by B. B. Hamel
She sighs and sips her wine. “Whatever, I get it. You have some farm girl you’re pining for back home. But here’s the truth: you’re stuck with me, and you better not fuck it up.”
I stare at her and she just smiles. “Here’s to our relationship,” she says, raising her glass.
I toast her and sip my whisky, watching as she slowly finishes her salad.
Holly is going to be dangerous. I can see that now. I assumed she was just some Hollywood bimbo with nice tits, but I think she’s a lot more than that. She seems smarter than I realized, and she clearly doesn’t give a shit about what I want at all. The only thing Holly cares about is whatever she can do to get ahead.
Which means she’ll be the first person to fuck me over if the opportunity arises. She knows I’m in love with someone now, but she doesn’t realize who yet. She saw me dancing with Tara the other night, and she should have put it together right there on the spot. But clearly she’s too shallow and self-centered to notice something like that. She probably only notices it when guys are looking at her.
The dinner mercifully comes to an end. Since the studio is getting the check, we simply get up and leave. I help Holly into her light jacket, although it’s fucking nice outside this time of year. When we get onto the sidewalk, the paparazzi descend like fucking vultures, snapping pictures and yelling in our faces.
“Kiss for us!” one of them yells, and the rest of the guys take up the call.
Holly turns to me, a grin on her face. My heart starts hammering and I realize that I’m supposed to actually go through with this.
But before I can, I picture what Tara would think if she saw that. This fake fucking relationship is bad enough as it is, and it’s going to take some explaining. But if she saw me actually kissing Holly, I don’t think she’d forgive me, and I can totally understand that.
Plus, she revolts me. Everything about Holly’s self-centered personality turns me off. She’s emblematic of the whole culture out here, and it’s a culture that I don’t love at all. Sure, making movies and acting is a fun way to make a living, but some of the people in this business are downright horrifying. Holly is pretty much average in that regard.
So instead of kissing her, I put on my best winning smile and turn to the cameras. “Sorry, boys,” I say. “You’ll have to watch the movie if you want to see that.”
Some of the guys laugh and I take Holly’s hand. I press through the mass of cameras until we finally get inside of the car that brought us here.
Once settled, Holly turns to me. “You should have fucking kissed me,” she says. “What’s the difference? We’ve kissed plenty.”
“That was for work.”
“This is too,” she snaps. “Just man up and kiss me.”
I stare at her for a second before leaning in toward her. “Get something straight. I don’t give a fuck about you or about this movie. I’m doing this for my own reasons. Don’t fucking push me.”
She looks surprised and for the first time since I’ve met her, she doesn’t have something to say. I lean back and look out the window, annoyed at this whole fucking situation.
But at least I didn’t kiss her. That would have been easier than standing up for myself, but I’m not a total fucking pushover. I want to get what I want, and I have to play the game a little bit. I just hope I can make Tara see the truth.
14
Tara
The next morning, I wake up and I feel like the whole Jackson thing was a dream.
I get up, brush my teeth, and get ready for work. When I go out into the kitchen for a quick breakfast, I find Laney still sitting on the couch.
I poke my head into the living room. “Up early or late?” I ask her.
She turns back to me and gives me a bleary smile. “Can we say both?” she asks.
“Get some sleep,” I say, and head back into the kitchen. I pour myself some coffee and lean up against the counter as I sip it.
I don’t know why I got so upset last night. These gossip shows are always making stuff up and are wrong more often than not. Jackson and Holly might just be friends from set and nothing more.
But still, something’s nagging at me. Jackson’s being pretty clear about what he wants from me, and it’s obvious that he’s interested in pursuing me. I don’t know how I feel about that, since there are so many complicated feelings behind all of this. I’m completely torn about it. On the one hand, it’s Jackson, he’s always been the one that got away. But on the other, I was wrecked the last time I let myself get close to him, and I don’t know if I can handle that again.
It just doesn’t make any sense to me. It seems totally bizarre that he’d try so hard to get back in my good graces, and then go ahead and date Holly Hart. I know he’s gotten something of a reputation since he became a star, but I can’t fault him for that. And most of the time, those reputations are bullshit.
It’s too much for me to deal with right now. I’m just going to go to work, do my job, and hope everything works out. I grab a yogurt, deciding I’ll eat on set, and pour my coffee into an insulated mug before heading back out into the living room.
“Seriously, Laney,” I say to her. “You gotta shower and sleep today.”
She doesn’t even look at me. “Check it,” she says, pointing.
I look down at the screen, and there’s Jackson and Holly. I’m taken totally by surprise, although I shouldn’t be. They’re eating together, laughing together, and he’s even pulling her along by the hand. They don’t kiss, but still, that looks pretty intimate
“Guess it’s true,” Laney says. She looks up at me. “I don’t know why I watch this crap.”
I stare at the television, and I can feel myself starting to spiral again.
“What’s with you?” Laney asks me. “Every time this guy is mentioned on TV, you freak out. Something happen on set?”
