Walker Spirit

by Bernadette Marie

  Audrey pulled the key fob from her purse and unlocked her car. As she opened the door, she turned to Gregory. “Thank you for the nice evening, and for the dress. It was fun to play dress-up and go out.”

  “You’re very welcome,” he replied as she started to climb into her car. “Wait.”

  Audrey stopped and stood to look at him.

  “I’d like to take you out again if you’d consider it.”

  She worried her lip a moment. “You want to go out with me again?”

  “I would.”

  “I’m just a hair stylist from Macon, Georgia. Are you sure you want to waste your time on me?”

  Gregory took a step closer, his hands still in his pockets. “It’s not wasting my time. I’m intrigued by you, and I’d like to spend a little more time with you.”

  What was she getting herself into? She was fairly sure it was the lead-up to heartbreak, but she couldn’t help herself. Looking into those dark eyes, she got a bit lost.

  “Okay. I’ll accept your offer. But when will you have time?”

  “I’ll call you. I have read-throughs tomorrow, so I’m unsure of my schedule.”

  That she expected. Even though she’d accepted his invitation, she was sure that it would take a bit more work to get together. Maybe she wouldn’t see him again after all, but she’d let him think they would.

  “Give me your phone,” she instructed. He pulled it from his pocket, unlocked it, and handed it to her. “You’re not afraid that I’ll see something you don’t want me to?”

  “Swipe left and right. I have nothing to hide,” he offered, and his eyes were sincere.

  Maybe he was straight up, just as he’d said he was at dinner.

  Audrey typed her phone number into the contacts and then took a photo of herself and added it to the contact. It made her giggle to herself, and she noticed his grin.

  “Okay, you can get a hold of me now,” she told him as she handed him back his phone. “I won’t hold you to it. I know you’re going to be busy, and I know I’m not your type.”

  He gave her a slow, thoughtful nod as he replaced his phone in his pocket. “Oh, don’t assume anything. Obviously, I’ve never found a woman that was my type, or I suppose I’d be taken. I guess I’m still trying to figure out my type. You just might be it.” He took her hand, lifted it to his lips, and placed a kiss on it. “Thank you, Audrey. I had a delightful evening. I’ll be talking to you soon.”

  She wasn’t sure where the shift happened, but she wanted to pull him in and kiss him senseless. However, she refrained. Instead, she slid into her car and started the engine as he shut the door. Then he stepped away as she pulled from the curb.

  * * *

  Gregory watched her drive away, and he cursed his blessed life. It was one thing to have everything you ever wanted, and another to have people judge you for it.

  He walked back to the hotel where he’d valeted his car. Handing the attendant his slip, he pulled out his phone while he waited for them to retrieve his car.

  Opening the contacts to Audrey’s photo, he smiled down at it. So maybe she had a reason for not wanting to get involved with an actor. His first impression couldn’t have been well received, after all, he’d stood up the production crew, and that never went over well. But then there was Bethany. She’d been a good actress, he remembered, but he’d never seen her in anything that wasn’t a B-horror film. At least he didn’t think he had. And when they had worked together, years ago on one of those horrible horror movies, she hadn’t even looked his way.

  Hollywood changed people. A dye job here, a boob job there. Most actors weren’t even recognized from their first films. Drugs ran rampant in the industry. Sometimes it started out innocently enough… just to get enough energy to finish a damn film. Other times it was to control body weight or curb anxiety. But it had taken a toll on Bethany and her mother. Obviously, it strained her relationships with her siblings too.

  As he watched them pull his car into the drive, he took a few dollars from his pocket, handed it to the attendant, and drove away from the hotel.

  There was much more to Gregory Bishop than what the tabloids crowned him. Sure, he’d fallen into what they’d made him out to be too many times. Cell phones were a bitch when it came to making mistakes. Anyone and everyone had no problem taking video of you on a date, having one too many glasses of wine or, God forbid, that moment you take your best friend’s wife out the side door while he picked up the tab. Yeah, that had been a bitch to recover from. But it was the way it worked. Now here he was in an unglamorous town in middle Georgia, and he wished for peace from the life that he’d grown accustomed to.

  As he drove toward his hotel, he wondered what it was that would make someone like Audrey see him differently? He wasn’t just about memorizing some lines and wearing a costume. There was more to him. He was fairly handy with tools. That had been instilled in him on the farm. Maybe on his off time, he could help her put her salon together. There was great pride in that for Audrey, and he’d like to be part of it.

  He was willing to understand reluctance to commitment on her part toward him. He’d only be there for a short time, but he’d like to be a useful member of the community in that time. Maybe that was what he should strive for no matter the location he was filming. His father would be proud of that.

  Finally, a wave of pride moved through him as he pulled into the valet at his hotel. For the first time in a long time, he felt as though he had a purpose and it felt good.

  6

  Since the salon Audrey used to work at was closed on Mondays, she didn’t have many Monday clients. It had been a long time since she’d worked Mondays and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to start that up again. It was nice to have two days off in a row, she thought.

