Hush: Chapter 2
Title: Hush
Genre: 1950s Neo Noir
Rating: M
AN: Thanks to lovelylytton for beta-ing ^_^
Previous Chapter: Chapter 1
The sun was rising, just peaking over the soft blue horizon, its rays casting outwards and setting the sky into an orange fire which spread over the city. It was beautiful, almost heavenly, and it stole the slight night chill from the air. Most would find it serene, but there was something about mornings which threw Cairo into chaos: first there was the dreaded sense of disappointment which accompanied consciousness, that listlessness which came from the knowledge that he was still alive. Then came the bout of happiness, a fleeting, dangerous feeling which injected itself into his heart at the mere thought of those he loved and cared for the most; it was all that kept him going.
The prospect of seeing mornings made him think, they made him worry. Life, to him, was just a long journey into nothingness, sparsely populated with moments of sheer joy and relief. The only way to dispel his melancholy was to follow an important ritual: to watch those he loved, to know they were alive for the new day. It was not something which he practiced often; even he could recognise the slow creep into insanity he was making, but he couldn’t help himself. They were his family, if not by blood, then by spirit. They were his reason for being; watching them soothed his troubled mind.
There were three he followed, and watched and looked after. Three people he loved and dreamed and lived for.
Cairo’s car was parked discreetly behind a pick-up truck at the corner of a T-junction. It was a small suburban neighbourhood: white picket fences, square front yards and middle-class family housing. Each identical home would probably be equipped with a television set, a washing machine and a perfect family unit. But there was one house, one in particular, which held his attention. It had a red door and a tidy front yard with a colourful windmill spinning in the corner. The windows blazed golden, the sun kissing them with King Midas’ touch.
The mailbox at the front was labelled ‘Mr & Mrs Zuckerman’ and the little red flag was tilted up, indicating the mailman had already made his daily run. There was a glass bottle of milk on the doorstep, and a newspaper wrapped neatly on the welcome mat.
Cairo could tell there was warmth to this house. There was happiness. It was almost too perfect.
The door opened and a man with scruffy, greying hair and a striped bathrobe stepped out in maroon slippers. He yawned widely before bending down to pick up the newspaper and milk. Tucking the former under his arm, he turned and looked at the sun, taking in a refreshing breath of morning air.
“You’re letting in a draught, dear!” a lady’s voice called from inside the house. “You know how easily Serena can catch a cold!”
The man made to turn around and head inside, but a sound in the distance caught his attention. Instead of going back into the house he closed the door behind him, leaving it ajar, and watched as a vehicle hummed its way towards him with a small smile on his face.
Cairo had heard the sound as well. His grey eyes shifted immediately from the older man and fixed themselves eagerly onto the approaching cherry red Chevy Deluxe Bel Air at the bottom of the hill. He reclined into his seat, his large, stiff body visibly relaxing on sight of the driver. With a barely audible sigh a tiny patch of steam touched the his window, evaporating as quickly as it appeared.
Darien was coming home.
His dark, cloud-grey eyes watched like a hawk, following the Bel Air as it pulled up to the front gate. A tall, dark haired man, shoulders slumped slightly from weariness, stepped out of the vehicle, pulling out a brown leather physician’s bag with gold clasps as he went. The warmth of the sun illuminated his tired features, temporarily chasing away the paleness of his skin and leaving him tanned and healthy. He met the man on the doorstep and shook his hand.
“Morning, Mr Zuckerman.” His voice was deep and smooth, betraying none of the weariness his gait suggested. Cairo could hear him clearly in the silence of the early morning, the only other noise being the chirping and twittering of waking birds.
“How was your shift?”
Cairo listened intently for the answer, irrationally leaning just a fraction forward, his hands gripping the steering wheel.
“No busier than usual. These nights aren’t easy, I don’t think I’m as young as I used to be.” Darien offered to take the milk from the man but he was declined.
