by Mia Sheridan
I smiled at her again and asked, "This your first shoot?"
"Yes, and I specifically asked for you for my first time," she batted her eyelashes. "I've had a crush on you since I saw your picture on Courtney's website. This is gonna be fun!"
Interesting. I backed away. "Well, I gotta shower, but I'll be out in a few," I said, turning.
"I'll be ready for you!" she called after me.
I went into the bathroom and took a quick shower, and then asked the makeup people if they could pull the chair into the bathroom. I wasn't in the mood to chat with Bambi, or anyone for that matter. I needed some time to get my head in the game here, so to speak. Or at the very least, my body.
Unlike the longer-length films I had done, this was just a one-day shoot so at least it'd be over after today.
Thankfully makeup wasn't a big production on a shoot like this one, especially for me. Anything applied would just rub off so not much was used. Courtney came in and kissed my cheek. "Hey babe," she said. "You look tired." She looked at the girl touching me up. "Put some concealer under his eyes Marcia."
"I'm fine, Courtney. Dim the lights."
"Even dim lights won't hide those bags, love. What'd you do? Stay up all night partying?"
I snorted. "I wish."
Marcia rubbed something under my eyes and blotted it and then signaled that she was done.
Courtney looked down at my boxers. "Need some time alone, hon?"
"Yeah," I answered already wondering if I'd be able to get it up at all.
"Okay, the shoot calls for Bambi to touch herself for a few minutes on the bed and then you come join her, ready to start the party, got it? You'll move out on to the balcony after a few minutes and continue there."
"Yeah. Okay."
"Good." She looked at me for a couple beats, but then cleared out and closed the door behind her.
I stood there still for a couple minutes as I heard the music start in the bedroom beyond. I dropped my boxers and leaned back on the sink and tried to get in the mood. It wasn't working. I thought about all the sex I'd had this weekend with Grace. Maybe I had overdone it. Grace. I felt a twitch and as I pictured her bent over the bed in heels and a thong, begging for me to take her, I hardened fully. I pictured all of the ways I had taken her over the weekend and after a couple minutes, I was painfully hard.
There was a soft knock on the door indicating they were ready for me. I walked out and watched for a minute as Bambi writhed on the bed, moaning in an over-the-top way, her hand between her legs. I almost lost my erection. I closed my eyes and pictured Grace again and moved toward the bed. I joined Bambi and as I sat down beside her, she sat up slightly and started kissing me, thrusting her tongue in my mouth and moaning loudly. I almost grimaced. She didn't taste like sunshine and sweetness. I opened my eyes and looked down her body. Her skin wasn't pale and creamy, it was dark and overly tanned. I shut my eyes quickly and tried to bring Grace to mind. I had to keep her face and body in my brain if I was going to do this. I reached up to touch her hair and it wasn't heavy silk in my hand, it was dry and crispy with hairspray. We continued kissing and she brought her hand up to my cheek, the one that she had used to touch herself. I smelled her essence on her hand and that was it. I broke away from her and stood up. "Sorry," I muttered. "Not your fault but this isn't working for me."
"Cut!" I heard yelled.
I walked into the bathroom, retrieved my clothes and started pulling them on as Courtney's voice sounded at the door. "Carson, babe, if you need a little more time or maybe a blue pill I've got you covered."
I opened the door, pulling on my shoes. I pushed past Courtney. "Sorry, Courtney, I really am. But I can't do this anymore." I looked around the room in general, catching sight of a pouting Bambi pulling a robe on in the corner. "I'm sorry for wasting all of your time. I don't know what to say. I'm just… sorry." Then I walked to the door of the suite, opened it and closed it behind me quietly.
* * *
I walked back to the elevators and pushed the "down" button. What the fuck had I just done? I was gonna get sued and I'd never make a film again. So why didn't I give even a small rat's ass right now? I was basically penniless and jobless and I felt… fine. What exactly are you going to do now fuckwit? What about a fucking plan before you do some shit like that? I laughed out loud. A plan. I reached both hands up and laced my fingers together, putting them on my forehead and letting my head fall back. I stood like that for a minute until I heard the elevator ding and the doors start to open. I dropped my hands and started stepping toward it, when I saw who was getting off. Shit! Tim.