  But since she didn’t have any clients heading to her house for appointments, she woke early, walked down to the coffee shop to get her exercise and her breakfast, and then headed to her new salon to get some grunt work done. Her cousin, Russell, was going to meet her there and put in a few hours tiling the back room floor.

  When she pulled up, he was standing out front with a huge mug of coffee and his sunglasses on. “If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought you pulled an all-nighter,” she said as she climbed from her car.

  “I have a three-year-old who wants to sleep in our bed all night with his foot up my ass, and an uncomfortable, pregnant wife. And I’m afraid if she’s this uncomfortable now, she’s going to be miserable when she gets bigger.”

  Audrey smiled as she took her keys from her bag and unlocked the door. “Her little tummy is precious. Though she does look further along than Susan, and I thought they were due about the same time.”

  “They are. Everyone is different.”

  “As long as she’s healthy,” she offered, as she pushed open the door. “They delivered all of the supplies on Friday. It’s in the back. The plumber will be here today too, and I’m going to be working on painting the treatment room.”

  “What the hell is a treatment room? Or do I even want to know?”

  She snorted out a laugh. “Waxing, facials, and massage. Things I can guarantee your wife would love to have done now, while she’s pregnant, and again after the baby is born.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. It sounds like we all have our work cut out for us,” he said as he pulled off his sunglasses and tucked them into the collar of his shirt. “I hear you had a date yesterday.”

  Audrey blew out a breath. “Seriously? This is what everyone has to talk about?”

  Russell shrugged. “I suppose if it was just Dave from the coffee shop we might not wag our tongues as much. But since the very name Gregory Bishop makes my wife swoon, it’s a bigger deal.”

  “That doesn’t make you mad?”

  He chuckled. “I knocked her up and I wear her ring,” he offered as he lifted his left hand. “No need to get mad. So, is he a nice guy? I mean he did miss his first day of work. He doesn’t sound upstanding.”


  Audrey crossed her arms in front of her. “He did miss it. But he came directly to Kent and apologized. And to answer your question, he’s a very nice man. His roots don’t differ too much from yours. He’s a farm boy.”

  “No kidding?” he asked with a nod. “Well, that’s something. We’re a good breed of people.”

  “Get started on the floor,” she ordered playfully as she set her bag on the work table in the center of the room. “I’m going to go talk to Pearl for a moment.”

  “She’s not open for another hour.”

  “Oh, if I know my sister, she’s already been at work for an hour setting up.”

  Audrey was right. Pearl was happily moving about her store organizing and personalizing the displays for brides who had appointments. Audrey tapped on the front door, and her sister’s head shot up, then a smile formed when she saw her standing there.

  Pearl hurried to the door and pulled it open. “You have no idea how exciting it is to me that you’re going to be next door all the time and can drop in.”

  “You’ll get tired of me,” Audrey assured her as she stepped into the shop and Pearl locked the door behind her before pulling her into a hug. “Ah, you’re in a sappy mood this morning. What’s up?”

  “I went to Mom’s last night.”

  And that said a lot, Audrey thought. Pearl and their mother didn’t always see eye to eye, and usually, after a meeting, Pearl needed Audrey more. So she settled into the role of supportive sister.

  “How is she?”

  The smile faded from Pearl’s face. “She’s Mom. Miserable. The world is hard. Still stuck on Dad, for what reason I can’t even imagine. She knows he has some sugar mama and it makes her mad.”

  “I wish she’d get over it. He wasn’t worth it thirty years ago, and he’s not worth it now.”

  “She’s on my ass to have kids, and then turns around and says that if she’s a grandmother she’d be old, and she cries. Tyson and I are happy right where we are for now. I don’t want her pushing.”

  Audrey couldn’t help but wonder how her sister and her husband managed with the families they had. Tyson Morgan had been raised by his grandfather, and he was a hard-ass man. The rest of Tyson’s story was simply sad, she thought. His birth mother abandoned him, and he was raised to think his uncle, who had died, was his father. Her head spun when she thought of the soap opera that was his life.

  It had only been recently that the Morgans and the Walkers had fallen into a kind relationship with one another, though Tyson’s sister Lydia had always been a friend to Audrey.

  Now Tyson Morgan was married to Audrey’s sister, whose own family had never been close. But they were making it work, and each day, their side of the Walker family grew closer and closer.

  Pearl picked up her coffee mug and took a long sip. The pearls on her wrist shifting, bringing the attention to her elegant nails and the perfect manicure. She was absolute class, Audrey thought as she watched her.

  “So how are things going in your salon?”

  “The plumber is on his way, and Russell is doing some tile work. I am going to do some painting in the treatment room.” She smiled. It would be nice to offer more than just hair in her salon. The possibilities were endless. “I think in the next month we will be completely ready.”

  “Good. You don’t have any clients this morning?”

  “Not today.”

  “Perfect,” she said moving from behind the counter. “My first bride isn’t due for another hour. Let me get more coffee, and you can tell me all about your date with Gregory Bishop,” Pearl sweetly demanded as she walked back toward the small kitchen area in her store.

  Audrey dropped her shoulders and let out a disapproving grunt. There simply wasn’t anything to tell, but she followed Pearl, remembering the night in her head. The very thought that he wanted to see her again brought a warmth to her cheeks.

