Slender Bridge

by Katrina Clemons

  I rolled my eyes and pretended to consider the suggestion. I gave a huge, suffering sigh as if she was twisting my arm to manipulate me into doing what she wanted.

  “Al-right. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have some fun.” I grinned.

  “You are the worst actress ever, Helen. Leave that to Scott, okay?” She pulled up a list of restaurants within walking distance. “What are you in the mood to eat? And please, can we not have a dissecting of the meal to point out what is wrong and how you would have done this and that?”

  “Do I stop you from critiquing someone’s outfit? Look at that couple we saw in the shoe store. ‘Gawd! That top is so last season!’” I mimicked Clare, and she rolled her eyes.

  “That’s different. But please, can we pick a restaurant that is at least at an acceptable standard for you? I suggest we eat around seven then head out to the club about midnight.”

  I checked the time. “Okay. We have about an hour for a nap. Pick somewhere and make reservations.”

  Chapter 4 – Scott

  “Ah, Clare. Clare, Clare, Clare, Clare, Clare. It was a blessed fashion day when I found her.”

  I waited for Michael to swipe our room key.

  “She certainly seems to be a ball of energy. I liked her hair.” I moved to the minibar and poured us both some drinks.

  “Thanks.” Michael took a gulp. “That hit the spot. That is one of the things I like about her, too. She embraces her boldness.”

  I grinned at my friend. “And, I never thought I’d see the woman who could talk as much as you do. You’ve met your match, my friend.”

  “Far from it. It’s only business where we’re concerned.”

  “It could be more, but who am I to suggest anything.” I changed the subject quickly as Michael opened his mouth to continue the debate.

  “So, what do you think are my chances of landing this role?”

  “You’re practically Jeremiah Baker. You’ve passed all the screen tests and readings. Now it’s not a matter of if you will get the role, but when they will make the announcement. Trust me, bro. It’s now just the fine print and figures that are up for discussion. Then we start filming.”

  I nodded. “I know. I just wanted to hear it out in the open. The script is a pretty interesting one, don’t you think. And right up my alley too.”

  Michael gave me a weird look. “The character is a doctor on the verge of divorce, and losing his profession at the same time. How is that right up your alley?”

  I spread my arms dramatically. “Have you forgotten my upbringing, dear friend?”

  Michael shrugged. “I don’t see what your parents have to do with this, but okay. Whatever you say, bro.”

  I took a seat in one of the armchairs and crossed an ankle over one knee. I took another gulp of my drink.

  “My father, being a movie director, and my mother, being a doctor, are quite similar to Jeremiah being a doctor and married to a lawyer. Think about it. My father and mother were wrapped up in their careers and had no time to pay attention to their only child. It was a wonder they made me in the first place. I grew up surrounded by nannies. I saw actors and actresses on set and nurses in the waiting room more than I saw my parents. This Jeremiah character is my father. I’ve been training for a role like this my entire life.”

  Michael walked over to the bar and topped up his drink. I shook my head to decline. He took a swig before responding.

  “I don’t think you had such a rotten childhood, Scott. It could have been worse. Remember Matthew Davis? Now that was neglect and abuse.”

  “Matthew had six other siblings. So even in his misery, he had companionship. I was the typical lone ranger, sitting at home alone with no one to play with but the hired help. My parents were hardly at home. And when they were, it was usually one or the other. In retrospect, I think that was a blessing in disguise because when they were home together, I wished they weren’t there at all. Those fights! That is something no child should ever have to witness or go through. I dreaded being home. Why do you think I spent so much time at your house?”

  “And here I thought it was my winning personality and engaging friendship.”

  I grinned and shook my head. “Nope. I was looking for some peace and normal adults.”

  “Well, at least you know what it is you don’t want for your children, so you can make the necessary adjustments to be there for them.”

  I shook my head again. “Michael, I’ve told you before, and I’m going to keep telling you. Children are not on my list of things to do.”

  “But, you have to leave a legacy, Scott.”

  “If and when that time comes, there are countless charities and organizations that can benefit from a generous donation. But the Dawson line ends with me. I refuse to put an innocent child through the same life I had.”

  “You’re missing the point. Who’s to say you’re going to repeat your father’s mistakes? You know better, so you would do better.”

  “Who’s to say I won’t be my father’s son and neglect my child or children the way he neglected me as a child? It’s a chance I simply refuse to take. I like my life the way it is. Thirty. Single. No significant relationship. And no children now or ever.”

  Michael tossed back the rest of his drink and shrugged. “I guess I have to respect your stance, even if I don’t agree with it. I, on the other hand, want to have a whole team if I can find the woman willing to pop that many out. I can lend you any of them from time to time too.”

  I threw my head back and laughed. Michael’s desire was understandable as he came from a family of ten children.

  “I wish you luck with that. Women these days and in our age range are not looking to be barefoot and pregnant. Take your friend today. She seems to be a hip and happening career woman. Can you see her sitting around with a permanently swollen belly just because you want a dozen kids?”

  “If it’s the right woman and the love is there, she might.”

  I twisted my mouth wryly. “Love. That little word that causes so much trouble and emotional upheaval. I’ll pass, thank you.”

