The Big Fix

by Linda Grimes

  “Ciel! What are you doing home?” Buffy said, hastily lowering the wooden spoon she’d been holding like a spike at plunging angle.

  “Um, visiting?” I said, backing away from her. I was pretty sure Sarah Michelle Gellar didn’t know me.

  “Buffy, you won’t get away from me this time,” a male voice called out from the living room in a distinctive British accent.

  Spike ran in and grabbed Buffy from behind, bending his head down to nibble her neck. “Got you!” he shouted triumphantly.

  Mom dropped the Buffy aura. “Patrick, stop. Ciel’s home.”

  The hot, bleached-blond vampire spun his head around. “Oh, hi, honey. Nice to see you.”

  “Mom? Dad?” Ew. Was this what they did when my brothers and I weren’t around?

  Mom tugged on Dad’s sleeve. He dropped the Spike aura.

  “Thanks a lot, you guys. Way to ruin one of my favorite childhood shows,” I said, giving each of them a hug now that I could bring myself to touch them.

  “You’re old enough to realize your parents have a sex life,” Mom said.

  “Hush, Ro. Don’t listen to her, sweetie-pie. We were playing tag, nothing else,” Dad said with a flirtatious wink at Mom. Ack.

  Mom grinned, and it was kind of on the wicked side. “Right. Tag. We’ll see how well you like playing tag later, buster.”

  I stuck my fingers in my ears. “La-la-la … I can’t hear you! Can we please go back to pretending I’m too young to understand this stuff?”

  “Knock next time, and you won’t be traumatized. Now, come to the kitchen and let me fix you something to eat. Where’s Billy? I thought you were with him.”

  I followed, crossing my fingers that there was no leftover calamari casserole lurking in the fridge. “He has a job out west.” True enough. “Why? You want me to go stay at his place?”

  Frankly, the idea that my parents might not be thrilled to see me had never occurred to me. And here I’d thought I’d been doing them a big favor by deciding to stay with them while I was in town. Kind of gave me a twinge in my solar plexus.

  “Don’t be silly, dear. You know we love it when you visit. Now, sit at my desk”—Mom’s command center was set up in one corner of the kitchen—“and open the computer. The photographer sent the wedding pictures—they’re absolutely stunning! You look so cute…” She raved about all the pictures while she pulled something from the pantry.

  Please, God, not the canned calamari. I swear I’ll stop using bad words forever if it’s not the calamari …

  The pictures were good. Laura was radiant. Thomas was as relaxed and handsome as I’d ever seen him. Even the ones of me in the banana dress didn’t look too heinous. I peered more closely at the screen. Maybe the photographer had Photoshopped them.

  And Mark …

  My breath caught in my throat at the picture of us dancing together. No mistaking the enraptured look on my face there. And Mark’s face was as every bit as adoring. Jesus, I hoped Billy never saw this picture.

  How could I not have known? I mentally berated myself. It had to have been the cider. Mark had warned me it might knock me on my ass. Little had I known how prophetic his words would turn out to be.

  “… and that Molly,” Mom went on. “Can you believe her performance? She’s positively gifted. And I’m the one who gave her that Rock Band drum set. You remember? I must have known instinctively which instrument would call out to her. Of course, your brother deserves a lot of the credit. He’s been giving her music lessons, you know…”

  “Yeah, Mom. She’s amazing,” I said, and kept clicking through the pictures. There were a few of me with Nils—we looked like we were have a good time, but nothing more.

  In a way, that was too bad. If I’d had the same look on my face in every picture of me dancing with a guy, well then, the look wouldn’t mean anything. It would just be my dancing-with-a-nice-looking-guy look. I kept clicking until I came to a picture of me dancing with Thomas.

  “Oh, that’s a wonderful one of you and your brother. You both look so happy,” Mom said, breezing by on her way back to the refrigerator.

  “Yeah, it’s a good one,” I agreed. Certainly no look of exquisite longing on my face there.

  Mom whizzed by again, carton of heavy cream and a bottle of maple syrup in hand. That could be very good or very bad, depending entirely on the other ingredients in whatever she was making. She put them on the counter and came to stand behind me.

