Already Designed

by Xavier Neal

My eyebrows lift in surprise.

  “Hey, just because I like to give my boy hell doesn’t mean I’m an actual asshole. I’ve got manners and shit. I just happen to have a bigger sac and a good sense of humor.” His softened tone further shocks me. “Do you want me to grab plates? Set the bar? Is there even any extra food or should I just set the shit out and eat a piece of toast?”

  “There’ll be plenty.”

  He shoots me a grateful smile.

  “And you can feel free to set the bar.”

  Marlz moves towards the cabinets. “No success in convincing him to buy a kitchen table?”

  I pour the eggs into the warmed skillet. “I’ve just managed to talk my way into us eating inside instead of outside all the time. Picking my battles here.”

  His best friend laughs. “Yeah. We’ve always been the type of dudes more likely to use our laps as table versus any type of civilized shit. Guess you can say it’s just part of the beach bum life.”

  Levi reappears in the kitchen with a pair of boxer shorts dangling from his fingertips. I reach for them, but he smoothly shifts them out of my grasping range. “Nope. I wanna slide them on.”

  My mouth twitches to reprimand when I realize there’s a better punishment I can deliver.

  “Okay.” He steps towards me, bends down, and holds them open for me to step into. Along his salacious skimming during the pull up, he steals a graze of my pussy, only to discover the wetness his earlier touch created. The heated expression is the one I was hoping for. My voice lowers to right above a whisper. “Enjoy thinking about that during breakfast.”

  Levi immediately pouts.

  I win.

  I return to scrambling the eggs and both men busy themselves with doing whatever they can to feel useful. One puts out juices while the other chops up pineapple. The conversation between them is casual and amusing. They laugh like best friends, argue like siblings, and make filthy jokes like juveniles. During the actual consuming of our meal, I primarily remain quiet, devouring the dirty little secrets Marlz is freely sprouting off, including the reason he moved back to South Haven and bought a beach condo. Throughout every conversation, there’s no hesitation to keep anything from me. No speculation in regards to me being privilege enough for the information. The two chat openly and honestly like my relationship with them is as old as the one they have with each other.

  True trust. The kind that Levi keeps begging me for. The kind even his best friend can clearly see he’s already given me, which is why it’s okay for him to give me some too. I’ll work on letting him have more of it from me. It’ll be my going away present. I just pray like hell he returns home with it.

  Chapter 10

  LEVI

  My dick presses mercilessly against the zipper of my jeans as if determined to punish me.

  Like it’s my fault Kady sent me a slightly dirty picture of herself? I didn’t tell her to pose provocatively underneath her bed sheet and add a line of text begging me to join her. Hm? Complaining? Do you see this photo? What the fuck is there to complain about other than having to be here instead of there? Where I wanna be. Where I should be. Where it might be possible to be if my future co-star wasn’t running late.

  All of a sudden an attractive lithesome brunette flops down in the chair across from me. “So sorry I’m late! The meeting with my agent and publicist ran long. Over the top long.”

  I close the photo and turn off the screen. “Believe me. I definitely know how that goes.”

  She shakes her head, still clutching onto her bag. “They kept lecturing me about how we need to get along-”

  “Mine too!”

  “What the hell is wrong with them? We’re professionals, ya know? Though I guess you more than me since I’m tardy to the party.”

  I give her a comforting grin. “It’s fine. Really.”

  She drops the object between her feet and extends her hand. “I’m Lynn Weiss.”

  “Levi Stone.”

  We both take a moment to give one another a once over. Her soft, delicate features paired with her defined cheek bones remind me a bit of Elizabeth Olson, though her tom boy attire, sun kissed skin, and blonde tipped hair remind me of Anna.

  Yeah. That Anna. But you can relax. I’m over her. I’ve been over her. Besides, shy of a court mandated decision, I’m not giving up Kadence for anyone or anything.

  “Should we order something?” Lynn adjusts the sunglasses sitting in her hair. “Maybe share it since it’s brunch, and I hate a big meal before I head to the water.”

  I spot our waitress and flag her over. “Fan of the beach?”

  Her head tilts. “Basically fucking live there when I’m not bouncing all over the country for the tiny roles I keep landing. This will actually be my first lead. I’m kind of nervous.”

  “Don’t be. I’ll do everything possible to make it a great experience.”

  Stop scoffing. I’m being courteous not flirting.

  We allow the waitress to suggest the best appetizers to share and then order them along with screwdrivers.

  Relax.…One drink at brunch is polite.

