Chapter One
Orlando
Through the Lenz
The crew bustles around, fixing this and that, rearranging furniture last minute. All I do, as I sit in this fancy ass chair, is wait for the woman I haven’t seen in years to come onto the set. I grew up with Friday Caracci. The beautiful, talented triple threat Friday is the woman everyone wants to be like, and everyone wants to fuck. I can’t say I blame them. She’s a rare jewel.
Friday and I never got together. Don’t get me wrong. The chemistry has always been there, but having grown up with someone as gifted, talented, and beautiful as her, anything more could have damaged our carefully constructed friendship.
She always called it the push/pull effect. I’d push and she would pull. She always wanted more, and hell if I didn’t want it too, but being that I didn’t want to lose her forever, I squashed it every chance I got. It wasn’t until I married that she gave up trying. Who could blame her? I denied her every chance I got, and to be honest with myself and everyone else, I broke her damn heart. It’s amazing how deep a love you can feel for someone you’ve never shared more than a hug, but I am, and always will be, in love with Friday.
So, as I wait for my actors to come out, I thumb the empty spot where my wedding ring used to sit. It feels odd for it to be gone, but at the same time, freeing. After twenty-five years of knowing Friday, I’m ready to take the plunge into being with her, and as soon as my divorce is final, I will make my move. I have known her since I was seven years old. We watched one another grow. We dreamt together, planned together. Hell, we used to do everything together, and I miss that. I miss her.
And when I finish producing and directing this film, and I’m a free man, I will figure out how I go from the friend zone to where she always wanted me.
“Actors on the set!” I holler.
I turn towards my production assistant as she hands me my clipboard, headphones, and motions for Friday and Monteo.
My eyes aren’t on Monteo, but on the gorgeous Friday, or as she is being called, Kaciara. She looks alluring as always, even with the deep, dark, smoky makeup covering most of her eyelids. Her brown hair is now highlighted a sinful blonde, and her calves in that skirt make my mouth water. Her brown eyes shine bright, and her plump lips are, as always, kissable. She carries her script in one hand and her cell phone in the other.
“Mr. Dupree.” She speaks in a soft voice.
I snort. If she wants to be professional, then so be it. “Kaciara Carmichael.”
I don’t like using this new name. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth, but if she wants to keep this professional, then I will.
“The script is… well, it is something,” she murmurs as she bites her lip and shuffles her feet.
She and the script are what drew me to this project. At the last minute, the other director and producer dropped out during the final installment. The first two movies are under wraps. The reason filming was scheduled all at once was to save on budget costs. They haven’t finished editing the first two, which I suspect is why I was offered a substantial amount to not only film and produce this one, but also edit all three flicks as well.
“Yes, but you and I both know this is all but porn, even though they haven’t labeled it as such.” I chuckle. “The script is good. Great acting is what will stand out. Are you prepared for this?” I ask.
“I am. Two down, one to go.” She shifts back and forth in the stilettos her team chose for her today.
I suspect her anxiety has everything to do with me watching her fuck, and nothing to do with the project at all.
Mateo looms next to us, his arms crossed. A smirk covers his face, and his cocky attitude shows in the way he stands. I’ll knock him down a peg or two later. My first job is to make Friday feel comfortable here on the set, with or without me.
I stand, wrap my hand around her elbow, and escort her
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley