Behind the Scenes

by Christina C Jones

  “Not necessary,” she said, shaking her head. She reached into the cabinet where she always kept her things, pulling her laptop out. “It would probably just make it more obvious that we…”

  I raised an eyebrow. “That we… what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  That felt like a lie.

  And felt very opposite to the definitive line in the sand that had already been drawn.

  Whatever it was though, in typical Logan fashion, she shook it off, raising the lid to her laptop with a smile.

  “Let’s get some work done, so you can make it to that late lunch with your family.”

  11

  Logan

  “Have I really left you speechless?”

  Across from me, Trei – my Trei – Norwood, not to be confused with Pierre’s adorable little cousin – cringed, then made a big show of knocking back the rest of his drink. It had been weeks since we’d kicked it, before I even signed the contract for my latest client, so I was filling him in on everything that had gone down.

  Everything that had gone down.

  Trei was a little older than me, but still, we’d practically grown up together, and were good friends now. I’d been his sounding board, trying to offer a woman’s perspective back when he was in heavy pursuit of his now-girlfriend a few years back. My advice – among others, in addition to his good looks and charm – had won her over, and they’d been happily together since then.

  And Zoraya Whitfield of the Whitfields was no easy catch.

  This nigga owed me some good advice.

  “Trei,” I prompted, when he still hadn’t said anything, but was still looking off in the distance like he was deep in thought.

  “My bad, Lo,” he said, sitting up straight to meet my gaze. “I just… shit, I don’t know what to tell you. You know you fucked up though, right?”

  I threw my hands up, so frustrated I couldn’t do anything but laugh. “Yeah, duh. I shouldn’t have fucked him – I knew it beforehand, and I especially know it now, but I can’t go back in time. So… what do I do?”

  “You remember those memory zapper things from Men in Black?”

  “Trei!”

  “I’m sorry,” his ass laughed, shaking his head. “I said I don’t know what to tell you. I mean… you don’t have a problem working with him, right?”

  I shook my head. “Come on, you know me. I can always, even to my detriment, keep it cute and professional.”

  “Okay then. If you think he can do the same, what’s really the problem?”

  Blowing out a sigh, I reached for my wine glass, disappointed to find it empty. Especially since I couldn’t have another if I planned to drive myself home. “The problem is… I don’t think it was really just sex, even though we’re both pretending it was.”

  “So you’ve got feelings for him?”

  “Feelings is a stretch,” I insisted. “But I can admit that I… I kinda like him. He’s intriguing.”

  “Like is a feeling, Logan.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Do I?”

  “Yes,” I laughed, wrinkling my nose at him. “I’m saying that I don’t have feelings yet, but I’m afraid they’re gonna develop, and that’s just… not ideal.”

  “Right. Especially since your parents are expecting you to marry Les Moore. Which – I do have some advice about that.”

  I perked up. “Please. I’m listening.”

  “You’re grown. What are they gonna do, send you to your room because you didn’t marry who they wanted?”

  I rolled my eyes, disappointed that he was simplifying it so much when he knew better. His father, my father, and Les’ father had all gone to BSU together back in the day and were all good friends.

  Les had followed his family’s plan and would take over the business.

  Trei had followed his family’s plan and was already moving into position as head of operations for Norwood’s Wine and Fine Liquors.

  I couldn’t help thinking I wouldn’t have this problem if instead of pushing me toward Les, my parents had seen my perfect match in Trei. He was fine as hell, a great businessman, and was actually interesting.

  I’d even had a pretty sizable crush on him back in the day.

  But because of the bigger age difference between us – I was a high school sophomore when Trei was heading off to college – it came down to me and Les, who was only a year older.

  Somehow, I doubted he and I would be going on six years of doldrums, and only just now, once I was already over it, talking about a ring.

  “You remember what they did when I left the firm, right? Or did I just imagine crying on your shoulder about it?” I asked.

  He let out a huff. “Yeah, I remember that bullshit – your father still doesn’t even want to look me in the eyes cause I got in his ass about it. But you should’ve pushed back about that shit, Lo. Yes, our parents worked hard to provide a life of good options for us. But we didn’t ask to come here – we don’t owe them anything except our love and respect. We don’t have to choose the option they want us to take.”

  “You did. Les did.”

  “Les is… an interesting character,” he said, trying to be kind since he had no real issue with him. “So I can’t speak for him. But I actually like the spirits business and enjoy what I do. I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything. You, on the other hand… practicing law was draining all the energy out of you. It wasn’t until you started your business that you blossomed again.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I know, but they weren’t trying to hear that.”

  “So make them hear it,” Trei insisted, still talking about it like it was this easy thing. “If they act stupid again, so be it, you know what? Make them feel that too. Shit, you stop speaking to them if they want to act crazy,” he laughed. “How your parents gonna give you the silent treatment? Nope. You do that shit first and see how fast they come around.”

  “That shit doesn’t work,” I claimed. I knew that from experience with Les. When I tried to give him the silent treatment, he seemed to prefer it.

