Uncut (Unexpected Book 4)

by Burgoa, Claudia

  The headquarters of Transcending Productions moved from L.A. to Seattle. We have two studios here and four in Vancouver. It all made sense and I didn’t have to sacrifice anything for the greater good. The new offices are close to Decker Records. Their buildings are similar—old brick historical from the outside. However, the production company doesn’t have walls covered up with posters, framed billboard charts or pictures of bands that have recorded in their studios. Here the immaculate white walls blend with the glass desks. The décor is all Pria, our image consultant, and her sidekicks—Thea and AJ.

  Dad has an office here, too. He’s out of retirement and back into show biz. His decision was based on a mixture of the way television and movies are streaming, how the business is changing, and that the offices are only a few minutes from his house. He now works for me. Convenient, but at the same time a pain in the ass. He can call me whenever and ask to see me at any time. Like now that he wants to discuss the Nix series.

  Shutting the door of his office behind me, I wait for him to finish his conversation with Pops. I sit down in the chair across from him, pull out my iPad, and check my emails. I don’t pay attention to what my parents discuss. Though, I am thankful I didn’t catch them making out like last week.

  “Did you find him?” Gabe asks anxiously.

  I set my iPad on top of his desk and grab his pen to chew on it.

  “Or her?” Chris adds because according to him, J. M. Hurst could be the pen name of a woman too. “I can have Mason do the work, Matt. We have assets for that kind of shit.”

  My jaw tenses. This is it. I let out a frustrated sigh. They never trust what I am capable of doing. Hence, we’re having this conversation today. My family is invested in a Sci-Fi series. The Nix series. They want to buy the rights to make them into a movie. Maybe I can be the screenwriter since I know so much about the series.

  “I love you dearly, but I hate when you assume that I can’t take care of shit.” I drum the pen against the desk. “Makes me feel like shit. Useless. Reminds me that I have limitations.”

  “We know you are capable, but also that you pile more than you can carry.” Pops takes a breath, moving from one side of the room to the other and then stopping in front of me. “It has never been our intention to make you feel . . . Really? You have zero limitations, Matt. You set your goals, meet them, and add more . . . and more and, for fuck’s sake, concentrate on one thing and stop trying to prove yourself to us. Right, babe?”

  Dad purses his lips and straightens his posture before leveling his gaze. “That’s why I let you head this company, Mattie. Because you’re capable of that and more. You almost failed because you believed those jackasses. I mean the board. You let the suits run over you. Once you spoke up and made your own decisions, the company took a different direction. You moved the entire operation here. That’s fantastic.”

  I grab a Post-it from his desk to explain who J. M. Hurst is. Switching my initials J.M. to M.J. and adding the Colt to Hurst. As not many know that my name is Matthew James Colthurst-Decker, the connection between the two is almost impossible. They are both quiet, staring at each other for a few minutes. Pops looks at Dad, who studies me, and I wish I knew what they’re thinking.

  “Talking about putting extra shit on your plate, Mattie.” Pops takes a deep breath, and his eyes move from Dad to mine a few times. “Gabe, our son is a kickass author.”

  The pressure I’d felt since the moment I decided to tell them about it is gone. Damn. They are making it too simple. Usually they make a big deal out of my oops, I own that company too. Not anymore.

  “Well then, have Pria’s people release a communication that we’ve acquired the rights,” Dad begins ordering. “Tomorrow you can set your team and start working on the script.”

  I nod, standing up and picking up my iPad before I leave. “Do we really want to make this into a movie?”

  “It’ll be a great series of movies, Matthew,” he says staring at me. “You’ve created great things in the past year. You’re cut out for this and much more, Son.”

  Much more. I feel more hope knowing my personal life is headed in the right direction, especially after this weekend with Thea. Arizona is my new favorite place. Heck, it was fucking awesome to get reacquainted with her. Yes, we did that talking thing she loves, but for as much as we talked, we made love too. Losing myself inside her while knowing that everything will be all right makes all the bullshit of the last six months almost worth it. Almost. After everything that happened and after what we lost, we’re finding the light at the end of the tunnel. Finally my heart and soul have that feeling like we’ve found a new molding, a new way to exist without . . . the old way is behind us.

