I thought about what we did on the plane. What a turn-on it was. How Max had done something so private in front of me, and how he had gotten me to do the same. I’d never let my walls down that much. Never shared something to intimate—so fucking hot!—with someone before.
When Max finally woke up, we lay there together on the cool sheets, with our bodies providing a soft warmth. I could have stayed like that all day, maybe all weekend, but Max was eager to get me out in the city and show me around.
We had brunch at an outside French café. We went to the Museum of Modern Art, walked past Radio City Music Hall, took a stroll through Central Park, and had a late lunch at a small Italian place, in the basement of a building, completely tourist free. It was just like the NYC Italian restaurants I’d seen in so many movies about mobsters. I didn’t see anyone who looked suspiciously like they stepped off the set of The Godfather or Goodfellas. At one point I started to say something about that, but Max gave me a wide-eyed look that told me to wait until we were out of the place.
Later, back at the hotel, Max said he wanted to take me to a Broadway show.
“Seriously?” I think my voice went up an octave or two, making me sound like a kid who’d been promised something.
Max laughed. “Get dressed.”
“I didn’t bring anything nice.”
He walked over to the armoire, opened the two doors, and showed me a gorgeous white dress.
“I ordered this for you yesterday.”
“I was with you. How did you get it in here without me noticing?”
Max grabbed the hanger, removed the dress, and walked over to me. “I had them bring it up here. I’m just glad you weren’t curious enough to look in there at some point.”
“It’s beautiful.”
I leaned in to kiss him. “Come on. Let’s take a quick shower and get dressed or we’ll be late.”
We had a hard time taking a quick shower together. Max lathered me up, spending quite a bit of unequal time on my breasts. I commented on it and he plead guilty.
I gave him the same treatment, only mine was probably more cruel: I had him hard as a rock by the time we were rinsing off.
“I want to fuck you right now,” he said.
With my hand wrapped around his fully erect cock, I shook my head. “Later.”
“Tease.”
I was smiling as he kissed me. “If I tease you now, maybe we’ll get back here later and you can fuck me senseless.”
“You shouldn’t challenge me,” he said.
But he took the challenge, and held off. A part of me wanted him to pick me up, take me to the bed and do me hard and fast. But I was sure it would happen later.
The dress fit perfectly. With Max in his tux, we looked like we were going to dinner at the White House or Buckingham Palace.
The limo ride was short. Lucky for us. What little time we had in the car was spent teasing each other more. I almost suggested to Max that we skip the Broadway play and just ride around NYC, having sex in the limo. I don’t know what got into me at some point in the day, but I was as horny as I could remember being in a long time.
The limo pulled to a stop. I hadn’t even been looking around, so I didn’t notice where Max was actually bringing me.
Hundreds of people were gathered beneath the marquee. Flashbulbs were going off like bursts of lightning. The path from the curb to the entrance of the building was a red carpet.
“Sorry,” Max said. “I lied about the play.”
I looked up at the marquee, saw the movie name, and in large letters: “PREMIER TONIGHT!”
Max took my hand in his. “I thought I’d surprise you by taking you to your first red carpet movie premier.”
Wow. I’d had high hopes for seeing my first Broadway play, but this was even better.
Before I could process it all, the limo door was opened by a guy in a tux. Max stepped out, taking me by the hand and helping me out after him.
“Just keep up with me,” he said, and started down the red carpet.
My eyes were flitting from left to right, looking at all the paparazzi and onlookers. They of course had no idea who I was, so all the camera flashes must have been for Max. But then I remembered he told me wasn’t “that kind” of famous. He wasn’t of great interest to the entertainment press. As successful as he was, he was known among them, but he was no Steven Spielberg or Quentin Tarantino in terms of fame in the public eye. And, from all that he’d confessed about being sick of the business, he was glad it was that way.
The frenzy of cameras wasn’t as great as it was for the couple ahead of us and when I got inside I realized why. It was Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban. There were other stars milling around in the lobby, and Max introduced me to a few of them, including Kiefer Sutherland. I had to pretend that I knew what they were talking about when Max brought up something about the show 24, but I’m not sure Mr. Sutherland cared either way.
Mostly, my head was buzzing as I scanned the lobby and spotted other famous people I’d only previously seen on TV. At one point, when I saw Morgan Freeman, I squeezed Max’s hand so tightly he asked if I needed to use the bathroom or something.
“No!” I said, hitting his arm. And more quietly, I said, “Look who’s over there.”
“Olivia,” Max said, without a hint of condescension in his voice, “if you’re going to work in this business you’re going to have to get used to seeing famous faces. In fact, it would do you some good to learn how to be cordial without letting them know you’re impressed. Trust me.”
He knew what he was talking about. He wouldn’t have made it this far in the business if he didn’t. Plus, I saw him put that advice into action the rest of the time we spend in the lobby drinking champagne and mingling. I stayed with Max the entire time. Or, more accurately, he tethered me to himself with a firm lock on my hand. I guess he didn’t want me wandering off and making a fan-girl fool of myself. Again, he knew what he was doing.
“Do you know all these people?” I asked later, after the movie, as we attended the after-party in the grand lobby.
“Some.”
“Even the ones you haven’t worked with.”
He sipped from his White Russian. “You meet people lots of different ways. By the way, I’d like to compliment you on leaving your phone in your purse all night. That shows a lot of self-control.”
I squinted my eyes at him. “Maybe I’ll whip it out now and start snapping pictures.”