Friends With Way Too Many Benefits (36 page)

"What?" He scoffed, shaking his head. He tapped the image closed and read the message.

Your "big" present finally arrived. It's in perfect condition. Hope you're treating Natalie right, she's a keeper. Call me when you have a few minutes.

He brought the picture back up and gazed at it sighing. "Shit."

"Paul, do you think we should shoot it from this angle with the court in the back or from the pool?"

"Yes." Paul turned and headed toward the front of the house leaving the set decorator puzzled.

Paul waited impatiently behind the assistant director as he ran the shoot in the front of the house. After Natalie delivered her final line, Matt said, "Cut! Good. Let's reset and go one more time."

Paul whispered something in his ear then Matt stepped away from him. "No, let's take twenty."

The crew headed off and Paul walked toward the car as Chance and Natalie climbed out of the vehicle. Paul walked up to her and asked, "Can I speak to you?"

"Um, okay."

Chance watched them closely, narrowing his eyes. Paul shot the young super-stud a look and grumbled, "That's twenty."

Chance took off and Paul opened the car door up for Natalie. She climbed inside and he headed to the other side and got in.

She said, "Am I doing something wrong, I've really been trying—"

"No." He exhaled deeply. "Look, the poster came and I just wanted to find out what you paid so I can reimburse you for it."

"What? No, it's a gift. I want you to have it."

"I can't accept it." Glancing at her, he fooled with the air vent flipping it open then closed then back again.

"How's it look?" She smiled. "Is it in good condition, because—"

"It's perfect. Where did you find it?"

"I searched for it, but didn't have any luck. My agent found one for me."

"I completely forgot that you said there was another gift coming." He turned to her, pausing a moment to think. "Look, sorry I've been sort of a prick since, well, you know."

"Oh, no, don't..."

"I have been. I've been acting like a baby. I know how this game works, we all have to do what we need to do to get ahead in this business." He scoffed. "I could tell you some stories about how I got my first break."

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know." Placing his hand on the shifter, he sighed.

She put her hand atop his and squeezed. "I'm sorry."

"I have to pay you for the poster. I just have to."

"Really, it's a gift and basically I got it for free. I mean, I do have to attend this creepy guy's party next month as part of the deal, but..." She smiled. "I guess you could go in my place if you really wanted to."

"Really?" He shook his head.

"Yeah, but they'll be expecting you to wear a bikini." She chuckled.

"Something tells me they don't want to see me in one."

"Probably not."

"I don't want you to have to do that. Do you know anything about this guy?"

She shrugged. "Don't worry. He's just some real estate millionaire. I'll take a few of the Playboy security guys with me. I'll be fine."

"Oh. Okay... Again I'm sorry." He sighed. "I just need to pull it together and really focus on finishing this movie."

"Yeah, sure, I get it."

"Maybe when we get back to L.A. we could..." He looked into her eyes and shrugged.

"Sure, whatever."

He pulled his hand away and gave her a smile. "Thank you for the poster. I feel like my collection is finally complete."

"I'd love to see it."

"Okay." Opening the door, he climbed out of the car. He poked his head back in. "You're doing a great job. Everyone's been just blown away."

"Really?"

"Yes, I think big things are ahead of you. I really do."

He closed the door and left her in the car. She gripped the steering wheel and watched through the rearview mirror as he walked away.

A few days later Brian stood courtside as Amanda shot her first tennis sequence in the movie. Olga Katarina, a body double for the World famous starlet had just concluded her work on court. She’s a former pro on the Women's tour, had once been a qualifier at the U.S. Open, but never established much of a career. Her one claim to fame could now be the fact that her legs and general body shape mimicked that of the famous Amanda Joseph. If you were to pick a body to emulate, it was a pretty damn good choice.

Amanda's assignment that day was to film the upper body and face shots and maintain a competent swing that later, with the benefit of editing, could be married up with Olga's expert shots and look seamless on screen. Amanda was on court with a middle-aged little known character actor playing the part of Jillian's rude tennis date near the beginning of the story.

After twenty minutes of filming, Brian met with his student to correct some minor issues. Shooting commenced and about two hours later Paul wrapped that sequence and the crew headed back to the trailers for the daily post production work.

Sweaty, but still looking stunning, the super beauty, spoke with Brian as he sat on a bench courtside.

"I'm free for the next couple hours if you want to squeeze in our session tonight instead of tomorrow morning." She smiled. "I prefer to sleep in, just don't tell Paul."

He chuckled. "I had the rest of the day blocked out for this anyway, so sure."

"Great."

"Let me grab my racquet and I'll be right back."

A few minutes later, Brian returned with his tennis bag and discovered Amanda practicing her serve. He headed to the opposite side of the court and the two hit the ball back and forth for about ten minutes. He provided instruction as they worked on alternating between crosscourt forehands and backhands, directing her to hit the ball over the center of the net, at its lowest point, whenever possible.

Noticing she was not following through completely on her strokes, he suggested they record her swing for review. Brian called to the front desk and requested assistance. A member of the staff met them a few minutes later carrying one of the club's iPads used by the instructors.

Brian introduced his assistant who hit balls to Amanda as Brian recorded her strokes. After capturing four each of her backhand and forehand swings, Brian thanked his assistant and sent him on his way.

