Epic (Fierce) Read online

  Unfortunately, Griffin seemingly read my thoughts. He guided me over his body until I perched above him. His indisputable erection didn’t soften, which confused – and scared – me even more.

  Thankfully Roxy called out, “Cut,” and I was able to escape from the bed entirely.

  “That was hot,” Roxy praised. “Whatever you guys did there, keep doing it. That was exactly what I wanted to see.”

  As she reviewed what she had shot, Griffin slipped from the bed and checked his phone, touching base with Emma who sat nearby.

  I had completely forgotten she was there.

  I had actually forgotten everyone was there until Roxy ended the scene.

  But now that it was business as usual, Griffin ripped himself out of character and resumed the cold shoulder. It reminded me again how much of a fraud I was trying to sell sex to the masses.

  I didn’t have much time to feel sorry for myself. Amelie took me aside to freshen my makeup, and before she was done Roxy informed everyone that she had changed her mind. She decided to film an actual kiss to see which one worked better for the video.

  My heart sank. I remembered the kiss from the night before, which had sent both Griffin and me running for the hills. I really didn’t want a repeat of it. But Roxy explained that there was an intimacy with a kiss that trumped anything overtly sexual. She wanted to layer that into the video.

  And she wanted to film several options for this kiss, just to be sure she got the right shot.

  Joy.

  The first shot was on the balcony. She wanted that first, tentative kiss that would jumpstart the seduction. Like the night before, the embrace would start as a dance. She wanted to film two specific shots: one where I initiated the kiss with Griffin, and one with his initiating the kiss with me. She queued up a highly suggestive song by Paula Cole to set the mood. For each shot, we had to grind against each other and touch and grab and tease each other until it ended in a passionate, open-mouthed kiss.

  My senses were in overload as we stalked each other on that patio, coming together in a dance that should suggest to the audience that we couldn’t wait to get our hands on each other. Griffin was selling his part a little too well. There was an animal hunger in his body as he clutched me close. I could easily believe in all the tales of his prowess as a lover because a tiny, forbidden part of me questioned, for however briefly, what it would feel like to experience his lust for real.

  So I curled one hand around his neck and pulled him toward me for a kiss. I unleashed the inner vixen as I played with his lips. I felt a shudder run through his body right before he grasped me tighter, enveloping me in those strong arms so that I couldn’t run away, even though that was my first instinct the minute I felt his hard-on against my leg.

  For the second kiss, his hands cupped my face and he toyed with my lips before his mouth closed over mine, his tongue darting inside only momentarily, which I knew had to sizzle onscreen.

  I tried to keep my focus on the mechanics on what we were doing, so I could stuff any emotional reaction way back in its long-forgotten closet in the dark corners of my psyche.

  By the time dawn broke, I had kissed Griffin so many times it was no longer remarkable. Our last scenes to shoot, my character passing the potential lover in the street, with enough confidence to slip him my number, were impossibly easy by that point. I still didn’t believe Griffin’s cheeky grin as he pocketed the number and chased after me in the street, but it was a great ending for a female sex-positive video. After all the trauma I went through to get through the experience, I was happy with Roxy’s results. Griffin decided he was going to head to her studio with her so he could be a part of the editing stages, but I was ready to put this part of my New York trip to rest. I made it through this far, that was miracle enough.

  And now that Griffin was back to his regular self, I knew my presence wasn’t necessarily welcome. He was back on his phone, conferring with Emma and Roxy, and basically ignoring me completely after a night of forced intimacy that had clearly been as difficult for him to pull off as it had been for me.

  I couldn’t mistake his erection for actual sexual desire for me in particular. It was a response to skin against skin. I knew he’d find a much more suitable partner to relieve his tension.

  Possibly Roxy. Maybe even Emma.

  I couldn’t worry about it. Now that work was out of the way, I could focus on something way more important: my father’s spotty and elusive family history.

  I ducked out of the penthouse without saying goodbye Griffin at all.

