by Lia London
“Always,” he said, grabbing a waxy tissue to wrap around a maple bar.
Georgia eyed the pastry. “Only one? I heard there might be someone else staying with you.”
Guy’s tongue doubled in size for an instant before he forced a swallow. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t you have a girlfriend now?”
“I … uh …”
Georgia shimmied, making puffs of flour fly up from her apron. “Guy’s got a girl!”
“News travels faster than reality, I guess.”
“Oh?” She resumed stacking doughnuts on the rack, chocolate frosted next to the glazed. “I heard—”
“Source, Georgia. Give me your source.”
“Duh. Delores.”
Guy rolled his eyes and chuckled. “She’s a bit ahead of herself on this.”
Georgia set the empty tray back on her rolling rack and grabbed another. “Okay, because I think my sister would be interested in trying again. She saw you at Rosario the other day and hasn’t stopped talking about it.”
“Ah. How nice of her to say so.” Guy stuffed the maple bar into his mouth to keep from commenting further. Georgia’s sister, Renee, had been one of his first girlfriends in high school. When his anxiety attacks had increased to the point of interfering with going to class, she dumped him for a boy with a better attendance record. “Does she still work in the gift shop there?” he asked through the mouthful.
“Uh-huh.” Georgia wagged a finger at him. “You’re supposed to pay first.”
“They’ll see the wax paper and maple crumbs in my beard. No worries. I know the code. You know I do this every time.” He winked and made his way to the check-out line. He handed a dollar to the balding cashier and saluted with the remains of his maple bar.
Outside, he gave the last little corner of his treat to Booster, and the two of them strolled home slowly. Booster read all the “posts” other dogs left behind on bushes and hydrants, adding “comments” of his own. Meanwhile, Guy pondered his past relationships with Renee and several others. The more he analyzed the break-ups, the more he realized none of them had involved a discussion about his social anxiety. He had been so careful to avoid triggers, some of them never found out. The girls and women who had left him all complained that they never went anywhere exciting together, calling him anti-social because he wouldn’t go to bars or parties, but they saw him as an introvert, not understanding how he craved company, but couldn’t handle it on their crowd-intensive terms. He’d been too afraid to tell them the truth.
But Parker hadn’t been bored by the things he took her to see, had she? And she’d witnessed an actual panic attack without completely freaking out herself. Instead she showed compassion and took him off alone again.
Guy drew a deep breath and crossed the street to the labyrinth garden beside Emmanuel Episcopal church. Running his fingers through his hair, he studied the circular pattern of paving stones. It wasn’t really a maze. One started at one end and followed the twists and turns until it arrived in the middle. There were no dead ends or wrong turns to take.
He unclipped Booster’s leash. “Stay close, Boo. I’m going to untie myself.” With unhurried steps, he began the path, noting how it circled around and then doubled back unexpectedly. He couldn’t always guess where he would be ten seconds further along unless he stopped to trace the lines with his eyes. Though not intuitive, the course led to the heart of the circle. When he arrived in the middle, Booster trotted up to join him. Though attending church triggered his anxiety, Guy often found solace on the grounds, and the ritual of walking the labyrinth served as a poignant reminder that life can go in many directions before finding a center.
As he stood in the gray morning, contemplating the walk, Guy absorbed for the first time the idea that he had walked every single step of the path, no matter where it led. All of it. Maybe it was time for him to walk a larger path, step-by-step, and see where it would take him.
Maybe, if Parker were with him, he could step off the island without fear.
But Parker was gone.
Slick Patton sneered at Parker. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you’d found yourself a steaming hot lover during your little getaway.”
She blushed before adopting her usual cold mask. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’ve never seen you so distracted. And you have this sort of mystical glow about you.” Slick Patton, British action star, aging hunk, and co-star judge on the show’s panel, represented everything suave and slimy rolled into one. Her loathing of him increased the longer she knew him. “Very alluring.”