He looked surprised. "Carson," he said, frowning, "you can't be done already." He looked down at his watch, his frown deepening. The elevator doors closed behind him and he took a step closer to me.
I took a deep breath. "The shoot is over, Tim. But only because I walked out."
His brows snapped down. "You walked out? What the hell is going on?"
I shook my head slightly. "Listen, Tim, I would have called you later to let you know. But I'm done. I'm not gonna be making films anymore."
He looked at me for a second, his eyes narrowing. Then he let out a sharp laugh, lacking in any humor. "Well, Goddamn. She must have been one hell of a fuck for you to throw your whole career away. Now I really wish she had taken me up on my offer to join me in my hotel room."
I jolted. "Your offer?" I asked, watching him closely for a couple beats. "Your fucking offer?" I repeated, realization that Tim had propositioned Grace when he came to my hotel room the day before, crashing into me.
I moved on him before he even knew what was coming, grabbing his dress shirt and walking him backwards until I slammed him against the wall. Rage was pumping through my blood as I got right up in his face. "You sick, depraved mother fucker. How dare you speak to her like that! How dare you even fucking look at her! I should beat the living shit out of you!"
"What the fuck are you doing?" he interrupted, yelling. "Over a piece of ass, Carson? Over a fucking piece of ass?"
A coldness spread through me as I took him in for a beat, balled up my fist and smashed it into his face. Blood spurted from his nose and I let go of him, letting him sink to the floor. He looked up at me dazedly.
I stepped back and pushed the elevator button again. That same coldness took over my body, the feeling that I was watching the scene from above washing through me. In that moment, something felt like it clicked into place, my body jolting slightly. "I'll no longer require your representation, Tim," I said, without emotion. I felt nothing for the sleazy asshole bleeding on the floor in front of me, nothing but hollow contempt. The elevator doors opened and I stepped into it, my eyes never leaving him as the doors between us closed.
* * *
I hopped in my car, a black Nissan Pathfinder that I had bought six months ago after signing with Courtney, and sat there without starting it for a couple minutes, staring unseeing out my window. I leaned forward and banged my head on the steering wheel, resting there for a minute as I cleared my head. I leaned up and started my car and drove like a homing pigeon to the entrance of the freeway. As I drove, I glanced up at a billboard I'd seen a thousand times driving through this part of the city, and my eyes drank it in for the first time, seeing it from a different perspective now. A feeling flowed through me that I couldn't explain, a strange energy that suddenly pulsed through my veins at the idea forming in my brain. Without thinking too much, I pulled out my phone and looked up an address on the Internet. I turned on my GPS and followed the prompts until I arrived at my destination in Santa Monica about twenty minutes later. I parked and got out of my car before I could talk myself out of this. As I was pulling the door open, I glanced up at the sign, Navy Recruiting.
One chance to change your mind, Carson. I paused for a second, but then pulled the door fully open.
I walked in and was immediately greeted by a man wearing a khaki uniform, with a nametag and a few ribbons on his shirt. "Can I help you?" he asked
.
Was I really going to do this? Grace's face popped into my head. "I'm here to enlist," I said.
"Well, okay then, I'm your guy," he said on a big smile. "Come on over with me. I'm Petty Officer First Class, Duane Mitchell," he said, stopping to shake my hand quickly and then continuing on to his desk. He sat behind it and indicated a chair on the other side. I sat down.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Carson Stinger."
"Okay, Carson, well before we get started with anything, let's chat for a minute. What's brought you to this decision?" He leaned back in his chair, studying me.
I cleared my throat. "Well, to be honest, I don't really have any options that look a whole lot better. I'm not the college type. I already know that. I want to do something worthwhile with my life."
