Page 33 of Forbidden (Wicked Billionaires #1)

STORM

“Okay, so get this,” I say. “I’m guessing the Heads of Departments, would not tell you this information. Why? Because some of the production team, or the crew bosses, would give them hell for it. Basically, I heard this, and I saw it happen. Clearly.”

Lorenzo rubs his jaw. “And?”

“Look, I heard half a dozen crew members talk on a couple of sets. I’m no pro, but I’ve seen several hours of shooting.”

“Get to the point, baby.”

“Look closely, and you will see crew morale is low. Many of the crew seem broken, and downtrodden. Few seem positive and into it. It’s weird.

They are moving slow, and many seem exhausted.

I get that they do long hours, but the energy on set, looks toxic, Lorenzo.

There are also two scowling old production guys who look like burnt out, old… ”

“Bastards?”

“Bastards,” I agree. “They are handing out paper.”

“They’re called Call sheets.”

“And they are probably line… ”

“Line producers.”

“Right,” I say. “Anyway, the two look over it, pissed, whatever. They may be setting the toxic tone and creating negative energy. The crew look like they have no spark. No one looks happy, and they look shattered, Lorenzo.”

Our eyes meet, and Lorenzo nods.

“Just walk around for thirty minutes, say nothing, watch and listen.”

Lorenzo grins at me.

“What?” I ask.

“I like it when you boss me around.”

“Screw you,” I say before whacking him. “Now, go do your job.”

We walk back through the various sets, and I watch Lorenzo from a distance. He keeps his distance from crew, and he silently observes.

I tag along behind him, and I stay as quiet as a mouse. We hear camera, lighting, wardrobe, and other crew talk amongst themselves, and also complain.

Complain about all kinds of mistakes, bad energy, and problems.

The crew appear to dislike the key production people, who are running the shoot, but who work under the producer.

Who knows if it is just the two old timers, and if they really are the line producers. Who knows, if they are actually Arseholes, or total pros, but exhausted.

Finally, Lorenzo winks at me, and he smiles.

We walk back towards the main production offices near the studio front. To where the producer, on set writer, and production team work.

As we do, Lorenzo seems more light, and he walks faster. “I knew there was a good reason to keep you around.”

I look over. “Baby, you keep me close, because you are falling.”

“What?” he asks as if he misheard me.

“Falling.”

Lorenzo whips his head around, and our eyes meet. It’s a deadly serious look, and I have gone way over the line.

We have no time to dive into that, because we have just reached the main doors of the production offices, and crew are exiting.

Inside, I follow a silent Lorenzo. As people see him, they almost come to attention.

The place is a hive of activity, and I watch Lorenzo find his primary contact, the actual producer.

The man Lorenzo hired to actually make and oversee the movie.

As they speak, I hear someone call the movie director with a radio. He is on set, but someone else speaks loud explaining the director will be here in ten.

A dozen crew including Lorenzo and I enter a large boardroom. Storyboards and location photos cover walls and everyone sits.

The movie schedule covers an entire wall, and I sit nervously in the corner, trying to mind my own business. As I eat a muffin from the catering table, I try to hide my head in the old leather book. It’s hard, because the drama in the room is electric, and intense.

After the nervous, and exhausted director walks in, he sits, muddy boots and all. He is handed a fresh coffee, and slumps.

Lorenzo is calm, sharp, and cool. Seated, he outlines what they all know are past scheduling issues. He next explains his concerns about the overall shooting speed, but he does not target the director, or his shooting style.

In fact, he complements the director, for trying to make a great movie. He also explains he loves the rushes he has seen in NYC, and from the edit team.

Lorenzo stands and paces, and he carefully outlines what we have both clearly witnessed. He explains he wants production staff looked into, and fast. The young director, and Lorenzo seem to have a shared energy, and I can tell they are on the same page.

They both want to make a great picture, and they both want problems out of the way. The young director stands, and he paces anxiously, and animatedly.

I can tell he is fried, but finally he comes clean.

He agrees production staff are problematic. And he explains some of the other crew members, have wanted to say something for weeks.

He agrees enough is enough. “I just want to shoot on a happy productive set.”

The director looks exhausted. Even emotional.

Lorenzo puts his hand on the director’s shoulder, forcing him to see him, and calm. “Thanks, buddy, and we’re only here because of you. This is your show, not mine. We’ve got this, no more obstacles.”

Lorenzo and the director hug, and my heart surges. It’s nice to see Lorenzo protect another.

It’s a side of him, I’ve only seen a few times. A human side, and a caring side.