“Nonsense, if you’re not young, what on Earth do you call an old fogey like me?” The man gave Darien a reassuring pat on his back. “You’re just a little more worried than usual, and that’ll exhaust you more than anything. It’s a natural feeling for a man who’s about to become a dad.” The corners of his thin pleasant lips lifted into a kind smile. “Trust me, son, you may be the doctor, but I know a few things too. Don’t worry, everything’s going to be alright.”
Darien smiled, and the tiredness from his eyes seemed to vanish. “Did Mimi stop by?” he asked. “She said she would after her shift ended at the hospital.”
Mr Zuckerman gave a small chuckle, “Of course she did. Your sister came by about two hours after you left for work and did all sorts of checks with those medical things of hers.” He pushed the door open. “Everything’s fine,” he said. “Come on in. Have some breakfast and get some rest. You look beat.”
“Is she awake yet?” he asked as they made their way inside.
“She will be once she starts to smell the bacon.”
The door shut behind.
Cairo smiled and started his engine.
~*~
“Ace...” she was whimpering, her head thrown back, plastering her honey golden hair to her smooth back. “Baby.. I’m-”
“Shut up!” His face was scrunched tightly, sweat trickling down through his sandy-coloured hair to his temples as he concentrated on the building pressure within him. One hand was clutching the mahogany table so tightly his knuckles were white, while the other dug into her soft flesh, controlling their rhythm.
Mina bit down her plump bottom lip and did her best not to make a sound as he increased his pace, his breath and movements becoming frantic and rougher than before as he reached for his climax.
He came before she did and pulled out just as she was finishing, flopping himself into his office chair, exhausted, sweaty and satisfied.
Puffing out a long breath, Mina Zuckerman, known by most as Diana Love, leaned back further on the desk and rested on her elbows, flicking her hair lightly to move it from her face.
Ace watched her for a minute, his brown eyes dragging themselves over her soft curves, now moist with exertion. He reached up and slapped her thigh. “Climb off, doll face, you’re sweating all over my documents.”
She rolled her bright blue eyes and huffed in annoyance, obliging nonetheless. “You’re in a great mood this morning,” she commented, peeling herself away and walking to where her yellow sundress lay crumpled on the floor. “You still fighting?”
Ace grunted. “What’s it of your business?”
She shrugged a smooth, delicate shoulder. “I thought you’d like to talk about it. Sometimes that helps.”
He gave her a cynical laugh and grabbed onto her wrist, pulling her into his lap. “When I want your help, I’ll ask for it.” His hand travelled up her thigh, his thumb massaging the smooth skin down to her knee.
She leaned down, fluttering her eyelashes closed and kissed him. He kissed her back, tenderly, his hand snaking up to cup her cheeks, stroking her face lightly and moaning with pleasure. It sent her reeling. These were the moments she secretly loved with him, tender little ones that touched on the sweet person he was inside. Mina was no fool, she knew how much of a heel Ace could be, but there was something about him, especially when he was like this, that made him irresistible. “What’s wrong, baby? Tell me?” She asked quietly when they pulled apart.
He sighed, their breaths intermingling with each other. “My bitch of a wife still hasn’t come home, it’s been almost a week.”
It was not uncommon for Ace not to see his wife for days at a time, everyone knew that they fought like cats and dogs, that she spent nights in friends’ houses and apartments all over the city, drunk or high with other movie stars, business men, politicians, mobsters. She was America’s new siren, a real stunner, and an excellent actress to boot. She’d already headlined three movies, been in another six and had managed it all in less than five years. She’d married her agent, and he’d been the one to thrust her into the limelight but their relationship didn’t seem to be the lasting kind. Mina bit her lip again as worry and guilt clouded her features. Many would have mistaken Ace’s comment for worry, but she knew better. “Doesn’t...” she hesitated for a second. “Doesn’t Beryl start shooting today?”
He suddenly seemed annoyed and sat back. “Yes she starts fucking shooting today. The biggest goddamn part any girl could ever get, and I’m betting she’s sleeping off a hangover at that queer director friend of hers. Who the hell does she think she is?! She’s no fucking Marilyn, not yet anyway. The studio isn’t going to be happy if she isn’t there for the first damned day.” He pushed her off his lap, his touch no longer soft or kind. “You need to get to work.”
