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[+red "Any-anything else? Will you also be having food?"]
The water, a boy fresh out of highschool trying to make a quick buck, approached and took Dimitri's drink order with a flushed blushed look on his face.
The restaurant was known of having celebrities enjoying the food as the owwner, was well known in these parts, so one would of thought, the boy would of been used to seeing stardom, however when it came to Emily and Dimitri, two of the well known, loved - very famous Actors together in one room - the boy couldn't help himself.
Tilting her head down, Emily's eyes scanned over the elegant menu - ears perking up upon listening to the Actor recite the order he wanted before the Waiter turning to Emily who bit her lower lip still deciding on what it was she truely felt like.
[b "Um... i'll have the Osso buco alla milanese and another vodka rocks, please..."] she spoke, keeping those eyes on the Waiter who wrote down the order before shifting away to do his duty and feed the people.
A proper apology was all that she wanted - well, that and a nice night with a man who would ruin her in bed sine she hadn't had that in a long time - despite what people said.
Hell, she was aching for it.
Leaning forward - lips pursed, eyes staring Dimitri down while her breasts were pushed together and up - she spoke words on wanting that apology now.
Best to get it out of the way now, rather than later then perhaps they could enjoy their meal without it being awkward.
Dimitri was cracking.
Almost giving in from the sight of him.
Was a nice apology coming her way?
[b "I'm ready when you are..."] she muttered, her fingertips gently circling the rim of the drink glass.
[i "Emily, I truly apologize for my actions earlier and w-well, well for how my previous words about you made you feel. It was rude of me."]
And there it was.
It truely shone like stars that apology.
It was good, it was meaningful, not acted out - and what she wanted.
Keepng her eyes on him, her lower lip slipping into her mouth - giving it a little bite with her teeth, slowly she sat back and nodded.
[b 'While we are on the conversation of apologizing... I would like to do the same..'] Emily spoke. [b 'I am sorry about today, the whole water thing. I would like it if you give me the dry cleaning bill and I'll pay it for you. It's the least I can do..."] she continued, raising a leg under the table and gently let her foot rub against the side of where his calf muscle met the shin for a single moment before pulling away.
Ugh, now she was being too nice.
[b "So what now?.."]
Dimitri pursed her lips, already becoming annoyed with her words. He'd stopped only to order a double shot of whiskey straight as the waiter returned with water's and what he presumed to be. Pushing his hair back some, he reached for the glass of water, graciously taking a few gulps to ease his dry mouth. Hands gently cradled the glass carelessly, his fingers tracing away at the water that dripped from the outside.
What was he here for again? His brows furrowed, his mind becoming a mess. It was then Emily's encroachment of his space reminded him. Right. Apologize. The waiter had returned, distracting him once more from the simple task. He was a young fellow, looked fresh out of high school with his bow tie on. He was nervous, maybe having something to do with Dimitri and Emily's presence.
"Any-anything else? Will you also be having food?" The young boy Bryan blushed, his worlds failing him, but he was trying. Dimitri chuckled low, reaching for the glass of brown liquid to switch out for the now empty glass of water.
"Think I'll have the scampi," he mentioned with a shrug. He had begun to definitely feel the pains of hunger, haven't not eaten anything proper since lunch. The waiter nodded, shakenly scribbling his order into a notebook before turning his attention to Emily. "And the lady," he said motioning in her direction, not sure if she were planning to eat as well. Or was she simply waiting for that [I proper apology]: three little letters to make sweetheart satisfied. And then would she flee, probably getting off to knowing in some ways she'd always get her way. Dimitri was beginning to realize that, with him being here with her at his own willingness to invite her.
Soon enough the waiter departed. Dimitri leaned forth, carefully edging the candles out of the way. They illuminated heat, the same heat building between the pair's body. She smelled sweet in both fragrance and the smell of liquor on her lips. He wondered how'd she taste.
With the whiskey already coursing through his body, he was a bit less stuffy and admittingly [I nicer] than usual.
"Fine," he started with a slowly drawl, licking his lips. "Emily." He paused, his eyes falling once more to her lips, down that beautiful neck exposed just so. A low growl managed to escape the male. "Fuck," he whispered, and he knew then, getting drunk had not been smart. The monster of attraction, hungry for a body was nagging at him. Professional, they had to keep things professional. Hooking up wouldn't do much for their already strained acquaintanceship.
Sighing out, he forced himself out of her space, drinking the nearing gone drink, daring to get another if he didn't have to drive back home. "Emily, I truly apologize for my actions earlier and w-well," he stumbled some, briefly meeting her eyes, "well for how my previous words about you made you feel. It was rude of me." He'd gripped his glass tight, muscles now taut. [I There, happy now?] He'd wished to say, choosing to keep things as they were quiet and intimate.
