by Kahlen Aymes
"Yeah, she's a man-eater," John said under his breath. "I saw how she was working you. I doubt romance has anything to do with it. You'd wake up with your dick missing."
I burst out laughing. "Yeah, and I might need it later."
He turned and motioned with his arm and called out to her. "Davina, let's go. Cade is tired and he asked me to make sure you get back to your room."
Davina draped over me in a big hug and brought her hand to my face, but I pulled back. "Night, baby," she said. Daniel rolled his eyes over the top of her head and I stifled a smile.
"Good night. See you on set."
Daniel took Davina's arm and started to lead her out of the door. "Yes. Call me later, if you want. I’ll be up." She smiled lazily, but looked put out that I’d asked her to leave.
Immediately after, I left myself and in a matter of minutes I was in my room stripping off my shirt on the way to the bedroom. I threw myself down on the bed in the dark.
"Bloody hell," I said into the silence of the room. I reached my hand into the pocket of my jeans and pulled out my phone. I knew I wouldn't find a message from Brook because it hadn't vibrated. I knew she hadn't called because her ringtone had been silent all night. My thumb ran over the screen as I scrolled through the hundreds of texts we'd exchanged over the last month. I longed to send a message.
What was she thinking? I was well aware of the pictures had been clandestinely taken on fans phones and paparazzi on the sidewalks. Ugh! I was seriously screwed. Either way, I couldn't win. I struggled with what to say, as I pulled out my phone to send a text to Brook.
It wasn't the same without you tonight. Sweet dreams.
I waited a few minutes, staring at the damn thing and willing a message to come in with all that I had. It never did.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
I threw my phone down, unbuttoned my jeans, pushed them down and kicked them to the floor. I rolled over and grabbed a pillow, bunching it up in my arms. Morning couldn't come soon enough. I just needed to look in those gorgeous blue eyes. Then I would know what she was thinking. Then I would have some peace.
I WOKE UP THE next morning with a feeling of dread for the day ahead. Somehow I’d made it to set for the 5 AM call and the love scene, while awkward and uncomfortable, had wrapped in only three takes. Thank God.
I was dragging, but I rushed back to my suite, showered and dressed quickly. I didn't bother shaving; just jammed a blue stocking cap on my head and shoved my feet quickly into my Nikes. The limo ride to the airport and the flight on the private plane was painfully long. I’d held off texting Brook more after she didn’t return the others from last night. I felt sick; my heart heavy, even as I willed the miles and time between New York and Los Angeles to melt away. I was worried at what I’d face when I got to Brook, but I couldn’t wait to get there, nevertheless. The three hours on the plane felt like years.
Upon landing, I’d called Jeanne, who filled me in on Brook’s schedule. She only had a rehearsal today, so hopefully she’d get done earlier than usual. I knew Jeanne would be waiting for me because she’d agreed to take me to set. After I climbed in the car, Jeanne gave me a rundown of Brook’s day. She met with her director and the special effects team early, and then they were taking test shots for camera angles, the lighting tests and to see how well everything would mirror the storyboards. I ran a hand through my hair as I stared out the window. I didn’t care about this shit.
Today the sun would shine in New York, but for the rest of the week the forecast called for overcast skies; which would justify my escape to L.A. if I were questioned.
I barely spoke to Jeanne in the car and I didn't say much more on the way to Brook’s set. I knew my one-syllable answers were awkward, and she longed to ask me what was bothering me, but I wasn't in the mood for small talk. My mind was consumed with the fact that Brook hadn't returned my texts. That wasn't like her. Not like her at all.
I didn't expect to see Brook right away but she was there as Jeanne and I walked into the studio. Her face was stoic as she spoke to her director, Pat Armstrong. She glanced at us approaching out of the corner of her eye. Her jaw jutted out as she turned back to her conversation with Pat. She was dressed in jeans and an oversized flannel shirt with her hair drawn back in a ponytail. Nothing like the futuristic costume I was expecting.
"Uh oh. Brook’s on the warpath," Jeanne murmured as we drew closer. "I thought she’d be happy to see you? Do you know what's up her ass?"