  “Oh, stop there—go back one. Who was that tall blond man dancing with Sinead? A friend of Laura’s, right? She introduced me, but then one of your father’s cousins called me away before I could really talk to him.”

  “His name is Nils,” I said. “I think Laura met him when she was on an assignment in Sweden.”

  “So good looking! He’s Swedish, isn’t he? Is he single? How old is he, anyway? Too old for Sinead, I’m guessing. Liam would have a heart attack.” She went to the counter and pulled the stand mixer out from the appliance garage.

  I was almost through the proofs, and hadn’t seen any other incriminating photos of me with Mark. If I could delete the one of us dancing, then maybe—

  “Remind me to call Mo later and tell her to take a gander at that Viking.” Damn. Auntie Mo had a set of proofs, too. “She’s going to be so disappointed she didn’t get a chance to dance with him. I know I am.”

  “He was a little clumsy,” I said absently.

  Billy was sure to look through all the pictures, to see what he missed. When he saw … No. I was probably overreacting.

  “That’s probably because of the height difference. If you’d worn heels, like I told you…”

  The blender drowned out the rest of her sentence, thank goodness. I clicked to the picture.

  Geez fucking Louise. It was every bit as bad as I’d thought. I tried to think back to the reception. When I was dancing with Mark, had I been certain it was Billy? Because that could explain the look on my face.

  Of course, it didn’t explain the look on Mark’s.

  “Oh, that’s another good one,” Mom said, pausing again to look over my shoulder at the screen. “Mark is such a nice-looking man. So hard and rugged, but when he smiles, ooh-la-la! You know, we should try to find him a nice girl. Maybe now that Thomas is married, Mark will see it’s not so bad. Hmm. Jenny Harrison is still single…”

  “Mom, Jenny Harrison has seven cats. That’s why she’s still single. Besides, she’s forty-two years old.”

  “It’s such an archaic concept that the man has to be older, don’t you think?”

  “She sews outfits for her cats!”

  Mom shrugged. “Okay, how about Susan Westin? I don’t think she has any cats.”

  “She gets seasick. Mark lives on a sailboat. You do the math.”

  “Tara Dickerson?”

  “Too crunchy. She hasn’t shaved her armpits since she was fifteen and found those Joan Baez records in her mom’s closet.”

  I was still staring at the picture.

  “Tough to let go, dear?” Mom said quietly.

  “No!” I said. “I mean, I love Billy. He’s so right for me. We’re right for each other. I just don’t understand why I still…”

  “Go all tingly when Mark walks in the room?”

  I slumped. Mom hugged me, leaning down and resting her head on my shoulder. “Honey, it’s normal. I mean, look at the guy. I’ve had a few Mrs. Robinson thoughts about him myself.”

  “Mom!”

  She patted my head. “Oh, sweetie. You are so sheltered. I really should have reined in your brothers when you were growing up, but it was so darn cute how they watched out for you.”

  I twisted around and looked up at her. “So I’m not terrible?”

  “Of course not. And it will all work out. Give it a little time. Now, come here and peel the shrimp for the maple cream casserole while I get the spinach noodles started.”

  I looked skyward with a stifled a groan. You can’t hold me to it, Big Guy. Shrim
p, calamari … close enough.

  I had to act fast. I’d ask the favor I’d come here to ask, and then I’d flee.

  First off, I explained the Jackson Gunn dilemma. Mom was appalled that one of her favorite actors might do such a thing. Dad wasn’t surprised, but he was upset that I’d worked in such close contact with a possible murderer. When I told them what I needed them to do, they looked a little dubious.

  “Sweetie, you know we’re always here for you, but isn’t this whole criminal justice thing more up Thomas’s alley?” Mom said.

  “Oh, I’m going to hit him up, too. But a conventional legal approach won’t work in this case—we have to be sneakier than that.”

  “Is Mark going to help?” Dad asked. “I would think his background would prove useful.”

  I looked at Mom, flushing. “No. He’s out of the country.”