“Put your tongue back in your mouth, Slick.”
“Too bad I don’t know you well enough to know what kind of man could crack your shell. I bet you’re a wild thing once you’re set free.” He strutted to where she sat in her director’s canvas chair, blocking her escape.
She clenched her fists in her lap. “Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?”
“But I’m here to welcome you back,” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “I haven’t seen you since the Team Northwest shoots, and I always enjoyed our little sessions together.”
Parker blinked slowly. “You’re kidding me. Ours were the only shoots without the sex scenes you drool over.”
“You had Jill Ripley.”
“Who fainted and got voted off.” Parker knew Jill had faked her own live television catastrophe to get out of the show, but she would never reveal the secret.
“Too bad she didn’t have your nerves of steel.” Slick leered closer. “If we could put her body and your fire into one woman.” He groaned sensually.
Parker shook her head and wriggled past him, wincing as his hand brushed against the scrapes on her left arm. “You’re getting worse with age, Slick.”
Slick clucked his tongue and strutted over to the table laden with refreshments for the crew. “Yes, Parker got some action last week.” He raised his arms in a chest-expanding stretch. “Or wanted to.” He nodded knowingly at a camera operative who crammed several breakfast croissants onto a small paper plate.
“I hate this job. I hate this job. I hate this job,” muttered Parker under her breath. Bellowing across the sound stage, she waved print-outs of Jill’s story changes. “Okay, everybody. Team meeting now! I’ve got some script changes to go over. This will be your chance to show you have something more to offer—something that can’t be bought or …” She fluttered her fingers at Brianna’s figure. “Built.”
As she passed out the script changes to the cast members, Parker processed what she’d just said. Hadn’t she just been bought with a five-digit bonus? Wasn’t she building her resume?
For the umpteenth time that morning, Guy’s face flashed into her mind.
Turning to Dwayne, she narrowed her eyes. “How would you feel about growing a beard?”
“Uh. Okay.”
“Good. Get to work on that.” Parker tucked her clipboard under her arm and clapped her hands. “All right, let’s do this!”
Disaster #14 ~ Something Completely Crazy
On Tuesday night, Guy and Clay sat in his dad’s living room waiting for the ads to end.
“Will we see her at all?” asked Clay.
“No, she’s not an actress, Dad. She’s the director.”
“Of a reality show? I thought they made everything up.”
“Yes, and no. She has to prep them. In this stage of the game, they’re doing scripted stuff, and it’s her job to get them ready.”
“So, they’re not eating bugs or running around naked?”
Guy laughed. “Not that kind of reality show, Dad. These are wannabe soap stars.”
Clay scoffed. “Just the naked part, then.”
“Not if Parker can help it. She’s trying to make it classier.”
“Parker? I thought her name was Daisy.”
“Daisy Parker.” Guy pointed at the screen. “Sh. They’re starting.”
“Daisy suits her better t
han Parker.” Clay sniffed and reached for his soda. “If this gets embarrassing, I’m going to head out to the garage to tune up the Chevy.”
“Dad, seriously. Be quiet.” He turned his attention to the screen where Slick Patton and Kamilah Krussman waved to a packed auditorium and Jay Walker performed the same cheesy poses and jokes he used for every reality show he ever hosted. A lump formed in Guy’s throat as he tried to fathom being in a performing arena so large. Huge crowds filled Parker’s world. How could anything ever work out between them?
Unexpectedly, the camera cut to a shot of Parker standing in the wings off stage in a dazzling, form-fitting, black dress with the cut-away shoulders. The contestants were gathered around her, listening to her final notes, and she looked poised and powerful. Guy couldn’t blink. When she waved at the camera, he gave her two thumbs up, even though he knew she couldn’t see him.
“Well, that ought to keep you awake for the show. Wow.” Clay chuckled. “Didn’t know she looked like that.” He gave a wry smile. “Did you?”