"She's your client, Jeanne. You supposedly know more about her than I ever will," I snapped back.
She stepped back and stared at me with her eyebrows raised. "Great. You're both on the rag. Today should be a real joy," she said in droll annoyance.
"Humph..." I snorted and turned in the direction of the others, my eyes gauging Brook's expression as I walked toward where she was standing with Pat.
"Hey, what's going on?"
"Nothing at all. Just... this is like a slave train. I want a damn day off. That's all I'm asking for!" Brook said and huffed off without properly greeting me. "I hate this fucking movie!" she said under her breath. Her director chuckled as I waited for an explanation.
"Well? What brought that on?" I questioned though I knew Brook’s sour mood came from my well-reported excursion the previous night.
"She wants time off this weekend and next weekend, but I can't change production. I don't get it. She's been so easy going. I thought she understood how this stuff works."
"She does." I shoved my hands in my pockets and watched Brook stomp off, feeling my heart drop to my stomach. Obviously she was mad about something, and I knew what that something was. I was getting so tired of the charades. If we were alone, she’d just yell at me and be done with it.
“Your client is acting like a spoiled diva, Jeanne. Fix it,” Patrick commanded.
Jeanne went toward Brook and held up her hand to halt her, but Brook kept walking. I stood watching and frozen next to Patrick, who shook his head in exasperation.
"She knows a lot of people are involved and the budget is what it is. Was she difficult on the Remembrance set?”
I shook my head. “It's not like her to blow like that. Something must have happened. I’m here this weekend, so that explains why she wants time now, but what’s happening next weekend? Why does she want time off then?"
He shrugged impatiently. “Damned if I know. Ask Jeanne. And tell her to get Brook’s ass back on my set! Pronto!”
I shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my black jeans. “Will do. Sorry Patrick. I’m sure Brook will get her head back in the film,” I said apologetically as he turned to walk away.
My breath rushed out as I watched Brook argue with Jeanne, not sure if I should interrupt. Soon, Brook was grabbing her hair with one hand, looking over her shoulder at me before storming off toward a trailer at the other end of the lot. Jeanne came toward me with an apologetic look on her face.
“What’s her problem?”
"Really? Are you serious, Cade?” Jeanne’s eyes widened incredulously as she pulled out a cigarette and a lighter from her purse. “Davina and the photo-fest. You two should be more concerned with anyone seeing you on this set, Cade. Jesus."
I bloody knew it already, but I was floundering for what to say. “I thought you said she’d handle that rubbish! And, why does she need two weekends off?
“She wants to go on a trip, alone.”
“Alone?”
“Yeah.” She blew smoke out impatiently. “You have to work, anyway.” It was just one more way to dig in the knife a little deeper.
I scowled. “So does Brook, Jeanne!”
"Uh huh. Don’t get your boxers in a bunch.” She took another drag from her cigarette. “Want one?”
I shook my head. I was trying to quit, but damned if I didn’t need it. “I don’t want her traveling alone.”
“Why don’t you rant at Brook, instead? It’s moot anyway! Go! I need her calm and on the other set ASAP. Go work your magic." She nod
ded in the direction of Brook's retreating figure. “I don’t need this temperamental bullshit right now.”
"Wha... uh," I stammered. "I might not be able to help. I’m the reason she’s upset."
I couldn't say that it disappointed me that Patrick Armstrong wasn't letting Brook off work, but then again, if he did, I might be subjected to watching her parade around with that ignorant twit, David, and a paparazzi free-for-all to follow. Personally, I didn’t understand how she could have ever found him the slightest bit appealing. There was a distinct gap in their intelligence levels, and he wasn’t even a nice guy; they just didn't fit. She was a thinker, and he was an asshole.
“Talk to her. Calm her down. That's what you always do. So do it." She looked at me pointedly. "Now."
I nodded and took off in a jog after Brook. It was the excuse I needed to talk to her alone. When I was within hearing distance, I began calling after her. "Brook! Wait!"
