By mid afternoon, Ian found himself catching up on reading the papers, the turn of events spurring the decision that putting off for two days a week keeping up with what was going on was a bad idea. Every newspaper he could get his hands on was filled with hyped up lurid details of Ian’s “wild” Saturday night, including some very surprising pictures of his kiss with Saxon Allen.
He shook his head. Most of that night he didn’t seem to recall clearly, if at all. The papers seem to have it all down; blurry shots of the kiss, sketchy details of the songs, even a rather clear shot of his pouring himself into the limo, but not one mention of his two companions.
Ian folded the newspaper and tossed it on the pile with the others. It wasn’t until then that he noticed the tiny little column in the lower right corner about Bambi Helton. He picked the paper back up and read.
She was found naked in her apartment by the cleaning lady, needle stuck in her thigh. Police assumed it was an overdose. Details furnished by co-workers saying she’d been “Depressed and desperate the past few weeks” lead them further to believe it was possibly deliberate and not accidental. The case would not be officially closed until the autopsy report came back, but speculation seemed to rule.
Ian scratched his head as he put the newspaper down. “I guess she wouldn’t be the first aging porn queen to take her own life, but suicide by heroin…in her thigh?” It didn’t make sense to him, but then doing everything else she had done to and with her body didn’t make sense to him either.
“Ian?” Blake appeared in the office doorway.
He didn’t look up, keeping his eyes focused on the tiny, lost article. “Blake, when Bambi Helton was here, did you think she was depressed and desperate?”
Blake jolted a little bit. “To be honest, I didn’t really get that impression, but then I was in shock that she was here to begin with.” He looked at Ian. “There was nothing you could do to help her, boss man.”
“I know that.” Ian looked up at his secretary. “But did you think she was depressed and upset?”
Blake walked over to the desk and looked at the small quote Ian pointed to. “My time with her was so limited, but that wasn’t the feeling I got from her.”
“Kind of excited, a little apprehensive, but energetic?”
He nodded his head. “Yeah, that’s probably right, especially when she left.” Blake added, “Look, Ian, who knows what goes on in people’s minds, especially in Hollywood. We’re all so busy we tend to forget that we’ve all become professional at presentation. It’s hard to remember that what we’re seeing is not necessarily what is actually there.”
Ian nodded his head. “And I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“That no one took note that you and Wella were with me Saturday night.”
Blake giggled. “Ian nobody notices the entourage. It comes in the job description. Don’t sweat it.”
“But you are human beings, too.”
Blake turned to go. “No we’re not.” He stopped at the door. “By the way, I have a little surprise for you.”
Saxon Allen stepped into the doorway. “Surprise!”
Ian happily stood, kissed and then took both her hands in his. “How did you manage to get all the way in the building and not get noticed, especially with all that’s been going on out there?”
“Oh, I’m good at giving the paparazzi the slip.”
Ian flipped open to the front page of the entertainment section and pointed to the huge picture of their reuniting kiss. “No you’re not.”
“I’m great at it. You’re the novice. That picture was your fault.” She said.
“Oh, I’m the guilty party.”
“Of course.” She looked closer at the picture. “Is my butt that big?”
“I’m not going there.” He motioned for her to have a seat.
“Good man.” She sat crossed her legs in classic style and put her snazzy shoulder bag in her lap. “So do we have a date?”
“Excuse me?” Ian sat back with surprise.
“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m taking about Ian Grayson Justyn.”
“Ooh, you must mean business. You used all three of my names.”
“That’s why you have three. Now, do I have you on my arm next weekend or do I have to run to the last minute man candy store? Remember you promised.”
“You are going to hold me to a drunken promise made ten years ago shortly before you puked cheap tequila all over yourself?”
“Hey, a promise remembered during a drunken stupor is one heck of a solid promise.”
Ian scowled.
Saxon scowled back. “What’s the problem, Ian? Are you ashamed to be seen with me in public?”
“Of course not. You ain’t bad on the eyes, an’ almost half classy, Bessie.” He mocked their upbringing, using one of the pet names he called her during their college friendship.
“Gooda you ta notice, Clem.” She crossed her arms. “I cannot believe you’re going to make me beg.”
“Saxon, you can have your pick of anyone in the world, the world! Why me?”
“Because…” Ian shot her a look. Saxon rolled her eyes and tried to explain. “Okay, it’s a big night, and I want to share it, finally, with some one I can just be myself with. Who’ll keep me from taking the whole gaudy thing too seriously.”
“You’re afraid you’ll barf on your designer gown on the way to the podium?”
“Probably, but I’m still in shock that I’m nominated. I keep thinking either it was a lean year, and it wasn’t--there are six…SIX…other actresses more deserving than I…”
“Or?”
“Or it’s one of those tacky career achievement things, and I’m dying of cancer and no one has the guts to tell me.”
