Orlando (Blackmail #1)

by Crystal Spears

  ***

  Chapter Five

  Friday

  My chest heaves up and down with anxiety over telling Orlando everything. He is going to be furious when he learns the truth. He’ll be confused and hurt by it all, but I got the go ahead to tell him from the person I called for permission. It isn’t my secret alone to share. He may even hate me when I’m through talking. I won’t blame him. Orlando has always been one to try to fix things, especially when the people he cares about are involved.

  When the sound of his knocking hits my front door, I take one last deep breath before yelling, “Come in.” I can’t get up from my seat. I’m rooted to it in fear. This won’t be the first time Orlando will be upset with me. It will be the worst, but not the first. I can do this, I tell myself over and over while his gorgeous self strides into the room.

  He puffs out air as he takes a seat across from me in the other chair. My palms sweat as my nerves shake up my core.

  “Just get it over with, Bucket,” he mumbles as he leans back.

  It is easy for him to say that because he has no idea what he is about to learn. It is going to rock him to the core. He will fume with anger.

  “As I told you the other day, blackmail plays a huge role in why I’m here, but I sort of led you to believe that I was the one being blackmailed. That isn’t the case at all.” I take a deep breath, sit up straight, and gaze into his green eyes so he can see the truth in my upcoming words. “Neri was being blackmailed to take this part.”

  Orlando’s body straightens in the wooden wicker chair as his eyes narrow. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

  Oh, god. I knew this was going to happen. Find your words, Friday.

  “She was being blackmailed, but that isn’t the worst of it. By who, is what you’re going to have a bigger problem with.”

  O grips the arms of his chair, his fingers dig into the sides, and he growls, “Tell me who the fuck is blackmailing my wife, and why the fuck they are doing it.”

  I hate hearing him use this tone with me, and the word wife knots my stomach, reminding me again why I stopped him the other day.

  “Larry is blackmailing Neri,” I answer.

  With that name, he bolts up out of his chair and kicks it behind him. The wicker shatters when it slams into the cottage walls.

  “How in the fuck do you know this? How in the fuck,” he spits, his fists clenching in and out at his sides.

  Here is where he will become even more confused. He’ll be shocked, and maybe he won’t believe me, but I won’t blame him.

  “That movie Neri is filming right now is one I was supposed to be working on, as well. During our final screen tests, they had Neri and me screen test together. When it was over, your wife invited me to lunch,” I say as I get up and head towards the kitchen to grab some water.

  “I don’t understand how you and Neri screen tested together, and I didn’t hear a goddamn word about it, Bucket. Make me understand. This is all sounding like a bunch of babble to me.”

  His tone pitches at the end of his sentence as I open up the fridge and grab two bottles of water. I shut the fridge and take a bottle over to him, keeping my eyes on the floor. I don’t want to see the disappointment or the sadness that might be laced within them.

  “Well, we haven’t been close in years, and I have no idea why Neri didn’t tell you. If she had, our plan probably wouldn’t have worked.”

  I can’t chance looking him in the eye, so I take a seat, direct my attention to my water bottle, and peel off the label.

  “During lunch, your wife, who has always been a complete stranger to me, broke down and began to sob so uncontrollably it upset me. She is your wife, O. I may not have liked that you got married, but I know how deeply you care, and if she was hurting, I knew it would hurt you too. So I asked her if there was anything I can do to help? At the time, I didn’t know how far my simple suggestion would go. I sure the hell didn’t think I would end up on an island shooting a porn trilogy.” I twist the cap off of my water and guzzle it down. The wet calms my dry, aching throat.

  “Are you trying to tell me that you took the place of my wife in the fucking trilogy, Friday? Is that what the fuck you’re trying to tell me,” he yells and turns away so fast, it makes my head spin. His right hand lands a blow to the wall, cracking his fist right through the thin plaster. His shoulders move up and down as anger takes over him.