“The club isn’t opening until eight tonight,” she stated, a little affronted at how he was taking his frustration out on her, “I’ve already rehearsed-”
“I have a fucking headache, Diana, get the message.” He frowned once he realised what she’d said. “Who says my club isn’t opening until eight?!”
Mina blinked at his tone. “They’re installing the new bar in today. You should know that, Cairo must have reminded you at least twice about it.”
He stood up from his chair and walked straight to her, invading her space, his dark eyes narrowed into slits. “I don’t give a shit what that oaf says, he’s not the boss around here, I am, got it?” He pulled away, turning from her face, deliberately not giving her a second glance. “Walk yourself out, babe, and be discreet about it. If Beryl comes home I don’t want her seeing you.” He opened the door, his shirt unbuttoned, a frown still marring his features. “Where is he, anyway? He’s fucking late.”
Mina angrily shoved her dress on and white heels. A snide comment was on the edge of her tongue but she reigned it in, slipping past him with only a soft clacking of her heels and a gentle brush to his shoulder. She didn’t look back, she was too angry, but she made sure her gait gave nothing away. It would not do to bite the hand that fed her.
As she made her way through the hallway, white walled and glass covered, the sun hit her body but it did nothing to warm her. When she was out of his sight, she allowed her arms reached up and hug herself as exhaustion finally set in. She felt filthy and guilty, the feelings gnawing at her until all she wanted to do was cry. She refused to do so, however. Mina wasn’t that kind of girl. She was stronger than that. Beryl, Ace, both of them were users, they deserved everything they got... she stopped herself, that wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right. It was all wrong, everything, everything was going wrong. Her life wasn’t supposed to be like this, all she’d wanted to was to be a star, she hadn’t meant to-
“You look lost.”
A deep voice, low as it was dangerous, yanked her quickly out of her thoughts. “Cairo,” she said, surprised at his sudden appearance, not that it was something unusual - as tall and broad as he was, he moved like a ghost, unheard and unexpected, she was used to it and recovered quickly. She gave him a smile, sliding her arms slowly out of her position of insecurity and twisting the movement into something sensual. “Ace is looking for you,” she said, ignoring his comment.
He studied her with piercing eyes, set hard onto her features as if he was deliberately trying to intimidate her. “Are you alright?”
She brushed his question away on reflex, “Why wouldn’t I be?” Once the words came out of her mouth she felt silly. Giving herself a glance downwards, she noticed how wrinkled her dress was. She was still a little sweaty, her hair was dishevelled and she knew that her make up was now greasy and smudged. “I haven’t had a chance to glam myself up yet. It’s been a long night, I must look like a mess to you.”
“You look stunning.” His answer came out just as quickly as hers had, his grey eyes never wavering. “You just don’t look happy.”
She tilted her head up at that. Cairo had a way about him, something which made her feel like he could see right through her. Anything Ace ever said about his assistant was wrong, he didn’t know Cairo at all, but then, nobody really did. “Am I supposed to be happy all of the time?”
Cairo flicked his gaze up above her, to where Ace’s home office lay behind her, and then looked straight into her sky blue eyes, his slight movement indicating he knew exactly where she’d been and who she’d been doing. “Shouldn’t you be happy now? Haven’t you just come from fu-”
“I’m tired,” she interrupted, not wanting to hear him say it. “That’s all it is. It was a long night,” she repeated, her bright eyes cast themselves downwards involuntarily, unable to look at him, “It’s not been an easy past few days.”
They stood together in silence for a moment, him contemplating her words, her contemplating his shoes, unable to look him in his face.
“I’ll get Amara to replace you on the roster. You can take the night off.”
“No.” She looked up then, having composed herself. “Don’t. I’ll be fine, really. I’ll get some rest this afternoon.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to sing, Cairo.” Her lips were pressed into a line of determination. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.” She frowned, “I just didn’t expect life to be like this.”
