18
“What happens if I take the role?”
Her teeth ground together, her jaw flexing as she stared at me. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Answer the question, sister.”
My entire body shook as I waited.
She gazed at me for what felt like minutes and finally replied, “There would be no reason for me to ever talk to you again.”
My sister. My blood. Someone I’d shared my entire life with was willing to give it all up over something this ridiculous.
In the past, I would have caved. I would have avoided the controversy and done exactly what she wanted because I always backed down to her.
She would never change.
I didn’t care what Thanksgiving was going to look like when we were sitting around my parents’ table or Christmas when we were cozied up in front of their fire-traditions we made happen every year.
I had to get to the point where I wouldn’t tolerate her behavior anymore even if that meant upsetting my parents, altering our family dynamic forever.
She looked at her nails, assessing them like she would ever allow a chip. “You know, all you’re doing is delaying how much work you need to finish before you go home. I have six videos you need to edit, the pool shots from yesterday still need retouching, and you need to take some photos of me using a new mascara I’m endorsing. The fact that you’re stalling makes me want to dock your pay. For real, Kendall, what the fuck?”
I’d reached the point.
I was done with this bullshit.
And I was done listening to it.
I pushed myself up from the couch. “No.”
Her eyes followed me around the coffee table. “No to what?”
“To everything.” I stood by the oversize chair, remembering how she’d sent it back last week because the fabric wasn’t white enough. “No to your attitude, to your insane demands. To you asking me to turn down the job offer.” I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans to stop them from trembling. “Just know that you did this, Daisy. Not me.”
I swore there was smoke leaving her mouth with every breath that she took.
“Your little tirade back there was to make me feel bad for you. To make me cower, like I always do when it comes to you. Well, no more. I’m done.”
Anger shot across her face. “You’re that fucking greedy for stardom?” She shook her head. “Wow. I thought I knew you better than that.”
“This has nothing to do with that, and we both know it.”
She relaxed into the couch, like she was Tony goddamn Soprano. “Oh, sister, don’t even think of dropping my name to help you gain popularity. You’re all alone out here now, and I promise I won’t do a thing to help you.”
“I don’t need your help.” I took several steps back. “In fact, that’s the last thing I need.”
I left my coffee for her to throw away and headed toward the front door.Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.
“You’re fired!” she yelled as I reached the kitchen. “And don’t expect to be paid for any of the half-assed work you’ve done this week. The last check you got from me is the only money you’ll ever see from my checkbook.”
I glanced over my shoulder, laughing loudly, making sure our eyes were locked when I said, “Trust me, I don’t need it.”
TEN
DOMINICK
T
here was absolutely no reason I needed to haul Kendall and her manager, Valerie, into my office to discuss the details of her contract. Everything I had to tell them could have taken place over the phone. But the thought of seeing that fucking body again-those lips puckered around the straw of an iced coffee, those beautiful hips and ass wrapped in a tight dress-was far too tempting.
At least with her manager here, I couldn’t swipe away the paperwork on my desk and fuck her on top of it. But it was all I’d been thinking about since the moment she had sat down.
Damn it, this was a tease.
I just wanted a whiff of her pussy.
A quick lick across her clit.
To feel her cunt clench around my cock.
Kendall Roy was worse than an addiction because this need, this fucking ache, couldn’t be cured. The two nights I’d had her wasn’t enough. And no matter where I tried to put my brain, it always went back to her.
Like now, as I visually fucked her in that navy dress.
I shook my head and glanced down at the contract, knowing it was time to get down to business.
“The requirements of this one are simple as far as reality television standards are concerned. You’re required to be present during set filming times, which could be up to fifty or sixty hours a week. The location will be determined by the studio forty-eight hours prior.” I pointed at the next section of paragraphs in case she wanted to follow along with her copy. “The studio will provide transportation to the locations, and they’re very specific about punctuality. There’s a clause that allows them to fine you if you’re over fifteen minutes late.”
“I’m punctual,” Kendall said, the embarrassment on her face coming in red and hot. “That was a one-time thing; it’s not my norm.”
“No judgment here.” There was also no reason for her to defend herself, but instead of telling her that, I said, “If the scene you’re shooting is sponsored by a brand-whether it’s clothing, beverages, sunglasses, whatever-you’re required to use or wear the products for the duration of filming. There will be times when the studio will provide you with social media materials about the show or sponsored products, and it’s mandatory you post that content within a certain period.”
“All very standard, as Dominick said,” Valerie added. “You’ll soon be hired for personal endorsements, and the same rules will apply.” She smiled at Kendall. “Do you have any concerns so far?”