Pirate's Gold (15 page)

“These are still a little rough,” Maren warned, clearing a space on the desk and laying the drawings faceup on the glass surface. “What I've decided to do is use the same principal characters in each video for the Mirage album, just as you suggested. But the interesting twist will be that each song will be set in a different time period. For the first cut, ‘Yesterday's Heart,' I've started with the Depression. With each successive song, I've moved forward by fifteen to twenty years. The final cut will end in a futuristic world.”

Kyle frowned as he sifted through the large sketches. His thick brows drew downward in concentration as he stared at the images. When he didn't comment on the drawings, Maren was forced to continue the one-sided conversation.

“I hope you approve of this idea, because I've already hired the dancers and a couple of bit-part actors for the action sequences on the first three cuts. The costumes are being designed, and the only problem so far is that the actress who agreed to do all five songs broke her leg while roller-skating in Venice last week.”

Kyle raised his thoughtful eyes to meet hers. “Have you been able to find a replacement?”

Maren nodded, “I think so. I'm still waiting to hear from her agent. I doubt if it will be a problem.” Maren waited anxiously as Kyle returned his gaze to the sketches. She was unable to decipher the dark frown on Kyle's features. “Well,” she prodded, more than a little exasperated that he couldn't even make a comment. “What do you think?'

“They look fine to me,” he conceded.

“Just fine?” She couldn't hide the frustration in her voice. “Those storyboards represent nearly two solid weeks of blood, sweat and tears.”

His gaze hardened. “I expected the best from you, and I'm not disappointed. What more can I say? I'm not very good at visualizing the finished product until I see it on film. As a matter of fact, this is the first time I've every seen the artwork for a video. Someone else usually handles it.” He pointed a long finger at the top sketch. “These drawings don't mean a hell of a lot to me until I can actually hear the music and watch the action. That's why I hired you and why I want to purchase Festival.” He read the slightly rebuffed expression on her elegant features. “What did you expect from me? I'm not the kind of person who hands out effusive compliments for a job well done, at least until it's finished.”

“I just thought you might show a little more enthusiasm,” Maren replied with a widening grin.

“Look, Maren, I hired you because you're the artist.” He slapped his palm on the first drawing. “If you tell me that this action sequence will work, then I'll believe you.” He leaned over the desk, both arms supporting his weight as he looked up at her. “Now, tell me, do you foresee any problems with production?”

Maren shook her head, and the light from a lowering sun caught in the coppery strands. “I don't think so. J. D. Price and the rest of Mirage have approved, the location sites have been selected, the choreographer has worked up two of the dance sequences…” She raised her shoulders elegantly. “Barring a strike from the musicians' union, we're right on schedule.”

“
If
you can sign the actress.”

“I don't think it's anything to worry about. The girl I want is relatively unknown, and she sees this as her chance at the big time. Ever since Cindy Rhodes—whom Sly Stallone reportedly first spotted on Toto's ‘Rosanna' video and later cast opposite John Travolta in
Staying Alive—
made the transition into movies, videos have become relatively easy to cast. The girl I want is Janie Krypton.” Maren hesitated, and Kyle shook his head, indicating that the actress's name meant nothing to him. “Janie's a big fan of Mirage, and I'm sure she'll work out well opposite J.D.”

“Good.” Kyle handed her back the sketches. “Then you think you can make the deadline?”

“I think so. The actual filming will take a couple of days for the first song, but the editing will require another week or so. Unless something unforeseen happens, we'll make the June first deadline.” She searched her briefcase once again. “In fact, I think I can even squeeze Joey Righteous's video of ‘Restless Feelin'' into production, if you'll be so good as to sign the contract.” Placing the storyboards neatly into the briefcase, she waited for Kyle to sign and return Joey's contract.

He hesitated. If Ryan Woods had been correct, the latest Mitzi Danner video had already been duplicated. How could he take the same chance with Joey Righteous? The Mirage album was already a very costly gamble.

“Don't you think you should concentrate on Mirage first?” he suggested.

She could feel the undercurrents of tension quietly charging the air. Something was wrong. “We can handle all of it, and I promised Joey that the video would be ready when the single was released. Unless my information is faulty, ‘Restless Feelin'' is scheduled about the time Joey takes off for his tour of Japan in June.”

“That's right. But it's not until the end of the month. Let's wait until the first Mirage video is finished,” he decided, handing her back the contract.

Maren had the uneasy suspicion that he wasn't telling her all of the story. Why did he want to wait? Was it because of the impending sale? “Is there something you're not telling me?” she asked, accepting the contract and leaving it on his desk. He didn't comment on the fact that she didn't put it back into her briefcase.

“Such as?”

“Why you're hedging on the Righteous contract? That's not like you,” she charged.

“I suppose it isn't,” he agreed, “but I think it would be best for both parties if we don't get too involved with unfulfilled contracts until we've come to terms on the sale of Festival.”

“You mean that you're going to keep the unsigned contracts dangling like the proverbial carrot until I sign on the dotted line?”

“That's not what I meant.”

“But it's true,” she pointed out, her cheeks coloring with unwanted anger. “Are you just stringing me along, Kyle?”

“Why can't you trust me?” he asked, his temper flaring in his cold eyes.

“Because trust is a two-way street, and I'm smart enough to notice when someone's deliberately baiting me.”

“You've got it all wrong.”

“Prove it, Kyle.” Maren picked up the contract and waved it angrily in his face.
“If I'm wrong, sign the contract.”
Her voice was shaking, and her eyes had darkened warningly.