He didn’t like seeing her so melancholy, sadness didn’t suit her. She was like the sunshine, bright and alive. She could draw people in like a moth to a flame with her carefree smile and pretty eyes, with her swaying hips and sharp tongue. Ace was ruining her, like the idiot ruined everything. He hated it. “Why do you do it?”
“Do what?” She asked, uncomprehending.
“Him.”
She lifted a fine blonde eyebrow at the answer.
It didn’t seem to affect him and he continued on. “He doesn’t love you.”
He took her by surprise again, but really she should have known, Cairo never held anything back, no matter how much it hurt. “He does, in his own way.” She steeled herself, familiar with this kind of game of his - hurt you until you get your guard back up, “And it’s none of your business.” She wasn’t angry, but she was no longer vulnerable to him.
“You’re being defensive about it.” Cairo gave her a small smile, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly.
It made Mina’s heart beat just a little bit faster but she wouldn’t let him see. “You’re being invasive.”
“I’m not the one with regret written all over my face,” he put a hand into his cream pant pocket, his stance relaxing. “No one is forcing you to be with him, Mina. You’re a good person and he’s just a man.” He didn’t understand it. He couldn’t see what she found so enticing about him. “How can you stand being with him?”
She saw the opportunity to put herself on the upper ground with that question and she went for it. “I could ask you the same thing. Why are running after his every pathetic whim when you could do so much better?”
“It’s what he pays me for,” he said, smiling. This was the woman he was in love with. “You fuck him for free.”
Her pretty mouth twisted into a cynical little grin. “He may be small time, but I’m smaller, you think people would look at me twice for a motion picture part if Ace spread around that I used to be one of his whores? He also has enough connections for me to get my foot in the door. I can’t afford to not have Ace love me.”
She was an incredible actress, but he didn’t believe her for a second, there was more to it than that. Ace had a hold on her, like he did with his wife, Cairo had seen it. Ace attracted women like bees on honey. “So you think you’re living the dream? Fuck him until you can fuck someone higher up?”
“At some point I’d also like to do some acting.” She shot back. “No-one gets anything for nothing in this world.” Her arms crossed themselves delicately in an involuntary show of insecurity.
His hand came out of his pocket and he stiffened. “I hate that he gets to touch you,” he stated.
She smiled at that. “Jealous?”
He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. “Haven’t I made that obvious enough?” He leaned in, tucking his head in the crook of her neck, careful to keep a hair’s breadth away from her skin and inhaled. “You smell like sex.”
Her arms pulled away and reached behind her, placing her palms on the glass window. “Turn you on?” she asked, standing her ground. She could hear his smirk.
“You’d know it if I was. I don’t share well with others.”
“Is that why you never touch me?”
He looked up at her, slow, deliberate. “No.”
“Then why?” She was holding her breath in, too nervous to speak out any louder than a whisper.
“You don’t want me to,” he said, his face a solid cold mask, revealing nothing but hard, impassable wall.
“You’re not the one should be making that call,” she said, the nerves leaving and being replaced by frustration.
He backed away, standing upright again. The heat was gone. “You don’t want me. I’m no good for anyone.” He blinked and it was if the last few minutes hadn’t even happened. “I’ll see you later at the club, Miss Love.” There had been a miniscule pause, almost a hesitation when he’d used her stage name and it flared Mina inside.
“When you say it like that, it almost sounds like you’re looking down at me.”
Cairo shook his head. “Not you, just your little charade.”
An angered yell interrupted them. “Cairo!”
Mina shot a glance at the door of Ace’s office. “Looks like your services are required, Mr Roth. Although I don’t think you’ll quite manage to satisfy his needs as well as I just did.” Whether she said it out of spite for what he’d said earlier, she wasn’t sure, but she felt he deserved it no matter what her motivation.
If he was upset by her words, he didn’t show it. Instead his mouth twitched, as if he were almost amused and trying to hide it. “I’m on my way to tell him that the police are here and that they want to see him.” She looked shocked, her full lips parting as her bright eyes widened. It wasn’t often he got to see her looking like that, it was a novelty. “Apparently Beryl Kingdom is dead.” He walked away, and missed the fear on her face.
