Shooting Star (Beautiful Chaos) by Arianne Richmonde Read Free Book Online Page B

light luminescent, flickering and changing hue by the second. Like me. Changeable. Mercurial. Running from one role to the next; the real ‘me’ always in question.
    “Yeah,” I said distractedly. “But Jake’s a determined type, stubborn—you can see it in his jaw, you know the kind? Daddy issues. Wants to prove himself.”
    Mindy laughed. “How d’you know that?”
    “Google.”
    “His daddy issues are common knowledge ?”
    “No, but I can read between the lines. Takes one to know one.”
    “Jake’s dad’s a producer, right? And his uncle won all those Oscars for Best Director and for that movie Angelina Jolie was in? What was it called? That was his last big hit?”
    “Daddy’s a powerful player in this town. Real asshole. Ruthless and tough. Bet he beat the shit out of Jake when he was a boy.”
    “You’ve done too many years of therapy, my dear. I’m sure Jake was just fine and had a golden, blessed childhood with all that cash floating around.”
    “No, he isn’t fine. I can read his eyes. He has a wild, feral look about him, like he could do anything, like he has a secret temper. Like he could go off the rails.”
    “Well if anyone can test him, it’ll be you.” She looked at me to gauge my expression and added seriously, “He’s fucked around a lot so be on your guard.” Mindy winked at me and I smiled wanly, feeling the emptiness at the pit of my stomach. Flirting and fooling around with guys was second nature. The truth was that every single make-out episode was a blank. I guessed it was more about control than pleasure. I’d save the love crap for a rainy day. Meanwhile, Jake could eat his heart out. How dare he think that he could resist me? Not only was I going to show him I could act, I’d have him right where I needed him:
    Under my thumb.

“F UCK YOU’RE TALENTED,” Leo said as he thumbed his way through my storyboards for Skye’s The Limit. “No, really, is amazing.”
    Leo was Ukrainian—hence the thick accent and absence of articles in his speech, although his vocabulary was pretty impressive. He’d become a close buddy of mine during the last six months and was going to be my AD—assistant director—for the shoot. He was younger than me—just twenty-two—and I’d found him fresh out of the London International Film School. I’d set up a competition for a ten-minute short and his was—amongst an ocean of talent—my favorite work. He’d done a sort of collage; half animated, half with actors—the subconscious mind and dreams of a man in turmoil. I loved Leo’s arty style and saw a great future for him so signed him up to work for me.
    He was looking at the storyboards for the car chase scene in the Badlands I was mapping out. “Is incredible how you plan ahead. Me? I just go with flow, you know? Make it up as I go along. They call me pantster in USA, like I’m driving by seat of pants.” He slapped me on the back, laughed and drained his glass. “Mind if I give myself top up?”
    “Feel free,” I said, watching his tall frame bound up from the sofa and swagger purposefully toward the drinks’ cabinet, the bangs of his thick dark hair obscuring his face. He was thick set, handsome and very muscular—his myriad tattoos making him look rough and tough—I noticed that women went crazy for him, partly because of his unnerving charm and brazen confidence.
    “So when’s girl arriving?” He filled up his glass with vodka and clunked in a few ice cubes.
    “Today,” I said.
    “Very sexy girl. Very hot,” he suggested meaningfully, with a vigorous nodding of the head. Leo and I had done our fare share of partying together. We made a good team—pretty wild when we got going. He had a penchant for curvy women, in particular.
    “I’m not going there, Leo,” I warned.
    “Why fuck not? Come with job, no? Like Parmesan on pasta or vodka with caviar. You can’t have one without other.”
    “Not this time. I need to concentrate. Besides, she’s too young.