She stopped for a split second when she heard my voice behind her, but then kept on walking, picking up her pace as she got closer to her trailer.
"Brook! For Christ's sake!"
"Leave me alone. I've got work to do." She flung over her shoulder at me and kept walking as if the fires of hell were on her heels.
"Will you just wait?" She kept moving, not even slowing a little. I reached out and grabbed her arm, turning her but she jerked her arm away like my touch burned her. She was breathing hard and she looked up at me in a glare, her nostrils flaring.
"What's going on?"
"I just... I want some time. I need a break from... all this. Go back to New York."
My jaw set. I knew she meant me. She needed a break from me.
"We both know you don’t want me to go back to New York.”
“Arrogant, much?” She scowled at me.
“Why are you doing this? What has changed since we talked last?" Both of our voices were raised and I was concerned that the others could hear what was becoming a private conversation.
"Apparently every damn thing!"
"What in bloody hell are you talking about?" My own blood pressure was starting to rise. She had to know that any time I spent in Davina’s company was purely work related.
"I guess the studio is fine with you hanging out with Davina all the time?" she laughed, but it sounded more like a sob. "I knew it was coming, but already? I thought we talked about everything. Why is this the first I hear about it? From Wendy and the stupid rags?"
I shrugged my shoulders and ran a hand through my hair, half turning away from her. I shook my head. I mean what in the hell was I supposed to do? I should have known that vapid bitch was stirring the pot.
“Yes. Wendy’s always such a good friend. Have you lost your senses?” I was getting angry at the sheer stupidity of Brook’s doubt. “This is crazy, Brook. Why are you even talking to Wendy?”
Brooks jaw jutted out in defiance, but she didn’t speak.
"You know the studio insisted on it; it’s no different than your charade with David. Davina knows about us," I said softly. "Why are you so pissed off, anyway?"
"I'm not." She angrily brushed an errant tear off of her cheek. "I mean, I don't know."
"Look, I'm dealing with the same things you are. Even more. The time we've been together means everything to me. But—!"
She was upset and couldn't meet my eyes and I couldn’t stand it. My throat was tightening up, making it difficult to talk. I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and haul her off where no one was looking and leave her in no doubt of my feelings for her. But I couldn't.
"But, I can’t let this, whatever it is, take over. I can't lose my grip on reality. The reality is, that we have months of separation in front of us! We can’t lose it over a couple of weeks, and a couple of staged outings."
Her mouth dropped open and she sucked in her breath before turning and resuming her run away from me toward her trailer. “I don’t have time to talk about it now.”
"No, Brook. I won't let you accuse me of this and then run away. We're going to talk. Now." I grabbed Brook’s arm and jerked her toward the trailer, opening the door and staring pointedly at her until she acquiesced. As she stormed in, I noticed several members of the crew watching us from a distance as I followed. I didn't give a fuck what they were thinking. I shut the door and closed the window shades so no one would be able to see what was going on between us.
“Patrick wants me on set!” Tears were running silently down her face when I turned to her. I opened my mouth to speak but shut it as I considered what I wanted to say. I needed to calm down. I was older and more experienced with the ways of Hollywood, and she’d seen how women acted around me. I sighed heavily, trying to calm my temper.
“Who bloody cares? Look, we’ll have many films to make without each other. That’s our life. You have to trust me. What is it you expect from me, Brooklyn?" I asked softly.
She brought the back of her hand up to her nose and she closed her eyes. When she spoke, her voice cracked. "I don't know, Cade, okay?" She looked at her lap and took a shaky breath. "I want us to be like we've been. I miss you. You’re my best friend. It’s not as much fun this time."
I closed my eyes. "I know, it’s the same for me. Why are you letting something we prepared forget to you?” I asked simply, but the fact was I ached for her; body and soul. "We tell each other everything, so why do you just believe this bullshit as gospel without asking me first? We knew this would happen; we talked about it. A few bloody photographs and you forgot those conversations?” When she didn't say anything or look at me, I continued. "We should let the world know about us, but you and your team don’t want that." I drew in a breath so deep I thought my lungs would bloody explode. "If you want to have a normal relationship, we can’t care what people think or what the studio will do."