“Okay, okay!” Ian waved his hands, pushed out his chair and motioned for her to come and sit in his lap.
Saxon hesitated a minute then reached her hand out to him. He smiled and gently pulled her on his lap, wrapping his arms around her and rocking her back and forth.
“My sweet self doubting Saxon.” He brushed the fluff of hair from his mouth so he could speak to her. “Yes, we all have to admit your nomination came as a surprise, but that just makes it sweeter. That little film was so refreshing and so wonderful it stands out amongst all the angst and gun fire and sweat…”
“But…”
“Shhh, I’m not finished.” He put his hand over her mouth, “And you young lady, were pitch perfect, not a wasted…eye lash.” Saxon snickered, mouth still covered by his hand. “You made that picture, you, your talent, your classic beauty. As Mamie Rae Tipton Shores would say, so stop peeing in the pool and enjoy the swim.”
Saxon took a deep breath and pushed his hand away. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” He said as she sat up. “Aren’t you glad we ran off yesterday and got married?”
“Well, you knocked me up. It’s the least you could do.” She playfully squeezed his chin and got up, smoothing her dress down. “So, you’re going with me?”
“Do you really want to have all those rumors fueled?”
“Do you really want me to have to call Judd ‘You may remember me as Hot Steel from my WWF days’ Dunning?” She put her hands flat on his desk. “Look, yeah yeah, a few rumors will fly. It’ll be good for your career.”
She pointed at the grin he was about to crack and warned. “Not that I’m boasting, but I’m really hot right now, and being seen at the Academy Awards with me, win or lose, is going to be very high profile. It can only help you, and HRT.”
“I hate using your spotlight in hopes of yanking a little bit of it for myself, besides I’d feel cheap and whorey.” He whined.
“Do I need to make you sit on my lap? It’s not going to compromise anyone’s ethics if we both know what we’re doing. Remember we are now part of the Hollywood elite. We’re supposed to be cheap and whorey. It’s in the job description”
“You’re sure?”
Saxon cocked her head at him. “Of course.” She plopped down in her chair. “I’d have brought you out here and shopped you around several years ago if I hadn’t been afraid that rabid howler monkey would have caught a sniff from down wind and rip me limb from limb.”
“You’re afraid of Clare?”
Saxon looked Ian in the eye. “Oh, hell yes.”
“That howler monkey made an appearance today.”
“You’re kidding?” She leaned in for all the juicy details.
“Right here in the office.”
“How was she?”
“Rabid.”
“And…”
Ian sat back confident. “She won’t be back.”
“I’ve heard that before.” She sneered.
“After the spectacle she made here today, if she dares to even sniff down or up wind, she’ll have a restraining order slapped on her so fast it’ll make her little head spin around.”
“Good for you.” Saxon looked back down at the picture in the newspaper still staring up at her. “Are you sure my butt’s not that big?”
“Guarantee.”
“You know it amazes me that they always think they got the hot shot, and nine times out of ten they’re flashing their bulbs at one thing when the really juicy story is on the other side of the room.”
It was Ian’s turn to lean in for the juicy details. “Do tell.”
“They were all so busy chronicling your hot tushy, when they could have been snapping pictures of Hot Steel being the filling in an sexual cookie Oreo made of my driver and one of the bartenders; me behind the wheel of the limo peeling rubber and yelling for him to get his legs out of the window.”
Ian shook his head. “Saxon, you need to stop falling in love with hot gorgeous men who love other hot gorgeous men.”
“I know and I have two ex-wives to prove it." She sighed, "But I keep doing it over and over and over. No wonder they’re my people…” She waved her hand in the air like Queen Elizabeth at a parade. “Now have I got a date or what?”
Ian acquiesced. “You’ve got a date.”
“There that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“Not for me. How ‘bout for you?”
“A-hole.”
Ian smiled. “Now tell me about this production company…”
Saxon cocked her head and put up her hands. “Ahhh…well Mr. Justyn, nothing’s official yet, but as soon as I find the right project.”
The wheels in Ian’s head started turning. “The right project.”
“It’s a natural step.”
“Of course.”
“I’m just looking to develop things that interest me for a change, something a little beyond romantic comedies and blonds in distress.”
“Hmmm, I think I might have something that might interest you.” Ian nibbled on a black flair pen.
“No offense, but I don’t do television.”
Ian smirked. “No offense, but I wasn’t offering you a job…as an actress. I was thinking executive producer.”
Ian could see the bells go off in her head. “I need a cheese steak.”
“You still eat cheese steaks?”
Saxon brushed her midriff. “I don’t work out every day for the guns, honey. I bust my behind to feed it with anything I want.”
“Cheese steak, it is.” Ian looked beyond her shoulders. “Blake!” He opened a drawer and handed her a script. “There’s this new writer named Jenson Michaels..."
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