I look slowly at her and shake my head. She has no clue and how could I even explain it to her? Oh Laney, this new action star was actually my boyfriend in high school, he broke my heart back then, really fucked me up, and now he’s back and trying to rekindle something between us, but suddenly now he’s dating his costar, and apparently I’m a mess over it. Okay, so maybe it’s not all that complicated to say, but there’s so much there to unpack, and I just can’t bring myself to do it.
I have a choice to make. I can fall apart like I did last night, or I can stand up and shake it off and go to work. I can be a moody teenager again with a broken heart, or I can suck it up and get moving.
So I take a deep breath, smile at Laney, and head to the door. “I’m fine,” I say to her. “I’ll see you later, okay? Sleep today, please.”
“Yeah, sure,” she says.
“Later.” I give her a smile and quickly leave, although I don’t feel anything like smiling.
I’m not letting Jackson’s freaking games get me down. I’m going to work and I’m going to do my job. I don’t want to see or talk to him beyond what I have to, and that’ll be that. He can date his little movie starlet, and I’ll have my old life back. It can be like he never came home at all.
The day goes about how you’d expect.
Jackson tried to talk to me a couple times, but I blew him off. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but I knew I couldn’t talk to him without crying or getting pissed off. I just wasn’t going to be rational. I’m strong, but I’m not invincible.
So I did what any self-respecting grown ass woman would do in my situation: I ran the hell away anytime he came near.
Of course, I did my job. I can’t just blow that off because I’m mad at him. I still spoke to him when I had to and I kept things professional. But as soon as it seemed like things were about to get personal, I walked the hell away from there as fast as I could without making a scene.
And so I got through the day. Holly and Jackson barely spoke to each other all afternoon, but the rumor mill was going overtime. People were talking like crazy about the two of them, which is pretty much standard on a set
. There’s nothing private when you’re working this closely with people all day long for months at a time.
I just tried not to pay attention. Whenever Jackson and Holly came up, I’d just leave the conversation. And so I got through the day, which I’m actually pretty proud of. I put on my big girl pants and I sucked it up and I got through it. I’m not dead, it wasn’t the worst experience in the world, and now I’m standing in the studio parking lot willing myself not to break down.
Instead of crying like a total dweeb, I call up Laney. She answers on the second ring.
“Morning,” she says, sounding grumpy.
“You slept until now?” I ask her.
“Pretty much.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Come on. Come out with me. I need a drink.”
“You need a drink? I need coffee. This is my morning.”
“Well, make it an Irish coffee, then. Come on, I’ll tell you why I’ve been weird.”
She hesitates. “You sure you want to do that?”
“No,” I admit. “But I will anyway.”
“Okay,” she says. “Lambert’s?”
“Meet me there in fifteen.”
“Later, gator.” She hangs up the phone and I get into my car.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m rolling into Lambert’s front door. It’s an old bar where a ton of Hollywood writers like to go and meet up with their peers. I come here sometimes with Laney, and it’s not exactly my favorite place, but at least it’s quiet and clean and the drinks aren’t too expensive. The people can be pretentious, but that’s fine, at least they mostly mean well.
Laney is already sitting at the corner of the bar, which astonishes me. She looks fabulous, fully dressed with her makeup done, and I have no clue how she does it. I sit down next to her, shaking my head.
“Weren’t you asleep like twenty minutes ago?”
She shrugs and sips her martini. “I clean up well.”
“Obviously.” The bartender comes over and I order a gin and tonic. When my drink comes, I take a big sip to prepare myself.
“So,” Laney says, looking at me. “I left the house and now I’m drinking a martini for breakfast. I believe you owe me a story.”
I sigh. “This isn’t breakfast.”
“It is for me.” She leans closer to me. “Spill.”
“When I was a kid, Jackson used to live in my town,” I say simply.
“Jackson Hendricks?”
“Yep, him.”
“The guy you’re working with? The movie star?”
“Yes,” I say, smiling.
“The hunk? The Adonis?”
“He’s not that handsome…” I say, although I’m lying.
“You’re lying,” she says. “I mean, sure, he’s huge. But he owns it.”
“Okay, yeah, he’s a specimen.” I hate saying it out loud, but it’s true.
“Fine, so you knew him growing up. So what?”
“Well…” I say, looking at my drink. “We sort of dated. For a while.”
“What?” she asks, surprised. “You freaking dated him?”
“For years,” I admit. “And he broke my heart.”
She stares at me, her mouth hanging open. “Shut the fuck up,” she says.
“Laney,” I say, laughing. “It’s true.”
“And now you’re working with him? And seeing all this shit on TV?” She leans back, shaking her head. “This is crazy. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “It was so long ago. We were in high school. I guess I feel stupid.”
“Don’t feel stupid. My god, this is insane.” She sips her drink, shaking her head. “I can’t believe I let this happen.”
“How could you have stopped it?”
“I do have some say in casting, you know. If I made a stink…” She shrugs a little. “Maybe it could have helped.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I say to her. “It just messed me up a lot back then. But I’m fine now.”
“This explains so much,” she says, eyes wide. “It’s why you barely date. And why you’re so emotionally unavailable.”