  “Nah, me and Zora do it to each other all the time,” Trei admitted, shaking his head. “We can’t stand for the other to not be speaking to us, so it moves us to have the conversation – even if it’s ugly – and get over the shit with less wasted time. Cause you know that’s what it is, right? Being at odds with somebody you love is a waste of time. It’s one thing to need a few hours to cool off – even a day, you know? But if you’re comfortable withholding attention and affection for longer than that, over something that could be solved by a conversation – or even better, by you not being a fucking bully? There’s something wrong there. And if you’re on the receiving end of that, you shouldn’t be letting it ride. Whether it’s friends, family, romantic, whatever. They’ve gotta put their shit to the side when it comes to your life. And I’ll tell them that shit again if you want me to.”

  I smiled, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “That’s not necessary, Trei. But thank you for offering. And for the advice. I mean… you’re probably right. I believe they want me to be happy, I just think they believe they know how to get there better than I do, which doesn’t really work for me.”

  “But you’ve been trying to force that. You’ve been trying to make that work, on several levels – with your job, your relationship, hell, that flashy ass BMW that I know your ass hates,” Trei laughed.

  I pushed out a deep sigh, thinking about the long argument I’d had with my father about my cute little electric car, which he’d hated purely off the strength of it not being German engineering.

  The next month, the flashy ass BMW was parked in front of my building, sporting a huge pink ribbon. Because my car hadn’t fit his standards, he’d decided it wasn’t good enough, so he’d done something about it. And because I didn’t want to be ungrateful, I’d just gone along with it.

  Just one of many times I’d let them trample over my autonomy.

  It couldn�
�t always be this way.

  Whether or not it would though… that would be up to me.

  I left lunch with Trei with that idea heavy on my mind, and then, hours later, reached out to my parents to confirm that I’d join them for dinner the next night. Instead of a restaurant though, I pushed for the privacy of their house.

  The last thing I needed when I broke this news to them was an accusation of making a scene.

  ***

  I checked my face and hair in the mirror one last time before I exited my car – I didn’t want to offer any ammo for my mother to pick apart.

  Not that she was overtly mean or anything, she was just… very in tune with her appearance and expected the same from me. If there was something wrong, she would have suggestions to give out.

  Which I just… didn’t need.

  It had been a long ass day.

  There hadn’t even been any time for awkwardness or flirting between me and Pierre – we were busy.

  Now that the script was locked in, the budget was decided, and all legal considerations on track, it was time to start hiring people, officially. Nick Davison had flown to town for the day, and between the three of us – but of course mostly Nick and Pierre – there had been a lot of discussion and narrowing in terms of additional directors, cinematographers, editors, composers, just… everything.

  And then we needed official offers drawn up for all those people.

  It was grueling.

  But it was done.

  Or at least, it would be, over the next couple of days. We at least had all the names, and a soft verbal yes from damn near all of them, but the actual contracts would take time.

  I was already exhausted, and these were still the very early stages.

  “Logan, you look beautiful, sweetheart,” my mother greeted, opening the door to welcome me inside. “What a lovely dress – you went to that boutique I recommended, didn’t you?” she gushed, pulling me into a hug.

  “I did,” I answered, returning her hug and greeting with compliments of my own because Kimberly Byers always looked flawless, and there was no exception today.

  The fact that she hadn’t found anything wrong with me was a relief.

  “Come along,” she said, hooking her arm through mine. “Your father’s already set the table.”

  I let her guide me to the dining room, feeling a little less anxious, but… still on edge. It was a further relief when my father had a warm greeting for me similar to my mother’s, and before long, we were all seated around the table.

  “I’m surprised you’re alone – I assumed you were bringing Les when you let me know you were coming today,” my mother mentioned, looking up from her plate. “We haven’t seen him at all lately – he’s not letting the insurance company overwork him, is he?”

  Right to it then.

  Okay.

  “I… haven’t spoken to Les in a few weeks,” I told her, punctuating my sentence with a mouth full of salad so I wouldn’t give the conversation more detail than necessary.

  Maybe not enough detail, because my father laughed. “Ah, trouble in paradise. It happens, sweetie.”

  “No, actually,” I corrected immediately, pulling in a deep breath. “I broke up with him, and we’re not getting back together. Because I don’t like him.”

  There was a long silence, and then, finally my father put his fork down. “What do you mean you don’t like him? You’ve been dating him for the last six years.”

  “Only because it’s what you and mom wanted. If it was up to me – if I’d felt like it was up to me? We probably wouldn’t have made it past two. But you guys adore him, and already had our life together practically planned out, so I thought it was for the best.”

  “Because it was – because it is,” my mother said, frowning at me across the table like she was confused. “Les is a lovely young man – he’s tall, he’s handsome, he’s successful, he’s tall—”

  He makes me wanna drink bleach.

  “… and the Moores are very good friends of ours. I think you should reconsider this, sweetheart.”