Genre: 1950s Neo Noir
Rating: M
AN: Thanks to lovelylytton for beta-ing ^_^
Previous Chapter: Chapter 1
The sun was rising, just peaking over the soft blue horizon, its rays casting outwards and setting the sky into an orange fire which spread over the city. It was beautiful, almost heavenly, and it stole the slight night chill from the air. Most would find it serene, but there was something about mornings which threw Cairo into chaos: first there was the dreaded sense of disappointment which accompanied consciousness, that listlessness which came from the knowledge that he was still alive. Then came the bout of happiness, a fleeting, dangerous feeling which injected itself into his heart at the mere thought of those he loved and cared for the most; it was all that kept him going.
The prospect of seeing mornings made him think, they made him worry. Life, to him, was just a long journey into nothingness, sparsely populated with moments of sheer joy and relief. The only way to dispel his melancholy was to follow an important ritual: to watch those he loved, to know they were alive for the new day. It was not something which he practiced often; even he could recognise the slow creep into insanity he was making, but he couldn’t help himself. They were his family, if not by blood, then by spirit. They were his reason for being; watching them soothed his troubled mind.
There were three he followed, and watched and looked after. Three people he loved and dreamed and lived for.
Cairo’s car was parked discreetly behind a pick-up truck at the corner of a T-junction. It was a small suburban neighbourhood: white picket fences, square front yards and middle-class family housing. Each identical home would probably be equipped with a television set, a washing machine and a perfect family unit. But there was one house, one in particular, which held his attention. It had a red door and a tidy front yard with a colourful windmill spinning in the corner. The windows blazed golden, the sun kissing them with King Midas’ touch.
The mailbox at the front was labelled ‘Mr & Mrs Zuckerman’ and the little red flag was tilted up, indicating the mailman had already made his daily run. There was a glass bottle of milk on the doorstep, and a newspaper wrapped neatly on the welcome mat.
Cairo could tell there was warmth to this house. There was happiness. It was almost too perfect.
The door opened and a man with scruffy, greying hair and a striped bathrobe stepped out in maroon slippers. He yawned widely before bending down to pick up the newspaper and milk. Tucking the former under his arm, he turned and looked at the sun, taking in a refreshing breath of morning air.
“You’re letting in a draught, dear!” a lady’s voice called from inside the house. “You know how easily Serena can catch a cold!”
The man made to turn around and head inside, but a sound in the distance caught his attention. Instead of going back into the house he closed the door behind him, leaving it ajar, and watched as a vehicle hummed its way towards him with a small smile on his face.
Cairo had heard the sound as well. His grey eyes shifted immediately from the older man and fixed themselves eagerly onto the approaching cherry red Chevy Deluxe Bel Air at the bottom of the hill. He reclined into his seat, his large, stiff body visibly relaxing on sight of the driver. With a barely audible sigh a tiny patch of steam touched the his window, evaporating as quickly as it appeared.
Darien was coming home.
His dark, cloud-grey eyes watched like a hawk, following the Bel Air as it pulled up to the front gate. A tall, dark haired man, shoulders slumped slightly from weariness, stepped out of the vehicle, pulling out a brown leather physician’s bag with gold clasps as he went. The warmth of the sun illuminated his tired features, temporarily chasing away the paleness of his skin and leaving him tanned and healthy. He met the man on the doorstep and shook his hand.
“Morning, Mr Zuckerman.” His voice was deep and smooth, betraying none of the weariness his gait suggested. Cairo could hear him clearly in the silence of the early morning, the only other noise being the chirping and twittering of waking birds.
“How was your shift?”
Cairo listened intently for the answer, irrationally leaning just a fraction forward, his hands gripping the steering wheel.
“No busier than usual. These nights aren’t easy, I don’t think I’m as young as I used to be.” Darien offered to take the milk from the man but he was declined.