When you hold a grudge, you want someone else’s sorrow to reflect your level of hurt but the two rarely meet.
An apology is a lovely perfume; it can transform the clumsiest moment into a gracious gift. Would ‘sorry’ have made any difference? Does it ever? It’s just a word. One word against a thousand actions.
A sorry that started with an "I" and next came "am" was what Emily wanted.
None of this half assed apology that he felt he was too good for. No one was ever to good to say a decent sorry.
Emily arrived just in the knick of time with a few minutes to spare. Approaching the woman at the front, she gave off a smile and shifted from behind the podium and ushered the Actress to the back of the restaurant, away from the window's and let Emily take her seat.
A beautiful table with candles and fresh smelling flowers.
All in all, she thought Dimitri would of been the first one here, but again, he just had to do better and make her wait.
Sitting down, menu open, Emily's eyes scanned through the drinks and chose - closing it up tight and placed it down onto the table.
[b "Vodka rocks, please..."] she spoke to a nod of accepting the order.
Minutes went by and still no sign of the Actor.
[b "On time, my ass.."] she whispered - looking around the restaurant, wearing the tight little black dress, hair to one side as she sat patiently but it was not long until with a turn of her head, that her emerald green eyes locked upon Dimitri across the room, being shown to the table.
He was looking good.
The hair slicked back, the black shirt that exposed the chest just a little with it being unbuttoned.
The arms that had ink and that were flexed.
If he was trying to make an impression, it was working and for a single moment, Emily felt a little tingle down below.
She was attracted. She was not going to lie about that but had to keep her composure.
It was a dinner, that was it.
[b "Glad you could make it.."] she replied, reaching out, grabbing her handbag from the table and placed it down beside her.
He smelt even better than he looked.
The Waiter soon arrived with the drink in hand and placed it down infront.
With a thank you, Emily gripped the glass and brought it up to her full pouty lips and took a nice sip, keeping her eyes upon Dimitri.
He looked a little more alert than usual.
It took a cocaine user to figure out such things.
Maybe Dimitri had a secret just like she did.
[i "How's you? Any water bottles you have stowed away?"]
[b "Not yet, but there is plenty of time for that. I'm ready for this proper apology, ever you are ready..."] she spoke, putting the drink down - putting all of her focus on him.
Leaning a little forward, Emily raised her eyebrow as her breasts pushed together and raised little upward.
[b "Whenever you are ready. I am all ears...."]
His hair was still dripping with water by the time he'd checked his phone/ He read the text from Emily, surprised she'd not only responded, but also agreed. He rolled his eyes though, [I apologize properly]? What'd been wrong with it, considering he shouldn't have had to apologize in the first place. He was stubborn like that and often it was hard to tell him otherwise he was wrong unless you were Gianna. The male pushed back the wet strands of hair before texting Gianna about their plans. Hopefully this talk would go a bit better.
No time to let his hair air dry, he quickly blow dried the strands before sweeping them back with minimal amount of jail. It'd still looked a bit messy, but it worked. He was glad at least Emily had chosen the restaurant, not knowing anything about the female he knew where they went was important. An angry and hungry woman was not a great pairing.
'Will be there, on time.' He had texted back, responding to Gianna's text of concern and promising the female he would be on his best behavior. Dimitri shrugged on a tight fitting black dress shirt, leaving the top to buttons exposed. He'd decided on a short sleeve, knowing he'd only get warmer and honestly with how much he'd been working out as of late for the movie it was definite he'd need a new wardrobe. He liked breathing in his clothes, though was not afraid to admit it accentuated his figure quite nicely.
After shrugging on a pair of dark jeans, he put on his boots. Dimitri slid his phone in his pocket, his wallet and keys to follow. It was too late to call a car, he'd have to drive. After checking the GPS he saw he wasn't that far, he'd about twenty minutes to get there without being late. He was starting to grow tired some, the alcohol now wearing off and he wasn't sure if he could face the female sober like that.
He walked across the room to his dresser in. long quick strides, his hands rifling through a black box until he found the small vial of white powder. Just a little pick me up. Dimitri had finished a line, too another double shot and popped a mint all in the span of five minutes. He sped toward the elevator, adjusting his watch as the doors beeped open before slowly rolling down toward the garage.
He'd found the sleek expensive black car no problem, checking himself in the mirror. He looked a bit wild, in a ferociously intense way - a man handsome and he knew it. Already lighting a smoke, he started for the restaurant.
He'd barely managed to get there exactly on time, would've been there earlier had he not taken the time to smoke. He'd sprayed the expensive cologne on him, masking the smell and now all you detected was mint and a soft wood like scent. He hadn't been paying attention if he were followed by reporters managing to evade the ones at his front door since he'd gone through the elevator.