  Michael shook his head at me. “You’re a tough one to crack, Scottie boy. But I leave you to time. You haven’t met the right woman yet. That’s all. But when you do, I’m sure you will be changing your tune.”

  “Don’t hold your breath.” I pulled my phone out to check my messages. I saw Vivian’s name flash on the screen. I pressed the call button. She picked up on the third ring.

  “Hey, Viv. What’s up?”

  “Hi, Scott! Let me find my notepad. I have quite a few messages for you.”

  I listened as she scurried in the background. I smiled as I pictured what her home office desk probably looked like at that moment. There would be a pile of papers pushed to one side and anchored by the wall and the correspondence tray. There would also be a ton of documents in the middle, and it was probably there that she would find the elusive notepad. On the other side of the desk would be piles of scripts. Anyone who took a look at Vivian Brooks would wonder how this Raggedy Ann looking girl could be efficient in any way. Yet I found her brain to be analytical and precise, and she took care of my needs like a well-oiled machine. It was a god-send when I stumbled across her resume early in my career. We had clicked, and I had no intention of letting her go anytime soon.

  “Found it! Okay! So, your mom called and asked you to remember the cook-out up by the farm next weekend.”

  I made a slight face as I pictured the ‘farm’ which my mother had bought after the divorce. It was more like a ranch with a mansion in the middle of acres and acres of land. I could also hazard a guess that most of the guest list would be young, single women in their twenties. My mother did not hide the fact that she was hoping for me to marry soon. She was looking for me to produce some grandchildren for her to spoil. Each time she hinted, I reminded her that there were many orphanages around the world, and she could cut out the middle part of the equation and just adopt some grandchildren of her own. She
was never amused.

  “Retro studios called. There is a role that they think you would be perfect for, and they want you to come in and read for it. I gave them a date for three months from now. They weren’t very pleased, but I figured that it would be enough time for you to finalize this role and get caught up in filming, which would provide an excuse to refuse.”

  “Good girl.

  “Your dad wants you to stop by when you get back. Something about wanting to have a drink and do some catching up. I smell a movie pitch, but I could be wrong.”

  “Your instincts are usually spot on, my dear. It probably is as you say. I will bolster my thoughts accordingly.”

  “I took the opportunity of having the cleaning service come in while you’ve been away. Sweetie, you are going to see some things replaced when you get back, okay? I have no idea why a man of your means lives the way he does. I swear you’ve had some of those jeans since your teens. You have to do better, Scott.”

  “Vivian Rose Brooks, I swear I’m going to fire you if you’ve dumped my comfort clothes.”

  “‘Dumped’ is such a strong word. I prefer the term ‘relocated’… to a box… in the back of the closet. ‘Fire’ is also a strong word. You know we were a godsend for each other, sweetie.”

  I rolled my eyes and chuckled. Vivian was right. But I still had to put up some resistance.

  “Just make sure that when I want to feel grungy, I can find something to put on.”

  “And just before you called back, I got a call from the studios. It seems Mademoiselle Briggs has been sniffing around for the past few days.”

  My temper went from zero to a hundred. I bit out through clenched teeth.

  “What does she want?”

  “She never did say. They just wanted you to know that she’s been coming around.”

  I clenched and unclenched my jaw. “Is that all, then?”

  “Those are the most important right now. Everything else can wait until you get back. When will that be, by the way?”

  I looked over at Michael. “When do we wrap up here, bro?”

  “Another week.”

  “Hmmm. That puts you coming back maybe Thursday or Friday then? I can do the other rooms, after all.”

  “Vivian…”

  “Bye, sweetie! Bring home a contract!”

  Her loud giggles were the last thing I heard before she disconnected the call. I shook my head and sighed, bracing myself for whatever damage Vivian had wrought in my house in the few days I was gone. I knew it was always worth it, but still, I would have liked to have a say.

  “What does she want? She who?” Michael broke into my musing, and my clenched jaw re-appeared.

  “Eve’s been coming around the studio.”

  “Eve Briggs? I thought you two were through.”

  “We are. At least I am. But, she keeps popping up.”

  “Maybe she thinks you two are on a break, and there is a possibility of getting back together.”

  “If she keeps abreast of the tabloids, she would know that she is like three girls ago. She’s over and done.” I shrugged my shoulders. I stretched my legs out and stood.

  “Seriously, though, Scott. Eve had real potential for being Mrs. Dawson. She worked hard to hold on to you too.”

  “The only Mrs. Dawson around here was my mother who gave back that name years ago. Eve needs to move on. That’s all.”

  “Well, clearly, she can’t move on.”

  “More like doesn’t want to move on.”

  “She lasted long, though—almost a year. And then, suddenly, it was over. You never did say what happened between you two. I’ve never seen you get as upset by the mention of anyone else’s name as you do with hers. Level with me.”

  I took a deep breath and went to stand by the window. The last showdown with Eve played out in my head, and the anger I felt then came roaring back.

  “She pulled the pregnant stunt.”

  “Whoa!”