  “I did take her place. After she finished sobbing about being blackmailed to do porn, something inside prompted me to offer to take her place. She was stunned by my response, and to be frank, so was I. I had promised myself I would never enter this world again. It was hell for my team to cover it all when I started making blockbuster films. I got lucky, but I have jeopardized my career because…” I trail off, not being able to finish my last sentence. I know it will further complicate how he takes this. He is going to be even more upset with me when he learns the true reason why I did this.

  “Why, Friday? Why,” he shouts as he flings around from the wall to face me.

  I close my eyes and speak my reason before I chicken out.

  “Look out, Bucket!” Orlando shouts as I turn around and see him running towards me.

  He flings himself onto my body, and we go spiraling into the air and slam against the concrete sidewalk as a car barrels past us.

  My head throbs at the contact, my mind processing what could have happened if he hadn’t thrown me out of the way.

  “Goddamn! You never pay attention, Friday! What the fuck,” he shouts as he stands us up and moves the hair on the back of my head in search of a wound. “You could have been killed! Why do you do this shit to me, huh?” he questions.

  I didn’t mean to upset him. Heck, I didn’t even see the car coming. Hence, why I was crossing the street.

  “I didn’t see the car, O. I swear, and why are you yelling at me? You could have been killed, too,” I exclaim and the shriek of my shrill voice causes my head to pound a rapid beat against my skull.

  “I will always protect you, Bucket. It’s what I was built to do,” he whispers in my ear when he is satisfied I am not bleeding.

  “I’ll always protect you too, O. Always.”

  “That’s your reason,” he asks in disbelief, and I shrug. “You’re out of your goddamn, ever loving mind, Friday. How is protecting Neri, protecting me?”

  I can’t believe he would ask such a stupid question. Does he not see that I would do anything for him, even after all of these years?

  “If she hurts, you hurt. It was going to ruin her, which in the end could possibly destroy you, too,” I whisper and tilt my head towards the ground to mask the tears burning in my eyes.

  His loafer clad feet step in view of my eyes, and I smile. What is with guys wearing loafers at the beach? I will never understand it.

  His hand cups my chin and brings my head back up so that he can see into my eyes.

  “I’m still not understanding something here. Why did Larry let you take Neri’s place? If he was blackmailing her, why did he allow you to do this instead?” He holds my gaze.

  “Because you’ve told him that we grew up together, and he knew it would hurt you as bad as if it were Neri doing it. This is all because of something you did to him, or whatever he thinks you did to him. Neri said it was because you fired him.”

  “But what did he have on Neri in the first place to make the blackmail start?” Orlando still looks puzzled.

  Oh, god, this isn’t something I want to explain. This is their business, not mine. I should have asked her if it was okay to answer a question like that. It would most certainly make me feel better about doing so.

  “Answer me,” he growls as his grip tightens on my chin.

  “Larry has a video of Neri having sex with some guy,” I blurt as I jerk my chin away.

  Orlando steps back, stunned by my words. “This is before I would grant her a divorce,” he says under his breath.

  This is a discussion for the two of t
hem. I won’t get involved. I’m doing this for Orlando and only Orlando.

  “So the entire time you little shits were planning this, you didn’t once ask Neri about our relationship?”

  Why on earth would I ask his wife how their relationship is going? “None of my business,” I respond as I take another sip of my water.

  When Orlando pulls out his phone and starts dialing, I jump up from my seat.

  “If you think you’re calling your wife from here, you’re ate up, Orlando. Go back to your place and handle your personal life in private. I’m tired and I’m going to bed,” I hiss.

  He must be out of his mind if he thinks I want to hear a conversation between him and his wife. As if my heart isn’t broken enough by this point, if I hear him say the words ‘I love you’ to her, I might snap. And I’m not the kind of person that snaps.

  “I’m going, but know something. This conversation is not fucking over, and both of you will be getting a lot harsher talking to over this. I’m so disappointed in you, Friday. I never once thought you could ever disappoint me, and you have,” he says in exasperation and turns to leave.