Tapping his hands against the rapid beating of his heart, he finally shoved them into his pocket as he had reached the maître d stand. The woman at the station blushed, immediately recognizing him and trying her hardest to remain professional. He smiled down at her, rebellious strands of hair falling in his face.
"uh," he'd started, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I's here to meet with Winthrope, Emily." She nodded instantly, knowing how important it was to be discrete. This was a high-class place though, there were a lot of familiar faces. Either way it was the place that you went if you valued privacy. Following a young male waitress now, he was led to a back booth. It was dimly lit, the only thing keeping light being the candles on the table. Roses littered the white table cloth, it had to be their couple table, probably the only one they had available. Gritting his teeth some Dimitri drunk the woman in. His eyes followed her collarbones, her breast sitting high almost inviting in that barely their dress. He wondered if she owned anything in her closet that covered more than seventy percent of her body. Though keeping it to himself, he had no complaints.
Taking a seat finally, he adjusted some, already thinking of what he'd order.
"Emily," he started, looking up at her with bright eyes a lit by drugs and a hunger, for her or food was his secret to keep. He could pick up her scent, one that was so identifiable you knew if she'd been in a room even after leaving; vanilla and something floral again with a hint of Chanel. He sighed out, she had good taste. "How's you? Any water bottles you have stowed away," he playfully asked the female.
Emily watched as John twisted the handle of the door, pulled back and exited the hotel room.
It was one thing to boss her around, make her do things that she did not really want to do, but it was another thing to leave her alone.
Emily hated being alone, all of the bad habits she did was when she was alone.
Standing in the lounge room, looking around with a single hand upon the back of the couch, Emily bit her lower lip and sighed.
Handbag still slung over her shoulder, it was not long until she shifted into the kitchen and placed her belongings on the counter, trying to figure out words to explain her apology.
Swallow her pride, a big sin and write an apology for her rude behaviour.
Shaking her head - breathing out, that was when she gave in and grabbed a crystal glass and poured herself a decent amount of vodka and took one last gulp.
[b "Fucking apology.."] she muttered to herself only to be stunned when her phone buzzed off and lit up.
Grabbing he cell, opening it up - there was a number that was unfamiliar, a number that belonged to none other than Dimitri.
[i 'Sorry 'bout earlier. Dinner?']
Not much of an apology, but dinner did sound nice.
One could play his game and Emily felt she was a worthy opponent. Dinner, in a public place where she would have to watch her temper and not do anything else that could make front page.
Dimitri planned this well.
They could either go to dinner at a restaurant, or - her hotel suite.
Perhaps public, there, she would apologise for the water incident, but in the mean time, looking at the screen, her fingers typed in a reply.
[b "Alright. Ciccone's - tonight. 8pm. Maybe then you can apologize properly..."] she typed back, pressing send.
Looking at the clock, it did not give her enough time but she had to make do.
Finishing off her drink for it to be empty, Emily wandered into the bedroom ensuite and started to run the shower.
There, inside - she washed herself - smelling like sweet orchid and vanilla.
Skin cleaned, the minutes that went by, went to making herself look appropriate.
Body free of hair.
Body glistening from the lotion she placed upon her flesh.
Hair dried and in loose curls that hung down her back - make up natural with a hint of lipgloss.
A little black dress - skin tight with spaghetti straps along with heels upon her dainty feet, showing off her freshly done pedicure.
Handbag gripped tight, Emily exited the suite and wandered out toward the car that waited to take her to Ciccone's.
10 to 8, she would be in time.
Time had begun to dwindle from the busy afternoon into a nice evening. The sun setting was a beautiful sight through the wall length windows in his living room. He'd made a few calls, answered some emails and assured Gianna he'd take care of everything.
Pacing in his kitchen Dimitri slowly sipped on the liquor he'd poured himself. The little tart Emily had really done a number on his nerves. He could feel his muscles loosening, his body turning hot as the liquor began to do its business. His eyes darted from the floor to his phone as he leaned against the marble counter in his kitchen. [I Apologize, really?] He couldn't believe Gianna and most importantly he knew she was right. It was best to get in front of the story, make this out to seem more lighthearted even though the press wouldn't mind to hear the two were rivals. He just didn't think he'd consistently like getting water shot into his face every conversation with Emily. Though already drunk, he'd poured him another glass, this one a bit fuller than the other. Who cared though, maybe he needed a little courage. Hopefully that was all he did; the fight with Emily had been intense.
It'd turned the man on slightly and he was unsure if he wanted to call Gwen, even though she could help with the ache and wanting to take his body hostage. He thought about Emily, the many words he could send to the female. Yeah he knew the perfect [I apology]. Finally finishing the last of the liquor, his head swimming now, Dimitri crossed the small space and picked up his phone. It'd taken him three tries before he managed to send something he considered a pleasant way of showing remorse.
