With His Consent (For His Pleasure, Book 13) Read Free Page B

happened,” Greg replied. He put his hands on his hips. “You know why?”
    Bryson tossed the paper back onto the table. “No, but I’m sure you’re going to enlighten me.” He sat down across the table from Greg and leaned back, putting his hands behind his head, like he was settling in for a nice relaxing chat. Jesus, Scarlett thought, sinking slowly into the chair next to him and crossing her legs. If this was the way Bryson was going to smooth things over, they were in a lot of trouble.
    “Because you don’t matter,” Greg said. The vein pulsed more intensely in his forehead now, and his face was nearly purple.
    “I don’t matter?”
    “No, you don’t matter. Your opinion doesn’t matter. Your feelings don’t matter.
    You are nothing, you are nobody. In this town, my client here makes people hundreds and hundreds of millions of dollars,” Greg said, pointing at Dale, who continued to text and ignore the scene playing out in front of him.
    Bryson nodded, not seeming the least bit ruffled by what Greg was saying. “I get that.”
    “No, you don’t get it. If you got it, you wouldn’t have strutted in here like God’s Gift to Film—like you mattered. You should have crawled in here on your belly, like a fucking slug,” Greg shouted, pointing at the ground and turning his back on them.
    Hunter raised his eyebrows and cleared his throat. “So we’re obviously all pretty upset about what happened last night. It’s a major problem. It’s a problem we might not be able to get past, which is why we called this emergency meeting.”
    Kallie sat down and poured glasses of water for everyone.
    “Look, it was an unfortunate situation,” Bryson said. He looked at Dale as he said it, but Dale didn’t acknowledge him. “I made a mistake, and I found that out when Scarlett explained to me that Dale was in character last night.”
    Greg spun on him again. “What did he say? What did he just say?” Greg pointed at Bryson. “Did you just say he was in character? Dale Nolan is a fucking artist. He doesn’t play characters or do whatever you think he does. Dale Nolan is an enigma.
    He’s like Picasso, he’s like Mozart, he’s one of the greatest actors—he’s been called a young Brando, a James Dean. And you talk about him like he’s some acting class reject prancing around, needing your pity. Needing you to interfere with him. How dare you?”
    Bryon turned to Hunter and gave him a “Is this guy for real?” look.
    “Look, Bryson,” Hunter said, “Greg is concerned that you’re not understanding the hierarchy. He’s trying to explain that Dale is doing all of us a big favor by being in this film, taking on this part, and allowing himself to be handled by a first-time director.”
    Bryson opened his mouth to speak, and Scarlett sensed that whatever he was about to say wasn’t going to be good. She quickly reached under the table and squeezed his leg softly. He turned to her, and she gave him a look. Just relax. Play by their rules.
    Tone it down a little, and maybe, just maybe, this will blow over.
    Bryson sighed and Scarlett saw his shoulders relax slightly. “Of course I’m very grateful for Dale’s involvement,” Bryson said. “And I’m sorry I hit him. I saw him groping Scarlett, and I over – ”
    “Wait, what?” Hunter said.
    Kallie sat up straight in her chair. “Groping Scarlett?” Her eyes went to Scarlett.
    “What’s he talking about?”
    Scarlett felt her cheeks burning as everyone looked at her. She twisted her hands in her lap. “Um, it was just a misunderstanding.”
    “Of course it was,” Greg said, “because Dale Nolan does not grope women. And most certainly not someone like her.” He looked at Scarlett and shook his head, like the thought was ridiculous. “He could have any woman he wants, for God’s sake. Women throw themselves at him day and night. Why, just the other night Hayden Panettiere was calling him, begging him to come to her hotel room, wasn’t