Mouth still open in a sloppy grin, Guy shook his head. Parker had been pale and bruised when he’d even barely glimpsed her body, so no. He had no idea she was this lovely. “She cleans up all right, huh?”
“Maybe you ought to try cleaning up a bit,” suggested Clay.
Guy grunted a dismissal of the idea until the scene cut to a brawny young man who looked like every other creature featured on gossip and entertainment magazines as an ideal of manliness. Bubbles in Guy’s gut churned as he suddenly felt like a skinny little geek compared to the person Jay Walker called Dwayne.
He forced himself to watch, though, and found himself caught between snorting with skepticism at plot twists and admiring camera angles. The story went in a freakish, but almost plausible direction with the blonde bimbo dealing with a medical condition that rendered both face and body a little baggier than he remembered. It created less eye candy for lusty male viewers, but in retrospect, how many men sat around watching soap operas? If this was Parker’s input, it could prove genius as a way to make the characters more relatable to the average female daytime drama fan without taking away the rich glitz and the over-abundance of washboard abs in the men.
“Weird show,” said Clay, yawning and leaning back during the commercial. “But at least it’s not another dumb sex scene. I get so tired of those. Puts all these expectations on the men to be …” He gestured with his pop can vaguely at the screen. “That. Not real.”
When the episode came to the concluding moments before the nationwide vote, Guy leaned forward, knees bobbing as he listened to the judge panel feedback.
Kamilah Krussman gushed about the level of drama and the new spin on the story line. She seemed genuinely surprised by the blonde girl’s “diagnosis”, but urged her to fight forward and prove she was a survivor.
Guy bit his nails as the attention turned to Slick Patton, whose habitual posture of boredom had been replaced by an enigmatic scowl.
“Brianna, nobly done. The scriptwriters certainly gave you a cruel twist there, but I’m sure you can come out on top. We’re reaching the climax of the season, and you’ll have to suck it up and drive hard to the end, showing how much you want this job.”
The blonde beamed through her unflattering make-up and stood so her figure denied the frumpiness of her costume. “Thanks, Slick. I’ll do my best,” she said with a seductive lilt.
He gave her a smug wink. “I know you will.”
Guy stared. “Why did that sound like they just made some kind of sordid contract?”
“Oh, get your mind out of the gutter, Guy.” Clay yawned again. “You’re above all that.”
“Yeah, but I don’t know that Slick Patton is.”
“Who cares about Slick Patton?” Clay mumbled sleepily. “He doesn’t affect Daisy, does he?”
“I don’t know.”
His answer came a second later, when Slick added an aside comment to Kamilah. “The season finale director will need to up the heat, too, if the show is going to end with any kind of long-term future.”
“Was that a threat?” Guy narrowed his eyes. “I don’t trust him.”
“You’re getting yourself all worked up, Guy. Reading things into what he’s saying.”
“No, Dad. Daisy told me the guy was all about fast women, and—”
“Your girlfriend isn’t a fast woman.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Then you should have moved faster.”
“I moved fast enough,” said Guy, tensing.
Clay nodded. “But you weren’t willing to move far enough.”
Parker exited into the private lot after the show and stopped in her tracks. Under the security light, two spaces away, Slick Patton’s BMW was still parked. Hadn’t he gone home an hour ago? She peered through the darkened glass, but couldn’t see anyone inside.
“Looking for me?”
She turned to find him in the doorway. “What are you still doing here, Slick? Hiding one of your starlet wannabes with you backstage? Letting her know how you can help her in into show business?”
“I’m as bored with wannabes as you are, Parker.”
“Seriously, where is she? Is she even old enough to drive?”
“You know I’m not reckless.”
Parker snorted. “Then what? Are you meeting up with Tallahassee or something?”
“You mean Brianna?” Slick flicked the name away like an annoying fly. “Been there, done her.”