“Nonsense, if you’re not young, what on Earth do you call an old fogey like me?” The man gave Darien a reassuring pat on his back. “You’re just a little more worried than usual, and that’ll exhaust you more than anything. It’s a natural feeling for a man who’s about to become a dad.” The corners of his thin pleasant lips lifted into a kind smile. “Trust me, son, you may be the doctor, but I know a few things too. Don’t worry, everything’s going to be alright.”
Darien smiled, and the tiredness from his eyes seemed to vanish. “Did Mimi stop by?” he asked. “She said she would after her shift ended at the hospital.”
Mr Zuckerman gave a small chuckle, “Of course she did. Your sister came by about two hours after you left for work and did all sorts of checks with those medical things of hers.” He pushed the door open. “Everything’s fine,” he said. “Come on in. Have some breakfast and get some rest. You look beat.”
“Is she awake yet?” he asked as they made their way inside.
“She will be once she starts to smell the bacon.”
The door shut behind.
Cairo smiled and started his engine.
~*~
“Ace...” she was whimpering, her head thrown back, plastering her honey golden hair to her smooth back. “Baby.. I’m-”
“Shut up!” His face was scrunched tightly, sweat trickling down through his sandy-coloured hair to his temples as he concentrated on the building pressure within him. One hand was clutching the mahogany table so tightly his knuckles were white, while the other dug into her soft flesh, controlling their rhythm.
Mina bit down her plump bottom lip and did her best not to make a sound as he increased his pace, his breath and movements becoming frantic and rougher than before as he reached for his climax.
He came before she did and pulled out just as she was finishing, flopping himself into his office chair, exhausted, sweaty and satisfied.
Puffing out a long breath, Mina Zuckerman, known by most as Diana Love, leaned back further on the desk and rested on her elbows, flicking her hair lightly to move it from her face.
Ace watched her for a minute, his brown eyes dragging themselves over her soft curves, now moist with exertion. He reached up and slapped her thigh. “Climb off, doll face, you’re sweating all over my documents.”
She rolled her bright blue eyes and huffed in annoyance, obliging nonetheless. “You’re in a great mood this morning,” she commented, peeling herself away and walking to where her yellow sundress lay crumpled on the floor. “You still fighting?”
Ace grunted. “What’s it of your business?”
She shrugged a smooth, delicate shoulder. “I thought you’d like to talk about it. Sometimes that helps.”
He gave her a cynical laugh and grabbed onto her wrist, pulling her into his lap. “When I want your help, I’ll ask for it.” His hand travelled up her thigh, his thumb massaging the smooth skin down to her knee.
She leaned down, fluttering her eyelashes closed and kissed him. He kissed her back, tenderly, his hand snaking up to cup her cheeks, stroking her face lightly and moaning with pleasure. It sent her reeling. These were the moments she secretly loved with him, tender little ones that touched on the sweet person he was inside. Mina was no fool, she knew how much of a heel Ace could be, but there was something about him, especially when he was like this, that made him irresistible. “What’s wrong, baby? Tell me?” She asked quietly when they pulled apart.
He sighed, their breaths intermingling with each other. “My bitch of a wife still hasn’t come home, it’s been almost a week.”
It was not uncommon for Ace not to see his wife for days at a time, everyone knew that they fought like cats and dogs, that she spent nights in friends’ houses and apartments all over the city, drunk or high with other movie stars, business men, politicians, mobsters. She was America’s new siren, a real stunner, and an excellent actress to boot. She’d already headlined three movies, been in another six and had managed it all in less than five years. She’d married her agent, and he’d been the one to thrust her into the limelight but their relationship didn’t seem to be the lasting kind. Mina bit her lip again as worry and guilt clouded her features. Many would have mistaken Ace’s comment for worry, but she knew better. “Doesn’t...” she hesitated for a second. “Doesn’t Beryl start shooting today?”
He suddenly seemed annoyed and sat back. “Yes she starts fucking shooting today. The biggest goddamn part any girl could ever get, and I’m betting she’s sleeping off a hangover at that queer director friend of hers. Who the hell does she think she is?! She’s no fucking Marilyn, not yet anyway. The studio isn’t going to be happy if she isn’t there for the first damned day.” He pushed her off his lap, his touch no longer soft or kind. “You need to get to work.”