'Sorry 'bout earlier. Dinner?' It was simple, knowing she didn't appreciate the last conversation. Straight to the point this time he chose was better, no room for her to take offense to anything. Right. This time would be different, he'd choose his words carefully, wine and dine the girl and then all would be sorted then. Plus, maybe she'd be less likely to act out in a more public setting. Dropping his phone on the counter, he heaved a sigh and poured another drink. Right, that was sorted and the more buzzed he was the more he figured he could deal with the woman and her attitude.
"Smug," he muttered under his breath, sipping from the glass and heading toward his bedroom. He started for the bathroom. His shirt was still wet some, the accident so fresh in his mind, it'd began to feel uncomfortable against his skin. Placing the glass on the bathroom counter, he stripped his shirt. "Me smug?" He spoke to his reflection. No doubt about it, the man could be a bit much, sometimes considered arrogant. There was another side to him though, he could be [I nice] as Gianna put it. It was rare though, reserved for the press and intimate friends. Hell, even Gwen often got the side of him that Emily did and the woman also had a fire in him. The last fight had been a mess, the woman was a model but damn good at pretending Dimitri was breaking her heart by leaving for the film. She'd always accuse him of being less than monogamous and it was true, he'd slipped up a few times during film. Unlike Emily though, he'd managed to keep all his affairs secret. For now, at least.
Finishing the drink, he'd turned on the water. Eventually the steam covering his reflection as he stepped into the walk-in shower. His muscles were still tense from the engagement earlier. Dropping his head down, he sighed in satisfaction as tense muscles in his neck released from the harsh pounding of the showerhead - best five hundred dollars he'd spent. He soon began to wash up, by this point definitely buzzed from the alcohol and in good spirits.
Finally stepping out of the shower he reached for a towel, quickly drying his hair before wrapping the towel around his waist. His hands wiped away the fog on the mirror. You could see his other tattoos then, the one on his side - the rose across his chest, a long lost lover's name there. He smirked, shaking his head and beginning to head to put something on.
Emily was darm toot'n proud of herself.
Although feeling sorry for the water, she wandered away from the lunch table with a smile of her face, eyes behind her sunglasses gleaming with pride and accomplishment.
She had put Dimitri back in his place.
Serves him right for speaking to her in such a way. A way of innuendo's as assumptions.
Dimitri did not know a thing about her and if she had it her way, he never would.
While walking away, Emily turned her head and watched the Actor, just in time as he straightened up - in complete and utter shock of what just happened. Grabbing his short and lifted it up that made her go somewhat weak in the knees and tingly after seeing his body, ripped and muscular.
There was no lie or photoshop. There it was, all 6 packs of him.
[i "Jesus...."] she whispered to herself only to snapback into reality and cleared her thoat, hiding the redness in her cheeks in blushing and kept on walking her way back inside to John who was still in discussion with the Director.
[b "Ready to go, John?..."] she spoke as she entered the room, stopping the conversatiom between both men.
John looked down at his watch and nodded slowly. [+green "Yes, it is time to go.."] he replied, turning to Steven and ending the conversation before standing up - walking Emily to the car.
[+green "Why are you happy?..."]
[b "Oh nothing. Can't a girl just be happy?.."]
[+green "Not without a reason..."]
Emily continued to smile and entered the car, parking we sweet ass on the seat only to pull out her cell phone before hand.
Seatbelt on, Emily's fingers were scrolling through her phone and her eyes rested on a video already - taken of the two of them having a little tiff, a lover's tiff, aparently.
[+green "What's that of?.."] John spoke, coming to a set of red lights and stopped the car, leaning over and looked at the video.
A sigh escaped his throat.
[+green "You're kidding, right? ...You actually doused Dimitri in water?..."]
[b "He is being an asshole.."]
[+green "HE can afford to be the asshole! He doesn't have major secrets that could ruin his career, like you do!..."]
[b "It's just water, John. Green light.."] she spoke, John turning back and started to drive off once more.
[+green "You are going to apologize to Dimitri and you will pay for his dry cleaning..."]
[+green "I mean it, Emily. No more of this bullshit. Be nice..."]
Sitting in the seat, Emily closed her phone and sighed - looking out the window as the car pulled up to the hotel's secluded car park.
Getting out, the two spoke on how to apologize, well it was more John that Emily as she still refused.
[+green "This is his number. Write an apology. I'll be back later..."]
[b "Pft...apologize..."] she mumbled, watching John leave the hotel room - leaving her alone in the massive suite - thinking on what to say.