  The two of us start discussing our early days in the business, which eventually leads to discussing our backgrounds. To my surprise, not only is she a South Haven native, she attended our rival high school. We taunt each other over it, snack on the promptly delivered food, and laugh until our sides hurt about how irrelevant the guidance our theater teachers used to deliver really is. We move onto college conversations, and I’m swept away by the stories she recalls about her days in New York. She smiles often. Toys with the ends of her hair. Speaks with her hands. Unlike many souls who have been beaten down and scarred by the cruel habits of Hollywood, she still possesses life and hope. It’s impressive as well as relieving.

  “That’s why I’m even more excited to make this movie,” Lynn dreamily sighs, pushing away her second empty glass. “I finally get to work in an environment that is second nature to me. Plus, during our downtown, I can grab my board and pass the time rather than mindlessly shop.”

  “Long board or short?”

  “Long. You?”

  “Short.”

  “Jealous. I know they get better speed, but I can’t seem to get the hang of it. It’s fucking embarrassing. I’ve been surfing since I was like nine.”

  “Seven.” My fingers turn inward. “And that’s only because my mom refused to let my dad teach me sooner.”

  Our shared laugh is cut short by a ringing cell phone.

  I slide the device over to see Dee’s scowling photo.

  It seems like the most appropriate thing to see when she calls.

  “Publicist.”

  “Take it,” she insists with a wave of the hand.

  Leaning back in my chair, I hit the answer key, and press the device to my ear. “Are we alone?”

  “My favorite way to have you.”

  I smirk. “What do you need?”

  “Checking in to see how your meeting went.”

  “Still here.”

  “Really?” The shock in her voice is unexpected. “I was expecting the meeting to last an hour. Max.”

  Certain it hasn’t been much more than that, I pull my ear away from the device to check the time.

  Huh. It’s been almost four hours. Weird. Doesn’t feel like it….Why are you frowning again? This is a good thing. Means we get along well. Means no one has anything to worry about.

  “Where did you decide on brunch?”

  “Sun Bistro.”

  “You two should take a little walk onto the beach. Pose for a few impromptu photos and post them for your fans. Francesco is a huge believer in allowing audiences to experience the making of his movies. Do this and you’ll be kissing up to his million-dollar good side.”

  I direct my attention to Lynn. “My pub thinks it’d be a good idea for us to swing by the beach. Take a couple pre-production photos to prove we’re getting along. What do you think?”

  “Totally in.”

&nbs
p; “Lynn’s good with it.”

  “Use appropriate hashtags. The movie title especially.”

  “Got it.”

  She makes an air kiss sound and ends the call.

  I prepare to turn the screen off when my eyes settle on the background of Kadence and I lying on the patio couch with the beach displayed beautifully behind us. A sharp pain swims around the pit of my stomach and I state, “I uh….I need to call my girlfriend before we head out.”

  “Take your time,” Lynn happily hums. “I’ll get the check.”

  “I can pay.”

  “No. This one’s on me. You can grab the next.” She doesn’t allow a rebuttal. She points to the phone in my hand and reiterates, “Call her.”

  An unusual need for privacy pushes me to my feet and towards the corner of the outdoor patio where Steel is standing. I motion my head to the side indicating I need some space. He gives me a curt nod, steps a few feet to the side, and returns to scanning the small area for any possible threats.

  With one hand keeping my cell in place and the other wrapped around my stomach, I impatiently wait for her to answer. When it goes to voicemail, I end the first attempt, and immediately try a second.

  Thankfully, it only rings twice before her voice graces my ears. “Hello.”

  “Hey babe!”

  Kady’s tone is clipped, “How’s lunch? Oh wait, is it Happy Hour now?”

  Guilt grinds itself into my tone. “I’m so sorry for not texting or calling sooner. Brunch ran into lunch-”

  “And now lunch is running into happy hour.”

  I swallow the growing shame. “It wasn’t intentional, I swear. We just sort of started talking and time seemed to slip away.”

  Shit! That sounded bad didn’t it?

  Rushing away from having to deal with the poor choice of words, I ask, “How are you? Still naked in bed?”

  “Nope.”

  “Still thinking of me?”

  “Working.”

  Pretending the cold shoulder doesn’t sting becomes more difficult. “You wanna tell me about it tonight over dinner? We have to take a couple of preproduction photos but afterward-”

  “Can’t.”

  “Can’t tell me about it or can’t do dinner?”

  “Dinner.”

  My voice tries not to waver. “Can’t or won’t?”

  I don’t bother pretending the drawn out pause doesn’t hurt to hear.

  She’s pissed. I get it. But it’s not like I purposely ignored her! And chatting with Anna was simply following strict orders from my team. What? No. I didn’t say Anna! I said Lynn. Brunch with Lynn….

  Kadence circumvents answering my challenge. “I have plans with the girls tonight.”