  Mom patted my hand. She was actually starting to look kind of excited at the prospect of spending some time in Hollywood. “Is Billy asking Mo and Liam? Because I can do that for you.”

  “That’s where I’m heading next. Sorry I can’t stay for dinner. You understand—”

  “Don’t be silly. I said I’d talk to them for you—you know they’ll be happy to help. Now, sit down and let’s eat. This is going to be so much fun!”

  * * *

  “I’ve helped you with your job before. You owe me,” I said, suppressing a shrimp-maple belch.

  “But I’m not an actor. I’m a musician,” he said.

  I’d ducked out after dinner to meet Brian at the club where his band played. We were sitting in the bar, sipping beers between sets.

  “Bri, you’re an adaptor,” I said quietly. “Adaptors are all actors—we have to be. Anyway, we mostly just need warm bodies who can project Hollywood stars. You don’t have to say anything. If it helps, you can think of yourself as a prop.”

  “I don’t have any movie star auras.”

  “Don’t worry, Billy has a ton of them.”

  “But the band—”

  “Can get by without you for a night or two. They do it all the time when you’re busy chasing a new girl,” I pointed out.

  He gave me a look (only slightly stoned), but couldn’t deny it.

  I upped the pressure. “James and Devon are going to help.”

  I’d stopped by James’s place on the way to the club. Devon had been there. James hadn’t been especially eager to sign on, but Devon had talked him into it. Since he had given up chasing his own Hollywood dream to stay with my brother, I suppose James had thought it was the least he could do.

  “And Mom and Dad. Come on, Bri, if Mom will do it…”

  Brian sprawled in his chair. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  “Nope.”

  “All right. I’ll do it,” he said at last.

  I jumped up and hugged him. “Thanks, Bri. I’ll call you and let you know when to come.”

  Two brothers down, one to go.

  * * *

  “Ciel, I’m on my honeymoon.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re back home. How was sailing, by the way? Laura’s a great sailor, isn’t she? Did you have fun on Mark’s boat?”

  “Fine, yes, and yes. And we may be home, but Laura and I are busy getting her settled into my place. Our place.”

  “But Laura wants to help,” I said.

  His eyebrows threatened to meet in the middle over his nose. “You already talked to Laura about this?”

  “Well, yeah. I caught her out front, on her way to the gym. I wanted to make sure it was okay with her before I dragged you away. But it was her idea to come along and help, too. Come on, Thomas. We need you. Heck, if you won’t do it for me, do it for your old buddy Nigel.”

  He expelled a breath through his nose, and I knew I had him.

  Next up: Nils. Billy might not be crazy about the Swede, but he was reliable and he was strong. Plus, since he was in the secret security biz, I figured he knew how to keep his mouth shut. Best of all, he was big.

  After that, a quick call to enlist Sinead and Siobhan (I didn’t expect any resistance from them—they’d jump at any opportunity to miss a few days of school) and I would be done.

  Chapter 22

  “Holy crap!” My voice echoed through the cavernous building. “The lights … the scenery … the props. How did you do it?”

  I knew Billy had rented a warehouse, but to turn it into a soundstage in such a short time bordered on miraculous. Outside, there’d been a small sign reading “Property of Angling Entertainment. Trespassers will be Blacklisted.”

  When I’d asked Billy if it would be a problem that Jack hadn’t heard of it, he’d assured me that production companies in Hollywood popped up and down faster than the critter heads in Whac-A-Mole. Jack wouldn’t think anything of a new one approaching him as long as he knew the names behind it. Which we’d see to, of course.

  “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” Billy said. He squeezed my hand and pulled me over to the director’s chair.

  The name on it was impressively well known. There wasn’t an actor in Hollywood who wouldn’t sell his soul to work with him.

  “Are you sure that’s not a stretch? I mean, will Jack buy it?”

  “If you’re after a big fish, you have to use a big hook,” he said.

  “Have you approached him yet?”

  “I have a meeting set up with him this evening. Very hush-hush.”