Finally, she turned to me and lifted her blue eyes to mine. "I know. I'm not handling these feelings very well, but I have more to lose. You already have your career, Cade. I'm trying to build one."
My chest constricted at her words. I was stunned she doubted I’d consider her career as important as mine.
"I can touch you and kiss you as Ryan on a screen, but it's me, okay? It's bloody me! That said; I can't live in a dream world, hoping you'll eventually come to the same conclusion that we need to tell the studio to fuck off and screw the consequences. I mean, who in the hell are we fucking trying to convince?" I knew the tone in my voice was getting urgent and elevated but I couldn't help it. “Do you think the fans don’t already know?”
Her blue eyes widened and became big limpid pools. "Cade, please! Jeanne is advising me we need to keep our relationship private. Not just for me, but for you. I'm just... I'm trying to sort through it all. "
"Well, do it faster, will you? Because it's bloody ripping my guts out! I’m sure she has outings set up with your co-star, yet you're pissed at me because Davina followed me out with Daniel? Can't you see how hypocritical that is?" My heart was bursting in my chest and I could feel my eyes prick with unshed tears. I turned away so she wouldn't see.
"I saw the interview; I saw the pictures! My head knows it’s all bullshit, but it still hurts to watch it! This type of jealousy hasn’t happened to me before you, and I hate it. I'm so screwed up and I don't know what the hell I'm doing. I just—"
"Think about what you just said. It hasn't happened to you before. Why do you think that is? Because it's fucking us, okay?" I was so frustrated I wanted to scream. I fisted both of my hands in my hair and softened my voice. "It's because it's you and me. It's a first for me too, and I don't just mean with other actors in roles. I mean, it's never been more than a job for me before!”
I hadn’t given much thought to her new co-star. Pinnacle was using Brook’s thrust off our films to put her on screen with a few bigger names in support roles, and a new unknown actor opposite her on lead. They were smart; using her success to help launch the career of a new actor they could capitalize on. However, I didn’t give him much thought.
I was more worried about David being in L.A. with her when I wasn’t around. Surely he’d try to get her back, and it was always in the back of my mind. It was the reason I wanted to come to her set, instead of having her come to mine. I wanted to see what was happening. “Think about me for a change! The press paints horror stories about you and this guy, plus… " I decided to put it out there. “David is here. He’d be stupid not to try to get you back while I’m gone.”
She bowed her head and her shoulders shook with the force of her tears, but she was silent. I could only hear her sniffles and gasps. My heart ached and I reached out to enfold her in my arms. She melted into me and I turned my face into her glorious, though now a shorter, mane of hair. I sucked in her scent as if my life depended on it and kissed her temple.
When I pulled back, I tilted her chin up so I could look in her face and brushed her hair back. "But I have to trust you, and I need you to trust me. We've still got a couple of months apart and I don't want to spend it fighting with you. The separation is harder when we're fussing with each other. If you don't want me to do any appearances with Davina, then I won't."
Her little face crumpled and she shook her head. "You can’t do that. That's not fair. I know you have the same obligations that I do. I think I was more upset at myself today than at you. I get pissed that I can't control my feelings."
"Some things are bigger than we are."
"When did you get so damn smart?" She tried to smile and I couldn't help a small grin, but I shrugged.
"It’s not easy for me, either. I had to accept that you'll be surrounded by a bunch of new men and that you have to get naked on screen with someone else.”
“She’s getting naked with you, Cade! Did you forget what you filmed this morning?”
I inhaled. “So what? It’s not the same thing.” I knew my statement might piss her off, but I had to be honest; I didn’t think about Davina half-naked with me, in the same way I thought of Brook half-naked with another man, but I tried to turn it into a joke. “I’ve got those knickers on the whole time. If you want to flash your knockers, that’s your decision.” I tried to coax a laugh out of her. “But it won’t be as much fun with what’s-his-name. What is his name, again?”
