One Night Stand

Green-Eyed Devil

"There's nothing more dangerous than absolute power placed in the hands of a woman."

***

André Felix Dufort looked into the mirror as he effortlessly buttoned the cufflinks of his Armani tuxedo. Today was a big day. It was the charity event of an orphanage c*m adoption centre he had inaugrated a few years ago and regularly contributed to.

He cast one last look at the one day old styled stubble, the ice blue eyes, the slick laid back hair and muscular body that stood out even in formal wear. Yes, he looked perfect.

"You're late again," a condescending voice accused him. André turned around to face his wife - Dianne Dufort. Elegant, dignified, every man's dream. Until you knew her as well as André did.

"I'm almost done, dear. Inform the chauffeur, will you?" He smiled forcibly and watched as his wife gave a curt nod and gracefully walked away, her silk dress swishing around her ankles.

Looking at her, he felt a wave of guilt stab him. He loved Dianne. He always had. Then why the hell did he end up having a one night stand with some random slut? She had even swiped away his phone!

Damn. If Dianne were to ever find out, their already fragile marriage would be done for.

***

Amber looked bewildered at the phone in her hands. Is this for real? Did I really spend the night with André? God, is this your way of being funny?

Everybody knew who André Dufort was. The French man who had entered Hollywood and taken the industry by storm. His first movie "101 Days of Misery", about the life of a struggling artist had been an instant hit. He had played the lead role and within days half of the women in US were swooning over his suave walk and smooth charming manner.

He was touted by the tabloids as the next DiCaprio or Depp. His rise to success was tremedous and rapid. Within 6 years he had carved a niché for himself as one of the most wanted men in Hollywood.

The only lament his fans had was the fact that he was married. André Dufort had come to America from Paris along with his childhood sweetheart and the two had married soon after.

Most would say Dianne was a lucky woman to have a man like André. Only Dianne knew the cost of being Mrs. Dufort.

André had built a clean image for himself over the years, abstaining from drugs, alcohol and had quit smoking as soon as fame had startes following him. He wasn't a ladies man by nature. The tabloids were full of praise for the hottest man in NYC who had eyes only for his wife.

"Until yesterday," Amber said aloud and then a smile crept on her face. Laughing, she began scrolling through the pictures on his phone.

With wife, with wife, with fellow co-actor, co-actor...what?!

She stopped short and stared incredulously at the last picture. It was a fuzzy picture of herself and André, taken at a jazzy night club. He had his arm around her shoulder and they were laughing and yelling something, looking clearly stoned.

He must've been very drunk to have ended up having a one night stand, Amber thought.

And then, inch by inch an idea crept into her mind.

What if I...? No, that's too selfish...but if I...

Grinning, she saved a copy of that picture in her phone as well and checking out of the hotel, headed in the direction of the bearest phone booth.

André Dufort sighed for the umpteenth time as his wife screamed at him to get ready.

It's a charity event for God's sake! I have to look my best! He screamed at her internally. Pulling on his shoes, he was about to step out when the landline began ringing.

Great timing, he thought as he picked it up, "Hello?"

"Can I speak to Mr. Dufort?" A vaguely familiar female voice asked.

"That's me," André answered.

"André! I was wondering if we could meet up somewhere," the woman said.

" May I know who you are?"

"You know me. Though I doubt you remember me. We spent last night together."

André cluctched at the table to prevent losing his balance.

"You...you, how did you get my number?" he asked stupidly. The shock was yet to wash away.

"You left your cellphone Mr. Dufort. I only want to return it."

"I'll send one of my men. You can give it to him," André said trying to sound assured. Keep calm. I can't believe she had the nerve to call! What if Dianne had picked up? The b***h!

"No, we need to meet face to face. There is something we need to talk about."

I have a reputaion to maintain. I can't be seen hanging around someone like you, André thought, "That would be improbable."

"Mr. Dufort, if you want your cellphone back, you shall have to meet my terms. The HHI Lodge, 7PM. I'll book a suite in your name so that we can meet in private. Good day."

The woman slammed down the receiver. André cursed and made his way to the car. He had an interview Fox studios tomorrow.

"What took you so long?" Dianne complained, "It's your event and you can't even be on time."

André didn't bother replying. He was busy thinking.