  The plan was simple enough, if not easy: offer Jackson Gunn the chance to star in the epic sci-fi movie of the decade. I knew from talk around the snake set that he was hungry for something “big” and “fresh,” especially if he could stretch his acting chops by adding a certain nerdy intelligence to his typical kick-ass type of character.

  Billy held out his hands in the classic directorial framing gesture. “Picture it. Star Wars, Star Trek, Avalon, Raiders of the Lost Ark, and Alien all rolled into one megablockbuster starring Jackson Gunn.”

  “God, he’ll eat it up. But did you figure out how to keep his people out of it? If his agent gets wind of it, she’ll be poking her nose around, trying to find out more about the project, won’t she?”

  “Yeah, I thought about that. I think the best way to play it is to tell Jack that the financing is wobbly. That I want him to come in to shoot some sample footage, that I need something to take to the money people to show them he’s on board before they’ll commit.”

  “And if he hesitates, that’s when we bring in the names? You have all the right auras?”

  “Got ’em. When’s everyone coming out?”

  “Tomorrow. Did you get hold of a costume? Because I found somebody big enough to wear it.”

  “Who?”

  “Nils. He wants to repay us for the help we gave him with the neo-Vikings. Apparently, that operation turned out to be a good career move for him.”

  “Nils? You’re dragging him over from Sweden?”

  “Um, he was already here. He came to the wedding—you know he’s a good friend of Laura’s.”

  Billy looked at me closely. “How is old Nils, anyway? Still drooling over you?”

  I rolled my eyes. (What? Sometimes it can’t be helped.) Yes, I might have experienced a brief, very minor, attraction to Nils when I’d first met him, but it was over almost as soon as it started, and it had been before anything romantic had started with Billy. I can’t stress that last part enough.

  “He’s fine. No drooling. From either one of us,” I said.

  Billy tugged my hair. “Remember—Limburger.”

  * * *

  Laura flew out early, ahead of Thomas, who had some clients he had to see before he could tear himself away from D.C.

  “Must be a pain to be married to somebody with such a strong work ethic,” I teased her, sipping a ten-dollar can of soda from the minifridge.

  I’d taken a break from my film-setup duties to meet her at the hotel. Once she was settled, she’d come back to the set with me and help out where she could. We we
re in her room—the penthouse suite. (Thomas had insisted, claiming they were technically still honeymooning.)

  She laughed. “I wouldn’t say that. Besides, the busier he is with his work, the less he can complain about mine.”

  I was dying to ask her if she’d heard from Mark, but didn’t dare, for fear I’d blurt out everything that had happened after her wedding. I didn’t want to put a smudge on her memory of the day.

  “So, when are you going back to work?”

  “Harvey has something lined up for me next week. A simple courier job. I should be insulted, but I know he has the best intentions, annoying as those are. After this job, though, he and I will be having a talk. Billy can’t keep subbing for me forever.”

  “Is Thomas … um, okay with all that?” I asked, tentatively, because her job had once caused a major rift between them.

  “Well, sugar, just between you and me, your brother can be kind of a chauvinist. But he’s such an adorable oinker that I’m willing to work with him on that particular character flaw.”

  “Good luck with that,” I said, laughing.

  She cocked her head. “What about you? Are you and Billy okay? I was sorry he couldn’t make it to the wedding. My fault, I guess, since he was subbing for me yet again.”

  “We’re good,” I said, meaning it sincerely.

  “Ciel … do you have any idea why Mark left the country so suddenly?” she said, watching me intently. Damn spook instincts.

  I swallowed. “Some emergency job, maybe?”

  “I don’t think so. He usually keeps me up to speed on anything related to work.”

  “Have you talked to him?” I asked.

  “Yes. Once. He called after we brought his boat back to the marina.”

  “Um, how did he sound?”

  I know. How could she not find that question odd? But I was worried about him.

  “That was the funny thing. He sounded kind of … wistful. Not at all like himself.”

  I took a sip of my soda, and tried to sound casual. “Well, his best friend just married his work partner. Maybe he’s feeling kind of left out.”

  “Maybe, but I think it’s more than that. Hey, did you tell him about this job? He’ll usually drop anything that’s not of national importance to help you.”