome.” She rolled her eyes, hoping to remind him that she was not a fan of the actor. “That’s really all there is to it.”

“What was it like growing up in LA?” he asked, finally paying attention to the pasta dish in front of him. He’d been talking so much, it was likely cold.

“Fine,” she said with a shrug. “I wasn’t part of the scene since my parents were middle-class, but it was exciting. There was always something to do.”

“What did you like to do?”

“Go to art galleries.” She said it like it was the obvious answer. “Mostly, I’d go see shows from up and comers, unexpected artists. Those are my favorite. People who think outside of what’s popular at the time.” It was that edge that had helped drive Montage into popularity with the rich and famous now, that and the influence of getting her hands on those Fae Wards.

He took a sip of his wine. It was his second glass. He wasn't driving, since he’d had his car service pick her up and that’s how they’d get home, but she preferred sober Henry to tipsy Henry any day. “Are you still friends with people you knew from high school or college?”

It seemed like he had Googled “questions to ask on dates.” Everything he was asking was so impersonal. “Not really. Zita is one of my best friends. I met her right before Montage’s reveal. I don’t have a lot of time for other friends.” Zita Kristo was the artist whose apartment she’d borrowed. Juliet had told her that she just didn’t want Henry or anyone to know where she lived, and since Zita was out of the country at the moment and was thankful to Juliet for getting her work discovered, she hadn’t minded one bit that Juliet wanted to borrow her apartment. She’d given her a key and said she could use it any time, even stay there if she wanted to. It made deceiving Henry that much easier since she could hardly take him to the house she shared with Rome. Most people knew by now that Rome had bought Fae Ward’s old house, and that’s how he’d met her and connected Juliet with Fae.

“What about actors and actresses?” Henry asked. “Do you find yourself spending much time with any of them?”

Juliet shook her head. “I work a lot right now. I need to do everything I can to make sure that Montage is a success. Perhaps in the future, I’ll have more time to relax and spend my free time doing something other than working, but at the moment, there is no free time. If I have a moment, it needs to be used to advance my business.”

“And yet, here you are,” he said with the sort of grin that told her he thought he was something special that she’d taken time away from work to be there with him. She could argue that this was the most important work she had to do, but she couldn’t admit that to him. Instead, she gave him a coy smile and looked down at the table, noticing there was more cleavage showing when she had her arms folded like this than she was comfortable showing.

Henry had noticed, too. His eyes crept lower and lower. Juliet took a deep breath. She couldn’t let that bother her, not if she was going to carry out her plan. She needed to fool him into thinking that she was here because she couldn’t stay away, that Henry Caron was so compellingly interesting to her that despite her work and all of the other things she could be doing with her time, she had to be there with him.

With that impish grin still on his face, he reached across the table and rolled his fingertips along the skin of her arm, lingering on her shoulder. Every fiber of her being wanted to recoil, to jerk away from him, and to find his shin with the point of her Jimmy Choo beneath the table. She didn’t, though. Rome’s acting lessons were paying off. She actually managed to lean into his touch, to close her eyes and pretend she liked it.

The waiter came over at that moment to see if they needed anything else. Henry pulled his hand away, and Juliet wished she could somehow slip the man the largest tip of his life. Hastily, Henry assured him they were fine, and he was ready for the check. She still had quite a bit of food on her plate, but she wasn’t about to argue. Leaving would at least get them on their way, even if she was pretty sure Henry would expect a kiss at the end of the evening--at the very least. He wouldn’t get any more than that. Not tonight, anyway.

As the young man hurried away to fetch the check, Juliet asked, “How are your films coming along? Are you still planning to invest so much money in those awful films just to ruin Rome Verona?”

Henry took a deep breath and rolled his eyes as he blew it out. “I don’t know what to do, if I’m honest. I refuse to give the company back to his father, even if he paid me double what I paid for it. I wish I could just forget the ten movie contract, maybe make it five.” He shook his head as if the very thought of the situation gave him a headache. “I don’t know.”

Juliet tried to look sympathetic. “It must be awful to finally own your own movie studio and then have it ruined by that moron.” She shook her head. “I can’t imagine how wonderful it must be to own a studio. I think… someday… I’d like to produce movies. I doubt I’ll ever be able to afford my own company, certainly not one the likes of yours. But it would be nice to make a movie or two. Assuming I could cast whomever I wanted to. I mean, the fact that you have to cast him…. That’s terrible.”

She’d poured it on a little too thick. So much of her plan was dumped into that one bout of verbal diarrhea, she wasn’t sure how he would react. She was certain he wouldn’t figure out her end game, but in the future, she’d have to be more careful about how much she said all at once.

“Well,” Henry began, leaning back in his chair, his arms folded as he considered all that she’d said, “I didn’t have to cast him. I chose to do that from the beginning. Granted, we have a contract now. I could release him from it, but that’s what he wants.”

“Then don’t do that!” she said, reaching for her drink. It seemed ridiculous that she was ordering him not to do the very thing she most wanted him to do, but he had to think she hated Rome as much as he did.