***

Amber crossed her legs and waited patiently for the scape goat to arrive.

He will come, she thought as the clock struck 7:30. He can’t afford not to.

A smile twitched at the corner of her mouth when she saw André Dufort arrive, swathed in a scarf and wearing black shades to prevent being recognized.

The perils of being a star, Amber smiled inwardly. This would be a very interesting meeting.

André Dufort took off his glasses. It had been difficult enough to come here without making Dianne suspicious and he’d had to cancel out on Fox Studios! Did this woman even know who she was playing with? Just a minute and he would be out with his cellphone. He wouldn't even have bothered if it hadn't been for all the important contacts stored on it. The waiter let him into a five star suite. He opened the door and stopped short.

She was sitting at the sofa wearing a black knee length outfit, her hair carefully curling downwards. A fur coat lay beside her as she tapped her foot impatiently.

This was the woman on the phone? This was the woman he had screwed last night? God forbid, she was beautiful. Her jade green eyes peered maliciously at him and yet he found them somehow beguiling. Her fingers, long and slender were clasped in her lap and he felt a shiver down his spine as he remembered her stroking him. He could clearly see she was setting up a trap and yet, he wanted to be trapped by this woman.

"André Dufort," he managed and extened a hand as way of greeting.

She didn't bother take it. "Amber White. I know you're a busy man Mr. Dufort. So let's get down to business, shall we?"

André nodded and took the seat oppisite her, a table seperating them. Amber uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. André found himself unconciously staring at them.

"Here's the cellphone you had left behind," she said offering him his phone.

"Thank you," André said, "You have been most kind. About what happened last night-"

"It's alright, Mr. Dufort," Amber interrupted him, "You know, I'm a struggling model. You certainly aren't the first man I slept with. I have met many like you. Men who get tired of their lives, who want a night of respite from their nagging wives."

Nagging wives? Is she kidding me? André thought. I love Dianne! You're going too far, girl.

"Miss White," he began, "I think you're mistaken. I'm not like them. I love my wife."

"That's what they all say," Amber smirked. "It's okay, Mr. Dufort. You can be honest with me." Amber placed a hand on his outstretched palm across the table. "One night stands happen. It's natural."

"You don't understand," André took a deep breath trying to hold on to his anger. What was this b***h implying? That he was one of the many sleazy men in the industry who exploited women and had affairs? He wasn't! He loved Dianne and this had been a complete mistake. He had been waaay too drunk. That was it.

"I'm a family man, Ms. White," he said calmly, "I love my wife. But more importantly, I have an image to maintain. I have never been involved in a scandal and I don't intend to start now. So I want you to be clear on the fact that we will never speak of this ever again."

"That, I'm afraid I can't do," Amber gave an apologetic smile.

"What?!" André slammed his fist on the table. This girl was infuriating! "What are you trying to say? Do you want to ruin me?"

"Of course not, Mr. Dufort," Amber seemed unfazed by his outburst. She seemed to be expecting it. "If you would care to go through the pictures on your cell, you would see what the media calls ’solid evidence'. If that picture of you and me were to ever be revealed, nothing you or I said would repair the damage to your name. I have a copy on my cell here. And it's quite clear so don't even bother trying to deny it."

Amber flashed the picture at him and watched with satisfaction as the demure and sophisticated Mr. Dufort battled for calm. He was itching to hit her, she knew.

"However, I am willing to keep shut for a price," Amber added mischievously.

"How much is that?" André asked in barely concealed anger. Women like you disgust me, Amber White.

"It's not a sum. I just want you to secure a role for me, even a small role will do, in your next movie," Amber smiled. "I'm struggling so I need all the help I can get."

So that was her intention. Power play. Manipulating men to rise in the industry.

He looked at her long and hard. She was a tough one, he'd give her that. She didn't seem the slightest bit fazed by his stare. Instead she looked assured and at ease.

André took a deep and said, “Ms. White, please do not be under the impression that your jade eyes will earn you a place easily. There are thousands of girls as pretty as or prettier than you who have tried to make it but can’t. The film industry is very unforgiving.”

“I know,” Amber said simply, “That’s why I need your help, Mr. Dufort.”

André shook his head in defeat. Amber White was a green-eyed devil, and she knew how to play her cards right. André sighed, "I accept."