KRIS ASHTON

Hollywood Hearts Ablaze (excerpt)

 

 

Tony Cantori walked in. According to his resume he was twenty-five. In person he looked even younger than that. He wore jeans and a tight-fitting white T-shirt. Gina especially noticed his arms, which had no doubt seen a lot of gym time.

 

The heavy door whispered shut behind him. As he approached her desk, he smiled a nervous smile and brilliant white teeth flashed out of his olive-skinned face. He tossed his dark hair off his forehead and accepted Gina’s handshake.

 

“Hello, Tony. Please sit down.”

 

“Uh, thanks, uh, Ms Hall,” he said, falling into the seat. Gina licked her lips. She wore the sort of lipstick that would never smudge. “So, you’re the guy Trabulus wants for the lead in Dark Flowers?” Trabulus was Dean Trabulus, who was attached to direct the picture.

 

Tony nodded vigorously, some hair flopping into his eyes. “That’s right. Dean said he knew he wanted me the moment he saw my showreel. I had a guest-starring role on a few episodes of CSI: Miami and I just jumped out at him. When I came to audition--”

 

Gina raised a hand to silence him. “Dean Trabulus doesn’t make the decisions around here. I do.”

 

Tony looked flummoxed. “But...he said I was perfect and that this meeting...”

 

Gina grinned. “...was just a formality? Tony, Dean Trabulus is not Steven Spielberg. He’s a good director, but he doesn’t have the final say. That’s the privilege of the executive producer, which happens to be me.”

 

Tony swallowed, his brown Mediterranean eyes large and fearful. Just how Gina liked them. “I’m sure you’re a wonderful actor,” she said. “But how much do you want this part?”

 

“I want it more than anything!” Tony said, sitting bolt upright. “This is my first feature film, it’s what I’ve dreamed of since I was--”

 

“No, Tony,” Gina said, getting up from her plush office chair. She walked around to him, her high heels silent on the thick carpet. She ran a finger down his smooth cheek and along the defined line of his jaw, then placed her hand on his chest, feeling the hard chasm where his pectorals met. “How much do you want this part?”

 

His eyes showed an exhilarated terror. “I want it very bad. As bad as you can imagine.”

 

“Show me, Tony. Show me how much you want to be the star of Dark Flowers.”

 

His eyes darted to the door. “Here?”

 

Gina squeezed his arm, her heart fluttering at its solid shape, and lifted him to his feet. “We won’t be disturbed. Grant knows better than to bother me during a casting session.” She led him to an enormous futon-style lounge that sat beneath a window with distant views of the coast. She stroked his chest and let her hands run over the hard ridges of his stomach. She continued on and discovered that, intimidated or not, Tony Cantori liked what he saw. He liked it a lot.

 

 

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