  “Thank you for being such great parents.” I turn around to leave Dad’s office.

  “We love you,” Pops says.

  I smile while slightly nodding his way then close the door to the office. Maybe it is time I believe them—my parents. Stop second-guessing myself and understand that they know I’m competent enough to handle myself, my business, and even this company. Today is a good day to transform the pattern and create something new.

  I head to my office and take a good look at what I've accomplished. I leave my iPad on my desk after shutting my door, and sit down at my drums. I need to find my footing, organize my ideas, and set a plan for the upcoming movies in motion. Maybe I should call Jacob and ask him to let me use a practice room or an empty studio, to use the equipment to come up with the right words to finish that song. The missing words slowly mix with the notes, but for the first time in my life I’m having trouble coming up with just the right ones. Lyrics that describe the beginning of the tale and the end of an uncut story.

  I pull out my phone, unlock the screen, and look at my favorite picture. Her bright beautiful eyes stare at me. I love everything about her, her warm heart, her witty streak, and that sweetness she’s added to my life. My butterfly. I press the call button and wait.

  “Hey,” she responds at the first ring. “How did it go?”

  “Would you like to be part of the screenwriting team?”

  “Aaaah! I love you, Mattie, with all my heart.” Those words fill my heart with love, but of course, there’s a part of my heart that can never be touched by anyone, not even her. I also know there’s a part in her heart that is dormant, and no matter how much I love her, it’ll never come back to life. “Let’s celebrate over the weekend.”

  “Let’s do this one step at a time. I’m picking you up at noon, right?” I check the time. It’s only eleven; I still have plenty of time to email Pria and see if she can work her magic.

  “Yes, I’ll be across the street. My crafts class starts now,” she whispers. “Ten little children are ready to become Picasso today, or, you know, play with finger paint. Love you, baby.”

  “Love you too, baby.”

  My entire body is jittery as I notice we are driving to the new house. Our new house. The house we designed thinking about our future, back when we believed that we’d be three. Matt never stopped the construction of the house, even after the break up with Tristan, or the crucial four-month break that we had.

  “Did your man deliver, or what?” Matt asks as he parks the car in front of our place. He kisses my hand.

  “My man delivered.” I place a big smooch on his lips and climb down from the truck.

  “The house is ready!” I scream, rushing toward the porch, admiring the greenery and wondering if next spring we’ll be able to raid the nursery and plant flowers everywhere.

  “I hired a landscaper that’s waiting for you to tell him what kind of flowers you want.” Matt comes from behind me and takes me by the waist. “He’ll have them ready for you next year.”

  “How did you know . . . ?”

  “That you’re thinking flowers?” He kisses my earlobe shooting electricity from there to my entire body. Damn, he has to know this isn’t the right time to make me needy for him. “I want to believe that I know my woman. Mostly,
you love flowers, baby.”

  “Have I mentioned that I love you?” I disentangle from his sturdy limbs and enter our new home. Ours.

  We walk through the majestic formal entry. From where I stand, I can see the opulent windows that look to the backyard, the lake, and the cloudy sky. The polished hardwood floors shine, making the white walls seem even brighter. The first fireplace is to the left of the room, where Matt plans to set the piano. “This is perfect,” I twirl a couple of times before we continue. “We have ten extra bedrooms for the Colthurst clan. This is going to be so much fun. Dad can stay with us when he’s in town.”

  “Joy. Arthur staying at our house.” Matt’s eyes are half-mast.

  The master bedroom is on the main floor and has four rooms, including a sunroom. For now I’m ogling the clean interiors and wondering what kind of furniture will mash our styles.

