Page 10 of Jason
“This isn’t reality television, Uncle Graham,” Jason had said, a little defensively.“Are you saying you don’t think I am capable of delivering quality?”
“I didn’t say that,” Uncle Graham had said patiently.“I’m saying that what you do has to be in line with our brand, that’s all.And to me, that would mean a program that is capable of winning awards.Art, as it were.”
Award-winning art?That was the litmus test?In any given season, dozens of scripts might get tapped by a studio.From those, maybe a third would be made into pilots, and of those,maybeas many as two would be ordered to series.Sometimes none.It was damn hard to get picked up, and Jason had done it.Not to mention, creativity didn’t flow into neat little packages of award-winning art or trash TV.There were so many things to consider, like the networks and platforms that would take his project and air it.There were so many moving parts, so many things that had to fall in line for this to happen, and the last thing Jason needed was a new bar to hurdle.
“What Uncle Graham is saying is that if it’s a bust, we’re taking our name and money from the project.That’s all.”This had come from Jason’s younger brother Brock.Brock must have noticed the withering look Jason gave him because he’d smiled and said, “Hey, I totally believe in you, Jase.”
“Gee, thanks, Brock.”
“We’ll need to have the Blackthorne logo on everything you do,” Brock had added.
“Like what?”Jason had asked suspiciously.
“I don’t know…opening and closing credits?Stationary, payroll, that sort of thing.”Jason must have been looking at him like he’d lost his mind because Brock said, “I don’t know what all.You tell me.”
The whole meeting had pricked at Jason.It wasn’t as if he was going to go out and make a reality show, or push something to air that was under-written, overproduced, or poorly acted.It’s like he told Mallory that night in his office when they were watching the dailies of the final episode of the first season.“This is exactly what I tried to explain to my family.You start with the vision.You see the characters, you see the narrative arc, right?And you build from there.You can’t say at the onset it’s going to look exactly like this,” he’d said, gesturing at the screen.“This is a work in progress and it slowly builds to what it is.We made that happen.”
“I totally get it,” Mallory had said.She’d sounded almost dreamy.She’d looked pretty damn dreamy.But then again, they’d had a lot of wine.
Yeah,thatnight.Jason thought about it again, for what had to be the millionth time since it had happened.He’d had a buzz, and he could remember wondering what else Mallory got, and how fucking amazing she looked in that red dress she was wearing, or how her eyes were so blue through her dark-rimmed glasses, and how she always looked half prosecutor, half vixen.She was always adjusting those glasses to take notes.And she was always taking notes.Jason had never known anyone as organized as Mallory Price.
“You do?”he’d asked her that night, like he didn’t believe her.“You really get it?”
Mallory had looked at him with surprise, then had held his gaze a long moment.A tiny hint of a smile had tipped up one corner of her mouth.“Yes, Jason, I do.Ireallydo.”
He didn’t know how or why she’d ended up straddling him, but he remembered the way her blue eyes had slid down to his mouth, and how fast he was hard.He remembered the way her breast felt to the palm of his hand.How dense, yet light.He remembered that feeling like a bomb had gone off in him.And he’d been ready to put her on the floor, right there in his office, as someone on the dailies droned on about finding the body on a warehouse floor in a pool of red blood, Jason could feel the red blood in his body, red with desire, spreading through him with the quickness of light.
He had kissed her neck, had felt the flutter of her pulse beneath his lips, and her heat radiate through his hand and up his arm.
Jason had played that night over and over in his mind so many times, alternating between lustful thoughts and remorse, hoping he had not done anything to take advantage of a very late night after a very long day.But sometimes, he looked at Mallory and he justwantedher.He always felt so connected to her in a strange way—his disorganization didn’t seem to faze her.Her instincts very often matched his.And she was so incredibly desirable.There was a constant air of anticipation when they were in the same room, and that night, it had all come together, and he’d been desperate with want.
Jason hadn’t intended it to happen—now he was sounding like Darien in his own head—but he truly hadn’t, and that it had happened had surprised him as much as it had surprised her.He could remember having the idea that he ought to drop his hands and move her off his lap, but he’d been invigorated by the scent of vanilla and roses, and his body had hardened, his erection pressing against her thigh.He was too enthralled by what was happening, and he had let his thoughts take flight, imagining them making love in some sultry bedroom lighting, a scene for the ages.He supposed that’s why he’d lifted her up and put her on the conference table.
“She was killed with this knife.Looks like she might have been stabbed a dozen or more times in the neck and face.”
It had been the dialogue from the dailies, still playing.Who cares?Jason had thought, but Mallory had all but gasped in his mouth and had pulled away.She looked at the little screen and then back at Jason.“In the neck andface?That seems a bit much.I think we should edit that.”And her lips curved into a wonderfully Cheshire little smile of pleasure, and she’d slipped away from him.
And that was that.
They’d never mentioned it again.Specifically, Mallory had not.Jason had waited for her to say something, if not that night, then the day after.And the day after that.But she’d never said a word.She’d acted like it hadn’t happened, and therefore, so had he.Like he’d imagined the whole thing.
But Jason thought about it.Real or imagined, he thought about it a lot.He was hyper-aware of Mallory every time she was near.It was as if there was a taut string tethering them to each other.
Yeah, well, given what had happened with Darien and that girl from Calabasas, Jason definitely needed to put Mallory from his mind.
He picked up his jog again, and ran back to the estate to shower.When he was dressed, he answered some emails that had been sent overnight from L.A., then made his way to the kitchen.
He was whipping up a smoothie when his cousin Devlin sauntered in.He stopped when he saw Jason.“What are you doing here?”he asked.
“What do you mean?”Jason said, switching off the blender.“Please don’t tell me you don’t remember I was cheering you on in the race.”
“Of course I remember, idiot,” Devlin said with a playful slap to the back of Jason’s head.“But I thought you’d left.”
“A better question is, what are you doing here?”Jason asked.
“I just stopped by to pick up a couple of things and check in on Nana.”He picked up some mail from the counter and leafed through it.
“Have you heard from Aunt Claire?”Jason asked.