  CHAPTER NINE

  New York City, NY

  July 2, 2012

  Corey volunteered to go with me to the group home in Newark, New Jersey that following Monday. His show was dark that day, and he wanted to help me piece together the scattered pieces to my own personal puzzle. We had utilized the Internet as much as we dared, but entertainment (read: gossip) news kept sidelining us.

  PING captured Griffin on the arm of his East Coast steady as they arrived for an event that Sunday. He snuggled her close and looked much happier than he had looked during our entire shooting schedule for the video. Though it shouldn’t have mattered, I found myself sullen and bitchy as a result. No one could make me feel quite as sub-par as Griffin Slade. If I thought that might be better after a manufactured hookup courtesy of a music video, I was sorely mistaken.

  Sadly, that same event was attended by Eddie and Shelby. Eddie kept the fragile, petite beauty close under his wing as they posed for photographers. Though she smiled in every photo, I could tell how bitterly unhappy she was. I couldn’t help but worry how she was managing her stress and powerlessness under her oppressive father’s and Eddie’s control. But unless I was ready to literally strip bare for the media there was nothing to be done about it.

  It actually sparked the first ever fight between Corey and me. He jokingly suggested that a sex tape may make the video I had just filmed even juicier, drawing me even more attention, which caused me to fly right off the handle. Corey was stunned silent by my tirade, where I raged that I didn’t need cheap tricks to sell my albums. If my voice wasn’t the cornerstone for my success, then I didn’t want to be successful at all. I burst into tears and slammed into the guest room, where I stayed for a good two hours. I was over my temper tantrum after the first fifteen minutes. After that I was too embarrassed to face my very dear friend. He hadn’t deserved my unloading on him.

  When I finally poked my head through the door, I waved an ivory pillowcase. Since he was more confused than offended by my display, he was able to laugh off the whole incident. He chalked it up to PMS and I let him. It seemed like as good an excuse as any.

  To make it up to him, I enlisted Iris’s help to organize a private dinner cruise.

  It was the least I could do, considering all he had done for me. I owed all my successes to Corey, and it was about time I showed him my undying gratitude.

  I was especially grateful after our arduous afternoon at the group home which yielded no results. According to their records, no juvenile named Joe, Joseph or Joey Hemphill had ever been processed through their system. They had records for Maya, which they had already provided for Mr. Vass. I came prepared with photos of both my parents, but the administrators had no recollection of their time there.

  Worse, we still hadn’t been able to locate my father’s birth certificate. My last resort was flying back to Iowa and trying to convince Marianne to provide these documents for me, but I knew I couldn’t face Shane again. God only knew how he’d try to wreck my life in the future.

  “You know nothing about your grandparents on your dad’s side?” Corey asked as we entered the Holland Tunnel, heading back to Manhattan.

  I shook my head. “To be honest, I can’t recall much of anything before my dad died. Mr. Vass is looking into the Social Security death records to see if he can pinpoint anyone with my dad’s exact date of death in or around Oswen. We located the news reports of his death, listed a hunting ac
cident, but that was through the major newspaper of Des Moines. It all listed his name as Joseph Hemphill.”

  “Did you ask your birth mom?”

  I shook my head. “Not yet. It was enough of a hassle moving her out of the hovel she was living in. With finishing the album, shooting the video and all the store openings, I just haven’t had time to question her about it.”

  “What was your Aunt Verna’s name? Was it Hemphill?”

  I shook my head. “But she had married. Widowed by the time I met her, and died without any kids. Dad was her closest living relative.”

  “Sounds like there were a lot of secrets in your family,” he commented. Then, with a grin, “Like everyone else, I guess.”

  I giggled. He had a point. I didn’t know why it was so important to me to fill in my sketchy history. If family wanted either my mother or my father, they wouldn’t have ended up in a group home. If Maya was any indication, I wasn’t likely to unearth a happy ending out of this tangled mess.

  Maybe ignorance really was bliss.

