I can't help but laugh some more. Is this guy for real? I'm not laughing because I think I can't do it—I know I can. But why would I want to? "You've got to be kidding. Get Ethan Kane to fall in love with me? He's a playboy. He doesn't fall in love with anyone. And who are you anyways—some scorned ex-lover?"
"Pardon my lack of an introduction. I should've introduced myself," he says, extending his hand. "I'm Simon Conners. Ethan and I used to be business partners—but that's another lifetime… and a long story." He looks out the window of the limo, and across the city. He seems to be lost in memory.
"Look, corporate espionage isn't really my thing. You're better off finding someone else. If you were an abused lover looking for justice in an unhappy marriage, I could help. But this? No thanks. I'll pass." I reach for the door handle, but Simon stops me. He places his hand on mine and shakes his head. "Oh come on, how hard can it be darling?" he asks, his eyes glare at me as if this were a dare. I'm a competitive person—I'll admit that—and I'm not one to back down from a challenge, but this is ridiculous.
"Why would I want to get Ethan Kane to fall in love with me?" I ask. It's a legitimate question. Sure, he's hot, but guys that good looking have an ego to match. And why would I want to jump back into porn? I have a lot more power and prestige with what I'm doing now. I don't need it. Sure, porn is exciting. If you're a strong, hot woman who knows what she wants, it's great. It's empowering, even. The power. The fans. That's good. Sure, I've seen my fair share of high-octane drama—relationship scandals, jealousy, you name it—and sure, sometimes you end up sleeping with some hot men… and women—but at the end of the day, many women can't hack it. In fact, I've seen a lot fail. It's a lot of maintenance. Hair, nails, waxing, makeup, daily workouts, tanning, calorie counting—you get the picture; these are the things that take up your time and attention every day. And when you're doing this in front of a camera—extreme close ups and all—well, all of those things are even more important.
And sometimes—although it's rare—filming porn can be downright embarrassing for some of the entertainers. Like the one time I watched as another woman was scheduled to give a quick blow job. I never eat right before filming scenes. That's just my personal rule. Eating is a rookie mistake. But there she was, gorging on pizza without a single regard to the consequences. So, the director brings her in front of the camera and as soon as the guy jams his cock down her throat, she throws up all over him—and the set—and we all watch as she runs to the bathroom as fast as she can in stilettos. The director had to call me in to cover, and let me tell you—I was happy to do it. No one can deep throat a cock like I can. I won an award for that scene.
Simon clears his throat and starts talking again. He can tell I'm lost in thought. "Today, Ethan Kane announced a new technology that is going to revolutionize the porn industry—Illicit Escape," he says, bringing me back to the present.
I shrug my shoulders. "Good for him. I mean, that's where porn's going—if companies aren't embracing technology, they're losing out. What else is new?"
"Listen, darling. I need you bring me the plans for the Illicit Escape technology, and you'll do that by getting back into porn, and trapping Ethan by getting him to fall in love with you."
Where does this guy get off giving me commands like that? "First off, I don't fucking take anyone's commands. Second, your plans sound good in theory, but I've already said no," I reply firmly. "How many ways can I say it? No means no."
Simon looks exasperated but undeterred. "I wouldn't come to that conclusion if I were you. I'll pay you—a su
m that will make you—"
I cut him off. "I'm making enough money without this gig," I say. "Hire some developers, bring in the best augmented reality and virtual reality platforms that money can buy, and make it yourself—if you've got as much money as you say you do."
"I'm not interested in doing any of that, and there's more," Simon continues, indifferent to my recommendations. "I'll also give you a file."
"What kind of file?"
"There's a man by the name of Robert," he says. "Perhaps that name rings a bell? He could be told where to find you at any time… any place."
The name causes me to freeze. I wonder if it's the same Robert I'm thinking of… It has to be.
"Are you threatening me?"
"It's not a threat darling," he says. "It's the truth."
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" I nearly shout. Now he's taken this too far, threatening my livelihood. I have one hand in my purse, my fingers resting on a cold, hard can of mace. I carry it for emergencies and I consider taking it out and spraying it into those beady eyes of his.
He senses what I'm about to do and says, "I wouldn't do that if I were you. Be smart and do the right thing. Be the predator and not the prey. You can walk away from this with a lot of money. Believe me, it'll make your current wealth pale in comparison. Or… and I hate to think about this path darling… but if you don't make the right choice, you'll walk away the wounded gazelle with her throat in the lion's mouth."
Shit. How did I end up in this spot? Just when I thought my life was gaining the kind of positive momentum I've always wanted for myself, this asshole comes along. I told you that I'd tell you about my past hun, and I promise we'll get to that, but I will say right now that the name Robert sends a chill up my spine. It's taken a lot of work to move beyond my past—and I'm stronger for it, but when Simon sits here and tells me point blank that he can tell Robert where to find me… well, let's just say I'm in no mood to see that happen.
I consider what he's asking for a moment.
"Fine," I say. "I'll do it. But this will cost you."
Ethan
“Am I interrupting?” I ask walking into the casting studio.
“Not at all, sir,” Joel the casting director replies back to me.
It’s been three days since the announcement of the Illicit Escape in Times Square. And wouldn't you know it, within minutes of the fucking announcement our website traffic began to pick up.
But it wasn’t just guys looking to jerk off.
No, these were women.
They began to submit their profiles. Head shots. Body shots.