  We enter the gourmet kitchen that includes an Indian tandoori oven—in case it rains we can barbecue. The kitchen island has a bookcase on the side, plus the stove. The breakfast bar is long enough to sit at least six. Behind it is the breakfast nook that faces the lake; the pond is only feet away from the house. Christmas is going to be so much fun.

  “I read your interview in Today’s Entertainment,” he says out of the blue.

  Shit. I forgot about that stupid article. A Where Are They Now? segment about Sophie Knows It All.

  “Want to talk about it, Miss Levitz?”

  I stop walking, giving him all my attention.

  “You denied being attached to one of the Decker triplets—the single one. You’re mine.” The last word is muffled against my lips.

  I angle my head to look at him better. “Have your people send an amendment if you like. Former Hollywood tramp dates the bad boy of the Decker Trio.” I can’t help but laugh at how stupid that sounds, and how false it is.

  “If you’re serious.” He releases my body and pulls out his phone, then hugs me back. “Smile.” As I do, he clicks a selfie of the two of us. “I’ll Face-Tweet-Instagram this selfie of us. #nestisready soon moving in with the love of my life #s2bfiancee #SKIA #MJDecker off the market.”

  “What does SKIA mean?”

  “Hashtag SKIA: Sophie Knows It All. The show has been trending since yesterday, when the article came out.” Hmm, that was yesterday and no one told me. “My people notified me, I let it slide. Shall I press share?”

  “I don’t care what the world knows or not as long as I . . . Wait, you said soon to be fiancée?” He answers with a slight nod. My mouth opens and closes, as I try to find the words to reason with him. “Isn’t it too soon?”

  He taps his phone several times. “Shared.” He places his phone back inside his pocket.

  “I’m not proposing just yet, but . . .” His full attention is back at me. “I will soon. Janine wants you to make an honest man out of me.”

  I doubt his grandma has anything to do with this, but it’s adorable he’s starting to consider the million ways to tip the balance and change my title.

  It’s called masochism, the pleasure of reading about the people who once meant so much, even when it hurts. I look at the Instagram picture of Matthew Decker and Aggie Levitz one more time. So far I haven’t seen any source refer to her as Thea Dennis, or as rumor has it, Thea Bradley. They’re getting engaged, soon they’ll marry, and . . . I’m okay with that, because I chose my own path.

  #nestisready soon moving in with the love of my life #s2bfiancee #SKIA #MJDecker off the market.

  “Is everything all right, Son?” I look up from my computer and find my father entering the office.

  “Yeah, found an engagement announcement that . . . I wasn’t expecting this soon.” I swallow my heart.

  “That man you were dating?” My eyes widen, because even though our relationship isn’t as brittle as it used to be, we’ve never discussed my personal life. I nod. “You know, the heart attack wasn’t because of what your sister sent me. I had too much pressure building up inside me and nothing was working the way I wanted.”

  “I hope you’re happy with the direction Cooperson Corporation is taking,” I say, changing the subject.

  “Yes, I always knew you’d do the right thing with the company. About your other choices . . .” His gaze drops, then lifts again. He releases a deep breath and says, “It’s hard for me to understand that you’re not who I wanted you to be. But in some ways, I think you’re better. That doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy to understand your personal preferences, but I promise I’m going to try to accept whoever you choose to spend your life with.”

  I hand him over the phone with the picture of Thea and Matt. “They’re great. Appearances are deceiving, Father. They’re smart, sweet, and loving.”

  “You were with both?” I nod. He shakes his head. “That’s not . . . easy to grasp,” he says, instead of condemning my choice. “I hope you find someone someday, Son.”

  Father has changed in the past months. From angry to depressed, and now he’s different. I don’t know if it’s our daily contact, or the near-death experience. Whatever happened has transformed him and I think I like the new version of Charles Cooperson. Change is good; maybe someday my love life will change and I’ll find happiness.

  “What's going to happen to us, Tristan?” Fey’s whiney voice drills through my ears. I look down at her ankle and smirk.

