Made for You (Cole 2)

Jack stood in the doorway and smiled at me and my heart rate accelerated at the sight of him. After I’d had my fill of taking him in, I watched as Jack did the same to me. I’d heard the phrase undress you with his eyes a thousand times before, but I never fully understood it until I watched Jack’s eyes take me in. As was usual for Jack, he made no effort to hide his indulgence, which excited me even more.

“You look amazing. I’m torn between wanting to show you off and making you wear my jacket all night.”

I smiled and rolled my eyes at him, but I secretly loved his possessive compliment.

“Come here.”

I looked at his face and knew what he wanted. “Jack,” I warned, “you’ll mess up my dress and give me just-fucked hair.”

Jack raised his eyebrows, amused at my comment, a devilish cocky smirk on his face. “Babe, we’re going to the AVN Awards. Just-fucked hair is a good thing.”

I laughed at his comment, but made no movement toward him.

“You going to come here, or do I need to come get you?” Jack’s voice was low and a bit menacing. But I knew how he worked. He didn’t threaten. If I didn’t give in, he would most certainly come and get what he wanted.

Jack watched as I deliberated my next move in my head. I saw the amusement in his eyes. He was a lion who had his prey cornered and was thinking about playing with it for a while before he went in for the kill.

“Jack!” I warned. “I don’t want to wrinkle my dress.”

“I’ll take it off.” Jack took one step closer to me.

“But we’ll be late.”

“I’ll be quick.” Another step closer to me.

“I’ll be all flushed. You know how I get afterwards.”

“You look sexy as hell afterwards.” One long stride and he was in my personal space.

As promised, my dress wasn’t wrinkled when Jack helped me slip it back on twenty minutes later.

***

Being late had its advantages too, because it meant less time to walk the red carpet and get our picture snapped, something I wasn’t entirely comfortable doing. But Jack held me tight, never letting me leave his side as photographers yelled for him to turn this way and that way for pictures. Some yelled questions, asking my name, which Jack ignored like a master. A few particularly obnoxious ones yelled, “Where is Jenna tonight?” and I felt Jack’s grip on my hip tighten each time her name was mentioned.

Inside, the large auditorium was set up with round banquet tables, each with almost two dozen seats. I wasn’t surprised to find Jenna at our table, but it didn’t make me want to scratch her eyes out any less when she kissed Jack on the cheek and whispered something in his ear. Jack introduced me to a few unfamiliar faces around the table, most of whom it was easy to tell were the “talent.” But I wasn’t forced to participate in small talk because the lights dimmed only a few minutes after we were seated.

Over the course of the night, Cole Productions won more than a handful of awards and I was pretty sure they walked away with more statues than most of the other studios combined. Jack never went up to accept an award, even when it would have been appropriate. I noticed that almost all of the other producers found their way to the stage, and inevitably took a turn in front of the microphone, even when the category was for best cinematography. But not Jack, he didn’t edge his way into the limelight of the people who worked for him. He simply stayed in the background and supported them. It made me even more proud to be with him because of the way he handled himself, rather than for the number of awards his company received.

At the end of awards, there was literally a line of people waiting to talk to Jack. I stood dutifully at his side, watching him uncomfortably receive hugs and kisses from beautiful actresses who were spilling out of their dresses. After one particularly large breasted young girl who looked barely old enough to buy a ticket to an R rated movie, no less star in an adult film, rubbed herself on him while thanking him for putting her in a film that she had won an award for, I excused myself to go to the ladies room. I wasn’t mad or upset, I just needed a few minutes away from it all. Jack reluctantly agreed to release my hand so I could go the ladies room, but I managed to convince him that I really did need to use the bathroom and that everything was fine.

I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised to find Jenna in the bathroom when I stepped out of the stall. She seemed to like to follow me and get a few cheap shots in when we were all alone.

“Sydney, so nice to see you again. I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to stop in and visit our Jack.” Jenna’s plastered fake smile couldn’t even begin to conceal her obvious intent.

I walked to the mirror next to where Jenna stood, not about to let her cut me down, and worked on reapplying my lipstick. “I wouldn’t really consider it a visit to Jack, since I live there now. It would be coming home.” I smiled back at the gawking woman. Saccharine had nothing on my smile. My instinct was right, she hadn’t known that I had moved in with Jack. I wasn’t sure if it pissed me off that Jack hadn’t told her or I was happy that he didn’t share his personal business with her.

“Well, whatever.” Jenna failed at her attempt to seem disinterested at the news I had just shared. “Just remember—” she smiled at me as she positioned herself behind me, looking at me in the mirror as she spoke “—I’m always here if he needs me when you’re gone.” And with that she walked out of the bathroom. Oddly enough, her thin veiled threat didn’t bother me. I actually found it desperate and pathetic.

***

I was glad that Jack didn’t want to go to any of the after-parties. He told me that he wasn’t wasting any more of my short break by socializing with business associates, but I had a sneaking suspicion that Jack didn’t want to expose me to the type of activities that went on at the after parties. I had overheard quite a few of the women discussing the events of last year’s parties and it definitely wasn’t something I wanted to witness firsthand. But whatever the reason, we were back home at a decent hour and I was glad I had gone to support Jack, but also grateful that it was over.

I had mentioned to Jack that his tuxedo smelled like perfume that wasn’t mine, which seemed to have caused him to not only change as soon as we got in, but to shower as well. I had changed into a tiny slip nightie while Jack showered and was looking at the movies in the cabinet in the living room when Jack walked out with a towel wrapped around his waist.