  I brushed it off as best I could as we headed back up to Corey’s loft to change for the evening. Iris sent me a vague message to “dress to impress,” so I got the sneaking suspicion she had organized a much bigger dinner party than I was expecting.

  Little did I know.

  Iris had worked her magic, inviting just about every VIP she could think of. She invited Roxy and everyone involved with the video – including Griffin – and Angus and his filmmaking crew as well. Rounding out her client list was Jacob Corey, Jasper’s trusted assistant, and most of Corey’s dance troupe from his Broadway production.

  I shook my head as I approached her. “What did you do?”

  “What?” she asked innocently. “I thought it’d be a nice gesture to socialize with your colleagues.”

  I spied Griffin standing by the railing with yet another celebutante to keep him company. “I had hoped it’d be a little smaller.”

  “Girl, playing small is a sin when you’re larger than life. Embrace a life bigger than your dreams.”

  One did not argue with Iris Kimble.

  I was halfway expecting to see Eddie and Shelby board the luxury yacht, but thanks to the Internet I already knew they had flown back to Tennessee to celebrate the 4th of July with her patriotic family. She was headlining an outdoor concert, her first major event since the Fierce tour.

  The ink wasn’t even dry on her contract with Carrington Entertainment, but she was already being trotted out like the superstar he was wagering she would be.

  After what Jasper did with Vanni and Dreaming in Blue, I suspected Shelby would race to the top of the charts with his influence and money behind her.

  How long she’d last there before she dropped from the strain was anyone’s guess.

  Every time I thought about Shelby, I was racked with guilt. I had to figure out something to help her, even if my help was the last thing on earth she wanted. The next time she collapsed it could be the last. If that happened and I didn’t lift one finger to help her, I didn’t think I could live with myself.

  If I could just figure out how to save her without destroying Jace or myself in the process, I’d be golden.

  But I had no more time to figure that out than I did to investigate my fuzzy ancestry. Iris pulled me along from guest to guest to ensure I was introduced to everyone. She already knew most of the people from Corey’s show, as she was a huge fan of Broadway and fit seeing all the hit productions into her hectic schedule.

  I teased her that she’d never have a social life that way, but she shot back that her entire industry was social. A vacation for Iris meant turning off her phone for an hour so she could lounge in her jammies and eat ice cream from the container.

  She lived and breathed entertainment. She not only knew everyone there was to know, they knew her. I could tell how respected she was in her field by the way everyone greeted her, even those who had never met her before.

  One of the few who had never met her in person was Brant Rierden, quite possibly the most handsome man I had ever seen (next to my Jace, of course.) In fact, Brant was so pretty, I immediately assumed he played for Corey’s team. He was tall and athletic, with broad shoulders that tapered down to a thin waist. His eyes were the cerulean blue, and stood out against his tanned, perfectly sculpted face. He looked as though he had just stepped out of a black and white movie, and personified everything I could have ever imagined the word “debonair” to describe.

  Even more remarkable, he was the first person I had ever known to render Iris completely speechless. The minute he brought her hand to his lips, telling her how charming her accent was, she melted just like butter. His eyes twinkled when she blushed like a teenager, and I knew that this impossibly good looking man and star of Corey’s Broadway show had just fallen equally head over heels for the sunny blonde standing at my side.

  I bit back any amusement and excused myself politely. Instead I set out to find Corey, figuring I could count on my bestie to be my “safe” person in a crowd of virtual strangers.

  Actually I wanted him to buffer me from Griffin. The last thing I needed was more of his rejection.

  Love, though, was in the air. I found Corey standing at the bar next to Jacob. They talked close and animatedly, touching frequently as they stood close to hear each other over the crowd.

  Cupid had definitely struck. It made me miss my Jace even more. I grabbed a drink and headed out to the deck so I could watch the city sparkle to life against the darkening sky.

  It was such a strange life that I led. Here I was on a boat full of the rich, famous and influential, and I felt completely alone because Jace wasn’t with me. As I leaned on the rail, it dawned on me that he was my truest definition of success. Yes, I loved to sing. I really loved to be able to do it full time. But without Jace, something was missing. Without Jace at my side, I couldn’t be fully happy.

