#definitely daveed

He came into the room, smiling, impossibly lighting up the entire room. You smiled tightly in return. Although he was much better looking in person, that was the problem; he was supposed to be Cyrano in this all-black retelling.  No amount of makeup could overcome his good looks. 

This was definitely going to be a disaster, but maybe you could salvage something.

You were seated next to Lee, who was playing Christian, and you were getting into him. His cocoa skin and light eyes were everything. It was quite distracting.

And that’s why you didn’t notice Daveed staring at you. He was seated on the other side of you, and shyly looking around the table, proud that this production was actually happening. Then his eyes lighted on you. 

He’d started off admiring how good your skin looked against the blue of your chambray shirt, from your cheek down your throat to your neck and down the placard where, surprise, he saw your breasts, nipples clearly visible through the gap in the buttons. You weren’t wearing a bra. Daveed quickly averted his eyes and cleared his throat. 

Halfway horrified at what he didn’t mean to see, Daveed was completely horrified that he could feel his heart beat faster at the sight. He was not here to be a creep, and as producer it was his job to make sure that you were protected from creeps such as he almost was. 

When you heard Daveed’s noise and tore yourself away from Lee’s dreamy eyes to look over to him, you locked on Daveed’s deep browns and your cheeks heated. You rolled your eyes to shake it off. He just continued to stare rudely, and you could tell that he was going to be full of himself.

“Did you need something?”  

You turned on your best unfriendly black hottie voice and Daveed felt as if he couldn’t sit at your table. His stomach tumbled, and then he remembered who he was.  He was the boss. It was his table.

He clenched his jaw, and then spoke to you.

“I was going to say hello and ask how your day has been so far, but it seems that someone pissed in your cereal this morning.”

“I see. Well, that’s not the case Mr. Diggs; you just interrupted my conversation with my co star...” 

You gestured toward Lee, who was pretending he couldn’t hear you two, head deep into his script.

Daveed’s eyes flickered over to Lee, then back to you.  He glared at you, and you felt the need to squirm in your seat.

“Ah. Well, I’m your other co-star, and the producer of this film…” 

You started shaking your head when he said that.  It was just as you thought.

Daveed stopped.

“What?”  

You just smirked at him. You had to be the most maddening person that he’d ever met in his life. He continued.

“Well, Ms. L/N, what I need is for you to focus and act as if you can fall in love with me at the appropriate time in the script. We may shoot scenes out of order, so that may come sooner rather than later. Since you seem to have a definite disdain for me, please decide quickly if you need to remain on my set.”

Daveed’s voice was low, but it rumbled through you, his command making your body betray you in the worst way. You definitely hated that and maybe even him.

“I know how a film production works, Mr. Diggs. And I am a professional.  I can act as if I love my worst enemy.” 

You glared at him, mouth open, breath coming fast with rage. Then you raised your adorable ass chin, ready for a fight. For some strange reason, a thrill ran up and down Daveed’s spine.

“And so, I can pretend to fall in love with you, you ass.”

You two stared at each other for a few seconds before you realized that everyone was watching you.  You both looked around the room and Daveed cleared his throat again.  You sat back in your seat, enraged.

“And we are remaking Cyrano de Bergerac, not Taming of the Shrew, so let’s shelve that for now.”  

You rolled your eyes as everyone else laughed. Did this man just call you a shrew? Oh hell no, you thought.

Daveed caught a glimpse of you through the shirt again and saw that your nipples were hard, pebbled and delectable.

But he willed the blood back to his bigger brain and put his hands on the table instead of on you. He didn’t even know you and he wanted to hate-fuck you. 

This was going to be a long production.

Definitely.

He looked over at you, looking gorgeous, but evil.

Maybe…. Nah, he thought, and got focused himself.  

He cleared his throat one more time.

“Let's read from the top, shall we?”

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Next part: Definitely, Possibly

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