“I’m not emotionally unavailable,” I say defensively.
“Sure you are. And it’s all because the love of your life broke your heart when you were young.”
“It’s not like that,” I say, but I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what it’s like.
“Listen, Tara, we’ll get through this.” She leans toward me, looking serious. “Now, I have an important question to ask.”
“Go ahead,” I say, afraid of what it might be.
“Can I write a script about this?”
I sigh and smile. “Sure, whatever.”
“You’re a princess.” She picks up my hand and kisses it. “I don’t know why that idiot would break your heart.”
“Yeah, me neither,” I say and finish my drink.
“You have to tell me more. What was he like back then?”
So I take a deep breath and I fill her in on the details. I talk about his difficult family, and how he would always come spend time with me to get away from them. I tell her about falling in love with each other, sitting down on the dock and putting our feet in the lake, leaning up against his huge body, kissing his soft lips. I talk about how popular and handsome he was, how he had the whole world in front of him, but his abusive father was constantly pushing him.
And I talk about how one day, he disappeared. He joined the military and I never heard from him again. He just ghosted on me, no goodbyes, no nothing. We never really broke up, he just went away and stopped talking to me. That was so much worse than actually breaking up. One second he was there, my whole world, and the next he was gone.
I don’t tell her about kissing him. I don’t tell her about what’s going on right now between us, because it’s just too fresh. I don’t want to talk about that. When I finish, I order another drink, and Laney thoughtfully watches me.
“I can see why this might be weird for you,” she says finally.
“Weird is putting it mildly.”
“Why did he leave?” she asks. “That’s what I don’t get. Why didn’t he tell you?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “There are things I’ve always wondered. I know his mom died like a year after he left, but I was too mad at him back then to say anything about it.”
“What did she die of?” Laney asks.
“Cancer, I think.”
She nods and sips her drink. “Well, kid, that’s one crazy fucked-up story. And now he’s back. You’re handling it pretty well.”
“No, I’m really not,” I admit. “I’m barely keeping my shit together.”
“I wouldn’t even be able to do that much, so good for you.” She sighs and looks over my shoulder. “Ah, crap. Don’t look.”
“What?”
“Some guy is coming right for you. Should I get rid of him?”
I turn around and spot one of the actors from the film coming toward me. His name is Jared and he plays a minor character with like four lines or something like that. I can’t remember his last name.
“Hey, Tara,” he says. “Sorry to interrupt, just stopping by to say what’s up.”
“Hey, Jared,” I say to him. “Good job in your scene today.”
“Man, thanks. It was nerve-wracking, you know?”
“Why?” I ask him. “You’re a natural.”
“I mean, I’m working with Jackson Hendricks. And there was so much drama on the set today.”
I frown a little and glance at Laney. “What kind of drama?” I ask him.
“Oh you know, about him and Holly Hart. Everyone keeps saying that their relationship is fake or something.”
I raise an eyebrow at that. “Wait, what? I didn’t hear that.”
“Seriously? It’s all people were talking about.”
That makes sense. Every time Jackson came up, I ran away. No wonder I didn’t hear it.
“He was in a shit mood all day too,” he says to me.
“Not sure why, but man, that guy is scary. He’s a real SEAL, did you know that?”
“Yeah, I heard,” I say, a little distracted.
Jared smile and shrugs. “Anyway, take it easy. Gotta go rejoin my friends.”
“Yeah, sure. See you tomorrow.”
“Later.” He grins at Laney and walks away.
“Not bad,” Laney says. “I’d hit it.”
I turn back to her. “What?”
“I mean, that guy. He’s not bad.”
“Oh,” I say, shaking my head. “Sorry.”
“You okay?” she asks. “That was some weird stuff to hear right after that conversation.”
“I know. It’s bizarre. I think I’m okay, I just…” I trail off, looking down at the bar.
“Come on,” she says, getting out her cash and tossing it down. “Let’s go home. I’ll make you some dinner and we can watch Ghostbusters.”
I look up at her and take a deep breath. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
“Come on.” She gets up and I follow her out the door.
It’s been a weird day today, and that’s about the weirdest thing to happen. Jared’s timing was perfect, but even bigger than that is that possibility that Jackson isn’t really dating Holly at all. I mean, I know that fake romances happen all the time, I just didn’t think Jackson would do it.
It’s possible, though… and could explain things. But still, I don’t want to get my hopes up. The last time I did that, Jackson destroyed me. I need to guard myself.
But there’s a chance. And that chance might terrify me more than I realized it could.
15
Jackson
Everyone on set is whispering about this fake fucking relationship and I’m goddamn sick of it.
Everyone except Tara. Yesterday she barely spoke to me, let alone looked at me. Everything was professional with her, and she walked away as fast as she could as soon as I got near outside of a work context. She didn’t give me a chance to explain the shit with Holly, and now the whole crew is talking about it.
I can’t stand people being in my fucking business, although I know that’s what Hollywood is. Everyone knows everything, and that’s sort of the point. You let people into your fucking world in exchange for fame and money.