Brian and Amanda sat on the bench reviewing the recording. In slow motion they went over first her forehand then her backhand stroke. He pointed out what she was doing right and areas for improvement. The main issue was with her forehand. She needed to lead more with her left hand and follow the swing through to completion.

"This is incredibly helpful," she gushed as they headed together to the same side of the court.

"Let's try a few and really focus on your swing. Don't worry about getting the ball in or hitting with pace, just focus on connecting and following through."

"Okay." She narrowed her eyes. "So, is it like this?" She took a few practice swings.

He smiled politely. "Almost." Positioning his racquet back, he demonstrated the proper forehand stroke.

"All right." She nodded and gave it a try.

"That's better, but, here..." He moved in behind her and took gentle hold of her arm, bringing it all the way back to the starting point. "You see, um, really start back this far."

"Okay," she said softly. Their faces were only inches apart.

He took a deep breath, sampling her perfume. "Yeah, and, um... then swing from low to high." Guiding her stroke, he slowly twisted his body along with hers to the final position.

She turned back to him and smiled. Their bodies were so close now he could feel the heat pouring off of her. The attraction between them was undeniable. She gazed into his eyes. "You really are an incredible instructor."

"Thanks," he replied softly and they stood less than a foot apart for only another second but it felt like an eternity. He stepped back and stammered, "Um, yeah, so why don't you try it now."

"Okay." Bringing her racquet back, she held it steady and glanced back to him.

"That's it."

She swung from low to high and led with her left hand to the proper finish position.

He smiled. "Perfect. Let's try some." He ran to the other side of the net and hit a ball to her. She returned it well, hitting it with medium pace and enough topspin to drop it safely in the court. "Great....That's it."

The two hit dozens more balls with Amanda's consistency improving by the minute. He found himself staring at her shapely legs and rear as she bent over to pick up balls from the court. Pulling himself back to reality, he slapped himself in the face and quickly turned away.

After an hour more of practice, the two retuned to the bench and sat down chugging from water bottles. She smiled. "This is so much easier when you know what you're doing."

"Yeah, it's ninety percent mechanics. You don't try to kill the ball, just hit solid strokes and you'll go a long way to improving your game. You really have some natural talent."

"You think?"

"I do."

She took a sip from her bottle. "I really appreciate you working with me. I wouldn't have lasted another day with Uri."

"No, I'm glad to do it. It'll be something I'll tell my grandchildren about." He smiled. "Would you mind if I got a picture of us, so they'll actually believe it?"

"Sure."

He pulled his iPhone from his bag and he set up the picture, holding the phone at arm's length as Amanda moved close to him.

"Ready?"

"Yep." She smiled and he took the picture.

He reviewed the image, smiling. "Thank you."

"How about I thank you for the lessons by buying you dinner tonight?"

"What?" Caught off guard, he stammered. "Um, I, uh..."

"Do you have any plans?"

"Just, um, you know, I've got to get home tonight, but thank you." Rising up from the bench, he grabbed his bag. "Actually I'm kinda late, so..."

"Maybe another time." She bent down to pick up a ball from the court, her cleavage now slipping out before him.

His eyes bugged out of his head and he turned away quickly.

"You really like the smell of these?" She chuckled.

"What?"

"Tennis balls... you like the smell?" Lifting one to her nose, she gave it a sniff.

"I, um..."

"From the novel, you know..." She narrowed her eyes. "Remember?"

Realization smacked him across the face. "Sorry, yes, it's, um... an acquired smell."

"Must be."

"So, you're good right, you know your way out of here?" He took a few steps backward.

"Just one more question."

He gazed at her waiting.

"You wouldn't happen to have a shower I could use that's not in the locker room?"

"What?"

"You're open today right?"

"We are." He narrowed his eyes.

"I really can't shower in a public place. With all these phone cameras floating around, I can't take the chance."

"Oh, of course." He took a moment to think. "We have showers back in the massage rooms. I could see if one is free."

"That would be perfect."

She followed him off the court to the massage rooms lobby. After checking the schedule, he led her to the open massage room and held the door as she walked in. She dropped her bag on the floor and looked around smiling. "This is a beautiful club you have here."

"We just put these rooms in."

He pointed to the glass enclosed shower. "There's soap and shampoo in the stall and the towels are right there."

"I appreciate it."

"No problem."

Glancing to the door, she frowned.

"What is it?" He asked.

"I don't see a lock."

"We don't, um, we don't want any of our masseuses or clients to get... too comfortable back here if you know what I mean."

"Oh, I get it— no happy endings."

"Exactly."

"Do you think you could maybe guard the door for five minutes, while I'm in here?"

"Oh, yeah, sure." He pulled open the door and turned back to her. "Rest assured, no one is getting past me."

"Thanks."

After delivering a weak smile, he slipped out, pulled the door closed and slumped against the wall, cringing. "Rest assured, no one is getting past me," he said, mimicking himself in a nerdy voice.

"Jesus Christ you're such a loser."

Seven minutes later, she pulled open the door, dressed in fresh clothes and looking stunning for a woman who only ten minutes earlier was completely sweaty and a mess.

"Thank you for waiting. I appreciate it."