Ryan cleared his throat nervously and then acknowledged my secret gesture. “By all means.” He motioned with his hand for me to continue.

I looked back at Jonathan pretending to fondly remember my tall tale.

“It was just at the point when Grant admitted to Giles that he was a thief and an accidental murderer when Ryan and I had our first heated film debate.” I smiled at Ryan. I could clearly see in the way he narrowed his eyes at me that he was dying to know where I was going with this.

“Ryan was of the opinion that Grant’s revelation would be deemed as the ultimate betrayal to his brother and that in the end brother would turn on brother. But I disagreed. There was just something in the way Giles was so meticulous in his personal habits as a child that I just knew that the two brothers would unite in the end.

“By the way, Mr. Christensen, I do believe you still owe me a bottle of wine for losing that bet!” I teased.

“I believe I owe you an entire vineyard by now, Sweetheart.” I felt Ryan’s hand slide onto mine.

“You must be very intuitive to have guessed the outcome. Bravo!” Jonathan complimented, pausing to take another sip of his bourbon. “So tell me, what does your intuition tell you about Slipknot? Ryan told me you’ve been running lines with him so I assume you’ve read the script in its entirety?”

I took a deep breath. “Yes sir… many times,” I whispered.

“Well then? What does your intuition tell you?”

“It has action and suspense along with a healthy dose of romance. Isn’t that a film trifecta?” I stated the obvious.

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Jonathan shifted in his seat. “Do you feel the story is Oscar worthy?” he asked, eagerly awaiting my reply.

“She isn’t qualified to answer that question, John,” Aaron callously interrupted.

“He is right. I can’t answer that,” I admitted adamantly.

Jonathan raised a hand to stop us both. “My question has nothing to do with qualifications,” he dismissed. “I want to know your gut feeling.”

“John! Really! We know it’s going to be phenomenal!” David looked around at everyone, laughing confidently. “Why wouldn’t it get an Oscar nomination. I mean…”

“Now David, let the lady speak!” Jonathan ordered. “Taryn? Please, go on.”

“Honestly? For best picture?” I hesitated and took a big gulp of wine from my glass. I could feel Aaron mentally yelling at me to shut up and David appeared ready to vault over the table to cap my mouth, but I was asked a direct question.

I thought about all the research I did on the Oscars when I wondered what kind of role Ryan could play to garner a Best Actor in a Leading Role nod and recalled that all best pictures seemed to have one thing in common.

“I don’t think so, sir. Will the film gross millions? Absolutely - especially with a strong lead actor like Ryan. And with your brilliance and vision it will definitely be a hit. But I think the script as it stands is missing that epic overtone that is required of best picture awards. The story is compelling, but the main character is a mystery solver – not a hero.”

Aaron tossed his fork onto his plate, noting his disapproval. I held my eyes closed for a few seconds and internally bashed myself for opening up my big lipstick-covered mouth. Maybe arm-candy, dumb bimbo would have been a safer approach after all?

Jonathan leaned over and spoke directly to Ryan. “Where did you say you found this amazing woman again?”

“On the East Coast.” Ryan chuckled. “Why? You planning to steal her from me?”

“Perhaps, if you’re not careful! I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to have honest conversation with someone!” Jonathan smiled and patted my hand. “That’s a quality that this business is seriously lacking.”

His warm eyes glinted at me. “Relax, my dear. I had the same exact feelings about the script. I’ve already discussed some re-writes.” Jonathan continued, chuckling to himself. “Now onto the business at hand. Let’s discuss making a film.”

I slid back into my chair while my nerves twisted into knots. The urge to get on a plane and run for home was overwhelming.

Once the limo driver returned us to the private garage entrance to our hotel, Ryan and I practically ran from the elevator to our room. He pressed me into the door and kissed me passionately, shutting the rest of the crazy world out behind us.

Just as Ryan had forewarned, he almost tore my dress off, struggling impatiently with the zipper. We aggressively removed each other’s clothing, undressing right there in the entryway of our suite like some sex-starved, horny teenagers. Our bodies joined together, testing out the sturdiness of the living room furniture, the coffee table, and even the polished mahogany dining table before twining into one on the freshly made canopy bed.




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