Dimitri had to admit being that close to the female made him feel a certain way. He watched her lips carefully, catching how he watched her too. No complaints about that mouth, yeah, he bet that was true. The hundreds of stories he heard now seemed like they were probable. He was lost then, trying not to think about the female in such a way, but he knew - he was single. What would've been the harm? He internally shook the thought off. No he had to be as professional as possible, didn't want to give her any ammo to make him seem like the bad guy. He was thinking then, way too much until he'd been shocked by the lukewarm liquid now dripping from his face.
"What the-"Dimitri stood quickly then, anger making his ears burn so much so he could barely make out the words the woman had angrily spat at him. "Coffee-"he was still astonished, wiping the water from his face with his shirt, exposing the six pack beneath. She was swaying off away, real properly satisfied with herself and what she'd just did he bet. Gianna was laughing, somewhat in a shocked and yet disappointed tone. Eyes were on him, some people having no shame in laughing and even some taking a few pictures. He was stuck between angry and embarrassed, his cheeks red as he was fuming then.
"Your fault," Gianna said as she wagged her finger at him, clucking her tongue in a disapproving manner. "And don't try to tell me it wasn't." She knew how Dimitri could be, sometimes his head far up his own ass he didn't know when he was being a charming flirt and an outright asshole.
"Don't-" he bashfully smiled, having to play off how badly is ego was bruised. "I tried to be nice. Isn't that what you told me to do?" Gianna had handed him a balled-up piece of tissue from his lunch.
"Me telling you to [I try] to be nice should be a hint that you're not really good in that department. What'd you say to the girl to get her riled up? This is an important opportunity Dimitri."
"Ah fuc-"Dimitri lowered his voice, grabbing his trash to dispose of as they'd started to walk out. "I did my best to clear the air. It'd so thick at the reading. You don't think I can work with someone who doesn't even want to speak to me? She's the one throwing a tantrum." His phone was buzzing in his pocket. He already could tell what was going on online, no doubt a video had been floating around of the situation.
"Hey," Gianna said as they exited the building, already getting into the car. "You need to work on your tone. If there are anymore-" Gianna was distracted by her phone vibrating. She'd also been getting lots of messages and a 'what the hell happened?' from both the director and John. "Oh great." Huffing out she pushed the phone into Dimitri's face. "Look at this! This is why I can't leave you alone." Rolling her eyes, she began to scroll down only to see more fiery pictures and videos of the duo. It didn't look bad, if anything Gianna was already working on how to spin the story. "You need to apologize." She finally curtly demanded toward the male.
Dimitri could hardly believe his ears, he was the one [I assaulted] physically at least. Had his words really got the woman that upset? Imagine how she'd react from his touch. Probably recoil in repulsion.
"Apologize," he snorted, "How do you suppose I am to go about that huh? Want me to get on my knees for the girl?"
"Oh c'mon, don't be a baby." Gianna was watching the video, laughing at them. It'd been nice in a way, seeing the look of surprise on Dimitri's face as the water hit him unexpectedly. "Look, we're going to start shooting in three days. Already next week we've got interviews booked. You need to learn and try [i harder],' she emphasized, 'to be nicer. Get the girl some flowers or something. I don't know, this is your mess to clean up this time." The car had pulled in front of his apartment, no paparazzi for now but they were sure to show up soon. Maybe he could beat them.
"Get her a card, flowers, anything - you're known to be a charmer yeah?" Snorting some he got out of the car, Gianna had forwarded over Emily's information.
"Flowers? Right, maybe get her a book on manner's." Gianna slammed the door shut, not wanting to hear anymore. He sighed and headed inside, head ducked to evade anyone. He nodded toward doorman, watching as the staff giggled behind his back cheekily. His hand held tight to his phone as he stared at Emily's number. "Apologize pft".
He was a real peice of work.
Sitting down, making himself known infront of Emily when all she wanted was peice and quiet.
A man who wanted to make his mark, to swear off that he wasn't one to be intimidated by the way of his movements.
Slowly pushing up his sleeves, showing off ink.
Running fingers through his hair.
Speaking in that tone of voice that only made Emily roll her eyes and scoff under her breath.
Her past was something no one would ever find out, or at least she hoped.
She had spent her whole life to get away from that environment and copius amount of drugs to make her forget.
It was something that would never ...ever come back out in the open and she swore on that.
How on earth, the girlfriend that was with Dimitri could put up with him, Emily would never know. Hell, she would shake her hand and wish her more than good luck to put up with that shmuck.
The only person he cared for was him and him alone.
[i "Hate me? Seems a bit much, a bit hypocritical."]
[b "Does it? ...Doesn't seem that way to me.."]
[i "How's you allowed to hate me without getting to know me and I do the same and yet I'm the bad guy? Must be quite the life, getting by on that cute little face yeah? Or maybe it's that mouth you got on you, God knows it's good for more than just yelling insults."]