‘I don't have to prove anything to you, Maren,” Kyle defended himself. His voice was low and menacing. “You know me well enough to realize that I'm as good as my word.”

“Are you saying that I'm not?” she asked, wondering at all the hidden innuendos in his words.

“No, but I'm asking you this much: If you were having any serious problems at Festival, you would tell me, wouldn't you?”

“Of course.”

“Even if it threatened the sale?” he pressed.

“Kyle, what are you getting at? If there's something bothering you about my business, just spit it out.”

“It's a purely hypothetical question,” he lied, thinking of the Mitzi Danner video. He wasn't convinced that it had really been duplicated, but Ryan Woods had promised to bring it to him. Until he had his facts straight, he couldn't accuse her.

“Then you had better think about signing the Righteous contract. Joey is counting on both of us. I told him that I would talk to you, and if you agreed, we'd schedule his video into production.”

“And if I said no?” Kyle asked, muscles rigid.

“I can't imagine why you would. But I told Joey that if I had problems getting the contract signed, I would call him and he could deal directly with you,” Maren explained.

“Now
that's
a threat. I've been on the receiving end of Joey's hostility more than once.”

“The choice is yours,” Maren pointed out.

“Either I sign, or you sic Joey on me?”

“It's your decision.”

Kyle smiled cynically. “I can handle Joey Righteous—I have before.”

“Why do you insist on being so insufferably stubborn?” she asked in utter confusion. “Is this the kind of response I can expect from you if and when I sell the business to Sterling Records?” Her indigo eyes reflected her concern.

“I'm just being cautious right now,” he reassured her. “We've had a few problems here, and I've got to get a handle on them before I take on any more.” He took the contract from her hands and flipped it in the air. It fluttered downward to land in the middle of his chaotic desk. “It's after five,” he noted, capturing her wrist with his hand. “Let's forget about business for the rest of the night.”

Pulling her wrist gently forward, he enticed her to lean against him. “I can think of other things I'd rather concentrate on,” he coaxed against her skin. His lips brushed lightly over hers, awakening her senses with their dewy promise. “Do you have any plans for tonight?” he asked, warm fingers lightly caressing her throat.

“I do now,” she sighed, forgetting about Joey Righteous, unsigned contracts and Festival Productions, and letting her fingers run through his thick sable-colored hair.

He smiled cryptically, and his gray eyes sparkled. “Let's go upstairs,” he suggested.

“Upstairs?”

“I have a place up there, a studio apartment of sorts, where I stay when I'm in town.”

Maren tilted her head, lifted an eyebrow and viewed him through a thick fringe of dark lashes. “Are you attempting to seduce me, Mr. Sterling?” she teased.

“More than that,” he promised with a rich laugh. “Oh, lady, what I intend to do to you.” His smile was infectiously wicked as he swung his coat over his shoulder, picked up her briefcase in one hand and pulled on her wrist.

The apartment was located on the uppermost floor of the building. It was warmly decorated in tones of burgundy, navy and ecru with modern furniture clustered in small groupings near the windows overlooking the city.

“You call this a bachelor apartment?” Maren asked dubiously. It was true that all the living was concentrated in one large room, but it hardly qualified as the cramped quarters usually associated with a bachelor's apartment.

“I used the term loosely,” he conceded.

“I guess. I think you could house three families in here.”

He had released her hand, set down her briefcase and tossed his coat over the back of a plush chair. When he turned back to face her, his eyes drove deeply into hers, and she experienced a chill of excitement racing through her blood.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, taking both of her hands in his.

“Starved…”

“I ordered out…something very sophisticated and romantic,” he whispered huskily.

A small smile, showing just the hint of a dimple and the flash of even white teeth spread across her pouty lips. “So you expected to entice me up here,” she surmised.

“Hoped,” he corrected. “I hoped to show you where I live when I'm in L.A.” He crossed the room, walking past a heavy sectional sofa in muted shades of blue and gray. “Come here…”

She followed him to the tall windows on the far wall. From the apartment's vantage point high above the surrounding buildings, one had a panoramic view of the surrounding community of Hollywood. “I bet this is breathtaking at night,” Maren commented, watching the flow of heavy traffic moving toward the freeways.

“If you stay long enough, you can see for yourself.” He disappeared into an alcove, which Maren decided was the kitchen. Within a few minutes, he reentered the room and placed a large carton on the table.

“Pizza?” she asked, as he opened the box.

“Warm pizza and cold beer,” he stated.

“This is your idea of ‘something very sophisticated and romantic'?” she inquired, laughter dancing in her soft blue eyes. “Why was I expecting Veal Oscar and chilled champagne?”

“I don't know,” he replied, motioning for her to take a seat at the small table, “because I wasn't talking about the meal; I was referring to the company.”

Maren's gaze locked with Kyle's, and she smiled under the warmth of his compliment. “If you're trying to charm me into signing the sales contract,” she said, “you're certainly on the right track.'

“This has nothing to do with your business or mine. This evening is just between you and me.” He poured a glass of beer and handed it to her. “Is that all right with you?”

“Fine,” she admitted, taking a sip of the cold liquid. “Just fine.”

It was dusk when they had finished eating and had cleared the small table. The conversation had been light and carefree, and Maren had relaxed enough to kick off her shoes and feel the weave of the thick carpet through her hose.

Kyle opened one of the windows, and the sounds of the city reached upward to them. Muted voices, the rumble of car engines and an occasional shout or blast of music from a passing car filtered into the apartment.