Behind the Scenes

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Behind the Scenes Page 12

by Christina C Jones


  Because they would probably tell his parents, which meant no longer pretending he was just giving me a little space.

  I could already see the dots moving to indicate he was typing a response when I blocked him again.

  There would be no back and forth.

  Not with him, or anybody.

  Moving forward, since it didn’t seem to be a top priority for any of the people it should be important to… I would put myself in charge of looking out for me.

  12

  Pierre

  FROM: BYERS, LOGAN

  TO: PERRY, PIERRE III

  I apologize for any inconvenience it may cause, but I need to take a personal day. For any urgent/immediate services, please contact me at the previously provided number. Any necessary provisions to keep your schedule on track have already been made, and I will make up any essential work tomorrow. All correspondence that has been funneled through me will be responded to and/or forwarded in a timely fashion.

  Thank you for your understanding, and I’ll see you tomorrow.

  I frowned at that email as soon as it hit my inbox – not because I couldn’t manage without Logan for the day, but because it felt… off.

  Logan Byers taking a personal day?

  That shit didn’t even sound right.

  As much as I wanted to hit her up, I had to respect the boundary we were trying to put in place – and respect the fact that she obviously had something going on. Only because of our blurred lines did I have any hints as to the things that had been bothering her lately, from her ex to her parents.

  I was going to have to pretend I didn’t know about any of that, though.

  So instead of hitting her up, I went to the office, intent on following through with the efficiently detailed schedule she’d already put in place for me. I spent the early part of the morning fielding emails from prospective production team members who had questions – questions I could easily answer from the fact-sheet Logan compiled.

  Even when she wasn’t here physically, her impact was everywhere.

  My next step was a script breakdown meeting with Nick, who immediately looked around like he was confused when I walked into the small conference room alone.

  “Where’s Logan?” he asked, going back to his task of putting the script up on the big screen projector, so it was easier for us to work together on it.

  I shrugged. “She hit me up this morning saying she needed a personal day.”

  “Something wrong with her?”

  My eyes went wide, glad he saw the same thing I did. “There has to be, right? She’s been a machine since the day she started, but now she needs a personal day? It’s been bugging the fuck outta me.”

  “Did you call or anything? Check in?”

  Dropping to a seat, I shook my head. “Nah… trying not to overstep.”

  Nick stopped what he was doing to pin me with a knowing smirk. “Ay… remember when I asked your ass if there was anything going on with you and her, and you blew me off like that was bullshit?”

  “Just like what’s about to happen right now?”

  “Nah, player,” Nick laughed. “You not getting off easy this time. Especially not now that I’ve been around y’all together.”

  I sucked my teeth. “What, you’re about to tell me we’ve been giving each other long, pining looks behind the other’s back or something?”

  “The exact opposite – y’all give a little too much to pretending not to be hella aware of each other. It’s subtle, but… I see that shit.”

  “Your ass is always seeing some shit,” I chuckled. “Just like you saw Noah in that airport.”

  “You damn right – I saw the love of my life and took my chance. As far as I see it, ain’t no shame in that. My lady will be ready and waiting for me when I get back to LA,” he bragged. “Meanwhile… you’re afraid to overstep. Get outta here, man.”

  “We work together – what am I supposed to do?” I asked, tossing my hands up. “We’re attracted to each other, sure, but what we’re doing here, with this show… that has to be the focus, dude. That has to be my focus. I need to do this, and she’s too important to that process for me to inevitably fuck it up because we were trying to do something else.”

  Nick just looked at me for a bit, then shook his head. “Aiight man… I’ll let you talk about that whole idea that you’d inevitably fuck it up with your therapist or something. I’m not touching that. What I will say though, is that you shouldn’t let trying to avoid the romantic shit have you out here looking like you don’t give a fuck. That’s not even like you.”

  I pushed out a sigh as I reclined back in my chair, swaying back and forth. There wasn’t much I could say because… he was right.

  It wasn’t like me.

  My natural inclination hadn’t even started with a text or a phone call – I preferred to just pull the fuck up, so I could see what was happening with my own eyes. But after that little conversation at her place, then her reaction to Nubia’s “family” comment, and how “professional” we’d kept things since… the line in the sand had been pretty clearly drawn.

