Deborah Mello - Passionate Premiere

A commotion at the restaurant’s entrance drew her attention. She looked up to see Guy Boudreaux as he was accosted by an eager female fan. He stopped to sign an autograph, and there was no missing his welcoming demeanor as he posed for a picture with a family of five, chatting with the group as if they were old friends.

Dahlia’s eyes widened with interest. Guy Boudreaux was imposing in stature, standing just over six feet tall. Dressed in a black silk suit and white dress shirt opened at the collar, he was quite the male specimen. His chest was broad, flanked by wide shoulders. His legs were long, and the slacks he wore nicely complemented the hard, full curves of a very high backside. His complexion was dark caramel with the faintest undertone of buttercream, warm and delectable as it stretched taut over clearly defined muscles. A crown of black dreadlocks hung past his shoulders, and just a hint of facial hair, the beginnings of a neatly trimmed mustache and goatee, complemented his chiseled facial features. He was a Greek Adonis with an artistic aura, his look a nice blend of bohemian flair and classic styling. It was clear that he wore his confidence like a neon blanket draped over his torso, bright and abundant. The man was handsome beyond words, and Dahlia felt her breath catch in her throat as he crossed the room in her direction.

“Ms. Morrow, Guy Boudreaux,” he said as he extended a large hand in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Dahlia lifted her gaze to meet his, feeling overwhelmingly starstruck as words failed her. She nodded as he clasped her hand beneath his, shaking it firmly. His palm was silky smooth as it glided over hers like a sensual kiss.

“May I sit down?” Guy asked, amusement crossing his expression, her hand still trapped beneath his.

Dahlia took a deep breath as she nodded her head, slowly pulling her hand from his. Her fingers tingled, the sensation sweeping like wildfire through her body. It was intense and disturbing, and she tried to stall the feelings by clasping both of her hands together in her lap. “Excuse me,” she said, clearing her throat. “Of course, have a seat, Mr. Boudreaux.”

She eyed him keenly as he slid into the leather-covered booth beside her.

“Please, call me Guy. I hope I’m not late,” he said, his gaze still locked with hers, a brilliant smile of pearl-white teeth beaming at her.

She shook her head, desperate to clear the cloud that had mysteriously consumed her. “No, you’re right on time actually,” she finally answered. “And it’s definitely a pleasure to meet you. Your reputation has preceded you.”

“Yours, as well,” Guy said with a light chuckle. “Congratulations on your recent victory.”

Dahlia smiled sweetly. “Thank you. I hope you know that I’m looking to do that again with this new project.”

Guy gestured ever so slightly with his head, a warm smile filling his face. “I’m thinking that won’t be a problem. It’s a great story, the script is on point and with me as the lead character, it can’t help but be a success,” he said teasingly.

Dahlia chuckled warmly. “So, tell me what you really think,” she said.

“Seriously, this project has great potential, and I think I’d be a wonderful asset to your vision. But if I can ask you one question?”

“Of course.”

“Tell me more about the story. When I read it I got the sense that there was some background history there that wasn’t being told.”

Dahlia smiled, her eyes locking with his. She nodded her head slowly, her thoughts drifting ever so briefly. Guy was right, and his intuition gave her reason to pause.

“There is history there. My history. The lead characters are modeled after my grandparents. They met in 1935 when my grandmother was barely fourteen and my grandfather was sixteen. They were inseparable from that moment on. Both of their parents had forbidden them to be together and they were defiant, doing exactly what they wanted instead. And when Granny became pregnant at a young age, it set off a chain of events that neither of them were really prepared for.”

“And they really did meet in a dance hall?”

Dahlia nodded her head. “My grandmother was an extraordinary dancer. She loved the music and being out on a dance floor. And my grandfather loved her and whatever it was that she loved.”

“Your grandparents, are they still living?”

She took a deep breath, a hint of tears misting her eyes. “No. He passed on when I was just a little girl, and my grandmother died last year. She was ninety-one.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Dahlia shrugged her shoulders as she took another deep breath. The memory of losing her beloved grandmother still haunted her. The woman’s passing had been expected; the family had sat vigil for almost a week in one of the best hospice facilities in the city. But even the knowing hadn’t been able to minimize the tremendous hurt that had completely devastated Dahlia when the moment had come.

There was no missing the emotion that passed over Dahlia’s face. Guy found himself taken aback by her expression. The pain of it felt like a needle prick through his heart, and in that moment he would have done anything to take the hurt from her eyes and make everything well again. He resisted the temptation to reach out and touch her, to strum his fingers against the back of her hand and down the length of her arm.

As if reading his thoughts, Dahlia pulled her hands back into her lap. She met his gaze, and his stare was like a soothing balm. Guy smiled. The warmth of it seared through her like a bolt of lightning. She gasped lightly.

Clearing her throat, she finally said, “I am still fine-tuning the script. I’ve also felt like there was something that was missing in the story line, something I haven’t been able to define yet.”

Dahlia then tossed him a smile of her own. “What I can tell you is that when they met, my grandmother had snuck out of the house to see Nat King Cole. He was performing at that dance hall. He was in his teens himself, his own career just beginning.”

“Nat King Cole! Amazing!”

“Granny thought so, too. She was enamored with the man and always said that Nat would be her second husband if my granddaddy didn’t act right.”

Guy chuckled softly. “Good to know. ‘When I Fall in Love’ and ‘Dream a Little Dream of Me’ were two of my favorites of his.”

Dahlia’s smile widened, pleasantly surprised that he was even familiar with the late crooner’s bibliography.

Taking note of the astonished look in her eyes, Guy laughed heartily. “I am an old soul,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Interesting.” Dahlia leaned forward in her seat, her elbows coming to rest on the table as she clasped her hands beneath her chin. She sat in quiet deliberation for a brief moment before continuing, “I’ll be honest with you, Guy, it’s looking like the studios are not going to back this project. Not as I had hoped they would. It seems that I will be producing this film independently, on a significantly lower budget, but I intend for it to rival any mainstream film production out there.”

“So, what you’re telling me is that I won’t be making a million plus for this role?”

“Not even close. Still interested?”

Guy met her gaze and held it, intently studying the delicate lines of her features. Dahlia Morrow was a stunning woman. Even more beautiful than the magazine images of her that he’d seen. She had beautiful eyes, dark seductive orbs that a man could lose himself in if he were so inclined. Her full lips parted ever so slightly, her tongue snaking past to quickly lick the line of her mouth. When she did he felt an unexpected surge of heat through his groin. He suddenly reached for her bottle of water and took a deep swig.