Page 2 of Dangerous Kiss
Biba loathed the idea of seeing him, not wanting to feel that sense of rage, betrayal, and injustice that her father kindled in her. Her mother…Biba had always felt that she was just an inconvenience to her mom, to their lives. She would never side with Biba over her father’s behavior.
Biba blew out her cheeks as she knocked at Stella’s trailer door and went in without waiting for a response. She felt the trailer moving and rolled her eyes. Stella must be in the bedroom with Damon.
Damon Tracy—or ‘Prick Tracy’ as he was called by the crew—was Stella’s latest paramour—not that Stella cared much for him. Biba hated Damon—he was as bland as a beige wall and as dumb as a bag of hammers, but he thought himself wildly appealing to the opposite sex—and had, on more than one occasion, flirted with Biba, his eyes roaming freely over her body. He had a habit of cornering her suggestively with seemingly innocent requests. Biba gave him short shrift, but that just seemed to encourage him.
Stella’s last boyfriend had been a sweetheart—Sasha, a businessman from Portland—and Stella had sent Biba to break up with him. Biba had been horrified and had burst into tears as Sasha took the news stoically, something she rarely did. Sasha had in turn comforted her, and they had remained good friends.
Damon? Biba would happily dump his ass for Stella, and knowing her boss, that day wasn’t far off.
The trailer stopped rocking now, and to Biba’s amusement, she heard Stella say, “Is that it? Jesus…”
Biba stifled a snort of laughter, but she didn’t hide her grin when Damon stomped out of the bedroom in his shorts, shooting her a glare as he pulled his jeans on and disappeared out the door. Stella appeared a moment later, seeing Biba’s grin. She shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt to make him think he needs to up his game.”
Biba grimaced. “Rather you than me.”
Stella chuckled darkly. “I don’t think there’s much mileage left in Damon and I. Besides, I’ve got my eye on a much bigger prize.”
“God, who now?”
Stella grinned at Biba’s sarcastic tone. “Our delectable director, of course. You must have noticed how damn sexy that man is. God, Italian, too… I bet he fucks like an animal.”
Biba turned her face away, not wanting Stella to see how utterly thrilling that thought was to her. “He’s still mourning his wife, Stella. You might want to tread a little carefully.”
Stella made a noise. “Please. This is the movie business. I bet he was screwing his leading ladies the second the wife was put in the ground.”
She had a point, but somehow, Biba didn’t think Cosimo DeLuca was like other men. She changed the subject. “Want to go over tomorrow’s lines?”
Stella shrugged. “Sure. Then you can help me with a plan to seduce Cosimo. That man isn’t leaving Washington without being fucked by me.”
Sex was the last thing on Cosimo’s mind. He went through the day’s filming with his DP, Channing, and his assistant director and co-producer, Lars, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything. This movie wasn’t his first choice to make, but at least he had close friends on the crew, friends that understood that his priority, ever since Grace’s death, was to try to find common ground with Nicco, their sixteen-year-old son.
Cosimo tapped his phone’s screen and raised it to his ear. “Hey, Mom.”
Olivia DeLuca’s voice was warm. “Cos, how lovely to hear from you. How’s filming?”
“First day. Always a strange one. We’re shooting out of sequence, so the actors and crew haven’t built up that chemistry yet. Same old, same old. How’s Nicco?”
“Well…he likes his school, so that’s something. After that trouble at Olympia High, I thought we would never get him settled. Just a shame we had to go private to find his niche.”
“I’d pay any amount for that, Mom, so please don’t worry.” He hesitated. “I don’t suppose he wants to speak to his dad today?”
Olivia sighed. “I’ll see, Cos, but don’t hold your breath.”
There was a long pause, and then Cosimo heard his son pick up the phone. “Yo.”
Cosimo, relieved, chuckled. “Yo back to you, too. How’s things?”
“Cool. School’s good.”
“Glad to hear it. What’s been going on?”
“Not much. Playing some football.”
Cosimo was surprised. “Really?”
Nicco gave a mirthless laugh. “Yeah, Dad. Surprise, surprise, your son’s good at something.”
Cosimo’s hands curled into fists. Here we go… “Nic, I’ve never thought you were bad at anything.”