“The club isn’t opening until eight tonight,” she stated, a little affronted at how he was taking his frustration out on her, “I’ve already rehearsed-”
“I have a fucking headache, Diana, get the message.” He frowned once he realised what she’d said. “Who says my club isn’t opening until eight?!”
Mina blinked at his tone. “They’re installing the new bar in today. You should know that, Cairo must have reminded you at least twice about it.”
He stood up from his chair and walked straight to her, invading her space, his dark eyes narrowed into slits. “I don’t give a shit what that oaf says, he’s not the boss around here, I am, got it?” He pulled away, turning from her face, deliberately not giving her a second glance. “Walk yourself out, babe, and be discreet about it. If Beryl comes home I don’t want her seeing you.” He opened the door, his shirt unbuttoned, a frown still marring his features. “Where is he, anyway? He’s fucking late.”
Mina angrily shoved her dress on and white heels. A snide comment was on the edge of her tongue but she reigned it in, slipping past him with only a soft clacking of her heels and a gentle brush to his shoulder. She didn’t look back, she was too angry, but she made sure her gait gave nothing away. It would not do to bite the hand that fed her.
As she made her way through the hallway, white walled and glass covered, the sun hit her body but it did nothing to warm her. When she was out of his sight, she allowed her arms reached up and hug herself as exhaustion finally set in. She felt filthy and guilty, the feelings gnawing at her until all she wanted to do was cry. She refused to do so, however. Mina wasn’t that kind of girl. She was stronger than that. Beryl, Ace, both of them were users, they deserved everything they got... she stopped herself, that wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right. It was all wrong, everything, everything was going wrong. Her life wasn’t supposed to be like this, all she’d wanted to was to be a star, she hadn’t meant to-
“You look lost.”
A deep voice, low as it was dangerous, yanked her quickly out of her thoughts. “Cairo,” she said, surprised at his sudden appearance, not that it was something unusual - as tall and broad as he was, he moved like a ghost, unheard and unexpected, she was used to it and recovered quickly. She gave him a smile, sliding her arms slowly out of her position of insecurity and twisting the movement into something sensual. “Ace is looking for you,” she said, ignoring his comment.
He studied her with piercing eyes, set hard onto her features as if he was deliberately trying to intimidate her. “Are you alright?”
She brushed his question away on reflex, “Why wouldn’t I be?” Once the words came out of her mouth she felt silly. Giving herself a glance downwards, she noticed how wrinkled her dress was. She was still a little sweaty, her hair was dishevelled and she knew that her make up was now greasy and smudged. “I haven’t had a chance to glam myself up yet. It’s been a long night, I must look like a mess to you.”
“You look stunning.” His answer came out just as quickly as hers had, his grey eyes never wavering. “You just don’t look happy.”
She tilted her head up at that. Cairo had a way about him, something which made her feel like he could see right through her. Anything Ace ever said about his assistant was wrong, he didn’t know Cairo at all, but then, nobody really did. “Am I supposed to be happy all of the time?”
Cairo flicked his gaze up above her, to where Ace’s home office lay behind her, and then looked straight into her sky blue eyes, his slight movement indicating he knew exactly where she’d been and who she’d been doing. “Shouldn’t you be happy now? Haven’t you just come from fu-”
“I’m tired,” she interrupted, not wanting to hear him say it. “That’s all it is. It was a long night,” she repeated, her bright eyes cast themselves downwards involuntarily, unable to look at him, “It’s not been an easy past few days.”
They stood together in silence for a moment, him contemplating her words, her contemplating his shoes, unable to look him in his face.
“I’ll get Amara to replace you on the roster. You can take the night off.”
“No.” She looked up then, having composed herself. “Don’t. I’ll be fine, really. I’ll get some rest this afternoon.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to sing, Cairo.” Her lips were pressed into a line of determination. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.” She frowned, “I just didn’t expect life to be like this.”