  “The fact that you had to list tall twice says everything, mama,” I said, shaking my head. “Yes, the things you said about him are true, but none of that means he’s right for me. He’s constantly talking down to me, insulting my business, trying to make me feel like he’s the only man who’d ever want me. Or put up with me. Does that sound like someone I should be with to you?”

  “It sounds like you two are having some issues communicating – maybe you should see a counselor before you two take this next step,” my father suggested. “I can set it up for you.”

  “Or not, because I’m not going to counseling with a man I’m not dating anymore, let alone considering marrying. It’s over, guys,” I told them, forcing a firmness I didn’t actually feel into my voice. “I know it’s disappointing, but it’s not your decision – it’s mine. And I won’t be swayed.”

  That set off another round of silence at the table – they were stunned, I could tell, that I would speak to them that way.

  Hell, I was too.

  But the whole situation felt very now or never, and since I’d decided it was gonna be now, I couldn’t back away from it.

  “Does this have anything to do with you working with that Perry kid?” my father spoke up, his voice tinged with familiar frustration and anger.

  It was the same tone he’d taken when I put in my resignation from the firm.

  “We know you’ve had him spending the night at your place, been with him all odd hours of the day,” he added, information that made my mouth drop open in shock. I looked to my mother, but it was clearly not new to her – she was giving me the same expectant look, like she was waiting on an explanation.

  “Are you… spying on me?” I asked, my brow furrowed in confusion as I tried to think of any other possible way they could know these things.

  “If you thought we’d allow you to be galivanting all over Vegas with God knows who, for this little servant thing you’ve got going without any kind of oversight, sweetie you were sadly mistaken,” my mother spoke up, and I…

  Finally, I understood what people meant when they claimed to see red.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?!” I asked, pushing back from the table. “You have to be, right?”

  “Don’t you dare disrespect us, young lady!” my father bellowed, standing up, clearly hoping that the bass in his voice would make me shrink like usual.

  I was too tired though.

  Physically, mentally, emotionally, I just didn’t have it in me to fall back as expected.

  “Respect?!” I shot back, instead. “I’ve done nothing but respect you two, and your wishes, to my own detriment! I suffered at that law firm for years until I finally got the courage to step out on my own, and you both saw it and said nothing! You never asked if I was okay, never told me it was okay for me to do something else, even though it was killing me. But as long as I didn’t curse at you, that was fine, right? You’d have me miserable for the rest of my life with a man who I couldn’t even beg to show me some consideration and care, but as long as I don’t yell, that’s fine, right?!”

  “Sweetheart, no one is saying that—”

  “It’s exactly what you’re saying!” I screamed, cutting off my mother’s weak ass attempt at an explanation. “It’s what you’re saying now, what you’ve been saying, what you would’ve said forever, as long as I pretended to be perfect little obedient Logan. You would’ve smiled and shown me off to your friends as a fucking success story while I was emotionally dying right in front of your eyes. As long as it was your way.”

  “I am your father,” he bellowed at me, jabbing a finger in my direction. “You will not make me feel bad for trying to lead you into what was right or making sure you were protected!”

  “I was in the way of more harm dealing with the firm’s pervert ass old men clients than I’ve ever been while pursuing my passion!” I snapped. “Do you know how many times I’ve been
groped, or had disgusting things said to me, or been outright solicited, but didn’t dare say anything because I didn’t want to lose any of your precious billable hours? I couldn’t even tell you,” I admitted, scrubbing the hot tears from my face. “That’s how many times. It’s part of why I hated that place, why I don’t want to deal with those people. You wanna send people to follow me, wanna check up on me, but guess how many times I’ve ever had to deal with one of my clients making me uncomfortable? Just once,” I answered, before either of them could hazard a guess. “And where was the fucking protection then, huh? Nowhere to be found. I handled myself. I’ve been handling myself, and I’ll continue to, because you know what? For better or worse, I’m a Byers, and you didn’t raise me to lose. You just weren’t counting on your expectations being my opponent, were you? So… whatever, okay? Good luck with that.”

  Ignoring them calling after me, I stormed out, making it all the way into my car before they caught up. I locked the doors though, turned the car on and pulled off, only stopping to put my head out of the car, look my angry father right in the eyes, and tell him –

  “You can send somebody to pick this car up from my building tomorrow. Otherwise, I’m reporting it and having it towed.”

  And then I drove off.

  Scared as hell, but… somehow… relieved.

  I had no clue what was going to happen now, wasn’t sure what my next step in my relationship with my parents would be. But I didn’t feel like I was suffocating under the weight of their opinions anymore, at least.

  And that was a start.

  The first thing I did when I got home was make arrangements for a new vehicle – the cute little non-German smart car of my dreams. Then, I went through the trouble of talking with my building about revoking the keycard admittance for Les.

  He no longer needed that access to me.

  Then, in a move I would probably regret, but couldn’t help giving him this courtesy – I unblocked him, to shoot him a text to let him know I’d told my parents about the breakup.