  I didn’t give a shit about the line though.

  I only bothered because she cared, but if it was up to me, we could leave the boundaries blurry. I didn’t want to be disrespectful of her wishes, but I also… wanted to make sure she was good.

  Needed to make sure she was good.

  Which was how, after Nick and I had mapped out locations, wardrobe, and set design for the episode we were scheduled for… I ended up in front of her building.

  Again.

  By some sort of divine providence, she was already standing outside when I pulled up, talking to a guy wearing a Turner Motors shirt. I went ahead and exited, walking up just as she shook the man’s hand and he walked away – giving me no cover at all against the curious frown Logan levied in my direction.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Fuck.

  Instead of walking through this in my head, I’d spent the ride over here rapping along with my radio about illegal shit, and now that I was in front of her…

  Hell, what was I doing here?

  “Uh… Nick asked about you,” I momentarily deflected, then shook my head, meeting her gaze to tell the whole truth. “And… I was worried about you.”

  Her eyebrow shot up, and she laughed. “Wow. I take one personal day and you feel like you have to pull up and check on me?”

  “When you put it like that it sounds like I’m bugging, but… yeah, actually,” I admitted. “I just felt like something was off.”

  She tried to shrug it off, but her sudden inability to meet my eyes felt like confirmation of what I suspected. Outwardly, even in a ponytail and athleisure instead of the attire I was used to seeing her in, she was as put-together as usual.

  “Logan—”

  “I don’t wanna talk about it,” she cut in, before I could even get my words out. “I appreciate you coming to check on me, really, but… I’m just trying to be okay, and rehashing it…” she stopped to take a deep breath, putting her hands up to her face – that’s when I noticed the key fob hooked over her finger.

  “Something happen to your ride?” I asked, shifting the subject to something neutral in hopes she wasn’t about to shut down on me.

  With a heavy sigh, she dropped her hands. “Um… you could say that. I gave my father his car back, and got my own,” she said, pointing to a gleaming teal-colored hybrid in one of the resident parking spots up front. “Just got delivered.”

  “It looks good. You happy with it?”

  “Very much so,” she nodded. “Feels a lot more… me.”

  Something about the way she said that made it feel loaded, but she’d already been clear about not wanting to unpack whatever was going on – at least not with me. So, instead of digging in, and before shit got awkward, I decided it was time for me to head on about my business.

  “You can tell me more about it tomorrow,” I spoke up, taking a few steps back
wards. “I see you’re good, and probably busy, so I won’t hold you.”

  At first she just gave me a smile, but as I turned to fully walk away, she called after me. “Hey, I don’t know if you’ve eaten yet, but I have a ton of Chinese buffet food upstairs…”

  I stopped, turning to look at her. “From where?”

  “The really good one, at the Drake.”

  I scoffed. “Nah, you can’t leave their buffet with food.”

  “You can if you know exactly who to talk to,” she smirked. Because of course she knew who to talk to. “You coming, or not?”

  Of course I was.

  She grinned as I jogged back to where she was standing to accompany her into the building. Before we got on the elevator though, she looked up to meet my gaze, and asked, “Hey… just as… friends, right?”

  “You’re asking me not to fuck you?”

  “Basically, yes.”

  “Okay. I’ll try.”

  She laughed at that as we climbed on the elevator together, but I was very serious about trying. This little yoga-pants situation she had going on was making it hard not to wonder if there were any panties underneath, and then the thought of her not having any on…

  “Damn, that was a long ten minutes to go get my new keys.”

  The fuck?

  My musings about the number of layers between myself and Logan’s pussy were cut short by the sound of an unfamiliar voice as soon as she opened her apartment door. I froze where I was, trapped by the sudden stare of two women I’d never seen or met before, but who were apparently very familiar with Logan.

  “Oh, that’s why it took you so long – you brought back a stray fuckboy,” the one who’d been speaking before laughed, pushing a handful of waist-length braids over her shoulder.