“What?!” Parker could feel her body transforming into a red-hot iron rod. “I’ll get you fired so fast you—”
“You can’t do that if it’s consensual.” Slick took a step closer, his lecherous grin almost green under the strange lights. “You see, she never wanted Charles, but me …” He held his hands out towards her, inviting her to come to him. “Well, I know what I’m doing.”
Parker backed away towards her own car. “And right now, you are approaching a line.”
“I know it.” His voice was sultry, and he sauntered closer. “A line you know you want to cross. Straight-laced, high-strung Daisy Parker, I know your type. Driven. If I talked the execs into giving you a five-digit bonus, don’t you think I can get you more?”
Bile rose in Parker’s throat. “You were the one…?”
“I told them you were the best of the regional directors.” He eased into a position with an arm on either side of her, his hands resting on the hood of her car. Though he wasn’t touching her, Parker’s stomach tightened at the threat when the angle forced her pelvis forward. His accent took on the seductive lilt he used in all his action movies for the romantic scenes. “For the love of peanut butter, Parker,” he teased. “Don’t you want to see why Brianna didn’t complain? Why none of them ever do?”
Parker swallowed. Slick Patton had gotten her this gig? Why? Because she was the best, or so he could …? She met his eyes, like a snake, attractive and deadly. Stalling, she fluttered her lashes at him like she’d coached Brianna to do with Dwayne. “But if you can seduce all those beautiful women, what would you want with me?”
He caressed her chin with his thumb, leaning close enough for his musky cologne to cloud her senses. “Don’t sell yourself short, Parker. You have much more to offer than you think.” He smirked and eased his body against hers. “And so do I. Wanna see?”
Tears welled in her eyes, and her heart raced, as if trying to escape.
Slick’s gaze moved to her lips. “See? You feel the heat already, just thinking about what I can do for you.” His hand slid over her shoulder and down her back, pausing on her rear end.
Parker let out an irritated groan as she struggled to control her temper and wriggle to a more upright position. What should she do? The business was full of ethical compromises, but was it worth it? Did she want this enough? What kind of a trap was this?
“That’s right, little lady. Moan for me.” His arms tightened around her as she stood, and his tongue traced the edge of her ear w
ith practiced skill.
Parker whimpered and closed her eyes, then reached up and laced her fingers through his hair to clasp the back of his head. As he began nibbling at the back of her neck, she made a decision that would affect her whole future. Her expression softened. “You really think so, Slick?”
His eyes flashed with hunger, and his hands swept up her torso, cupping the contents of her bra. “With a little bit of work,” he said with a playful squeeze. “You could be the hottest—”
Summoning all her strength, Parker yanked his head down and thrust her knee up, catching him hard in the groin. He stumbled to the side, gurgling and bracing himself on the side of her car. “With a whole lot of work, you could be a man!” she spat.
Twenty seconds later, she was screeching out onto the dark city street, thinking even faster than she was driving.
Parker glared at her phone, willing her gate departure time to change. No luck. Suddenly the phone buzzed in her hand.
“Guy?” Her voice jumped up an octave. “I’m so glad you called! I—”
“I just did something crazy,” he blurted.
Parker gulped. “Yeah, so did I.”
“I’m kind of freaked out about it.”
“So am I.”
“Wait, what did you do?”
“I … kneed Slick Patton in the nuts, called the studio to turn down a contract worth $425,000, and now I’m skipping town to get to you in time for Thanksgiving.”
The taxi driver swore. “Man, lady. You are crazy!”
Parker glared at his back. “Just get me to LAX stat.”
“Did you really?!” Guy coughed. “That’s … incredible!”
“It is, isn’t it?” She released a shuddering breath. “He totally groped me in the parking lot—”
“He what?! I’ll kill him!”
“No, no. I’ll out him and sue him. He’s coming down.”
“But then you didn’t need to quit,” said Guy.
Parker licked her lips and cradled the phone closer. “Yes. Yes, I did. I don’t belong there anymore. Not after Orcas Island. Not … after you.”