[b "From what I recall, Dimitri, is it? You have never worked with me and speak on me not being a good actress. You, do not know me and if I have it my way..you never will..."] she replied, putting the fork into the salad bowl and kept those eyes upon him.
Oh, it took alot not to do certain things, wether it was to slap him or kiss those lips that made her want to bite down hard onto.
Still seated, Emily watched as Dimitri slowly got up, both hands upon the wooden table, arms tensing only to show off the muscle and Emily clenched her jaw, ears perked up as she listened to comments about her mouth and that she should get used to his vocal nature and grow brass balls other she would be a crying mess.
Narrowing her eyes, Emily slowly followed his motion and removed her pert ass up from the seat.
Leaning forward, faces close together - Emily's emerald green eyes kept on gazing into his own while her hand gripped the water bottle.
Smelling his cologue.
Eyes quckly drifting down, looking at mouth before looking back up - making deep eye contact.
[b "One, I have never had any complaints about this mouth of mine and secondly..."]
Leaning back, it was there that with a jolt of her hand - pressure squeezing the bottle that water escaped from inside and splashed all over Dimitri's face
[b "You're not as tough as you think you are. Next time it'll be hot coffee, not water. Watch what you say to me..."] she spoke one more, stepping away from the seat, turning and begun to walk away, putting her sunglasses back on.
His cheeks burned some and he paused mid chew to rub at his neck, sheepishly looking away from the woman. She had a temper, he could see that, and was surprised when he tried to decide whether between it was scary or attractive. Honestly, he found it to be a little of both and it was kind of cute the way her face twisted. How much weight did his words have for the female? Dimitri took another sip from the drink, rolling it in his mouth. It was becoming watered down from the ice melting, but still did the trick.
"Oh now," he started, but stopped not wanting to say something else to tick the girl off. He could see how she held that water bottle, threatening almost and he was positive with a little more pushing she would have no problem tossing it in his direction and not to cool him off. He cocked his head some, his tongue grazing his bottom lip as he watched Emily. Had it been anyone else, he would've reached out a hand to calm the person.
Hell, had it been his girlfriend Gwen he'd already have the woman in his hands, lips kissing hers to keep her silent knowing the anger would melt away just by his touch alone.
[I Smug], he'd admit that was the first time someone had dared to say that to his face. He didn't know until now how much his words truly had affected her. Had what he said really been that bad? He'd admit, he didn't really give her acting much credit, and it true maybe he indulged in the latest gossip about the woman, believing other people's words about how credible Emily was. It was true, he had judged her before he knew her, but he didn't think she was as innocent as she or her fans tried to paint her as. He knew there was something imperfect about the female. Everyone had secrets, even himself. His eyes were distant then, briefly thinking about his past - the side of him he had made sure to keep secret. That was the old him, the him before he'd taken his acting more serious. He had every opportunity to be successful and didn't allow himself to partake in such illicit activities anymore.
"Hate me? Seems a bit much, a bit hypocritical." His thick brows furrowed deep. "How's you allowed to hate me without getting to know me and I do the same and yet I'm the bad guy? Must be quite the life, getting by on that cute little face yeah? Or maybe it's that mouth you got on you, God knows it's good for more than just yelling insults." He'd hadn't meant the last line to come off as aggressively sexual as it had, a low blow for sure. The sandwich had all but disappeared at that point, now just scraps of crust and he'd a few fries left. The conversation had taken a nasty turn, he played with the fries and sighed out - this had surprisingly turned out how he assumed it would.
He could see Gianna from the corner of his eyes, hear the sound of her heels already coming closer. [I Shit,] if she saw the woman in the state she was he'd have a lot to answer for. Gianna was like that at times, sometimes treating him like a young child that wouldn't comply. Funnily enough the woman was three years younger than him. Him twenty-eight, shy of the dirty thirties being told what to do and how to do it. Though young, she was the best at her job, born from a family of the industry. He'd no doubt in her work ethic.
"Look," he whispered as he started to wipe his hands off and get up, casually his leg had brushed against hers before he came to a stand. He bent over, his arms tensing as they pressed against the table. He was close then, not wanting anyone to hear but from the outside the exchange could be seen as something [I friendly]. Licking his lips, the smell of his cologne now overpowering the sweet floral scent of the woman's, he continued, "I suggest you get used to how I talk or else you'll be blubbering every second of filming. Yeah?"
This was nice.
Time alone, no one calling her, no one ordering her around. no meetings, it was just her, alone on a bench seat by a table in the sun about to eat her food that she was craving for.
People were around, talking and being social but did not disturb the actress as they knew, she did iundeed like her privacy.