  “Laurel!” the other one gave her friend a deeply censoring look – Laurel shrugged it off – and then started in my direction, hand outstretched. “Hi. Rowan Bishop,” she said, and I accepted the offered handshake. “You are…?”

  “Pierre Perry…”

  “The third?!” Laurel blurted, over a mouthful of noodles.

  At first, I thought maybe she was familiar with my father and grandfather – or perhaps me directly, because of the old shit with my reputation. But then there was a whispered “ohhhh,” from Rowan, with a meaningful look in Logan’s direction.

  And the sheer embarrassment on her face said it all.

  They knew who I was from what she had told them.

  “Yes, this is Pierre Perry the Third, the client I told you about,” she said, rushing up to me to usher me in the direction of the kitchen. When I met her gaze, she gave me a subtle headshake that I took to indicate whatever they knew, it wasn’t everything.

  “Pierre, this is my neighbor, Laurel, and she is how Rowan and I met. They were already besties, and then they kinda welcomed me into their fold,” Logan explained. “Laurel is a brilliant freelance techie, and Rowan runs the Cartwright Center – local community center and charity. They already know you’re a writer and producer,” she said, turning to me.

  “Yeah, and maybe we can find out what you’re writing and producing since you’re here in person. Logan’s ass is always all tight-lipped with the tea like she took a blood oath or something,” Laurel said, following us into the kitchen. “Your description was great though – this man is fine as fuck.”

  “Seriously?!” Logan hissed, but I personally couldn’t do shit but laugh – I would never have expected straight-laced Logan to be friends with someone who just said things so… plainly.

  I liked Laurel.

  “My sexiness is no secret, shorty,” I told Logan with a wink before giving my attention to Laurel – and Rowan, who’d walked up beside her. “Logan is using her massive skills to help me with the production and development of an original series. We’re keeping the details on the low for now, but… I think it’s gonna be pretty good.”

  Logan snorted. “Pretty good? It’s gonna be amazing.”

  “I know you wouldn’t settle for anything less than that,” I smiled, setting off totally different reactions from her friends.

  “Awww!” from Rowan, and a muttered, “We’re really supposed to believe they’re not fucking?” from Laurel.

  Which reminded me of what Nick had said about us being too obvious.

  “I’m about to put you outta here,” Logan told Laurel, who took on this faux-innocent look that had me chuckling again.

  “What’d I do?” she asked, snagging an eggroll from the takeout containers on the counter before Rowan snatched her arm to walk her back toward the living room where she’d been.

  Still grinning, I turned to Logan, who looked like she was regretting her decision to bring me up here.

  “This is what you needed a personal day for?” I asked. “To kick it with your girls in the middle of the day and eat buffet food at home?”

  Her eyes went wide, mouth open, but I spoke again before she could.

  “Seems like a dope ass break to me. I might have to take some notes.”

  Logan’s shoulders sank, I guess relieved that I wasn’t judging her for needing an unexpected day off. “This wasn’t my plan, actually. Laurel’s sister is kinda… seeing… Lincoln Drake, so she has certain perks – buffet access being one of them. She texted me to tell me to come by when I got home because she had a plate for me, and I responded that I was already home, and then… her and Rowan showed up with all this,” she explained, waving her hand at about eight takeout containers worth of food. “She showed me a picture – this isn’t even half of what she took. She says she’s stocking her freezer,” Logan laughed. “I love the buffet at the Drake though, so it was a needed mood booster.”

  “What were your plans before they showed up?”

  She sighed. “Depressing music played at obnoxiously loud levels and a bottle of wine.” As soon as the word wine left her lips, she kinda froze. “Sorry.”

  I shook my head. “Just the mention of liquor isn’t gonna make me relapse, shorty,” I chuckled. “I appreciate the concern though. It did have to be a pretty hard line at first, but I like to think I’m pretty good at keeping myself together now.”

  “What are y’all whispering about over there?!” Laurel yelled. “Logan tell that man to fix a plate and come on over here so he can tell me if he’s got some single fine friends!”

  “Oh God,” Logan groaned. “This was supposed to feel like a hot seat for you, not me.”