  Unsure if that’s true or a lie she plans on making true, I desert the idea of seeing her today and search for the next available moment. “Tomorrow? I’ve got a doctor’s appointment in the morning and a meeting with my combat instruction afterward, but I can definitely make you dinner.” Not getting an immediate agreement pushes me to add, “Maybe those spicy shrimp and avocado quesadillas you love? Black beans…. Chile lime corn salad. Each other for dessert.”

  The curt tone remains. “I’ll check my schedule.”

  “Ok….” I dejectedly sigh. “Text me later? Let me know you girls got home safely?”

  “Sure.”

  Another stretch of silence swings back and forth between us.

  My head drops forward in acceptance of my defeat. “Enjoy your night, Kadence.”

  “You too.”

  I start to say something else when the call goes to dead.

  Yeah, I know I fucked up. She was more or less waiting around for me to call. We spent the night separately because of this brunch, but I never thought the damn thing would be the cause of it twice. No, Kady’s not super needy or super clingy, which I appreciate, however she is sensitive of broken implied promises such as when I assure it’ll be a quick meal and we can spend the afternoon having endless orgasms to make up for the one’s we had to do without. I’ll fix this. I will. I’ll check out Marlz’s new condo, grab an early dinner with him, and then hang out at the house just in case I can convince her to come over.

  Turning back around, my eyes settle on Lynn who offers me a familiar bright smile.

  She won’t be a problem. Just because she looks like my ex, sounds like my ex, and possesses many of the same personality traits as my ex, doesn’t mean I’m interested in anything more than the professional relationship we’re cultivating. Like I told Kadence this weekend. I’ve earned some trust. Let me have it.

  Chapter 11

  KADENCE

  Four fucking hours. Four. This ‘casual brunch’ was supposed to be a quick meal. ‘An hour, babe. That’s at max.’ How did an hour multiply and expand into including pictures?! I don’t know whether to be more pissed off at their unplanned outing or the fact he really expected me to just come running the moment they were finished playing together.

  Stepping onto the back patio, I let my eyes land on Henley who is stretched out on one of the white patio lounge chairs with a script in her lap.

  Slowly approaching, I cradle my laptop to my chest and ask, “Mind if I work out here too?”

  “Of course not,” she replies, discarding the object onto a messy pile beside her chair. “Just be aware my agent has apparently lost his mind and you may overhear me call to threaten his job a time or…twelve.”

  I settle in the chair next to hers. “Project hunting not going well?”

  Henley tosses me a sarcastic look over the rim of her white sunglasses.

  “What’s the problem?”

  “So far, they either want me to play the next Kate Beckinsale in an Underworld like universe, the black Lora Croft in a Tomb Raider rip off, or the homewrecker in this Oscar bait piece of shit.”

  Henley hates Oscar bait movies. You know…the ones with overly emotional storylines that often either directly involve racism or sexism or indirectly slip in some of those undertones. Time and time again we’ve heard her go off on a tangent about how it’s acceptable in a role she’s chosen as long as the role wasn’t taken to simply add a stupid statue to her shelf. No…. She hasn’t won one yet. She’d have to have a slightly different attitude about films in order to let herself be cast in one that had a chance at being nominated.

  “I’m not sure I wanna be in a franchise again.” Henley pulls another script into her lap. “Ever.”

  Blaming that on how the last one led to a fall out with her twin.

  “More importantly, I wanna be excited about my next project. I wanna feel that spark. I wanna read the script and be prepared to tear my life apart in order to get the role. Is that so wrong?” Her face tilts towards me. “Is that asking too fucking much from the business I have given everything to?”

  I try to offer her a soothing smile.

  “Subject change,” she announces, realizing she’s rambled too much in her opinion. “What about you? What are you working on?”

  “Easy shit.”

  “Elaborate.”

  Curling my legs beside me, I lean against the arm rest. “You know that Netflix show Unbreakable?”

  “The one where Devon Griffin plays a sexy as fuck MMA fighter who is clearly in love with his secretly hot as fuck best friend played by the highly underrated Kay Mallard?”

  “That’d be the one.”

  “Did you hear they just got renewed for two more seasons?! Two.”

  “Which explains why we’re creating new limited edition covers with the cast on them. The series and author are represented by our company and the studio is demanding we push out these covers as part of a marketing campaign. Creating the covers doesn’t exactly require my Einstein level of design, but treading through shot after shot after shot trying to find the ones that convey the same messages as the originals do is taxing.”

  Henley nods her understanding. “How many?”

  “Thirteen.”

  “Fuck….”


  We share a snicker. “They’re easy though. Almost mindless really. Plus, the author is so laid back that there’s a high probability she’ll not only love whatever design I put together but fight for it to be the one the studio agrees with.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah. This whole little project has a good payout, but more importantly is a great boost for my career.”