Privacy that was soon disturbed by a voice of man, a movement of a man opposite her.
[i "Mind if I sit?"]
[b "You have got to be joking..."] she replied, raising an eyebrow before she took, like Dimitri - took off her sunglasses as placed them down slowly upon the wooden table and looked straight ahead.
Food not getting colder as it already was, Emily watched as he pushed up his sleeves, showing off tattoo's - simply not going to take no for an answer.
So much for being alone.
There were thoughts in her mind though that slowlt crept in, wanting to know if there was ink on his body for real.
During his movies that she had seen, they either had been airbrushed out or by using CGI.
A thought she wanted to know and pushed aside as her hatred for him was more than lust....or so she thought.
[b "What do you want?.."] she spoke once more.
[i "Look, "I know, things aren't exactly peachy between us. However . . . I'm willing to try to be nice. If you, you know manage to behave. 'sides, there's nothing to hate me for anyways. Right?"]
With the rim of the bottle of water in her mouth that she was taking a sip from, Emily stopped at his words.
Keeping her eyes on Dimitri, Emily slowly moved the bottle back down onto the table.
[b "Me, behave? I wasn't the one who spilt my name over natonal televison and somewhat degraded me and my work ethic. If I choose to treat you like a smug prick, that you are..I have every right too.."]
Oh, the urge to splash water in his face.
[b "I have plenty, too hate you for..."] Emily replied, looking down, opening her meal and started to move the food around, trying to figure out where to start.
Dimitri finally spotted the woman, his eyes finding the peak of white at her lower back. He wondered if it'd be a good move to take a seat with the female and eat with her. A part of him screamed no, but then again, the other side of him thought maybe it would do them good. Gianna would tell him it was a good move on his end as far as press, they'd surely eat it all up and there was someone always on set desperate enough to send pictures to the magazines. You couldn't trust everyone, a lot of people would lie for any set amount and pictures were sometimes worth more than words.
Breathing out he decide he wouldn't be a pussy. 'sides, he was just saying hello and making sure she knew she couldn't get to him. Well, he'd try his hardest to remain in a decent mood and there was nothing she could say that would make him regret taking on this role. Finally, he stood before the woman, with how tall he was he'd to look down at the female, his figure blocking off the sun's bright rays.
"Mind if I sit?" he asked, though didn't wait for her permission mostly some due to the fact his hands grew tired and cold from holding his lunch. Taking a seat, long limbs stretched under the table. He took a quick sip of the cold drink, wincing some as it went down. His hands reached up to place his sunglasses on the table. He'd already started eating his sandwich, popping a couple of fries into his mouth. He dusted his hands some, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt. It'd gotten too hot now and he wished he wore a short sleeve instead. Thick strong forearms gleamed in the sunlight, the tattoo peeking from the inside of his wrist. Often it was hidden by CGI or covered with makeup when in films. The tattoos were from a life before when he'd been more set on proving he could be a bad boy. Now famous, he did have to maintain some kind of a positive image. Though, when shirtless, other tattoos could be seen and a fair few amount of woman didn't care what the man had on his body, that'd proven evident after his last magazine photoshoot.
Sighing out Dimitri looked up to meet the woman's eyes, green orbs peeking through long dark eyelashes like shiny emerald stones. "Look," Dimitri started, trying to choose his words carefully in fear he would say something that could possibly start a fight - hell maybe if he said something she didn't like she'd toss that bottle of water in his direction. "I know, "he began again, "things aren't exactly peachy between us. However . . . I'm willing to try to be nice. If you, you know manage to behave." He smirked, though joking somewhat at least. He could already see a few eyes on them, trying to avert their gaze but keep their ears wide open hoping to lock in on any piece of gossip. Surely, she would play nice. "'sides, there's nothing to hate me for anyways. Right?"
When it comes to the Winthorpe fans, they are brutal if anything is said or done to hurt or emotionally destroy the Actress.
Emily could remember the night like it was yesterday. After the verbal slamming of the Actor, Emily took to social media and she stayed on it fora good hour, reading each and every single twitter and instagram posts from her fans - being brash and giving him a mean wake up call to Dimitri.
She loved her fans.
Millions of them defending her and yet of course there was the occasional one who defended the man's opinion.
That's all that it was.
Standing in line, hands on either side of her thighs, she tapped and tapped - waiting for her turn to order food.
She was hungry.
Her tummy growled and her blood boiled by being so close to the man that made her mad.
[b "Just get the food...and walk away..."] she muttered to herself quietly, stepping forward as one person would get there order and wander off to the picnic like tables to eat.
Ordering a Cajun salad and a bottle of water, Emily reached out - grabbed the food and stepped out of line and wandered to the seat outside in the sun.