  I don’t hear the sound of the door. The only thing echoing in my eardrums is he is disappointed in me. I’m a grown ass woman, and those words shouldn’t hurt me, but they do. They hurt something awful.

  I remind myself that I only have five weeks of filming left until I will be done with all of this.

  ***

  Chapter Six

  Orlando

  What were the two of them fucking thinking? Taking on blackmail by themselves, and my wife keeping it from me, of all things. Shit, I know we are getting a divorce, but this is ridiculous. I bend down, take off my loafers, and walk down the beach towards my cottage, using my free hand to dial my wife. It rings three times before she answers, which lets me know she is waiting for me to call.

  “I was expecting a call from you,” she answers. “I’d imagine you’ve talked with Friday.”

  I huff into the phone as my mind plays back and forth the words that I want to say to my dear wife.

  “I am so angry with you. Not only did you not tell me what was going on, but you dragged my childhood best friend into it as well. Were you trying to ruin her career? Is this a punishment to me for not agreeing to the divorce sooner,” I yell into the phone. “I mean, come the fuck on, Neri. Bringing her into your mess is not something I would have ever pegged you to do.”

  I’m so angry, it takes everything in me to keep myself in check. I don’t want to yell at the women in my life, but fuck if they aren’t making it hard for me.

  “I was an emotional wreck, and we both know she’s doing this more for you, than for me. She loves you, Lando. She wasn’t going to let me stop her from doing this. And you’re the one that pissed Larry off so he could blackmail me. How the hell he got a hold of my sex tape with Caster, I will never know. Caster has no idea, and he’s in talks with his lawyers over it still. I don’t know what you’d like me to say on the matter, other than I’m beyond grateful for Friday’s love and compassion for you, because it saved me from humiliation.”

  Saved her? What the hell about Friday? What of her humiliation?

  “Oh, so it’s okay for Friday to be humiliated, and her career to be ruined,” I roar as I trudge in the cold sand.

  I have no idea what I’m going to do to straighten out this fucking disaster, but I have to do something. I will make a phone call to all the best lawyers.

  “Now I have to get this fucking shit under control, Neri. I’m going to finish filming this porn, and then Friday and I will be back in California to clean up your goddamn mess,” I growl in anger. I can’t believe she has put us all in this position, but most of all Friday. This behavior is unlike Neri. She isn’t deceitful or callous, and this entire situation screams of both. She must’ve felt trapped for her to stoop this low in her decisions.

  “I need my separation papers, Neri. I want to move forward with Friday, and I can’t until I have proof that we’re separated. She had no idea we were getting a divorce. She knows I believe in no such thing. Why didn’t you tell her beforehand,” I question my wife.

  “It didn’t seem relevant at the time. To be honest with you, I was more concerned about myself than I was anyone else,” she responds.

  Where did my sweet Neri go? Did I do this to her by not granting the divorce sooner? Did I turn her into this cold-hearted person speaking to me from the other end of the telephone? My ears can’t believe anything they are hearing. It almost makes me happy I’m granting her wish of a divorce if she is acting this way.

  “I’ll fax the paperwork to your personal assistant. And to answer your question, Larry said it had everything to do with you not directing that film with him. He said it wouldn’t have failed if you had stayed on the project. Thus his reasoning behind our blackmail.”

  I guess Larry is upset with his own failures. He shouldn’t need to attach my name to one of his projects for it to succeed. He should be able to be successful on his own without my help. Besides, the film was shit, not even theater worthy. Of course, I was not going to attach my name to it.

  “Just fax me the damn paperwork. I’ll be getting a hold of you in a few weeks when we’re back in California so we can handle this mess you’ve created for all of us,” I demand in a stern, serious voice.

  I don’t let her respond before swiping the off button. I have never been so pissed off in my life. I promised I would protect Friday for all of our lives, no matter if we have been distant for the past twelve years. She is still a critical part of my life. I wouldn’t be the man I am today if I hadn’t grown up with a friend like Friday.