He nodded. "Well, that's as good a reason as any. Now let me ask you this, have you thought about what job you'd like to do?"
"Uh, not really. I kind of just decided I was gonna do this about half an hour ago."
He laughed. "Right. Well, what are you good at?"
I thought about that for a second. "I'm a great swimmer and I'm good at extreme sports."
Petty Officer Mitchell studied me again for a couple seconds. He nodded his head toward a poster of a group of men in dive gear, machine guns in hand emerging from the water. "Ever heard of a Navy SEAL?"
"A SEAL? Yeah, of course. I'd be suited to be a SEAL?" I asked.
"Well, I don't know. You'd need to score really high on a test called the ASVAB and then pass a physical test during basic training that will ensure you a spot in BUD/S, which stands for Basic Underwater Demolition SEAL Training." He paused, eyeing me, but I remained silent. He went on. "Then you have to make it through basic training and A-School. And then, if you're lucky enough to make it to BUD/S, only about twenty percent of men actually make it through, which means eighty percent fail. So, are you suited to be a SEAL? Not many men are. But if you're a good swimmer and you like sports that are dangerous and take a high level of skill, it's a decent start. But I'll be honest with you, BUD/S is the most rigorous military training on the face of the planet earth. Think on it carefully."
I nodded, furrowing my brow. I didn't need to think on it carefully. My answer came to my lips almost before my brain could process it. "Let's get started," I said.
CHAPTER 14
Grace
I sat on my bed half-heartedly studying. My heart was heavy and I felt a longing inside me that I didn't know what to do with. I missed him, plain and simple. When was this going to get better? It had been a couple days since I'd gotten home from Vegas and it felt like my feelings were intensifying instead of weakening. I had only known him for two and a half days. Didn't it make sense that I could forget him in that amount of time too? I sighed and lay back on my pillow, staring at the ceiling. What was he doing right now? I cringed when I thought of the very real possibility that he was on set again. Then again, he'd told me that he had only made four films in six months and he'd just made one a couple days before. A fierce surge of disgust rose up in me when I pictured him with someone else, even someone he'd never see again. I wanted to scream at the very thought. And then I wanted to throw myself on the floor and cry until I was exhausted and numb. That's what you get when you develop feelings for a porn star. I was an idiot, just like Abby had jokingly called me.
But how had he handled it? Had it been hard for him too, like he'd told me it would be? He'd said I'd changed things for him. And realistically, what that meant was that my short-term legacy would be that I made his life more difficult. I couldn't feel badly about that. I hoped I had ruined his ability to do porn. He could do so much more. I couldn't be the one to make up his mind about that though. He'd have to do that himself. It's why I had walked away. It's why I had had no choice but to walk away. God, he probably wished he'd never met me.
I didn't feel that way about him though, as much as I hurt. I knew what he did, but he was more to me than that. If he weren't, it would have been easy to walk away. I might have even run. And therein lay the problem. An impossible problem.
I lay there for a little while longer, lost in my thoughts when I got a very, very bad idea. I wrestled with it for a few minutes before I stood up and grabbed my laptop off my desk. I powered it up and sat cross-legged on my bed, my hands shaking as I typed his name into Google search. The first site on the list was a website called ArtLove.com and against my better judgment, I clicked on it. I knew this was a bad idea and yet it was like I was possessed. I was powerless to stop myself.
"Grace?" Abby called, as I heard the front door shut.
"In here," I called back, reducing the screen before it had fully loaded.
I heard her footsteps and looked up from the computer when she appeared in my doorway in her school uniform, black pants and a white chef's coat.
"What are you doing?" she asked, taking her hair out of the ponytail it was in and massaging her scalp.
"Um, looking up porn," I said, half-grimacing, half-smiling.
Abby's hand froze in her hair. "Uh, okay. You do have a lock on your door, you know?"
I rolled my eyes. "I'm looking up Carson, Abby," I said.
She stared at me for a minute. "Honey, is that such a good idea?" she asked gently.