After Lorenzo pulls the director’s chair out, he tells him to sit. The director does, and Lorenzo rests his protective hand back on his shoulder. In effect, showing the producer, and entire team, who he cares about, and who is actually making the darned movie.

Lorenzo paces slowly, and he makes his demands.

He demands the producer finds the line producers straight after the meeting. That he then hits them hard, and gives them a final warning. If they do not change their attitude, and stop poisoning the set and crew’s energy, there will be immediate changes.

“And I’ll fly back, fire them on the spot, and any others,” Lorenzo says eyeing everyone in the room.

The producer is silent, and he looks terrified. I want to curl up and die.

“I can take over the entire shoot, as you all know. I can bring in a fresh team, as per clause 30A. of the production company agreement. I do not want to do it, but I will if I have to.”

I look over, and Lorenzo is cold, hard and in control.

He is firmly looking at the producer, and the head of production. The two people in control of the movie.

“We are here for two things only. To assist the director, and his chosen creative team on set. And to make a great movie. End of story.”

The producer, head of production, and others look shaken. Finally, heads nod, and crew mumble.

Lorenzo clears the energy like a seasoned pro, and he thanks them all. As they stand to leave, he shakes their hands, and rebuilds energy. The last to leave is the exhausted director, and just before he exits, Lorenzo steps close to him. “Are you okay?”

The director nods, and Lorenzo can sense his frustrations. Even I can.

“You’ll be okay, and call me if you have any problems.” The exhausted director looks full of emotion. Lorenzo already told me, directors have to operate on four hours of sleep, per night, and for months.

As Lorenzo hands the director his private card, he speaks sincerely, and low. “Call me. Anytime you want to talk, alright? Especially, if anyone gets in your way.”

The director nods, and walks out of the door.

“One last thing.”

The director turns with his tattered script folder, and mud splattered jacket.

“You’re doing a great job. I love the footage, and I love your work. Don’t ever forget we’re only here for you. Just knock it out of the park, buddy.”

The director nods, and he looks recharged, and encouraged. I feel proud of my man, our eyes meet and hold.

We are driven back to Lorenzo’s jet, and he exits fast. As he opens my door, he tilts his head. “So, you’re not just looks!”

“Huh,” I say. “I’m looks, tits, ass, sass, and brains.”

Lorenzo grabs me, and he throws me over his shoulder.

I squeal, and I kick my legs as I try to find balance. My face is upside down and it’s a weird view as we walk up the jet’s stairs.

When Lorenzo is in one of his rare playful moods, I know he will now want to take me long, slow and hard. It’s only fair, because I’ve likely saved him a small fortune.

After the brute has his way with me, we fly for NYC. Again, we take turns piloting and being copilot. Lorenzo got three new screenplays from Chris Remington, his talent agent pal, and they are supposedly hot, so they need reading fast.

If they are as good as Chris implied, Lorenzo may need to buy them, and move quickly. That means reading, and as soon as possible. As we fly, we rotate jobs. If Lorenzo is not reading the screenplays, he is flying, and when he is flying and piloting, I read the movie scripts aloud to him.

They’re actually great, and I enjoy imagining the movies as we talk, fly and discuss scenes. A couple of times Lorenzo gets distracted, and he asks me to change jobs. To even touch myself, so he can watch. I tell him to focus on flying, but once, I agree, and I put on a show.

I enjoy watching him, watch me, but I also like him being unable to touch me for once. I like his hot dark eyes, and tense jaw, especially when my legs are spread, and my feet are placed on his jet’s console.

As I come loud and long, with one hand between my legs, and the other on a breast, the plane wobbles, and Lorenzo loses focus.

We are just coming into JFK, and one of the busiest airports in the world.

As I pant, and look over wild eyed, I reach over to my man. He leans towards me, and he licks my wet finger. I giggle, and catch my breath. It’s nice to be home.

After landing at JFK airport, we drive to Lorenzo’s Manhattan penthouse in his Bentley.

Inside, we stack our travel bags, and more things, in a pile.

We then carry them to the roof and into the chopper.

We’ve decided to spend the weekend away, before work next week, and we will fly north to his home in The Hamptons.

After placing fresh food from our kitchen into a large cool bag, we walk back up, and we slide the huge bag into the chopper’s back section.

Lorenzo then flies us up the coast.

After a gentle flight along The Hampton beach, we bank around his home, and Lorenzo puts us down on his helipad.

It’s good to be here, even if the whirlwind of a week, was spectacular.

Inside, we climb out of our travel clothes, and we put on loose, comfy stay at home clothes.

I look forward to a quiet weekend of beach walks, more reading, more time together. Also, more sex. Maybe a few more lessons from my teacher too, and him making me come for him.

Again, and… Again and… Again.