  “Yup! Test and all. I got Rohan on the case the next day. It was all lies. It was a plan to trap me into a quick marriage and then mysteriously ‘miscarry’ afterward.”

  “That’s some serious shit. I see why you’re so jaded about love.” Michael nodded. “But I still maintain that you would make a lucky girl a great husband. Your child or children would have a good father.”

  “Well, it’s good to know that you believe in me more than I believe in myself. It’s that kind of optimism that will always get me my contracts. Speaking of which, I thought we would be leaving by tomorrow. Why did I tell Vivian Thursday?”

  “Bro. We work hard. We’ve got to play hard too. We’re going to enjoy Miami while we can. And that starts tonight!”

  Chapter 5 – Scott

  I propped my foot on the low table in the VIP lounge of ‘Club Friction’. It was the third club we had been to that night, but I finally approved. It was spacious and clean. The music was hip and trending. The DJ had been spinning a good set in the hour that we were there. It was a little after midnight, and I felt an adrenaline rush. Nighttime was the best time to play. And I was in a playful mood.

  I bobbed my head in time to the beat of the music as I looked around. We were on an elevated platform above the general bar, and waitresses came and went. The crowd was not the typical teens but veered more to my age range. I was feeling antsy tonight. It was understandable as I was between relationships at the moment – at least I would be when I got back to New York and gave Alicia her marching orders. We both knew it was coming. Besides, I had already got wind of her new beau. I could now make a step to Isabel when I got back. But in this state of limbo, I was feeling frisky.

  “This was a good choice, bro!” I shouted to Michael over the music.

  He nodded. “It sure was! These ladies are fine!”

  I threw my head back and laughed. I could see that Michael’s thoughts and mine were on the same page. I held my hand up, and a waitress was at my elbow in a few seconds.

  “Gin on the rocks.” She scurried away and came back shortly after with my drink. I took a sip before turning my attention back to the room below. It was starting to fill up quite a bit. I took a sip then sputtered almost immediately as two women entered the room. I heard Michael choke on his drink shortly after.

  “Damn! I’d know that hair anywhere! Clare Stone has come out!” He grinned across at me. “And her friend doesn’t look too bad, either.”

  From our vantage point, I took a long look at the two women who had sidled up to the bar.

  Clare stood out in the crowd. Her hair was a big, orange halo. That alone made her seem taller. The tight dress she wore gleamed, which gave the impression it was leather or some shimmery fabric. It was a halter neckline and left her shoulders bare. She turned briefly to her friend, and I saw that the back was cut almost to her waist. That was a lot of skin to be touched. The hem stopped more than halfway up her thighs, and her long, lean legs left very little to the imagination. She threw her head back and laughed at something her friend said, showing off her long neck. I looked over at Michael as he grinned. He was feeling Clare for sure.

  I turned my attention to her quiet friend, and my heart felt as if it stopped beating. Clare was all bubbly vivaciousness, but this one, this one smoked.

  Her curls bounced around her face as she nodded in response to something Clare had said. She was slightly shorter than Clare and her skin the shade of creamy caramel. The richness of her complexion was even more startling against the fire engine red dress she wore. It clung to her like a second skin, hugging every curve. The tiny spaghetti straps left her arms and shoulders bare. There was the barest hint of cleavage – just enough to make a man wonder what lay beneath the edge of the garment. A strategically placed zipper ended just at the top between the two mounds of flesh. I caught my breath as my imagination started to race and wonder what I would see as the zipper was pulled down inch by inch…

  “Heel, bro. You’re drooling over there. But damn! Don’t they look hot!”


  I took another sip of my drink and swallowed against the lump in my throat.

  “That’s the understatement of the year. They are smoking!”

  Michael nodded in agreement. “Clare is something else. I remember when I met her back in San Fran. This club is her type of scene, for sure. More than likely, she forced curly Sue to tag along.”

  I wagged my finger at Michael. “Don’t underestimate the quiet ones, bro. They can surprise you when you least expect it. Curly Sue may have a thing or two going on beneath that innocent exterior. But uncle Scottie knows how to bring that fire to the surface.” I tossed the rest of my drink back and stood. “I think the ladies are looking a tad lonely. A friendly face in a strange place is always welcome, don’t you think?”

  Michael was on his feet in a flash. “Let’s rescue them before these hunters smell fresh meat.”

  We made our way down to the general area. I deliberately ignored the double-takes of recognition as I passed through the crowd. I was used to it by now. If I did not already have my sights set on curly Sue, I would have had many options to cater to my frisky feeling.

  Michael pulled up on Clare’s left while I moved to her friend’s right.

  “Ladies! Fancy running into you here!”

  “Michael! What are you guys doing here?”

  I saw curly Sue look over at Michael and Clare then me. Even in the dim light coming from the bar, I could see the slight blush that rose to her cheeks. I gave her my most award-winning smile and put my hand out in greeting.

  “It’s nice to see you again…”

  “Helen.” She placed her smaller hand in mine, and I squeezed gently.

  “Ah, yes! Helen! I knew it had something to do with that stunning woman whose face was said to have ‘launched a thousand ships’.”

  She bowed her head gracefully and withdrew her hand.