One Night Stand

Let's Talk

"A woman always remembers."

***

"Cut!" Alexander Gonzales shouted. "That was a perfect take Amber."

Amber smiled at the plump, mid-50s director. Bagging this role was probably the best thing that had ever happened to her. It was her first time on the scene of a movie shoot and she was enjoying the constant activity around her. Gonzales was forever screaming, busboys kept running here and there, the cameras kept whirring and the light technicians and makeup artists rushed around from one actor to another. Bright lights created the illusion of day against a setting sun and cheap replicas abounded.

"You may leave now," a busboy told her. Amber nodded and was about to leave when suddenly all activity ceased and a hushed silence fell over the entire team. She nudged a technician nearby, "What's going on?"

"He has arrived!" she replied in an almost reverent whisper.

Amber watched, puzzled as a limousine pulled up before the tent and several attendants rushed to open it. André stepped out, looking every bit a woman's dream even in his rugged chinos and plain T-shirt.

What's with all these actors acting like they own the world, she scoffed inwardly and turned away to leave.

From the other end of the crowd, André's eyes followed her profile and wondered why she had turned away so abruptly.

***

André's shoot for the day was a relatively small one. It was over within three hours.

"I shall be leaving now, Alex," he said. He had known Alexander Gonzales a long time.

"Thanks for working hard," Gonzales smiled, "But you really brought a pearl, André. I'm thinking of casting Amber as a lead in my next film. Her looks are unconventional and she certainly has a quality...perhaps even a sadness in her eyes, don’t you think? She isn't your average blonde."

That she definitely isn't, André thought grimly.

"Her eyes are very expressive," Gonzales continued, "I haven't seen anything like her in quite a long time."

André had always considered Gonzales as a father-figure but right now his constant praise of Amber was getting on his nerves.

"I shall leave now," he inclined his head.

"Yeah," Gonzales nodded, "But really, André. Don't think that just because I'm approaching old age, I haven't noticed her curves. Are you sure you knew her only from a friend?"

André whirled around to stare at Gonzales only to realize from his winking that he was joking.

"Haha, don't worry. The world knows how much you are in love with Dianne," Gonzales punched him playfully.

As André walked back to his limo, only one thought plagued his mind.

"The world knows how much you are in love with Dianne"

...Am I?

***

André was in for a surprise when he went out and found Amber White waiting for him. Three hours?

"We need to talk," she said. Despite himself André found his eyes going to the way her dress hugged her slim waist and made it look curvier than it was. It covered her from neck to knee but left nothing to imagination.

"I thought we already had," he said.

"There's more," Amber said. André wanted to say no. But he found himself following her.

They ended up in a restaurant on Broadway.

"Mr. Dufort, when I told you any small role will do, I didn't mean just a ten minute cameo in a two hour movie," Amber said pointedly.

André Felix Dufort was feeling out of his depth. He had known many women, but none like Amber. And try as he might to focus on her words, he found his primal instincts arousing in him thoughts he wanted to forget. Flashes from that night, the feel of her...

"Mr. Dufort?" Amber waved her hand, "Are you even listening to me?"

"Yes, I am," André cleared his throat, "I did what was possible. You can't expect a nobody like you to suddenly make it to the top."

And instantly regretted what he said. He thought he saw a shade of hurt cross her face but she soon covered it with her trademark smirk.

"Is that so?" she said slowly and placed a hand over his on the table, "Do you realize how we look like to the world now?"

It took André a moment to realize what she was saying. He was sitting in a restaurant with a woman who was in no way related to him, holding her across the table. If the paparazzi ever clicked a picture of this, there were a million ways in which it could be interpreted.

He jerked his hand back, "Ms. White."

"Amber," she cooed, "Call me Amber."

"Ms. White," André said regardless, "I fail to understand what you want from me."

"Fame."

"I'm not the only actor whom you can use."

"But you're the only one I can blackmail, Mr. Dufort."

André sighed. This woman was driving him crazy.

"If I agree to secure you a good role, will you leave me alone?" he asked finally.

"Definitely," Amber said with conviction.

"Alright," André said rubbing his hands together. "Let's begin from your bio-data. Tell me about yourself, your hobbies, your talents, your lifestyle."

"Are you hitting on me, Mr. Dufort?" Amber laughed. André wanted to tell her to draw the line but stopped short as he heard her laugh.

It was the first time he heard her laugh and the pleasant ringing sound reminded him of the spring. Colourful, beautiful spring...and yet somehow it seemed tinged with pain and longing. It reminded him of a warm summer day but with dark clouds on the horizon.

"Okay," Amber leaned forward and fiddled with the spoon, "I'm a struggling model. I live in a corner of Cheapside."

"Cheapside?" André crinkled his nose, "Isn't that the wrong side of New York."

"Well, unless you agree to pay my rent, that's where I'm staying," Amber scowled.

"Alright alright, go on," André said, "But don't your parents send you any money?"

She seemed stunned by this question and it took her a moment to gather her answer, "Well...err -"

"Or did you run away from home to pursue your dream?" André asked playfully.

"Yeah, that," Amber admitted.

"Really?" André was surprised. Seems like we have a lot more in common than I thought.

"I ran away when I was 18...to pursue my dream so in a way I'm pretty much alone over here. That's why I can't let you go. You're the best opportunity I've had in a long time."

André had to laugh at her frank admission and it made him feel at ease. She leaned forward to retrieve the salt and for a second her top fell low, revealing the top of perfectly formed breasts.

In an instant broken images began to resurface in André's mind.

That night he had had a huge fight with Dianne. She was being irrational and unable to take her pretense anymore, he had stormed off, going to the first place that offered him anonymity - a club near Cheapside. One he wouldn’t have ever stepped in had he been sober. His face had been covered and nobody paid him and notice as he sat alone in a corner.

Amber had been sitting across the bar and the second he saw her, he wanted to do her.

She kept looking at him in this sensuous way even though all she could see were his eyes, could any man ever have said no?

It had wild, brief, and memorable. Amber was like a tiger in bed, satisfying all his needs. But most of all, it reminded him of what he and Dianne had once shared - the fire, the lust, the passion. It had been so long since he had felt the body of a woman. He and Dianne barely had a physical relationship.

But it was something he regretted...Didn't he?

"That's all about me," Amber said and André realized she had been talking for sometime.

"Y - yeah, that will do. I'll talk to some of my contacts," he said and keeping a few hundred dollar notes on the table said, "Please pay in my place. I have to go."

And André rushed out of the restaurant before his desire consumed him.

***

"You're late again," Dianne accused him.

"Sorry, love," André mumbled as he made his way into his room. Yes, he and Dianne had different bedrooms. In their 12 room mansion, Dianne had insisted on getting a separate room for herself. They were husband and wife who had different bedrooms.

"You keep saying that all the time. Sometimes I wonder if I even matter anymore," Dianne sulked and a tear slipped down her cheek, looking as fake and plastic as the rest of her carefully powdered face.

"I don't understand what I need to do to make you believe me," André said exasperated.

Dianne walked over to him in graceful steps, looking like a willow swaying gently in the breeze. Leaning gently over him, she said softly:

"Do you remember the night we had a fight and you stormed off in the middle of it? When you returned home the next afternoon looking all beat up and exhausted?"