LITMIR.BIZ

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having problems now?”

      “No, everything’s fine, great.”

      Kelly’s eyes narrowed fractionally; then she relaxed, glancing over at the dancing water fountain next to the restaurant. “You know, we have known each other a long time,” she said, leaning back in her chair and looking at Sabrina. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you, but did you know that every time you lie, there’s this little muscle by the corner of your eye that starts to twitch?”

      Sabrina choked on her drink.

      “What’s going on, Pantolini? Something’s up.”

      “Nothing’s up.”

      “Boy, look at that thing go,” Kelly said with enjoyment, and began digging in her purse. “I know I’ve got a mirror in here somewhere. You oughtta take a look. It’s really something.”

      Sabrina scowled at her. “I get the idea.”

      “So?”

      “I just had some problems lining up a director. Mine bolted for another project before we had him locked in.”

      “Are you going to be able to find someone else in time?”

      Sabrina chewed on her lip. “That’s where the problem comes in. My uncle Gus came up with someone, which was a good thing since I’d scoured the town and couldn’t find anybody.”

      “Why do I want to say uh-oh?”

      “It’s Stef Costas.”

      Kelly blinked at her. “Stef?”

      “Stef.”

      “The Greek god? Are you out of your mind?”

      “It’s okay, Kelly.”

      “Rina, there has to be someone else around. You can’t work with this guy. You talk about not letting your friends go near your cousin with a ten-foot pole, what about this?”

      “It’s history, Kelly, eight years ago. It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Sabrina muttered.

      “Are you sure of that? Don’t forget what he put you through. I haven’t. I was the shoulder you cried on.”

      And Sabrina would never stop being grateful for it. “I was nineteen then. I’ve gotten smarter. I can work with the guy without letting old news get in the way.”

      Kelly gave her a level look. “I hope you’re right.”

      “It’s business, that’s all. If I’ve learned nothing else since working for Uncle Gus it’s that you get the job done, no matter what.” Sabrina’s voice was shaded with intensity. “You don’t let anything get in the way of the job, especially nothing personal.”

      “Nothing personal? He broke your heart.”

      “Look,” Sabrina’s voice softened. “I appreciate your being concerned, but it’s okay, really. We set some ground rules. He knows I’m in charge.”

      “You sure about that? Because it would be a really bad idea to be going into this thinking that you’re going to rewrite history or something. Sexual politics never got anyone anywhere.”

      “Trust me, the only thing I’m thinking about is getting this pilot done the best way I know how. As far as I’m concerned, Stef Costas is just another person on the set.”

      Kelly shook her head. “Sure. And denial is a river in Egypt.”

      5

      “SO WHAT GOT YOU interested in teaching lap dancing?” Sabrina sat on a couch next to a ripe redhead named Cherry Devine, ignoring the lights and the microphone dangling overhead. “I mean, if you teach wives and girlfriends to do this for their significant others, isn’t that ultimately going to cut into your clientele?”

      The lush stripper threw her head back and laughed. “Honey, the guys who come to see me are looking for a pro, not someone they really have to deal with.” Her red silk robe gaped open with a studied carelessness to display the lingerie—and the soft skin—beneath. The camera angle worked, Sabrina decided, giving a nod to Stef. It made Cherry the sole focus, so that they could edit down to just comments rather than Q and A in postproduction.

      Stef gave a quick hand signal to the cameraman to zoom in just slightly. Black-eyed and intense, his dark hair curling onto the collar of his denim shirt, Stef looked calm and in command. He also looked outrageously sexy, Sabrina thought. Which was something she had to stop noticing, and pronto.

      “How did you wind up in lap dancing?”

      Cherry dangled a cigarette from her fingers with innate theatricality. “I like showing off my body. Being a stripper is one way to make a living at it.”

      “It doesn’t bother you to be on stage naked with a room full of men watching you?” The question wasn’t part of the script, but Sabrina followed her instincts.

      Cherry’s laugh was husky and confident. “When I’m up on that stage, I own the room. Every man with a pulse wants me. I’m the one in control.” She blew a stream of smoke toward the ceiling and glanced appraisingly at Stef. “Being able to get a man hot is the most powerful feeling in the world.”

      “So teach us how it’s done,” Sabrina suggested, resisting the sudden urge to grind her teeth.

      Cherry stood and eased her robe off one shoulder. “It’ll be my pleasure.”

      The red and gold living room was crowded with the six couples who’d come for her class, as well as the film crew. “Okay, each couple, pull up a chair. Guys, take a seat. Ladies, stand nearby,” she said, setting a straight-backed chair in the center of the living room to demonstrate.

      Sabrina moved over by Stef. “Aren’t you going to move in with the handheld to get footage on some of these people?” She kept her voice low.

      “In good time.”

      “How much time do you think we have?” she asked.

      “Look, if we move around too much now, we’re going to draw their attention. Right now, we stay in one place, they’ll start relaxing and you can get some good candid footage. Just calm down and let me direct, all right?”

      Sabrina stared at him a moment, then subsided, turning her attention back to Cherry.

      “My usual assistant isn’t here,” Cherry said, “which means I don’t have anyone to demonstrate on. I could use a spare red-blooded male.” She rested a hand on the chair back and glanced around the room; then her eyes brightened. “You, big boy,” she crooked her finger at Stef, who stood next to his cameraman, Kev. “Have a seat.”

      “Sorry, I’m busy,” he said tersely.

      “Ooh, I just love masterful men,” she cooed, walking up to him to curl her fingers into his shirtfront. “Just give me a few minutes of your time. You don’t even have to do anything but sit.” She turned, still holding on to his shirt and started to tug him across the room.

      Emotions chased through Sabrina in rapid succession—confusion, shock, dismay, and a surprising spurt of jealousy. “He can’t do it,” she bit out. “Pick someone else.”

      Cherry looked back curiously at Sabrina. Her eyes flickered to Stef and then her gaze sharpened. “Ah.” Slowly, the corners of Cherry’s mouth drew up into a smile.

      “He can’t appear in the footage. He’s the director,” Sabrina persisted.

      Cherry gave her a glance. “Don’t worry, sugar pie, I’ll make sure I stay between him and the camera.”

      With a glance to make sure Stef was seated, she sashayed over to punch the Play button on the CD player. Rock music filled the room, not the slow bluesy number Sabrina had expected, but something a little faster, with a beat that thudded into her brain. There was something familiar

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