  I believe whom I grew up with and surrounded myself with helped shape me as the person I am now.

  When I reach my cottage, I flop down in the hammock between two beautiful palm trees. In the dark of the night, the ocean breeze relaxes and relieves my senses as the wind sways the hammock back and forth.

  I will fix this with Friday, and start by showing her my separation papers tomorrow after filming. And I’m going to fuck the shit out of her once she realizes she is all that I want from now on. She is who I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. It should have been Friday from day one. This is one of those scenarios where marrying and falling in love with the best friend should have happened. We should have been together from the get go.

  My mouth splits into a huge grin with thoughts of making Friday all mine and only mine. She isn’t going to know what hits her tomorrow night.

  ***

  Chapter Seven

  Friday

  Filming has been awkward all day long. Orlando barks orders and nothing is to his liking. I thought maybe his rants and raves to reshoot this scene and the next were because Neri and I hid this blackmail scheme from him, but again, I wouldn’t peg Orlando to be so vindictive.

  “Goddamnit, Friday, what the fuck is wrong with you? You’re delivering your lines like shit,” he roars and throws the script down on the ground like an adolescent child not getting his way.

  “Maybe you’re acting like an asshole, and I like pissing you off today,” I scream back and then cover my mouth with my hand. I never talk like this. Cursing is a rare thing for me. Look what he is making me do.

  Orlando kicks at his chair, cursing to himself before demanding his next orders. “That’s a wrap for the day, everyone. Be back here at seven in the morning,” he screams while throwing his headset down onto the filming monitor.

  “Friday, get your ass back home. I’ll be there to discuss what we talked about last night,” he says in a loud whisper as he storms past me.

  Oh great.

  After the day he made us all have, he is the last person I wish to see when the workday is over and done. Who wants to be yelled at all day and all night long? No one, that is who. Because he has known me my entire life, he thinks he reserves the right to call on me at any moment’s notice. What a butthead.

  If he were any other man, I wou
ldn’t give him the time nor the day, but he is Orlando. My one and only true love. My best friend and maybe the one person who can makes things happen to clean up this mess I’ve been stupid enough to find myself in.

  I walk to my dressing room, strip from my slutty clothes, throw on yoga pants and a small tank top, and slip on some ballerina flats. These will be quick and easy to get out of back home. I’m anxious to shower off the skank that has latched itself on my skin. I hate the feel of some strange man’s sweat slathering my body. It is disgusting and makes me feel like a cheap slut. Now that Orlando has pointed out all the wrongs of why I’m doing this stupid porn, I find myself questioning all my morals.

  What self-respecting woman does this to herself? Me, that is who. I have more than screwed up, it is beyond clear to me.

  I take a company car back to my cabin. I would have walked if I weren’t so dead set on washing this nasty man’s sweat off my body.

  I unlock the front door, kick it shut with the heel of my foot, and trudge straight towards my shower while I strip from my clothing. Throwing each piece to the floor as it comes off, I march to the bathroom. I reach into the stall of the shower and turn the water all the way to hot. I want to scald the dirty from my body.

  I step into the steam and let it flow over my skin. I dump more than half of my body wash into the palm of my hand and rub it all over myself. Then I pick up my loofah brush and scrub my skin until it is raw and almost bleeding red. Shampoo and condition are next, and once I’m satisfied germs no longer cover me, I turn the water off. As I step out, I wrap one towel around my body and tie one up in my hair.

  I hear shuffling in the living room and curse myself for not locking the front door. I know who it is without calling out to ask. Only one person would not respect my boundaries, and that is Orlando.

  “You could’ve knocked,” I yell from the bathroom.

  “Yeah, but I didn’t.” He chuckles.

  At least he is laughing and not yelling back at me. I have had enough of all of that. Orlando yelling at me is the last thing I ever want. He is a gentle, loving man, one I always want to please, but not let walk all over me at the same time.