"Probably not, but it's like I have to see it. I have to know the reality of it. I have to move on." I looked at her sadly.
She hesitated, but then came and sat down on the bed next to me. "All right then, doll, I'm gonna hold your hand."
"Thanks, Abs," I said as I clicked on the reduced screen to bring it up. I gasped.
I had never looked at porn before and so I had no idea what to expect. My eyes grew large as I saw naked people engaged in all-manner of sex acts. "Oh my God," I breathed.
I looked over at Abby and her head was tilted and a small smile was on her face. "This is the site he works for?" she asked.
I nodded. "He said he has a two-year contract. It must be with this site. Why?"
She looked at me. "Have you ever seen porn, honey?"
I shook my head.
"Well, compared to what's out there, this is actually very… artistic."
I looked back at the screen. I could see what she meant. Most of the scenes were on beautiful beaches or in opulent looking homes or patios. The people were all good-looking. I scrolled down, looking more closely. Seriously, the women looked like they could be supermodels. Why did they do this? Same reason Carson did, I guess? Didn't it cause real relationship problems for them too? Both now and later? I shook my head, attempting to clear it. This would never make sense to me.
When I tried to click on one of the videos, a pop up box came up saying that if I wanted to watch the full video, I would need to become a member, and spelling out the different membership options.
I glanced at Abby and then typed Carson's name into the site search bar. Immediately, a page loaded and I let out a tiny gasp. There were stills of Carson actively having sex with different women in multiple screen shots. My brain couldn't keep up with my eyes as I let out a small, choked sob and Abby squeezed my hand, saying "Let's turn this off, honey…"
"No, not yet," I said, my voice sounding very far away to my own ears. I needed to see this. I needed to see the truth of what he did.
"Gracie, these are things he did before he even met you," she said quietly.
"These ones are, Abby, but if I come back here and look next month, there will be a new one, maybe two," I said miserably.
Abby squeezed my hand. "You won't do that though right, hon?"
I shook my head. "No, just this once. I just need to remind myself why I can't contact him. Why I have to let him go."
She shook her head sadly and we both looked at the photos in silence for a minute.
"Holy hell, sweetie, you were right, he's hot."
I looked at her, my brows snapping down.
"Sorry, not helpful," she muttered, looking back at the screen.
; As I too looked back at the photos, feeling simultaneously empty and sickened, it registered that the look on his face was… wrong. It was… it was the same look I had seen on his face in the lobby of the Bellagio when we first met and then again at the bar. It wasn't the look that had been on his face when he was with me in bed. He had his mask on in these pictures. But it was little comfort. I felt the vomit rise up my throat, and I stumbled off the bed and ran to the bathroom just in time to lose my lunch.
* * *
Carson
Shit, this was gonna suck. I took a deep breath and pulled the door open. Irene, Courtney's elderly receptionist looked up from her computer screen. "Hey, Carson." She smiled. I smiled back warily. Well, at least her reaction to me wasn't calling security like I thought it might be.
"Hey Irene. Courtney in?" I leaned on her desk and she batted her lashes up at me. I usually flirted with her when I came in. I just didn't have it in me this time.
Irene furrowed her brow. "She is, hon. Do you have an appointment with her?" She started flipping through her book. "I don't see–"
"No, Irene, I don't. I'm actually–"
"Carson."
I looked up and Courtney was standing in the doorway of her office, in a gray skirt and a light pink blouse, her black hair hanging straight and long down her back, her face expressionless. Shit.
"Courtney, hi." I walked toward her. "I'm sorry, I haven't called you and I didn't make an appointment, I just–"
"Carson, come on into my office."
I followed along behind her, like a kid who had been called to the principal's office, a kid who knew he was guilty and deserved exactly what he was about to get. After the way things had gone with Tim, I was not hopeful that this meeting would go well. Again, this was gonna suck.
Courtney sat down behind her desk and I took the chair in front of it. As I opened my mouth to speak, Irene's voice said behind me, "Can I get some coffee? Tea?"