  I spent all this time looking for all the missing pieces of my past, but I knew he was the perfect piece to fit my future. Without him everything else was incomplete. I’d do anything to protect him and keep him happy. It was the only thing I really knew for sure.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” I heard a male voice with an Australian accent ask me from behind. I turned to see Griffin step up beside me at the railing.

  I wondered why he even cared. “I was thinking about Jace,” I answered honestly, figuring there was no point to lie.

  He nodded as he looked out over the city. He emptied his champagne flute. “I’m sorry if the weekend was tough on you because of that,” he offered.

  I shrugged. It wasn’t only because of that, but Griffin Slade did not warrant that kind of disclosure. “I’m sorry if it was difficult for you.”

  His eyes met mine. “Why would you think it would be?”

  Again I shrugged. “I know I’m not the kind of girl you are used to.”

  He turned to face me. “And what kind of girl am I used to?”

  “Not me,” is all I would say.

  He laughed. “You’re an enigma, Jordi. I can honestly say I’ve never met anyone like you. I honestly don’t know what to make of you.”

  My eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”

  “You’re a tough nut to crack. You have all this contrasts that I’m not sure who I’m dealing with on any given day.”

  “Ditto,” I mumbled as I turned back toward the water.

  “Then I guess we’re even,” he said as he leaned on the rail, mirroring my stance.

  We stood there like that silently for long minutes. I kept waiting for him to make some excuse to leave or check his phone or do any of the other things he’d done in the past to show me I wasn’t worth five minutes of his company.

  When I couldn’t take it anymore, I blurted, “Thank you for the new song, by the way.”

  He didn’t even look my direction. “You’re the only one who could have sung it,” he replied.

  “Well,” I stammered, “thank you anyway.”<
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  His eyes met mine. “You’re welcome.” With that he pushed away from the railing and walked off, no doubt to find his current arm candy.

  I stared after him for long minutes after he left. I felt even more lonely and bereft, though I couldn’t articulate why. With a defeated sigh, I turned from the railing and went to find the buffet.

  CHAPTER TEN

  New York City, NY

  July 4, 2012

  Fortunately for me, “Pieces of Me” was not some kind of sex anthem I’d have to pull out of my ass to sing. In fact, the song was eerily applicable to my current situation. I really was an orphan trying to piece together my past. The words bubbled up in me as if I had written them myself. By the time I hit the studio that Wednesday, I was fully prepared and completely professional. This was despite the fact that Griffin was back to being incommunicado and Angus and his crew were sitting in the control booth, watching our progress.

  I didn’t care. I was going to go in, pound out the song and be on a plane by the weekend, back to my life on the west coast. I’d make a brief pit stop in Vegas, to check on Maya and Diego, and then I’d be back in my home in the Hollywood Hills, wrapped in the arms of a man whose love and acceptance I didn’t have to question.

  As professional as I thought I was being, and as perfectly as I thought I nailed the first few takes, Griffin kept throwing out ideas that demanded yet another take. This was his song, and he had very definite ideas on how he wanted it to sound. Unfortunately for me, much of his songwriting process took place in the studio. I had experienced this on a smaller scale with Yael, the lead guitarist of Dreaming in Blue. But as a solo performer, the collaborative process usually began and ended with me.

  Well, me and the producers. But it didn’t take long to figure out that Griffin was far more finicky than Graham could have ever been.

  Worse, Angus also had his hands all over the creative process. He already knew where he wanted the song in the movie, so he had suggestions on the nuances of the song, the phrasing and tempo. So if Griffin wasn’t insisting on another take, it was Angus. Gone were the accolades on how great I was for the project. Now both of them were picking apart every single word I sang and how I had chosen to sing them. Initially this was a huge blow to my ego. I thought it sounded perfect on the first performance, but they had found my interpretation lacking. By the end of that first day I ended up divorcing myself from the material enough to do whatever it was they asked, thinking that would expedite the process.