  She pushed it from her mind as she sat down at the small table in the room while Pearl pressed the button on the coffee maker to brew a single cup of coffee.

  If she even let herself think she wanted another moment with Gregory, she’d be letting herself down. She knew that. They came from different worlds and didn’t have anything in common. But the thoughts kept circling in her head. What if she were his type? What kind of life would they have then?

  7

  Gregory was early. Sadly, he was used to kissing ass to get back on the good side of producers and directors.

  Sure, they’d brown-nose him if he played that card. He was the talent they’d sought out. The audition for Lieutenant Price had been a formality. There was no doubt in his mind the same had happened when casting his female lead, Sherri Post. She was cast to be the looker in the film, though he thought he could hold that on his own.

  Sherri was the buxom blonde with the implants that seemed to sell sci-fi pictures when her uniform was a bit tight. Gregory shook his head at the thought. What happened to good ‘ole science fiction? Robots, spaceships, and discovering new planets and new species used to be enough. Okay, that was a lie too. Hollywood was built on the sexuality of the leading woman, and the striking good looks of the leading man.

  He chuckled to himself as he walked into the room at the hotel where they’d be running through the script before taking a tour of the warehouse that housed the set. The only reason to film a movie of this caliber in Georgia was that the production was getting some fine kickbacks from the city. They’d get the publicity, and the producers were saving some money. What did he care? He was happy to be steadily employed. And if it hadn’t been a Kent Black book, he’d never have met Audrey Walker. Wasn’t fate a funny thing?

  Gregory found his chair by the paper plaque with his name on it. There was a bottle of his favorite water because he’d come to realize everything like that mattered to the talent, really even when it didn’t. He could care less if they’d served him a glass of tap water, but agents weren’t paid to make sure you had tap water. They were paid to make sure the talent was happy, comfy, and employed. All perks, he thought.

  He sat down in the chair and thumbed through the script, which he already knew. There was more to being the talent than being sexy and handsome. They expected him to do a good job if he was going to be steadily employed, and hadn’t he already tested that?

  There was no pride in being a prick, he knew. And he was still waiting for that phone call from his mother to tell him as much. It only meant she hadn’t caught wind of it yet. She usually was privy to the information quickly. That’s what happened when your big break as a sixteen-year-old came at the hands of an uncle who happened to be in the business. He called home about everything.

  Though that uncle had long ago retired he still had connections. One of those connections happened to be with Gregory’s current manager.

  Gregory looked up from his script when he heard another person walk into the room. He wasn’t surprised when Kent Black walked in, his laptop and script held protectively to his chest as he balanced a cup of coffee in one hand and tried to gain control of his bag which was slung across him, and winning the battle to be front and center.

  “Mr. Bishop, hi. Hello. Good morning,” Kent stammered as he looked for his name.

  “I think you’re right there,” Gregory pointed as he stood and moved to Kent. “Let me help you with all of that.”

  He reached for the coffee first, allowing Kent to free his hand and lay down the laptop and script before they crashed to the floor. Removing his bag from his body, Kent hung it on the back of the chair.

  “Thank you. My wife says I’m a tad bit unorganized. Says it’s my creativity, but that’s what she loves about me,” he laughed.

  “Your creativity is genius. We should all be helping you out. Without your words, we wouldn’t be here to work.”

  Kent smiled, then pushed back his hair. “I appreciate that.”

  He opened his laptop as Gregory walked back to his seat. “I’m sorry again for missing the first read-through. Very un
professional of me.”

  “I suppose you need a break once in a while.”

  “Doesn’t mean vanity should be a reason to be a jerk.” Gregory sat down and opened the special bottle of water. “I know I apologized already, but I’m hoping it’ll leave a good mark for me. I’m trying to make a good impression on your sister-in-law.”

  Kent’s head rose at that, and his brows drew together. “Audrey?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, she’s a sweet girl.”

  “She’s not too sold on me yet,” he admitted. “She doesn’t seem to be impressed with status—nor should she be.”

  “Of course they’re all a little biased about that. My wife had a hard start in her life. They see the entertainment industry a little differently than others might.”

  “Understood. When does Audrey plan to open her salon?”

  Kent scratched the back of his neck and shrugged. “I don’t know really. I’ve been so caught up with this production that I haven’t paid a lot of attention. I know that their cousin Russell is helping with the construction. He was in a horrible accident last year, and this is a great recovery for him.”

  “They sure do have a sense of family, don’t they?”

  Kent chuckled as he sat down. “They do. The Walkers are very close. Audrey and my wife are extremely close to their siblings since they have a uniquely broken home,” he said just as others began to filter into the room.

  Gregory rose to greet those who had joined them, but what Kent had just said still danced around in his head. Uniquely broken home. He was from a broken home, but there was nothing unique about it, he thought as he sat back down and sipped from his water again.

  He wouldn’t pry any more with Kent, who seemed to be even more frazzled now that the room had filled. This was a conversation to have with Audrey, face to face. Maybe over a bottle of wine—or champagne. Yeah, that was better. They could do a little celebrating of her new location—her new beginning.