  The poor useless child. She hasn't realized she's a grown woman who should be responsible for herself. Except, for the next twenty-four months she’s under house arrest and my parents’ responsibility. According to Mason, Thea decided that maybe living under the same roof with her parents would teach her something—or at least torture her.

  I press a few keys, turn my screen toward her, and point at the results. “According to the HR database, you're not an employee. The move shouldn't affect you.”

  “I should take over the company, Father, not him.” My sister stomps her foot as she glares at her father.

  My sister has no fucking idea what she's talking about. I'm saving the company and jobs by taking charge of it. A few hundred agreed to move with their families to Kirkland, Washington. I'm leaving a few departments functioning in Connecticut. Father and I agreed that to save it, we had to transform it completely. Bring it into this century and sell some assets. Part of the changes included the relocation and leadership with a different philosophy. Our company will lead with diversity. Embracing, supporting, and appreciating our employees no matter their race, religion, or gender. And we’ll make sure that the corporation puts emphasis on supporting our LGBT employees. We’ll donate funds to different non-profit communities that help members of the LGBT community.

  “Shut up, Fey,” Father says, slamming his palm against the desk. “I'm tired of you and your selfishness. If you're worried about money, you have a trust fund. That should cover you for the rest of your life. As for the company, it's now Tristan’s.”

  “I think this is all I needed from you, Father.” I start shutting everything down, placing the documents he signed to switch the bank accounts under my name back into my portfolio. “After I pack, I’m heading to the offices to make sure everything is ready to shut down here by the end of the month.”

  “The wire transfer?”

  “I made sure the funds posted on your account, Father.” I take out a copy of the transfer and a screenshot of his bank account with the new balance. Lately I’ve felt as if I’m his financial advisor of some sorts. Closing investment accounts, selling shit. “After the office I’m heading to the airport. My flight leaves at six.”

  “We’ll be in touch, Tristan. Call before you leave and have a nice trip.” Father bows lightly.

  I nod, getting closer to him and giving him a quick hug. “As soon as I find a place in Seattle, I’ll let you know. Maybe you can come visit the new offices once we’re all settled. See you around.”

  Walking through the cold hallways of my childhood house I wonder why they never placed pictures of our childhood. Mother
only hung art or big family portraits taken by whoever was the it photographer at the time. The five of us wearing expensive clothing and looking pristine. The Deckers have thousands of pictures of their children when they’re babies all the way to now. They’re messy, fun, candid pictures of the entire family.

  As I enter my old room, I promise myself this will be the last time I travel east. The corner of my lip tugs as my phone rings and I see his picture. Matt’s. But it drops immediately because it’s a picture of him hugging Thea. Those were the days, the best days.

  “Decker?” I respond, wondering why he’d call. The last time we saw each other felt as if everything between us was over. Now . . . I scratch my head and ask, “How can I help you?”

  “The Silver Moon.” I frown, walking toward my laptop bag to pack it. What does he want with it? “You haven’t done much with the place. I want to finish building it and open it for business—soon.”

  I run my hands through my hair and wait for him to say more, or for what he just said to settle in. Is he asking if we’re back in business, or . . . ? No, I won’t assume. “Ah, you want an update,” I say, convincing myself that this is why he called. My business partner wants to know the status of our venture. “As you know, I had a family emergency, but I have all in place to continue—”

  “No, I want to buy it from you.” His husky voice on the other side of the line feels like an arrow going through my heart.

  “Wait.” I barely recognize the sound of my desperate voice. “You can’t . . . We’re partners. Everything is in place. Don’t you get it?” No, of course he doesn’t because to him I’m just a fucking asshole who couldn’t take the heat. Without adding more to our conversation, I continue, “I’m closer now and I can work on it. If it’s because you don’t want anything to do with me, then sell me your part.”

  “Does it matter what I want with you, Tristan?” His gruff voice deafens me. I walk around my room, wondering how to stop this shit. “The Silver Moon matters to my family. It was my idea to acquire it. I deserve to have it, not you.”