Looking around from behind her sunglasses before placing that ass on a seat.
Fingers through her long hair, sitting up straight - letting the rim of the tight pants creating a pocket loose against her lower back that one could veiw the white lace thong if they looked down.
She would try to distance herself from him throughout this movie.
Only be near him when she had too - even then, she knew it was going to be a struggle.
Dimitri could remember the night of the interview fondly and sure, the male had a few too many in the backroom while waiting to go on set. He hadn't meant, entirely at least, to mention the female by name. But, what could he do? Once the words had stumbled out of his mouth like a drunk from a bar at last call, he knew it was too late and he couldn't take them back. Anyways, he was always a man of his word. Sometimes he had no filter and found his words did have some negative effect on people. Let's just say not that many people were fans of him the following night, her fans dashing to their social media apps to bad mouth him in his comments. Hell, there were even front-page stories about them in magazines, some outright lies - he'd been one of her latest lovers and they'd had a nasty breakup and other wild tales like that that made absolutely no sense. He snorted at the thought, the idea of being anywhere in Emily's space with such intimacy. A roll of his eyes though and he recognized that was the very act of this movie.
They'd be sharing space, touching and kissing, press tours and the such. He swallowed thickly, not sure just how well this would work out. He knew though, this was about his craft and his career. He wouldn't let the little prissy woman stop him from a chance at greatness. Though he admitted that already he was unsure how to navigate around her, and even seeing her standing in line for catering was stressing him out. He'd need a cigarette. Trying not to make direct eye contact with the woman he couldn't help but admire her beauty, the way her hips curved some as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other as the line moved. His eyes traced the length of her spine as it peeked from the crop top she wore. Even from afar, his hands to his side he could tell how smooth she was and damnit if he didn't wonder what it was like for the many lovers that had graced her bed, had the chance to hold the female close.
Smirking some he continued until he was at the front register. He'd order something light, a sandwich and some fries, making sure to add a drink on the side. He began toward the tables that were set up, nodding and waving to few of the cast mates. He'd wondered if he'd see the female, maybe give in to being cordial, say a quick hello.
Their meeting earlier had been a bit brief and cold, even with the small sneaks he threw her way. Pushing his sunglasses up to hide in his hair he searched for the familiar head of blonde hair. "Nice," he whispered to himself," just be nice."
The lines that were re-written were actually alot better than the first time round.
How she would portray them when the camera's rolling was one thing but right now - there in that room doing the reading, all Emily did was speak the words, however halfway through - she made it sound a little more serious, as there was some truth to it.
Dimitri, humilated her on live television with answering a question that made her, and the public gasp.
It wasn't an answer that was simply shrugged off or an [i "I dont know"] or [i "I cannot think of anyone.."]
Instead, Dimitri had the balls to open his gob and speak Emily's name as the one person who would most like not to work with.
People knew some details on her life.
The failed marriage that only lasted a good 72 days.
The numerous dates and lovers she had taken but luckily no one knew about her alcohol dependency, the drugs she often took to make her feel better and make her forget about her past before she became America's sweetheart.
Everyone had their flaws, unfortunatly for Emily, it was always 1st page news.
Leaning back after her lines were over, Emily looked across the table and stared upon Dimitri who took it upon himself to continue straight after, like a good actor should.
However, his voice and the way he spoke those words made her eyes narrow as she knew, there was definate truth behind his speech.
This movie was going to be uncomfortable.
How did the crew and the director honestly expect the two to get along after all the bullshit?
Emily was a professional - she would find a way and have to endure it.
[i "You want to be miserable, that's your choice, but I'm not going to let you lie about your feelings."]
Raising an eyebrow, Emily grew to dislike the man more and more but there was something about him that made her feel....something that was strange and foreign to her.
Turning head, breaking the gaze - Emily looked at John. [b "Coffee. This is going to take a while and all my effort not to lunge at the smug bastard. Maybe just a dash of Kaluha.."] she spoke in a whisper, John nodding and slowly getting up to get what his client asked for. Emily was one to get ugly when pissed off or mad and John always did everything in his power to make her happy.
A couple of hours had gone by and finally, the reading was done for the time being.
Eily held her own and was a good girl although the urges of kicking Dimitri's ass for being unkind were stll there.
The movie, Emily knew was going to be a hit and win awards, but at what cost?
The ongoing hatred for the two was not going to make this easy.
Standing up and out from her seat by the round table, it was not long until Emily without John made her way outside to the Catering truck.
John was speaking for the Director.
Standing infront of the truck, Emily bit her lower lip and stood there, waiting her turn in line - happy but the happiness soon faded when Dimitri came into veiw - having the same idea for wanting food as she.
Emily rolled her eyes and looked away, waiting for her turn patiently.
This could not get any worse.
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