He didn’t like seeing her so melancholy, sadness didn’t suit her. She was like the sunshine, bright and alive. She could draw people in like a moth to a flame with her carefree smile and pretty eyes, with her swaying hips and sharp tongue. Ace was ruining her, like the idiot ruined everything. He hated it. “Why do you do it?”
“Do what?” She asked, uncomprehending.
“Him.”
She lifted a fine blonde eyebrow at the answer.
It didn’t seem to affect him and he continued on. “He doesn’t love you.”
He took her by surprise again, but really she should have known, Cairo never held anything back, no matter how much it hurt. “He does, in his own way.” She steeled herself, familiar with this kind of game of his - hurt you until you get your guard back up, “And it’s none of your business.” She wasn’t angry, but she was no longer vulnerable to him.
“You’re being defensive about it.” Cairo gave her a small smile, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly.
It made Mina’s heart beat just a little bit faster but she wouldn’t let him see. “You’re being invasive.”
“I’m not the one with regret written all over my face,” he put a hand into his cream pant pocket, his stance relaxing. “No one is forcing you to be with him, Mina. You’re a good person and he’s just a man.” He didn’t understand it. He couldn’t see what she found so enticing about him. “How can you stand being with him?”
She saw the opportunity to put herself on the upper ground with that question and she went for it. “I could ask you the same thing. Why are running after his every pathetic whim when you could do so much better?”
“It’s what he pays me for,” he said, smiling. This was the woman he was in love with. “You fuck him for free.”
Her pretty mouth twisted into a cynical little grin. “He may be small time, but I’m smaller, you think people would look at me twice for a motion picture part if Ace spread around that I used to be one of his whores? He also has enough connections for me to get my foot in the door. I can’t afford to not have Ace love me.”
She was an incredible actress, but he didn’t believe her for a second, there was more to it than that. Ace had a hold on her, like he did with his wife, Cairo had seen it. Ace attracted women like bees on honey. “So you think you’re living the dream? Fuck him until you can fuck someone higher up?”
“At some point I’d also like to do some acting.” She shot back. “No-one gets anything for nothing in this world.” Her arms crossed themselves delicately in an involuntary show of insecurity.
His hand came out of his pocket and he stiffened. “I hate that he gets to touch you,” he stated.
She smiled at that. “Jealous?”
He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. “Haven’t I made that obvious enough?” He leaned in, tucking his head in the crook of her neck, careful to keep a hair’s breadth away from her skin and inhaled. “You smell like sex.”
Her arms pulled away and reached behind her, placing her palms on the glass window. “Turn you on?” she asked, standing her ground. She could hear his smirk.
“You’d know it if I was. I don’t share well with others.”
“Is that why you never touch me?”
He looked up at her, slow, deliberate. “No.”
“Then why?” She was holding her breath in, too nervous to speak out any louder than a whisper.
“You don’t want me to,” he said, his face a solid cold mask, revealing nothing but hard, impassable wall.
“You’re not the one should be making that call,” she said, the nerves leaving and being replaced by frustration.
He backed away, standing upright again. The heat was gone. “You don’t want me. I’m no good for anyone.” He blinked and it was if the last few minutes hadn’t even happened. “I’ll see you later at the club, Miss Love.” There had been a miniscule pause, almost a hesitation when he’d used her stage name and it flared Mina inside.
“When you say it like that, it almost sounds like you’re looking down at me.”
Cairo shook his head. “Not you, just your little charade.”
An angered yell interrupted them. “Cairo!”
Mina shot a glance at the door of Ace’s office. “Looks like your services are required, Mr Roth. Although I don’t think you’ll quite manage to satisfy his needs as well as I just did.” Whether she said it out of spite for what he’d said earlier, she wasn’t sure, but she felt he deserved it no matter what her motivation.
If he was upset by her words, he didn’t show it. Instead his mouth twitched, as if he were almost amused and trying to hide it. “I’m on my way to tell him that the police are here and that they want to see him.” She looked shocked, her full lips parting as her bright eyes widened. It wasn’t often he got to see her looking like that, it was a novelty. “Apparently Beryl Kingdom is dead.” He walked away, and missed the fear on her face.