“No, no I won’t. But… I do wish there was something I could do to get out from under that portion of the contract.” He was thoughtful for a moment before he shrugged and then added, “It was a costly acquisition, that’s true, but probably not as expensive as you might be thinking. If you keep selling those Wards, I bet you’ll be able to afford your own production company before you know it. Not that I want to compete with you!” He chuckled, and reached across the table, placing his hand on top of hers. Juliet chuckled along with him, focusing her eyes on a spot on the wall over his head, not on his face. Certainly not on his hand.

The waiter brought the check, and Henry paid it quickly. Then, he pulled out his phone, likely calling for the car. “Well, dear, what else shall we do with our evening? It isn’t that late.”

Pursing her lips together, Juliet groaned. “I’m sorry, Henry, but I have so much work to do. I’m afraid I should head home.”

“Home? Already? If I’d have known that, I would’ve ordered dessert.”

“I know,” she said, still pouting. “But I will see you again soon. Besides, we’ll get to spend the ride back to my apartment together. Unless, of course, you were planning to make me walk.” She gave him her best flirty grin and watched his face turn red.

“No, I definitely will not do that,” he assured her. “The car is here. Come on, darling. If all we have left tonight is the ride home, I’ll be sure my driver takes his time.”

With her teeth ground together behind her faux smile, Juliet took his hand, praying he didn’t get too fresh with her on the first real date. She’d hate to have to ruin everything so soon with a swift knee to his family jewels, but at the moment, she wasn’t sure how she’d even stomach letting him kiss her. She certainly wasn’t going to be able to handle anything more.

Henry’s driver was waiting for them. He held the door open, and Juliet slid into the backseat first, Henry behind her. She slid most of the way over to the door, and he took up a position directly next to her so that his knee was bumped up against hers. She tugged at the hem of her dress, wishing it was longer but kept the smile on her face.

As the car pulled into traffic, Henry wrapped his arm around her shoulders, his other hand trailing down the bare flesh of her leg, making slow, easy paces over and over again.

His face was so close to hers, she could smell the wine on his breath. His cologne was French and strong, tinged with a bit of perspiration. He was sweating now, probably anxious to see if she’d be open to getting to know him better.

Juliet put her hand on top of his, stopping him from his roaming. “Thanks for dinner, Henry.” she said, smiling up at him. “I’d never eaten there before. It was divine.”

“You’re quite welcome.” His teeth caught the passing street lights through the window, and for a moment she thought of Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf. “When can we do it again?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to check my schedule. Soon, I hope.”

He took that as confirmation that she had enjoyed herself and was starting to like him. Henry tipped his head down, and Juliet steeled herself, knowing what was to come next. She closed her eyes and braced herself as his warm, sour mouth pressed against hers. When he urged her to open, she declined, making a soft moan and turning her head away so that he lifted his. “I like to take things slow, Henry. As you can imagine, there are many men who wish to date me at the moment. I have to be careful. I know that you are a good, kind man, but I can’t rush into relationships at this time in my career. I hope you can understand.”

“I do understand,” he said, his expression a cross between disappointment and empathy. “I’m not looking for a relationship right now, though, Juliet.”

He was implying they wouldn’t have to be in a relationship in order to get physical. She met his gaze. “I’m not sure what sort of girls you’re used to dating, Henry, but I assure you, I am not the sort of woman who rushes into things. I need a man to prove himself to me. You do understand?”

He nodded, but the vacant look in his eyes implied he didn’t actually understand what she was saying. He just knew he wasn’t getting any that night.

Settling back against the seat, Henry kept his arm around her, but he was done making advances for the night. She hoped she hadn’t pushed too hard. If he thought he’d never get her to give in to him, he might give up and lose interest. She couldn’t have that either.

As the car pulled up in front of Zita’s apartment building, Henry seemed to get over his hurt feelings at least a bit. Perhaps it was the possibility of a goodnight kiss that had him springing to life. “I’ll walk you up,” he said.

“Thank you.” Her voice was so sugary sweet, she hardly recognized it.

He took her hand and helped her out of the car. Juliet punched the code she’d been given into the door and waved at the doorman, who was aware of the situation. He waved back. They took the elevator up to Zita’s floor. By now, Henry was on the prowl again, his arm around her, his breath on her neck. She smiled, trying not to be too disparaging.

Outside of Zita’s door, Juliet had the key in her hand. “Well, thanks again,” she said, looking at him through her long eyelashes, hoping to be coy but also alluring.

“Thank you, Juliet. I hope to see you again. Soon.”

“Absolutely.” She lifted her head then, bracing herself, knowing she’d have to kiss him if she wanted any chance of continuing to reel him in.

Henry placed his hands on her waist and bent down, his eyes closed. Juliet lifted slightly, and this time, when his lips pressed hers, she allowed the tip of his tongue to graze hers, putting herself mentally somewhere else as his mouth continued its assault for far longer than she was comfortable with.

After she’d had more than she could tolerate, Juliet took a step backward. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

He nodded. “Bye, Juliet.”

“Goodbye.” She entered the apartment, not looking back. Once she was inside, she quickly locked the door, and headed to the bathroom in search of some mouthwash. This was definitely going to be the most difficult thing she’d ever done in her whole life, including faking her own death. She just had to remind herself, if she were able to pull it off, it would all be worth it in the end.