For The Love Of You

Craig got out and fully took in the setting, already beginning to visualize the scenes and where they would take place. It was better than any description or photograph could capture. This was exactly the setting he wanted. What he needed to do now was meet the owner and set up the official working arrangement. Generally this was something that Paul handled, but this project was his dream movie. It was his first time at bat as writer, director and executive producer. He had a lot riding on this and knew that there were plenty who wished him well and an equal amount that couldn’t wait to see him fail.

“Anthony and Paul, come with me. You guys can wait here,” he said to the photographer and Paul’s assistant. He flipped a page on his clipboard. Jewel Fontaine. It sounded like the name of someone that would live in a house like this. He strode down the pathway that led to the palatial entrance. The front was framed by six white columns, three on each side of the double front door. It was two levels with a wraparound terrace on the second floor and paneled windows.

Craig led his small entourage up the three steps to the front door. He rang the bell and made a mental note to have a temporary door knocker installed for the film.

Moments later the door opened and a woman dressed in what appeared to be a nurse’s uniform stood in front of them.

“Can I help you?”

“Craig Lawson. Ms. Fontaine?”

“No. I’m... Ms. Fontaine is busy right now. It may be best if you come back.”

“No. I don’t think that would be best. I’d appreciate it if you could get Ms. Fontaine. Please let her know that Craig Lawson is here to talk with her about the film.”

The woman in white huffed and rolled her eyes. “If you go round back, I’ll ask Ms. Fontaine to meet you there.”

“Thank you,” Craig said, his tone softening to match the smile on his lips.

“I’ll get Ms. Fontaine,” she said, her tone decidedly changed.

Craig turned and got a quick I told you so look from Anthony. He ignored it.

The trio rounded the building and found themselves in a mini paradise.

“You did good, Paul,” Craig said, slapping him heartily on the back.

“Thanks, boss. Ron was the one that actually found it,” Paul said of his assistant.

Craig pressed his lips together and nodded. What he appreciated about his staff was that they never hesitated to spread their support and share the credit. He set the clipboard down on a circular white metal table that was shaded by a huge umbrella. There was a half cup of tea on the table and a newspaper that had fallen to the ground. He reached down, picked it up and placed it back on the table. He turned at the sound of a door opening behind him.

The woman didn’t simply walk through the door. She swept in like a character from a novel. Every nerve in Craig’s body vibrated. Like the filmmaker that he was, he cataloged every inch of her, from the riotous swirl of cinnamon curls that seemed to want to break free from the knot on the top of her head to the high cheeks, wide expressive honey-toned eyes, sleek arching brows and full pouty lips all set on a flawless canvas of nut brown. The loosely flowing sundress that bared her shoulder and reached her ankles did nothing to camouflage the curves beneath.

Jewel stopped in front of him. “Mr. Lawson?”

“Yes. And you must be Ms. Fontaine.” He extended his hand.

Jewel placed her hand in his, and Craig felt the heat of their contact race straight to his groin. He shifted his stance slightly and cleared his throat to give himself a moment to recover.

“Thanks for seeing me.”

“You didn’t give me much choice, Mr. Lawson.”

“You’re right. I realize you were expecting me—us—tomorrow, but I wanted to see the estate for myself and meet you as soon as possible. I hope we can talk for a few minutes, go over the details and work out the schedule.”

Jewel lifted her chin ever so slightly, a move that Craig had seen his sister use whenever she was ready to do battle. He reflexively clenched his jaw. Craig glanced over his shoulder and angled his body. “Ms. Fontaine, this is my business partner and a producer of the film, Anthony Maxwell.”

Anthony stepped in between the standoff and extended his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Fontaine. Your home is better than any pictures.”

She offered up a hint of a smile. “Thank you.” She turned her attention to Craig, and he felt her stare right in his center. “We need to talk, Mr. Lawson.”

His radar went on full alert, and every instinct told him that this was not going to go well. “Of course.”

Jewel stepped down off the back porch and walked toward the brook that ran behind the house. Craig fell in step next to her and wondered what that incredible scent was that floated around her.

“Mr. Lawson—” She stopped and turned to him, and he was hit in the chest again by the depth of her eyes. “I don’t know how to say this, but—” She paused, looked at the water and then at him. “I’m going to have to back out of this arrangement.”

He’d expected a discussion about more money, no Mondays or eating in the kitchen, or whatever other quirky thing homeowners wanted when they rented out their property, but not this.

Craig bent his head toward her in an almost combative move. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve changed my mind. This may be a great opportunity, but it will be too disruptive and... I can’t allow this.” She folded her arms beneath the swell of her breasts. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

Craig was totally thrown. It took him a minute to process what she was saying. Months of work would go down the drain; the time it would take to find a new location would cost thousands and set the production schedule back by any number of days, possibly weeks. As the scenario played in his head, his level of pissed off rose. He’d never been one to take no for an answer, and now wasn’t the time to get started.

“Listen—” He reached out to touch her, and the instant his fingertips touched her bare arm he knew it was a major mistake. What felt like electricity brushed across his skin. “I, uh, totally get it that having a film crew in your home is a pretty big imposition.” He gave her his best Oscar-winning smile, coated with Nawlins drawl. He held up his hands. “I promise you we will totally respect your home. Whatever rules you set down...that’s what it will be.”

He watched the pink tip of her tongue peek out and stroke her bottom lip. He swallowed.

“It’s much more complicated than that, Mr. Lawson,” she said softly, the hard stance that she’d taken earlier seeming to ease somewhat. “I deeply apologize for any inconvenience—”

“If it’s about money, we can work that out. It’s a big imposition, and you should be compensated accordingly.”

“What makes you think I need or want your money!” Her hands dropped to her sides, and her fingers curled into her palms.

The 360 in her tone and body was so sudden, Craig actually took a step back. “I wasn’t trying to imply that you did,” he said, keeping his voice low and even in the hope of rescuing this rapidly sinking ship. “I’d really like to talk this out. I’m sure we can do whatever it is that you need to be comfortable.”

Jewel slowly shook her head. Her lids fluttered rapidly, and her nostrils flared even as she turned her lips inward and tightened them.

Craig took a cautious step closer. There were two things he was really good at: finding movieworthy material and noting the warning signs in a woman’s face. This woman was on the verge of tears, and he was pretty sure that it had nothing to do with the film, at least not directly.

“I’m sorry,” she managed and stuck out her hand.

Craig’s gaze ran over her face, but she wouldn’t look directly at him. He took her hand and slowly let his fingers envelop hers. “Thank you, Ms. Fontaine. I’m sorry that things didn’t work out. If you change your mind, you have the number.”

She bobbed her head, and he released her hand, turned and headed back to where he’d left Anthony.

“Let’s go,” he snapped, storming past Anthony.

Anthony double-timed it to catch up. “Yo, what happened?”

Craig slid on his shades. “We’ll talk back at the hotel and Paul can start looking for a new job.”

* * *

By the time the crew returned—very subdued—to the hotel, Craig’s ire had diminished by a fraction. At least he’d stopped cussing and tossing death stares at his crew.

“Look,” Anthony said, pulling Craig off to the side once they’d entered the suite, “go easy. We’ve been in tighter situations. We have some alternate locations on tap. We’ll find the right venue and keep it moving. Every one of us has screwed up at some point,” he added with a knowing look.