  I shook my head, giving her a smirk as I grabbed one of the plates that was already on the counter. “There are very few situations that feel like the hot seat to me,” I told her. “You’ve gotta have some shame to be easily embarrassed.”

  She gave me a skeptical look, but I wasn’t bullshitting – and… I actually liked her friends. Once I was sitting down with them, I found out that Rowan was married to a local politician I actually had heard of, who’d lost a city council election just to bounce back and end up in a different office anyway, with a real focus on charity. And calling Laurel “brilliant” wasn’t just some hyperbolic thing - she’d actually created, from scratch, the project-management software used by everybody at WAWG.

  With Logan’s help on the non-technical aspects, apparently.

  “Look, I was deadass about the fine, single homeboys,” Laurel spoke up after a while, waving off that whole line of conversation. “With your tats, and that haircut, your lil sneakers and all, you’re fully immersed in the fuck-nigga uniform – where the rest of y’all at?”

  Shaking my head, I chuckled as I reclined back in the couch. “I wish I could help, but… anybody I know that I would wish on a woman already has a woman.”

  “Mhm, mmhm,” Laurel nodded. “Okay, the nice guys, right. Now what about the ones you wouldn’t wish on anybody, cause that’s exactly my type.”

  Beside her, Rowan gave her a playful nudge. “Will you stop? I told you, Reid has friends that would be great for you!”

  “And I’ve told you, I don’t want
any of those stuffy ass political dudes,” Laurel huffed. “Tell Reid to holler at me when he has a friend I have to sign a non-disclosure agreement to fuck with like you did.”

  My eyes went wide. “Wait, a non-disclosure?”

  “Not at liberty to discuss that,” Rowan sputtered, nudging Laurel in a non-playful way this time.

  “Sorry,” she giggled, then looked back to me. “Seriously though… where they at?”

  “Listen… a couple years back, I would’ve had somebody for you. Everybody I fuck with now is too well-behaved.”

  “Ugh. You’re reformed, huh?”

  I nodded. “Yeah… unfortunately.”

  “No, no, good for you,” Laurel groaned, as Logan and Rowan laughed. “You’re from LA you said? You must’ve been in some pretty wild shit, huh?”

  I shrugged. “I mean… it was Hollywood, so…”

  “Oh you were a hoe hoe? Like big time, huh?”

  “I guess you could put it like that,” I laughed.

  “But you’re not anymore now? You’re for real reformed?”

  “I am for real reformed,” I agreed. “I was celibate until fairly recently, actually.”

  Logan had been drinking from a glass of water, and choked on it with that revelation, eyes wide. “Really?”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “Not like… in a big deal kinda way though, just something I’d been in practice with around my sobriety. Not engaging in behaviors that triggered my desire to drink, and… casual sex was one of those.”

  “Wow,” Rowan spoke up, leaning forward. “So you’ve struggled with alcoholism?”

  “I have. But I’ve got a few years of sobriety under my belt now. Lived in Blackwood for a while, had a sponsor there, who I keep in touch with.”

  “So the celibacy was like one of your steps or something?” Laurel asked. “You had to do it for a certain length of time, and then you were done, and you just let loose on somebody who didn’t realize it was your first pussy in years?”

  I threw my head back to laugh at her characterization before I shook my head. “Nah, not quite like that,” I chuckled. “It wasn’t really anything official, just after talking to Will – my sponsor – about the challenges I was having, he thought it might be good for me, so I gave it a shot. And then eventually… it wasn’t even difficult – it’s discipline. Not fucking was a helluva lot easier than not drinking,” I admitted, then looked to Logan, who was still sitting there speechless. “And when I did have that first experience afterward, it wasn’t really this big deal in my head. It’s a bigger deal to y’all than to me,” I laughed. “But I knew I wasn’t using sex as a substitute for anything else, wasn’t feeling any kind of unhealthy urges, none of that. I just… felt like it was supposed to happen. Like it was something she needed, and I was just the means for that, and… who was I to stray from the path?” I stopped talking, realizing they were all staring at me. “Damn, that makes me sound like I’m on some higher spiritual plane shit, doesn’t it?”

 

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