Chapter 1
I couldn’t have been more frazzled as I pulled into the studio parking lot. Running late for such an important meeting was not a good thing and the thought of what would happen if I lost that business for the law firm made my stomach crawl. I played out my introduction in my head. Mr. Kent, I am Rebecca Rowland, but you can call me Becca. I wasn’t sure why I had gotten myself so nervous about an introduction, but men like Marshall Kent were legendary in the greater LA area and it was only through my awesome friend, Sophia Leon, whom I met through a Jane Austen and Women’s Literature book club meeting, that I had this opportunity. It was great for me and my dad’s law firm, which I recently joined straight out of law school. I couldn’t turn down the offer for the meeting, despite how nervous I was. A-list actors like Marshall Kent, was out of my league. They were always surrounded by a beauty of such perfection that these women were considered the “model” or the epitome of women’s beauty. I, on the other hand, did not have time for all of that…having been putting in all-nighters for the last four years in to graduate a year early from college to go straight into law school, and graduate at the top of my class. But, I didn’t want to represent Sophia poorly either.
I was getting tired of waiting patiently by the closed gate to LA’s latest movie and production studio, Foothill Studios West Coast Division. It was owned and run by Mr. Kent, the fairly popular actor turned movie maker mogul. Who knew a pretty face like him would want to take a stab at running a major operation like a studio, and get behind the camera. He’d been wildly successful thus far, even winning an award for his documentary, Amber Distortion, at the Venice Film Festival the year before. Aside from an interesting Hollywood tale, one that took him from rags to riches after it was discovered that he was the son of eccentric billionaire, Hugh Henley; Marshall was best noted for being a very alluring and sexy hunk of a playboy. He made the Most Beautiful People list by that popular entertainment magazine at least twice, and he was the face for Sophia Leon’s family’s fashion line for men called Sergio, aptly named after Sophia’s recently married hot former billionaire playboy brother.
Just thinking of playboys made me frustrated, reminding me of Brandon—my ex. I’d loved him so much and had even started planning the wedding I thought was in my future when we finished law school. Within one month of graduation he dumped me and professed that he just wanted to be friends. Friends! Who had he been kidding? Just his name still ticked me off. Maybe it was a good thing that he had just popped into my mind at that moment. It might be fate telling me to be sure that I didn’t fall victim to the infamous charms of Marshall Kent if he should make a move. That type of distraction would be too much. Besides, focusing on my new career as an attorney needed to be my priority. I needed new clients way more than I needed the distraction of a man.
Today’s opportunity to help grow my father’s law firm, Rowland Law Practice, with a lucrative and wealthy client was exciting. Running late due to another moron tempting to flee the cops with a high speed chase down the Los Angeles interstate was not a good start. What is taking that guard so long? I’ve got to get him moving. I rolled down my window to poke my head out, hoping the security guard would get the not so subtle hint that I was in a hurry.
He walked up to me, not looking the least bit enthusiastic. “Name?”
“Rebecca Rowland here to meet with Marshall Kent.”
“ID please.” I grabbed my Gucci purse and took out my wallet, handing my driver’s license and a business card to the security guard.
“I’ll be back to confirm, ma’am,” the guard said. He started walking back to the building where he monitored the gate from.
I looked down at my long red fingernails to make sure they weren’t chipped at all and tapped them patiently on my little Audi A4S convertible steering wheel. After a quick appraisal in the mirror I was glad to see that my chestnut hair didn’t look crazy on the outside because I was feeling a bit crazy on the inside, trying to regain my composure. My eyes had an intense look to them, one that was familiar when I was nervous. They always got darker green when I was excited about something. It made it pretty hard to keep secrets when I wanted to as a child.
As I waited I kept reminding myself to take extra caution today. I wouldn’t have necessarily thought anything about it before, but after my call with Sophia on the way over here I couldn’t help but make sure I did. She’d hinted that perhaps Marshall and I could be more than business acquaintances. I’d smiled when she said that, knowing that my friend was the eternal romantic and matchmaker. She couldn’t help herself. I’d put the axe to that suggestion right away on the telephone, not wanting to go there.
Although I have never personally met Marshall Kent in person I did briefly recall Sophia being attracted to him in the past, calling him rocking sexy. Now that she was in a relationship with a guy named Andre she was off the market and passing on rights to pursuing Mr. Kent to someone else. I’m sure it wouldn’t be hard for her to find a taker either. I’ll admit that she must be decent at matchmaking though because our mutual friend, Mandi, had just married Sophia’s brother Sergio—who was, as I stated before, another well noted playboy.
Come on, where are you, I thought, looking for the slow paced guard. I had to get myself focused on business. I needed to land this deal and anything short of obtaining Marshall Kent for a client would be a failure.
The security guard finally came back, handing me my ID and business card with a polite smile. “You are good to go, Ms. Rowland. You’ll go straight ahead until you see a street marked Amber Way and then turn right. There’s a two story building at the very end of it with a fountain in front of it. Just park there and go in. Mr. Kent will be expecting you.”
“Thank you,” I said, barely giving him time to move away before I sped off. I looked at the clock on my dash and saw that I was now twenty minutes late. Thankfully Mr. Kent had agreed to see me still. I wished I could have zipped through the studio grounds, but there were people, carts, and props all over the place. People were buzzing and moving about. It was definitely a busy and action packed studio—very impressive.
I found the road I needed to turn right on and immediately saw the home at the end of it. It was a large California style cottage that looked nicer than many people’s homes…a Frank Lloyd Wright design. All the main offices for the studio must be in there. It didn’t look like a set prop or anything like that.